Luke swiftly shifted his weight, transferring his focus to a concussive mana blast in his right arm. With a rapid burst, he unleashed a series of right hooks, the impact reminiscent of a shotgun blast. The mollusk creature's crystal shell cracked under the relentless assault, as small chunks broke off and thorns scattered in the water's current. Annoyed, the creature thrashed its foot, creating splashing waves that disrupted the islands of trash surrounding it.
Growing increasingly frustrated by the constant interruptions, the creature retaliated by shooting out more teeth-like projectiles. Although most of them were deflected by Luke's energy shield, a few managed to find their mark. One struck Luke's side, cracking his ribs and revealing the expanding and retracting muscles beneath his torn flesh with each breath.
To overcome the challenges, Luke adapted his strategy, employing short, intense bursts of speed and utilizing the walls, floor, and trash pile to move in unconventional and inhuman ways. His mental barriers shattered, and he embraced his newfound abilities, surpassing the limitations of traditional human combat.
Within the underground canal, the cracked stone tiles filled with sewage water created a grim and murky battleground. The stench of the sewers permeated the air, while dim lighting cast eerie shadows. The sounds of splashing water and occasional drips from leaky pipes echoed throughout the claustrophobic space.
Luke's movements grew increasingly erratic as he entered a meditative state. Effortlessly gliding over the waters, he utilized rippling forces to swiftly change direction and employed his mana constructs to anchor himself to the trash piles. With a relentless onslaught, he bombarded the snail, depleting his energy reservoir at a rapid pace. However, the dense concentration of mana in the air allowed for some regeneration, and the inherent traits of the Void ensured that any energy interference resolved naturally.
The slug bore the visible scars of the prolonged battle. Its once-impressive shell now exhibited a network of cracks, holes, and crevices, releasing a grayish blood that instantly transformed into smoky wisps upon contact with the water. Surprisingly, despite the shell's formidable toughness, the creature's soft flesh proved to be its weakness. Kinetic Bursts that found their mark on the snail's front or foot delved deep, peeling away layers of floppy flesh and leaving a trail of mucus behind.
Aware of the futility of employing his electric attacks, Luke acknowledged that the waning Aura of Evening Light still had enough potency to thwart his efforts. Nonetheless, he continued to refine his technique with the Kinetic Burst, reducing the time it took to form while increasing its density and sharpness. Adding a subtle spin to his punches, he witnessed the coalescence of energy around his arms. Starting from his elbows, the airflow thickened and gleamed with raw power, spiraling down towards a singular focal point at the end of his fist. With every swing and release, his arms unleashed explosive power.
The creature was met with immaterial bullets, their rapid rotation akin to drilling implements. Deep, drill-like marks were etched onto the shell as the bullets found their mark.
A low, rumbling tremor permeated the air, a manifestation of the surging kinetic energy being expelled. The halls echoed with resounding booms, creating a cacophony of destruction. The once impervious shell reverberated with a hollow ring as thorns and horns of crystalline composition fractured and detached. The turbulent waters churned vigorously, sending misty sprays cascading like sharp-edged shrapnel, while powerful waves crashed against the walls and embankments. The relentless clash of magical energies filled the surroundings with a chaotic symphony, punctuated by small bursts of dissonant sound and rapid, colorful flashes of light. Amidst this pandemonium, the intensity of the battle converged upon the crystal shell and reflected in the unwavering gaze of Lukas, his offensive onslaught unyielding.
Just as the outcome of the battle appeared to be decided, with the Aura on the brink of depletion and the shell barely maintaining its cohesion, resembling mere remnants of its former self, a sudden eruption of blinding ashen light illuminated the surroundings. The sheer intensity of the radiance disoriented Luke, throwing him off his rhythm and sending him crashing into a nearby pile of trash. Simultaneously, a deafening boom resonated through the air, accompanied by a scorching wave of heat that washed over him. The searing flames immediately inflicted raw, bleeding wounds and boiling boils upon his skin, causing agonizing torment. Wracked with anguish, Luke convulsed and thrashed about, his entire body crying out in pain as the shards embedded within him burrowed deeper, igniting his blood and flesh. It was as if his very being had become a heated blade plunged into a vessel of oil, swiftly sapping away the fragments' heat and channeling it into Luke's ravaged form.
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The torment gnawed at his sanity, leaving his throat parched and raw from screams echoing through the arid air. His eyes, miraculously spared from the onslaught, welled up with tears of blood that coagulated swiftly and clung to his tender, raw face.
Amidst the ceaseless tempest of pain coursing through his mind, a flicker of solace emerged within the formless Void. It churned and rumbled, sensing the approach of feast drawing near, a banquet of boundless energy waiting to be devoured. To be Unmade.
Like a rush of frigid waters it flooded his mind, the Void's ice infiltrated his thoughts, imbedded into them and tore apart the fragmenting clusters of condensed trauma into more manageable shards. His mind became increasingly submerged, and his body followed suit. Obsidian markings crept up his arms, tendrils of darkness branching from his eye to encircle the surrounding flesh. The foreign objects that had intruded as shrapnel within his body melted and dissipated under the relentless toll exacted by the relentless Void.
A weightlessness engulfed him, an indifference settling within as a secondary layer emanated from his being. The Void surged, pushing aside the Mana, draping him in a dueling tapestry of conflicting energies. Like a marionette animated by unseen hands, his body moved with an unnatural grace, limbs manipulated by invisible strings. Through a pulse, his senses extended, perceiving all that lay before him, both above and beneath the water's surface.
The aftermath of the explosion was nothing short of terrifying. Centuries-old blocks comprising the Sewer Tunnels lay cracked and riddled with gaping holes, some sections reduced to mere fragments, ground into dust or swallowed by the tumultuous waters that clashed like a raging typhoon. Garbage piles scattered, their incandescent flames flickering like beacons amidst the storm's chaos.
Beneath the water's surface, he discovered the object of his torment, ensnared in the grip of self-inflicted agony. It lay stuck to the sewer floor, torn and mangled, with remnants of flesh hanging precariously, expelling hissing rivulets of blood into the surrounding darkness. Half of its head had been cleaved away, leaving only a lone, cloudy eye stalk pierced by some foreign object. It dragged itself across the floor, desperate to reach the nearest drain, seeking escape from its wretched fate.
A malevolent grin played upon his lips, his eyes ablaze with madness as he descended, delivering a forceful blow that rent the waters beneath him down to their very depths. Launching himself off the walls and ceilings with a swift kick, utilizing the telekinetic currents to propel himself forward. Like a projectile unleashed from a slingshot, he closed the distance to the colossal slug, a pitiful and defenseless creature.
With a grip fueled by all the strength his body could muster, he relished in the moment. His claws dug deep into the supple flesh, savoring the sensation of its tender vulnerability.
“BURZA ISKIER” he bellowed underwater, sparks cascading from his entire body, even piercing through the watery medium to scorch the monstrous creature. The incantation underwent a transformation, passing through the dual layers of his energies and mutating its very structure. It resonated with the magic that resided within him, then traversed the disruptive field of the Void, absorbing its destructive effects and distorting its essence. Only through the outer cloak of Mana, the last vestige of his diminishing will, was the spell barely held together.
The space around him contorted into a grotesque aberration, a manifestation of the abhorrent energies that engulfed him. Distorting static clawed and tore through every inch it traversed, displacing matter and warping reality itself. Vibrations reverberated through the surroundings, shaking and trembling under the relentless onslaught of the Void. The reverberating cacophony, reminiscent of a colossal leviathan being torn asunder, reverberated through the water, carrying the weight of ancient powers reborn.
In an instant, a tidal wave surged through the tunnels, a torrent of water unleashed from the jaws of the apocalyptic Throat. Steam billowed, and fragments of stone and debris were propelled with explosive force, resembling artillery shells in their destructive trajectory. The once formidable passageways now lay in ruins, their chambers pockmarked within an empty basin. Amidst the desolation, a solitary figure stood, barely conscious, still standing. Steam slowly rising off his bleeding body.
The lone testament to the ruination that now held sway.