Nothing could stop her reaper's stride, and thus, Katashi could no longer hide, seek refuge, or escape. He was injured, one arm hanging limply by his side, and what once had been beautiful armor was now but tatters and fringes of torn rings. Finishing him off was a matter of seconds. Moreover, a wounded Japanese was not as interesting an opponent as the two surviving granite trolls, who still remained not the easiest targets, especially if one approached their destruction more aesthetically. Besides, performing the Dance in front of an audience, even if it was just a single onlooker, felt somehow more meaningful and complete. Perhaps because there was someone to appreciate and understand its beauty. So, the one who, under a different turn of fate, could have become the God of Labor would perish in this hall last. He would die, that outcome was certain, but only after fully enjoying the perfection of my Dance.
Two massive granite bodies with a guttural bellow kept dashing around the cave in hopes of at least grazing me. In vain. Like the best of the best matadors, using an extremely minimalist movement style, I easily avoided danger that sometimes flew by mere millimeters from my body. Changing rhythm, shifting from frenzied jumps and spins to such extreme succinctness, was also beautiful in its own way. Three times I allowed the granite trolls to pick up speed and try to crush me. This couldn't even be called giving them a chance; it was more like deliberately prolonging a fight I did not wish to end. But dragging out the battle too long negatively affected the overall picture of the dance, making it artificial, unnatural... Therefore, I met their fourth joint attack with a double strike at the granite trolls' weak points, which were already clear and understandable to me.
Having only started the movement of the spear, I turned to Katashi, who had cowered in a corner of the cave. I didn't need to look and control where and how I would hit. Because with all my being, I knew there could be no miss, and soon, both trolls would crumble into a pile of stones right at my feet. And even the fact that at the moment the attack began, my right foot slightly slid aside because it had landed on a small pile of gravel - remnants of one of the previously destroyed spiders - even this roughness in the Dance could not change the accuracy of the hit.
And that minor mistake indeed didn't affect my strike; I hit my target exactly where I intended. However, the blow landed at a slightly different angle than planned. In theory, this small inaccuracy shouldn't have affected the overall outcome and the eventual demise of the trolls. It shouldn't have... but it did. Due to the slightly incorrect angle of the impact, my spear-crowbar - essentially a rough blank made of thinner twisted rods, somewhat crudely forged together by the Japanese - refused to endure such abuse and snapped. It didn't break in half, nor did it bend, but it split along the forge lines and instantly transformed from a deadly and heavy two-meter pole into a "bouquet" of rods.
Naturally, the snapped weapon failed to do its job, and both trolls remained unharmed. In an unbelievable state close to shock, I stared at the "broom" of metal rods held in my hand. The internal music that had been guiding me all this time instantly faded. On the echoes of its rhythm, barely in the last moment, I dodged the combined attack of the granite monsters. However, this movement lacked even a tenth of the beauty and grace I had demonstrated just moments before.
Because of such an absurdity...
Because of this incredible turn of events, I lost my spear, and the Dance abruptly ended. The five Full Talent Stars, recently shining with mithril on the Core, dimmed. And my pupils returned to normal, because it was improper for HER Reaper to appear in the world without a Scythe, even if this Scythe looked just like a simple crowbar.
Incredible fatigue descended upon the shoulders. Legs wobbled as if stuffed with cotton, and arms grew so heavy they seemed filled with liquid lead. Knees buckled on their own, and I began falling onto the rocky ground, collapsing to the side like a powerless toy whose batteries had run out. My immediate death was only averted because this fall was a complete surprise to the charging trolls. Both gigantic creatures couldn't adjust in time and passed over me, failing to grab me in their stone embraces. Moreover, by some miracle, they didn't crush me under their feet, which somewhat resembled the piles of a concrete bridge.
Before my eyes lay a veil of bloody mist. Surrendering myself entirely to the Dance, I inadvertently exceeded my limits and now reaped the consequences of that act. My strength had left me entirely. I could still move, but those movements were full of pain and fatigue, and most importantly, they were slow and sluggish. Too slow to dodge the next attack of the granite trolls.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Katashi throwing something in my direction. It turned out to be a flask of stamina potion, which hit me squarely in the forehead and shattered. The cool liquid flowed generously over my face, and some drops of the magical elixir landed on my lips. These drops were few, but they were enough to restore my strength for a moment, allowing me to spin on the ground like a cornered mongoose, thus dodging the trolls that had picked up speed.
The second flask, thrown by the Japanese, I caught consciously and immediately poured its entire contents into myself. Unlike the stamina potions on my belt, which acted slowly, Katashi's medical kit contained a more expensive alchemical preparation. His version of the potion restored much less energy, but it did so not gradually but almost instantly. That is, it gave a bit of strength immediately, like an injection of a whopping dose of adrenaline.
So, I met the next attack of the trolls on my feet. A wide step to the side, a spin that more resembled a ballet move, and the nearest monster just brushed past. And when its back was exposed, my palm, with an illusory Rune applied, lightly pushed the gigantic creature forward. Because of this seemingly weightless touch, the troll, instead of starting to brake, on the contrary, began to accelerate even more.
It kept accelerating like a Formula One car with the gas pedal stuck to the floor. Until its multi-ton granite bulk crashed into the cave wall at high speed. Following the impact, rock fragments fell from the ceiling, the floor quaked, and the monster's body, made of stones bound by dungeon magic, could not withstand and crumbled into its components.
It wasn't even half a minute before the last troll in the cave met the same fate as its brother. Specifically, after missing me and being touched by the Rune of Movement, it couldn't begin braking and continued to gain speed until a monolithic wall stopped its motion. The resulting crash was so loud that my ears were momentarily blocked.
This method of destroying these stone creatures came to me during the Dance. But at that moment, it seemed unaesthetic, too crude, ugly, and simple, which is why it was rejected. Now, the lack of aesthetics seemed questionable, as the power of the monotone granite monster hitting the wall was, to put it mildly, impressive, and the method proved to be not only spectacular but also extremely effective.
After taking a couple of dozen steps, I literally felt how, with every movement, strength again started to leave me. On the last dregs of energy, I poured one of my stamina potions into myself and sat down on the floor, leaning against the wall half a meter from Katashi.
The look the Japanese gave me expressed a strange range of feelings. An unusual emotional cocktail, the main ingredient of which, it seemed to me, was a deeply concealed apprehension and, possibly, even fear. Understanding that I had little strength left, I closed my eyes and whispered softly:
"Do not wake me; I'll wake up on my own…"
After which, I let fatigue and the overwhelming apathy carry my consciousness away on their waves.
I was awoken by a quiet, steady tapping on stone. Cracking my eyes open, I discerned the source of the sound. It was Katashi sitting in the corner of the cave, tapping with a small, almost toy-like hammer on the remains of the shattered golem. Suppressing the desire to stretch and yawn loudly, I instead closed my eyes tighter, pretending to still be asleep.
My internal biological clock suggested that about two, maybe two and a half hours had passed since I had blacked out, no more. Nevertheless, thanks to the stamina potions I had consumed, my body had more or less returned to the norm in such a short time. This "norm" was relative, of course, but even that was good. Because what I had experienced could have had much worse consequences.
Suppressing a heavy sigh, so as not to reveal that I was already awake, I reached for my Core, on whose surface burned a new entry, and the color of this was tinged with divine adamantium.
"Broken Avatar" - it read.
The last, albeit illusory, hope that everything that had recently happened was just a dream instantly evaporated the moment I saw the adamantium inscription. No, nothing was a figment of my imagination. Everything that had happened, indeed, was real. And what was truly astonishing was that I perfectly understood what exactly had occurred to me. Yes, this fact surprised me because, with a much higher probability, I should have woken up with a headache, remembering nothing.
But I remembered everything.
And these memories made me clench my teeth. Why was I such a fool?! After all, back after the fight with the Master of the Swamp, I had sworn not to resort to the Dance until I reached five Full Talent Stars in Spear. And yet, I broke that vow. But as if violating a promise to myself wasn't enough, before activating the Dance, I was convinced that I would perish and turned to Death. I turned not seriously but rather to push myself, and I did it mentally, not aloud. Nevertheless, my inner shout was heard, and one of the Aspects of Eternal Non-Existence noticed me. Non-Existence – that which was before Light and Darkness, that which preceded the emergence of Chaos and Order. That from which everything began and to which everything will ultimately return.
I was very lucky that the Aspect that noticed me was only a minor manifestation of Non-Existence. Because if the Primordial itself had "looked" at me, nothing would have been left of me, not even ashes. I would have dissipated into absolute Nothingness, as would everything around me: this cave, the region of Rur, and, I think, all of Ain as a whole.
However, calling it luck that you caught the interest of one of Death's manifestations wouldn't be quite accurate either.
Suppressing a heavy sigh again, I plunged back into my memories.
The Entity that noticed me does not have a name that can be pronounced using human speech. However, when I briefly became Her Avatar, I partly understood Her Essence to the extent my mind could grasp. The closest approximation of the Aspect of Non-Existence that turned its gaze upon me could be called the Lethal Beauty.
No, it wasn't my personality as such that attracted this Entity. To the Lethal Beauty, I was of little interest. What intrigued Her was the opportunity, a situation She deemed worthy of manifesting Her Beauty. Having been Her Manifestation for a while, I still remembered something akin to a feeling of anticipation, only much more complete and all-encompassing than what is accessible to humans. Moreover, for the Aspect of Lethal Beauty, the situation was intriguingly personal. Yes, exactly. Many thousands of years ago, a weapon forged by one of the gods inflicted unimaginable pain on the Lethal Beauty. A pain that lasted for centuries, and echoes of which She felt to this day. And now, a person with a Shard of the soul of the deity who forged that dreadful weapon was sitting in the corner of the cave next to me, tapping on stones with a small hammer.
And no, it wasn't just a thirst for revenge that made one of the minor Aspects of Non-Existence notice me. Equally compelling was the fact that this situation... opportunity... appeared Beautiful to the Entity. Exactly. From Her "point of view," the death of one who could regain divinity, by a weapon he forged himself, moreover, at the hands of one who most wished to preserve the future god's life - was worthy of Her attention. Besides, the Smith was to perish from the most pathetic and primitive weapon he ever forged in all his incarnations... All this made the situation so perversely Beautiful in the "eyes" of the minor Aspect of Non-Existence that She "could not pass by."
Of course, everything was far more complicated and multifaceted, but my mind could only comprehend this part. However, the plan of Lethal Beauty was not meant to come to fruition. I turned out to be a poor Avatar. Unreliable. Since I could only Comprehend and Accept Her Beauty during the Dance, instead of reaching this Comprehension on my own and Accepting Her with all my soul. Therefore, as soon as the spear in my hands broke and I was thrown out of the Dance, I stopped Seeing Her Beauty, which severed my connection with the minor Aspect of Non-existence.
As for why the spear-crowbar shattered so timely, I had two theories. The first, the simplest one, was that the notorious Shard's luck at play. And the second was that the weapon forged by one whose soul is close to divinity "decided" not to turn against its creator and destroyed itself. Although, it could very well be that the timely destruction of the spear-crowbar was a manifestation of both theories at once.
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This time, I had to suppress not a heavy sigh, but a laugh ready to burst from my lips. Returning to the adamantium record, I tried to understand its meaning. This was not easy and took me no less than ten minutes.
What I eventually saw made me frown. Because of the word "Broken" in the record, the new Achievement carried no energy. That is, the presence of this adamantium inscription did not bring me any closer to ascending to the next rank of Spiral of Elevation. It was more than frustrating, but since there was nothing I could do about it, all that remained was to accept the "injustice." Nonetheless, the record was not "empty" and endowed me with a certain property. A property that, perhaps, truly "deserved" to be adamantium. As the "explanation" for the record stated, I could now no longer become the Avatar of any Entity. Not at all. Neither by desire nor against my will. The property with which every intelligent being was "endowed" to some extent, "avatarhood," was now Broken in me. The only exception from this prohibition could be Elevation to Divinity and the voluntary acceptance of any of the Universe's Aspects. Initially, I considered this record not so much an Achievement as a Punishment, and its adamantium color I took as a final mockery of Lethal Beauty. But the "note" that no one and nothing can make me their Avatar, including against my will, made me reconsider this view. Having once felt what it's like to become the conduit of a foreign, moreover, utterly non-human will, I definitely did not want a repeat of such a situation. And the fact that the new record on the Core broke my "avatarhood" caused me only the most profound relief.
As this sigh of relief I no longer held back, Katashi heard it. The Japanese stopped another swing of his hammer, froze for a moment, and then, seemingly reluctantly, turned toward me. The smith's face appeared expressionless and was calm in an Eastern way, but by how he twirled the tool in his hands, I could tell that Kay was on edge. For a few seconds, the Japanese simply sat motionless, then, abruptly shaking his head, tucked the hammer into his pouch and, standing up, headed toward me. Thanks to the memories of the Last Cycle, I knew the future god of Labor very well, and I managed to notice that behind the mask of external calmness, every step towards me was taken by the blacksmith with considerable effort.
Stopping a meter and a half away, Katashi momentarily paused, and I didn't miss how his right hand twitched, reaching for the war hammer, but the Japanese quickly regained control and simply placed his hand on his belt. As regrettable as it was to admit, it seemed I had not been mistaken then, and the blacksmith had correctly understood my intentions when I was absorbed in the Dance. Of course, I could have tried to justify myself, attempt to chalk it all up to his imagination. But something told me that such a tactic wouldn't be successful. Instead, it would definitively set the Japanese against me, completely destroying even the minimal trust I had managed to establish.
"What was that?" Katashi's voice seemed absolutely calm, and only his pupils, meticulously tracking my every move, betrayed his nervousness.
"Specify your question." Yawning, I stretched with all my might, spreading my arms wide to the sides and extending my legs.
"Alright, I'll rephrase." The Japanese crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. "What came over you? Your movements, your combat rhythm, at one point, changed abruptly. And then you changed yourself. Not outwardly. You changed inside. But most importantly, your eyes became different."
"This wordplay doesn't suit you." A smile on my face only slightly resembled a smirk. "Speak plainly."
"Plainly?" The Japanese bared his teeth in response. "Fine. I'll say it plainly. You were going to kill me. I know it."
Despite the firmness in his tone, I felt that my current relaxed and natural behavior of a person who had just woken up confused him. Maybe, indeed, pretend to be very surprised by his words? Play offended, then convince Katashi that it was all a figment of his imagination caused by the wounds and injuries from the fight with the troll and rockjaws? "The past me," noticing the slight uncertainty in the Japanese, would not have failed to seize upon it and would definitely have tried to talk the blacksmith down. It was this comparison that put everything in its place. Holding Katashi's gaze, I raised my right eyebrow and, with a broad gesture, encompassed the cave, then said with a voice full of sarcasm:
"I was going to kill the rockjaws. They're dead. I was going to kill the stone spiders. They're dead. I was going to kill the trolls. They're dead." Locking eyes with the Japanese again, I continued. "Will you continue the list? Or should I?"
"Do you mean to say that if you were planning to kill me, I would already be dead?" Katashi's grin turned angrier. "But the thing is, during that fight, you changed twice. And after the second change, when only two trolls were left, and the spear-blank I gave you became useless, your desire to kill me vanished, and you became yourself again."
"Became myself again…" I repeated. "Are you suggesting that I'm unstable and can't be trusted?"
"I'm not suggesting; I'm stating it as it is." There was a metallic tone in the blacksmith's voice.
"Well, since you've already made up your mind and classified me as a dangerous lunatic…"
Getting to my feet, I dusted off the stone chips, opened my belt pouch, and took out another stamina potion. I drank the thick concoction leisurely, wiped my lips with my sleeve, and finished with a sad smile:
"I see no point in continuing our conversation further. Let's finish this dungeon and part ways, like ships in the sea."
"Just like that?" Katashi inquired with a frown.
"Why complicate things?" I responded to his question with another question and, after a short pause, added. "You've already made up your mind, haven't you? You have. And I won't trust my back to someone who sees me as a dangerous psychopath ready to kill their partner."
Katashi would have responded in the same manner to such an accusation, and my words breached his defense.
"What, you won't even try to justify yourself?"
This question revealed the Japanese's perplexity. While I was sleeping, he apparently went through numerous conversation scenarios, yet none of them unfolded as it was happening now.
"I would explain if you asked," I said irritably, shrugging my shoulders. "But justifying myself is not in my nature." Again, I mimicked the manners of that Katashi, who the "past me" knew.
"Do you have an explanation?" He didn't even hide his distrust, demonstrating it with his entire demeanor.
"I have the truth. But it's pointless to say anything to someone who's already made up their mind and won't listen." I brushed off his question and, walking past the blacksmith, bent over the remains of the spear-crowbar.
To my regret, the weapon was utterly ruined and beyond repair. Throwing the twisted steel rods into a corner of the cave, I turned to the Japanese, who was still standing in the same pose, as if waiting for me to continue. Contrary to his expectations, however, I abruptly changed the subject.
"I need to return to the entrance Gates and retrieve my spear. It's too light against such enemies, of course, but without a spear in hand, I feel as though I'm naked," having said that, with confident strides, I moved in the indicated direction. Passing by Katashi, I added, "Don't worry, just two more times as much, and the dungeon is cleared. And since I already know how to kill trolls, this clearing won't take long, and we will part ways."
By my estimates, we had spent about three hours in the dungeon, meaning we still had nine hours left before the dungeon reset, so there was no need to hurry unnecessarily. Therefore, having returned to the corridor through which we had come, I walked at a leisurely, calm pace.
Well, I miscalculated; the dialogue strategy I had chosen turned out to be a failure, and the blacksmith was now going to put me on the list of those not worth associating with. This outcome was highly undesirable, but overall, even this was not critical. Because the information I had already managed to pass on to the future God of Labor should have helped him avoid the mistakes made in the Last Cycle. Yes, one always wants more, but it was better for him to think of me as dangerous rather than deceitful and devious. Knowing the smith's character, I thought that with the first option, it was still possible to work and even turn it to my advantage when the Invasion and the threat of demons became evident, but the second would definitely put an end to any further communication.
Returning to the items left at the Entrance, I first replenished my potions, and then, reaching for the spear, I whispered almost inaudibly, apologizing in advance:
"I'll try to be careful with the rocks." And only after promising this did I take the Striking Whisper.
"I'm ready to listen," came a voice from behind me.
Darn it! I nearly jumped out of my skin from surprise! Yes, I was lost in thought, and not expecting an attack, I had deactivated all Auras to conserve energy, yet Katashi's approach was so silent that it took me by surprise. Striking Whisper described an arc, and the sharp blade of my weapon rested on the blacksmith's right shoulder, stopping a centimeter from his neck. Not a single muscle on the Japanese's face twitched; he remained standing as before, not taking a step back, not trying to dodge or move away.
"So, now you're not afraid of me," I said, continuing to hold the spear.
"Now I'm not," Katashi replied without daring to nod, freezing as if he were a statue.
"Then what are you accusing me of?"
"Are you a kyosenshi?" Noticing the confusion in my eyes, he corrected himself. "Someone who draws strength from their rage. In the West, such people are called berserkers. These are warriors who, in the fervor of battle, can no longer distinguish friend from foe, often killing both enemies and allies."
"No," I answered, immediately adding, "but it's not all so simple and clear-cut."
Moving my spear away from the blacksmith's neck, I leaned on it like a weary traveler, and extending my open palm forward, I began to demonstrate the Symbols of my Achievements, changing them so quickly that even Katashi couldn't grasp their meaning.
"In my arsenal of techniques and skills, there is a unique high-ranked ability. I call it 'Dance.' And this name didn't come from nowhere. And it's not quite right to call it an ability... 'Dance' is not a technique either; it's more like a special state that allows me to temporarily unlock the full potential of my Talent Stars in Spear."
"A state?" The Japanese accurately identified the key word.
"It cannot be called either the berserk's fury or the flow state known as satori; it's different. The closest description would be... delighting in the beauty of battle. A complete immersion in this beauty. Where each movement of yours and your enemies' forms a kind of a dance. And the more dangerous this dance, the better. This ability is something like an ultimate skill I resort to only in hopeless situations. The reason for its selective use is that, as long as my Talent Stars do not match the rank, this state partially subdues me to its will. It's hard to describe, but while using the Dance, I'm torn between two desires. The first is to make the fight beautiful. And the second, for the battle to last as long as possible."
"It subdues," and once again, the Japanese accurately pinpointed the key word.
"It's not all that simple and straightforward. As you've understood from my words, I've resorted to the Dance before," a faint smile appeared on my face. "But, let's just say, I've always had enough self-control to stop in time."
"So, you had everything under control in this fight too?" Curiosity tinged the blacksmith's voice, but I felt that if I simply answered "yes," he, pretending to believe, would actually brand me a liar.
"No," I replied frankly. "Firstly, I do not resort to the Dance when everything is going normally. It's my last argument. And the situation was such that we would eventually have been crushed, and you were already seriously injured, so I decided it was worth the risk."
"I remember the moment you changed, and yes, I agree, the situation was critical."
"And secondly," I continued, as if not noticing the Japanese's words, "as soon as I used the Dance, everything went wrong." A symbol of the Achievement, "Broken Avatar," appeared above my palm, and I held it there so that Katashi could fully "read" it.
"Adamantium?!" The Japanese's surprise was understandable, but as he Understood the Sign more, the surprise on his usually impassive face became more pronounced. "So, you..." he began, but apparently unable to formulate, fell silent.
"Yes," I continued for him, understanding his train of thought. "Now I realize that I made a big mistake back then. But at that moment, when we were cornered and death was near, activating the Dance seemed like the only way out. My mistake was that before I initiated the Dance, I mentally uttered the saying, 'If I'm to die, I'll go down swinging.' Apparently, this mindset and thoughts drew the attention of the Entity I came to call the Lethal Beauty." This time, my honesty faltered, but to fully explain what happened would mean telling Katashi that he had the soul of a god within him, and that was certainly not in my plans, so I resorted to a half-truth. "Then, against my will, I became the Avatar of this Entity. And it was probably at that moment that you felt the thirst for Death emanating from me."
"Your eyes at that moment... It seemed to me..." Katashi shook his head and finished doubtfully, "that there was some rune burning in them."
"Correct." An image emerged on my palm. "This is the Nergal Rune, the Rune of Death."
"You didn't say you knew this Rune." The Japanese frowned.
"And I didn't know." I shrugged. "But when under the influence of the powerful Aspect of Non-existence, your pupils change, taking the form of a Rune, you involuntarily learn it."
"So, I wasn't imagining it." The Japanese concluded. "You were really planning to kill me."
"Not quite right. It's not in my nature to wish for the death of a partner."
"And yet…"
"And yet we are alive," I interrupted the Japanese sharply, even irritably. "And that's all that matters."
"But…"
"What 'but'? Are you alive? You are. If I hadn't activated the Dance then, and those two trolls crushed me, would you have made it out alive? No, you wouldn't have. And you understand this as well as I do. Yes, I won't argue: for some time, I was dangerous to everyone. That's true, and I don't deny it. But it was the manifestation of someone else's will, not my own desire to kill. Moreover, a manifestation that will never happen again," The sign of the new Achievement flared up over my palm again. "Take a closer look, and you'll see that I've permanently lost the 'avatarhood' trait." Pointing the Achievement literally in the blacksmith's nose, I added with resentment in my voice. "I'm slightly disappointed that you can't see the obvious."
"I can't see?" Katashi said in puzzlement, taking his eyes off the "Broken Avatar" Sign.
"Doesn't the fact that we're alive show that I found a way to deal with the situation?"
"Found a way to deal?.."
Sighing heavily, I explained:
"Yes, I realized that the Lethal Beauty was drawn to my Dance. And since the Dance is a spear skill, I deliberately broke my spear... thereby interrupting the skill's effect, which immediately severed the connection with the Lethal Beauty and saved our lives."
They say the grander the lie, the more eagerly people would believe it, and right now, I was witnessing the truth of that statement firsthand. Something changed in Katashi's eyes; the tension and distrust vanished from his gaze.
"Thank you," said the Japanese, offering his hand for a handshake, but I pointedly ignored the gesture, and the blacksmith added, "My apologies."
Hearing what I wanted, I firmly shook the calloused hand of the future god of Labor.