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Chapter 42: Hurricane

Tanya wasn’t entirely sure what she should’ve been doing.

There were six of those hideous things—she refused to call them monsters, even in her mind. Miasma crawled and twisted all around them. But the only thing she had eyes for was Lukas himself. The pyromancer stood in the center, blade in each hand. Both of his legs were cemented to the floor, unmoving.

But the rest of his body was a blur.

Lukas fought three of them at once. Like a lunatic woodchipper, his blades met flesh. Tentacles fell one after another, unable to survive his onslaught despite layers of thick endoskeleton and slime. Tanya knew those daggers were sharp, but this was the first time she realized how horrifically powerful they were in close combat.

“HAAA!” he yelled, as his blades cut off one of their legs in a clean sweep, carving through muscle and bone as thick as a tree trunk without slowing down in the slightest.

One of its many mouths spit corrosive acid at his face, only for the droplets to freeze midair. Lukas swept his blades through the floating acid and drove it straight into a second one’s head.

Her eyes widened as the monster’s arm, composed of a great many tentacles to form an incredibly dense limb, exploded in a shower of gore. She didn’t know what the pyromancer had done, but his single punch had obliterated the entire tentacle-arm. And he wasn’t even using fire.

A second later, several pairs of tentacles, two legs, and a crushed head dropped to the floor, unmoving.

Lukas didn’t seem to care. He just went on to his next target.

Tanya reflexively swallowed. She was capable of some high-speed swordcraft herself, but this was something else. It was hideous. The empty cleaving of a butcher, without regard to skill or artistry. It was fast, and strong, and every single attack struck with unerring precision, and the sound of metal hacking into flesh.

The miasma hissed as it rose from the floor, before converging into pieces of bodily tissue that slithered about, before combining again and coming back to life.

“Oh, no,” Tanya snarled. “No one said you could do that!”

Everfrost pierced through its leg, and almost immediately, hoarfrost covered the surface and began to drink the miasma’s power. Crystals of growing, putrid ice, black and twisted from the corrupted lifeforce, began to rise all around the fallen body tissue.

But then a writhing tendril of shadows slammed against it, shattering the outgrowth into pieces.

Tanya grimaced. This grotesque thing even used lifeforce differently. She was no expert, but she knew lifeforce to be a useful tool for creation, rejuvenation, and fortification. But tonight, she was witnessing a fourth use of it. One not very prevalent in bremetan society.

Decay.

WAAANNNNNCCHHHHH!

The sound was less like noise and more like getting dunked into a vat of sewage. Tanya staggered back, no longer able to breathe. There was a building pressure against her skin, and her ears burned with pain. She dropped to one knee and clutched her ears as her entire body shook, leaving her dizzy and disoriented. A sound of something swooping made her raise her head, and she instantly froze as a contorted tentacle-limb plunged toward her. Before she could so much as think about moving, a blade came tearing through the air, pinning it down to the ground.

And then it was yanked back into Lukas’s hand.

“Tanya?” she heard Lukas ask, his entire form spattered with monster blood. “Are you alright?”

“No,” she said, anger and humiliation choking her voice. “No, I’m really, really not.”

And then Lukas was gone again, lost to the raging storm of battle. He parried blows from a gigantic limb as it swooped down to impale his heart, but sidestepped and chopped at it from the middle, slicing it in half. It didn’t matter that he was surrounded by the miasma, or that the creatures around him were just as quick to regenerate as he was at incapacitating them.

Tanya slowly realized that Lukas simply did not care.

“Now!” came his voice. Tanya jolted, then immediately sent a fresh torrent of arctic frost at the monsters. Hoarfrost spread across their bodies, coating them with dark, corrupted rime once more. Lukas made a motion with his hand, and a moment later, the ice shattered into pieces.

“Yeah, this miasma definitely classifies as a failsafe for the anomaly,” he chuckled, eyeing the hulking deformities around them. “Dumpy here was a lot faster than he looked.”

“He?” Tanya asked.

“Hmm? Do you think it’s a she?” He cocked his head, watching as the miasma slowly coalesced, giving birth to more monsters. Freezing them was a stop-gap measure at best as long as the miasma existed. He had to know that. So why did he keep trying the same strategy?

“This regen is such bullshit. Formless ghol have nothing on them.” He snickered, as if it was a joke only he understood. “Although…you!” he yelled at one of the remaining creatures, before speeding forward and hacking at its leg, dropping it to the floor. He reared back his fist and let it fly, and a moment later, there was no more monster.

Until its tendrils reformed and it began regenerating. Again.

A foreboding feeling overwhelmed Tanya as she saw the amused expression on Lukas’s face.

“So weird,” he dryly replied. “No matter where you cut it, it just keeps coming back.” He cupped his chin, as if deep in thought. “I wonder what’ll make it stay dead.”

“Are you…are you enjoying this?” she asked, a hint of fear in her voice despite herself.

Lukas blinked owlishly, before staring at her incredulously. “Are you not?”

“Of course not!” she snapped at him. “Use your fucking fire attacks already. Killing them is obviously child’s play to you, so why not just finish it already?”

He flashed her a mad grin. “First of all, it wouldn’t be any fun if I did that. Second, using fire has its demerits. And third, I genuinely can’t kill them. At least not as they are now.” His brows furrowed as he paused to consider his words. “Come to think of it, that last one should’ve been the first reason.”

“But—” Tanya tried.

“I’ve had enough time to analyze this creature,” the pyromancer explained, almost like he was giving her a lecture. “Unless you can freeze the entirety of this miasma all at once, it won’t die. But since you can’t do that, I’ll just have to keep on killing it. Until it gives up on me, or the anomaly gives up on the monster. One second, please excuse me—”

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Lukas suddenly spun around, slashing at the next unfortunate thing that came hurtling his way.

“What the hell, man!” He glared at the creatures, waving his hands angrily. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of a conversation here?”

Tanya staggered back. She couldn’t tell who she was more afraid of.

Lukas’s good mood was gone, as he glared down at the quivering mass of shadows and miasma like it was the root of all the world’s problems. “I swear no matter how many times I kill this thing, it just won’t die.” He looked up and stared at Tanya imploringly. “You agree with me, right? This is wrong! People die when they’re killed. This thing should too!”

“I…yes. It should.”

He wolfishly grinned. “See? There’s gotta be laws about this stuff. If you’re killed, you die. You move on. Allow the next monster to do its shit. Die and let die, you know?”

She took another step back.

“Well,” Lukas said, clearly lost in his own world, “I can’t say I’m terribly upset about any of this. Ever since, well, recently, I’ve been itching for a good battle. You know how itches can be. Absolutely maddening, I tell you.”

“Yeah,” she murmured, wondering if she would even contribute to this fight at all. “I can see that.”

“Thought so,” Lukas continued, oblivious to her expression. “Hey, can your friend also get me set up as an adventurer in Haviskali?”

Tanya knew she had one of the fastest growths as an adventurer in Haviskali’s recent history, but her situation was unique. This lunatic, on the other hand? She wouldn’t be surprised if he was sitting on the top of the Haviskali Guild food chain by the end of the week. And that was just considering everything he could do with lifeforce alone.

She paused, an idea forming in her mind.

Maybe—just maybe—if she played her cards right, she could use this to her advantage. Between the two of them, they’d make one hell of a team, especially now that she could use her ice powers without losing herself in the process.

Another thing I’m thankful for.

Tanya glanced toward him. Whether he was slightly unhinged or not, she was glad things turned out the way they did. And that was without considering the constant itch she felt for him because of whatever he’d done to her, with the added effect of the Frost whispering to her.

She looked back at the walls as the miasma slid down to the floor. For a moment, Tanya feared an all-out strike. But as anxious seconds passed without tentacular monsters showing up, a different realization came to pass.

They weren’t going to attack.

“Is it…” she hesitantly asked. “Are they not coming back?”

Lukas didn’t answer.

“Lukas?” she asked again.

“Shhh…hang on. Something is happening.”

That didn’t inspire hope in her. Forming a wind blade in her palm, she glared nervously at the black sludge lying motionless near their feet. The pyromancer seemed almost frozen, staring at the sludge with an intense look, as if trying to decipher a complex problem only he could see. Finally, after a series of excruciating seconds, he exhaled, and looked back up at her.

“Never mind. It’s dead.”

Tanya arched an eyebrow. “You sound almost disappointed.”

“Maybe I am.” He chuckled. “All this fighting, and then the anomaly just cuts off its power supply. That’s what killed it. Not our efforts. Feels anticlimactic if you ask me.”

She rolled her eyes. “What a pity. But take heart. I don’t think it's quite dead yet.”

“And why d’you say that?”

“Well for one thing, I haven’t gained any Experience from it. Have you?”

She didn’t miss the sudden stiffening in his posture. “Trust me. It’s dead,” he replied.

Her belly tightened. It was obvious there was something going on, and she wasn’t privy to the full picture. Whatever had happened with the black sludge, it was clear Lukas knew more than she did. Just like their fight. A fight where she remembered kicking his ass, and at the same time, remembered being played with by the same individual. Two opposite realities, both superimposed into a single, muddy memory.

It was driving her insane.

“Something the matter?” he asked.

Tanya’s expression bled off her face. “No. Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Didn’t seem like—urgh!”

The rest of his words died in his throat as Lukas lurched backward, his eyes as wide as dinner plates. The blades fell from his shaking fingers and onto the floor with a loud clang! His entire body trembled as if he’d been hit by a hundred of those kinetic waves he threw around without a care. Before Tanya could take stock of the situation, he’d fallen to his knees, gasping in anguish. Rich, crimson blood oozed out of his ears and nose, and even his fingernails.

“What—”

The word came out as a mix between a scream and a croak. His vocal cords visibly contorted, causing him to choke on blood as it dripped from the corners of his mouth. His eyes bulged out, as if they were trying to tear their way out of his face. His nails angrily scratched the floor in a frenzy as copious amounts of lifeforce emanated from him in thick, overwhelming waves.

“Wha”—screech!—“what is happe—nnninnggg!”

The grating sound that emanated from his throat was like dragging rusted iron against glass. Crackling and squelching noises came from his twitching body, as if he were being zapped by lightning.

It was a gruesome sight.

Tanya slowly reached out to touch him, but couldn’t. For all her curiosity, there was just something utterly repulsive about him. Her instincts screamed at her to go away, to escape while there was still time and ample opportunity.

But she didn’t. Instead, she stood there, hands raised, paralyzed with indecision.

Lukas snapped his neck in her direction, his eyes rolled back enough that she could only see the whites of his eyeballs. His teeth gnashed together, and reddish drool flowed from his lips like a waterfall.

“Ru—nghaaah!”

Blood splattered across the floor.

“Rghunnnnnnnnh!” he yelled, his voice louder, larger, thrumming with power.

Tanya stilled.

“RUNNNNNGHHHHHNNNN!” he roared, raising his right hand as he punched—

Space itself was distorted in its wake. The entire floor was drowned by the sound of a howling wind as the air between his punch and the stone floor rippled, sending a shockwave of invisible force hurling forward, smashing against the wind barrier she had hastily raised.

It was all that saved her life. Her windshield lit up like a floodlight, and if she hadn’t been able to smooth it out and take it evenly across the whole front of her body, it might have broken her nose or ribs or collarbone, depending on where the energy bled through. Instead it felt like she had been hit with one of those clubs the jotunn of the Far North used for battles.

Meanwhile, the deafening sound met the cavernous walls of stone around them and—

Stone gave out first.

The mighty walls buckled as a spider web of fractures twisted their way through the slabs, expanding at an alarming rate. Crevices the size of roads emerged on the floor’s surface, starting from where he stood and spreading in all directions. It was as if the entire floor was a touch away from shattering like glass.

And in the middle of it all, stood Lukas.

Only…he was different now. So much more.

An aura descended upon the cavern, an all-consuming feeling of rage and bloodlust backed by a power as implacable and unyielding as a mountain. It was far beyond any mere matter of strength, but rather a sensation both primal and terrible that flooded into her consciousness. It was the feeling of a rabbit that had been cornered by a wolf, helpless and terrified in the wake of its fate.

Tanya found herself unable to move, her pain momentarily forgotten. Gone were the wolfish grin and the casual demeanor her companion had portrayed. His eyes were now pale red, pulsing with rage as Decay, dark and twisted and oh so potent, spiraled out of him like ribbons. The mindless, impossible power he exuded rooted her to the spot. It was worse than her blackest nightmares, like staring at an incoming hurricane, frozen in fear and awe alike by the unimaginable destructive potential and the prospect of certain death.

And in that moment, she came to an understanding.

This was no warrior.

Lukas was something more. A destroyer. A being wholly dedicated to the obliteration of life. He had no purpose but to attack. Attacking with relentless fury and unstoppable force until his target was nothing but wet meat on the ground. And then he would choose another target, then another, then another until he was surrounded by nothing but dust and blood.

That very same Lukas turned to her with bloodshot eyes. And again, he repeated the same command.

“Run.”