Holding the blade firmly, my right foot moved forward, the familiar weight of the weapon grounding me in the moment. In previous encounters—whether against Jack and his entourage, the workers, or literally any other—I often found myself grappling with a subtle clumsiness, a disconnect between skill intention and execution. The fights themselves proceeded without flaw, but my movements felt disjointed, as if I were a puppeteer struggling to control his own strings. It was a frustration I couldn't shake..
But now, as I stood poised for battle, a revelation dawned upon me. I realized that I had achieved a state of unity, a synchronization of body and skill that transcended mere physical prowess. I was not just wielding the blade; I was embodying it, an extension of its lethal potential. In this moment, I was more than just a fighter; I was a vessel for the System, I found my 'soul'. Perhaps it was the depletion of my soul stat that led me to this point, draining away the distractions and uncertainties that had clouded my perception. Or perhaps it was simply the culmination of my journey, the culmination of countless trials and tribulations that had forged me into the warrior I had become. Too bad I couldn't use it for long.
As the anticipation coiled within me, a sudden sound shattered the silence—a heavy footstep echoing. My gaze snapped towards the source of the disturbance, and there he stood: Time, whose physique had undergone a startling transformation. This is similar to when I first got the Book. His once slender frame now bulged with newfound muscle. I knew that the time for hesitation had passed. With every fiber of my being aligned, I stepped forward, ready to meet my adversary head-on.
Moving another step forward, I could feel the weight of each movement reverberate through the ground beneath me. Time mirrored my advance, his steps echoing mine with an unsettling precision. With each footfall, the black concrete cracked and groaned, succumbing to the force of our synchronized motion. The once-solid surface now bore the unmistakable imprint of our confrontation.
As we continued our measured approach, the ground seemed to yield beneath us, forming deep craters that mirrored the shape of our feet. Each step was a declaration of our bloodlust. Yet, just when I thought I had a read on Time's movements, he abruptly came to a halt. Instinctively, I followed suit, my muscles tensing as I braced for the next exchange. His eyes, once vibrant with life, now seemed devoid of any spark, devoid of any hint of humanity. It was as if he were peering into the void itself, his gaze unfathomable and impenetrable.
There was a surreal quality to his presence, a sense of otherworldliness that sent a shivers down my neck. His irises, once a gentle shade of green, now blazed with an eerie crimson hue. A pang of empathy tugged at my heartstrings, a fleeting desire to reach out and offer aid to the person I once knew. But I quickly banished the thought, reminding myself that this was a path he had chosen, a path that diverged from redemption long ago. With a steadying breath, I tore my gaze away from his unsettling visage, focusing instead on the center of his chest. It was a fundamental principle of combat, a simple yet immutable truth: all movements, all intentions, stemmed from the core. And so, I fixed my sights on my target, ready to meet whatever attack Time would throw my way.
He extended his right arm with meticulous precision, fingers curling into a tight fist that served as a grim harbinger of his impending strike. With his right fist primed for assault, he shifted his weight slightly, positioning his left arm in a defensive posture that seemed almost unconventional. I couldn't help but feel a surge of unease as I registered the unexpected configuration of his guard. His left hand, normally positioned to shield his face, now lay diagonally across his features, the back of his fist turned towards me in a disconcerting display of defiance. He blocked his left eye. It was a subtle deviation from the norm, one that hinted at a hidden agenda lurking beneath the surface. Despite the unsettling revelation, I knew better than to underestimate the threat he posed. The chasm between our respective stats loomed large, a glaring reminder of the perilous imbalance that tilted the odds heavily in his favor. A single blow from him could spell instant death.
While the red electricity honed in, I tightened my grip on the katana, its weight a comforting anchor. Raising the blade to an attacking position, I adopted the most aggressive stance at my disposal, a calculated gambit that minimized unnecessary movement while maximizing offensive potential. It was a risky maneuver, but in the face of overwhelming odds, it was the only option I had left.
His foot rose with an almost seismic force, the sheer power of his movement sending chunks of concrete hurtling through the air like shrapnel. The ground beneath him quaked in protest. As he propelled himself forward, the entire colosseum seemed to tremble in response, the very foundation of the arena shaken by the sheer force of his momentum.
"You'll never be anything in life, Oren," Jack's voice dripped with disdain as he towered over me, his words laced with venomous mockery. "At the end of the day, yes, I am beating the s**t out of you, for little to no reason. But you, Oren, are weak. You aren't fighting back." His taunts went deep, but I knew it couldn't be true or even moral. Anger surged within me, a fiery defiance that threatened to consume my every thought. "So you know you're doing something wrong, and blaming me for being the victim?!" I shot back, my voice laced with indignation.
In response, Jack's foot lashed out, striking the wall with a resounding thud just inches above my shoulder. Leaning in close, his breath hot against my ear, he sneered, "Yeah, I am. I'm not a mortal like you." I refused to back down, my fingers curling around his leg in a desperate attempt to assert some semblance of control. "I would try anything if I could, it's because of this stupid skill!" I cried out, frustration bubbling to the surface. But Jack's resolve remained unyielding, his leg a pillar of unmovable strength beneath my grasp. With a swift motion, he delivered a punishing blow to my side, the force of his punch sending me reeling. "It is your skill, but who's to blame? God? The Devil? Whoever you choose to blame, it doesn't matter, it's still your skill! Yours! Unique to you!" he spat, his words dripping with contempt. I struggled to muster the strength to meet his gaze, my vision swimming with pain and exhaustion. And as Jack's laughter filled the air, a cruel echo of my own torment, I felt the weight of his words bearing down upon me like a suffocating blanket. With a heavy heart, I resigned myself to the relentless onslaught, knowing that the memory of this moment would haunt me long after the bruises had faded. The memory quickly faded, and I was happy it was leaving.
My foot rose with an almost seismic force, the sheer power of my movement sending chunks of concrete hurtling through the air like shrapnel. The ground beneath him quaked in protest. As I propelled myself forward, the entire colosseum seemed to tremble in response, the very foundation of the arena shaken by the sheer force of my momentum.
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"Did Jack beat you again?" Aroha's voice was gentle, a soothing balm against the rawness of my wounds. Her hands, delicate and tender, traced the contours of my bruised skin with a careful precision, her touch a stark contrast to the violence that had left its mark upon me. I met her inquiry with a heavy silence. Sensing my reticence, she spoke again, her tone tinged with true worry. "I'm sorry, Oren," she murmured, her words a lamentation for the helplessness that bound us both. "Sorry for the fact that we can't do anything. Maybe you can try going to a different school?" Her suggestion hung in the air, pregnant with unspoken implications. Did she want me to leave? The thought sent a surge of indignation coursing through my veins, my fists clenching at my sides in a silent protest. "Do you want me to leave or something?!" I demanded, my voice edged with frustration. "This is the only school that is public around here, I can't afford to go anywhere else."
As Aroha continued to tend to my injuries, her movements slow and deliberate, a sudden twinge of pain caused me to flinch. She recoiled instinctively, her expression reflecting a mixture of sympathy and regret. But then, with a resolve born of love, she spoke the words I needed to hear. "Of course I don't want you to leave," she reassured me, her voice soft yet resolute. "I just want you to be happy. You're... just not happy right now." A wave of emotion washed over me, my vision blurring with unshed tears as her words pierced through the veil of my despair. In that fleeting moment, amidst the chaos and uncertainty that surrounded us, I found solace in the unwavering support of the one person who had never faltered in her belief in me. And as the memory faded into the recesses of my mind, I clung to her words like a lifeline, a beacon of hope in the darkness that threatened to consume me.
We were hurtling forward with a relentless urgency, propelled by a sense of determination that bordered on desperation. Every step felt like an eternity, the passage of time stretching thin as if caught in the gravitational pull of some unseen force. Yet despite our breakneck pace, the world around us seemed to grind to a halt, each moment elongated into an eternity of uncertainty. As we drew closer, the space between us dwindling with each passing second, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was amiss. Time's features, which was twisted with anger and malice in the early stages of his transformation, now seemed to betray a different emotion entirely. Was it sadness that flickered in his eyes, a shadow of remorse etched upon his brow? Or was it merely a trick of the light, an illusion borne of the chaos that surrounded us? With bated breath, our bodies finally collided in the center of the arena, a mere few feet separating us from one of our deaths.
"You know, I think you're going to go far." Tony's voice carrying a note of genuine admiration. His fist hovered just inches from my face, a potent reminder of the restraint he exercised against me. Surprised by his praise, I couldn't help but voice my skepticism. "Really? You think so? You're still much stronger than me." I replied, my tone tinged with a hint of uncertainty. But Tony shook his head, a reassuring smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Your progress is amazing, dude," he insisted, his confidence unwavering. "You'll surpass me very shortly, and when you do, I hope I'll be there to see it." His words struck a chord deep within me, stirring a sense of determination that had lain dormant for far too long. With a grateful nod, I offered a simple yet heartfelt response. "Thanks, Tony," I murmured, my voice heavy with emotion. And then, as quickly as the memory had come, it faded into the recesses of my mind, leaving behind a lingering sense of hope.
I steeled myself, my nerves taut with anticipation as we both unleashed our respective attacks upon each other. His fist, a weapon of brute force; my katana, a razor-sharp edge honed through countless battles in Kayuga's hands. Now, it's my turn. In that split-second exchange, time seemed to slow to a stop. With a resounding clash, my katana met his uppercut head-on, the force of our collision sending shockwaves rippling through the air. The blade bit deep into his flesh, slicing through skin and sinew with a merciless efficiency. His digit finger was the first casualty, severed cleanly by the relentless momentum of my strike. But I pressed on, my bloodlust unyielding as I continued to drive the blade forward. Despite the resistance I encountered, I refused to falter, my determination fueling each muscle fiber. Blood flowed freely from his wounds, a crimson testament to the severity of the damage wrought by my katana.
As the blade carved its path through his body, Time's eyes followed its trajectory with resignation. His gaze locked with mine, a silent plea for an end to his suffering echoing in the depths of his soul. But I had no choice but to press onward, my breath ragged with exertion as I summoned every ounce of strength within me. And then, with a final, decisive strike, I plunged the blade deep into his chest, the guttural sound of rending flesh echoing through the arena. His mouth moved in a desperate attempt to speak, but his words were lost to the roar of battle that surrounded us. With a swift motion, I severed his body in two, the force of my blow sending shockwaves reverberating through the very fabric of reality. The wind howled as his left half was hurled into the fighter entrance, while his right half remained standing.
With the adrenaline of battle still coursing through my veins, I remained frozen in the aftermath of my decisive strike. The air crackled with tension as I held my post-slice pose, my gaze fixed upon the ground below. Slowly, almost reluctantly, I began to lower myself to the earth, my muscles trembling with exhaustion from the exertion of my final attack. With each movement, I felt the strain etched into my very soul, and I haven't even felt it yet.
As my knees bent and I sank to the ground, I braced myself for the impact, my hand instinctively reaching out to steady myself with the hilt of my katana. The blade sank into the earth with a soft thud, its steel gleaming dully in the fading light of the arena. Breathing heavily, I closed my eyes, allowing myself a moment of respite amidst the chaos that surrounded me. Every muscle in my body screamed with exhaustion, the aftermath of my risky gambit playing out before me in agonizing slow motion.
And so, I waited, my senses keenly attuned to the consequences of my actions, ready to face whatever fate awaited me on the other side of this harrowing ordeal.
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WARNING: YOU HAVE DROPPED DOWN TO '-370 SOUL'.. SEVERE CONSEQUENCES WILL OCCUR.. NOW!
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"There it is. Now what are you going to hit me with this time?" I challenged, my voice laced with defiance as I braced myself for the inevitable retaliation. But before I could decipher my next move, a wave of disorientation washed over me, leaving my senses reeling in its wake. My body seemed to betray me, losing all semblance of control as it crumpled to the ground with an unsettling finality. I lay there, helpless and vulnerable, my head turned to the side as if in silent resignation to my fate. As darkness crept into the edges of my vision, I caught a fleeting glimpse of something sinister lurking in the broad daylight—a black goat, its eyes gleaming with a whole other dimension of malice. I felt as though my soul was up for grabs. And as the darkness enveloped me, I knew with a chilling certainty that I had stumbled upon something far more sinister than human imagination.
But before I could muster a coherent thought, before I could even draw breath to scream, my vision was swallowed whole by the inky blackness, leaving me stranded in a void of endless nothingness.
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Quest 10: Number One (COMPLETED)
You did it.. at a price.
Rewards:
5000 points
Tips:
I hope you make it out.
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