I gazed sidelong, tracing the path of the descending sun, its fiery hues painting my view. "How beautiful it is." I murmured, a pang of nostalgia gripping my heart. Recruitment materialized, a figure in the fading light, a glint of steel in his right hand. "Yes, yes. Look at the beautiful sun," he intoned softly, his voice a siren's call amidst the silence, "keep your mind off this." Recruitment knelt beside me, his intent clear as he aimed the knife. The blade, a cold promise, pierced the air with its gleaming edge. And then, with a swift, merciless motion, it drove through my skull, into the sanctuary of my brain. Each nanosecond stretched into eternity as I felt it, the searing material tearing through my flesh, my conscious enabling the feeling. In that moment, all I wished for was release. Blood blossomed, a crimson bloom upon the earth, as life ebbed away, seeping into the waiting embrace of the ground. And with a final, fleeting breath, my eyes closed.
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Soul: 210 (-80)
Skills:
Lvl. 3 Lazarus - After being given a fatal blow or when your health becomes 0, revive with half of your health restored and an increase to all your stats. 80 soul to use, one month cooldown. (Activated) The one month cooldown has commenced.
Stats:
Health: 4300 (+4300)
Strength: 600 (+130)
Speed: 650 (+150)
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My eyes fluttered open, brimmed with a torrent of emotion and vitality, a spark of resilience igniting within me. Lightning crackled, a wild dance across the fractured earth, the air itself charged. The knife, once embedded into my skull, sprouted forth from my skull as my body embarked on its repair. Recruitment recoiled, disbelief etched across his features, his voice trembling with incredulity. "How?! I made sure to stab the brain! Your skill—"
He made one fatal error in his train of thought. This extraordinary resurrection stemmed from a simple misunderstanding, a misconception that my skill couldn't endure the obliteration of my brain. Some dormant part of my consciousness whispered assent, acknowledging that a sinful part of me just wanted my suffering to end. Yet, a fiercer, more primal instinct beat it, a fervent desire for retribution, to ensure that Recruitment tasted his judgement. Recruitment, his retreat a desperate scramble backward, widened the chasm of distance between us. With a flick of his hand, he summoned Jun and Adalard, their forms rising from the earth like marionettes pulled by unseen strings. His skill was not just a matter of control; it was a display of sheer puppetry, defying free will. They should've been consigned to the realm of the deceased long ago.
I wasted no time in allowing them to unleash their fury upon me. I materialized amidst their ranks. In a swift motion, I delivered a punishing blow, driving my elbow into Jun's abdomen. The force of impact sent him hurtling through the sprawling expanse of plains, a crimson trail painting the earth as his body succumbed to gravity, coming to a stop with a final squeeze, chest-deep in the unforgiving soil. Turning my attention to Adalard, I unleashed a devastating sidekick, the collision breaking his ribcage completely. His form became a mere blur as he careened through the air, a helpless puppet cast aside by the whims of fate. He collided with a sturdy tree, his body imprinting itself upon the bark before withering to the ground, defeated and vanquished.
Recruitment's countenance contorted in horror, his voice echoing with a tremor of desperation. "Ahhh! Get away!" he bellowed, his façade of control crumbling like ancient parchment in a storm. With a swift conjuration, he materialized a bow into his trembling grasp, fingers taut against the string. An arrow, as black as the abyss and honed to an insane degree of sharpness, coalesced before him, a harbinger of imminent doom. In response, I raised my right hand, palm open and defiant, ready to confront the lethal projectile hurtling toward me. As Recruitment unleashed the full force of his bow, the arrow sliced forth with relentless momentum. I shifted my weight, seizing the shaft of the arrow mid-flight. With a deft twist of my body, I harnessed its kinetic energy, turning it into a weapon of my own.
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I launched the arrow back at Recruitment with all the strength I could muster. It landed, burying itself deep into his shoulder completely breaking his bone. Recruitment staggered, his form wilting under the weight of the arrow, the arrow now a cruel reminder that he shouldn't have fought me. He sank to one knee, clutching the shaft as if seeking solace. I appeared at his side in an instant, my gaze unwavering. "Does it hurt?" I inquired, my voice mercilessly satisfied. Recruitment conjured yet another blade into existence. With a predatory lunge, he aimed the lethal weapon toward my neck.
I halted the blade's deadly trajectory, seizing control of its path with a mere thought. With precision, I redirected its course, guiding it inexorably toward its new target—Recruitment's vulnerable eye. His pleas fell upon deaf ears, my resolve unyielding as I gently nudged his arm, the knife inching closer to its intended destination. "Don't do it! Please, Oren!" he implored, helplessness drowning into every syllable. His cries fell upon the hardened shell of my resolve, my heart unmoved by his pleas. Slowly but steadily, I pressed the blade into his eye, his agonized screams tearing through the air like a dagger to the soul. His arm, crippled by the earlier wound, flailed impotently, a futile attempt to fend off the inevitable. I continued my relentless advance, the tip of the blade piercing the fragile barrier of his eye socket. Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the blood and anguish that painted his features. In that moment, any semblance of triumph was overshadowed by a profound sense of melancholy. I took no pleasure in his suffering, no satisfaction in his demise. With a final, decisive thrust, I drove the knife into his skull with all the force I could muster.
I wiped my arm clean of the blood, each stroke quickly ridding myself of the crimson stain that now marked my skin. I pressed onward, leaving the gruesome scene behind me. The dense foliage of the forest brushed against my skin. I paid them no mind, my focus consumed by the singular desire to escape the specter of my recent transgression. I dare not dwell upon the sin that now stained my soul. I neared the next waypoint, my gaze fell upon the figure that had haunted Aroha's torturous video. My eyes, devoid of emotion, regarded him as nothing more than a monstrous apparition. With each step forward, a sense of resolve welled within me, my right fist clenched tightly at my side. But my attention was drawn away, not to the looming figure before me, but to a distant point on the horizon—a small shack, barely visible in the fading light, a beacon of refuge amidst the chaos. It lay a mile or so away, a distant promise of the final stage.
He discarded the binoculars that had served as a way to spy on me, their usefulness now overshadowed by the urgency of the moment. With a defiant roar, the figure declared its identity, "I'm the Representative of Terrorism!" His face was psychotic, a battle-hungry freak finally finding his long awaited fight. "Finally!" he exclaimed, his voice loud and obnoxious, "Let us engage in battle! I am invincible!"
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Soul: 165 (-55)
Skills:
Lvl. 2 Skill Combination (Speed + Strength Booster) - Stacked the Speed and Strength Booster skills. The cooldown has activated for both of these skills, not for skill combination, however. You have one use left.
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With swift and decisive action, I delivered a sharp clothesline to his head, the force of impact severing it from his body in an instant. A geyser of blood erupted forth like a macabre waterfall. Without sparing a backward glance, I continued forward, "Not anymore."