With all my expertise and prowess, even I wouldn't last more than a minute against an unending horde of zombies outside the formation. Consequently, I was fully aware of the grim fate that awaited Maya due to her self-sacrificing impulse. The girl, having reached Crixus, froze over his unconscious figure. Grasping her sword firmly, she made it clear through her demeanor that the dead would not reach the Corsican while she stood guard.
Regrettably, her act had the exact opposite effect. The zombies, formerly paying attention to Crixus only when they accidentally stumbled upon him en route to our lines, were now drawn to the presence of a high-level Break Knight. Emerging from the ground, the dead immediately set their course towards the pair.
Once again, the adage about the road to hell being paved with good intentions proved its pertinence. To make matters worse, the Knights of the capital might have reluctantly left Crixus in the square to save the city, considering he was still a stranger... But to abandon Maya fighting alone... No. Many would undoubtedly break ranks and leave our formation.
My gaze swept over the ranks of armored vehicles and the soldiers frozen at their now redundant machine guns. I regretted to admit it, but it seemed today was not their day. Unfortunately, all their equipment, all their weaponry, all their resolve to defend the city – all of it amounted to nothing in the face of this supernatural threat.
"She'll get herself killed and take us all down with her!" Halley leapt up to me, realizing the potential catastrophe Maya's impulse could trigger.
Despite my reservations about him, I had to admit the guy could think strategically. After striking down a couple of encroaching undead, he pointed his blade towards the square:
"We need to save Crixus and get Maya back!" Halley almost yelled, outlining what was already painfully clear. "Otherwise, the guys will rush in to save her and our line will crumble!"
In theory, the three of us – me, Maya, and Halley – should be able to protect Crixus and hack away at the zombies effectively enough to keep them away. However, this would critically weaken the rest of the formation, as we would be losing three high-level Knights at once. Yet, if we do nothing, Halley is right – the line will disintegrate anyway. The raigs would never stand by and watch Maya die, coldly maintaining their position.
"I'll cover her," I decided on the least catastrophic option.
"Good!" Halley beheaded another zombie and turned to the others. "And I'll send those who can carry Crixus."
I had considered a similar plan earlier but deemed it too risky. However, Maya's impulsive action left me with no alternatives. I could only hope that the Knights were more skilled and resilient than I gave them credit for, and they would hold the line while the "rescue operation" was underway.
"Hold the formation!" My voice rings out like steel; I genuinely hope it's enough to cool off the most fervent among us.
After barking the order, I go into Sliding, using the added speed to carve out a path amongst the endless stream of zombies. I only manage to dispatch one, but succeed in severing several limbs. It doesn't stop them, of course. But when these undead reach our lines, it will be easier for the raigs holding the chain to combat an enemy missing an arm or leg.
Maya's back is near. "Word" slices through the legs of three zombies at the knees. They immediately lose balance, tumbling backwards and exposing their throats to "Purity". Within moments, three less creatures to worry about. It doesn't change the big picture, but it does buy us ten seconds of reprieve.
I execute a spinning low jump, arms spread wide, weapons brandished. This move is purely theatrical, something you'd never see in traditional fencing. But, given that I'm in Projection and faced with zombies, this beautiful, impressive, but usually ineffective technique works wonders, decapitating four zombies at once.
Maya gives a thankful nod, her focus unswervingly fixed on her foremost priority of protecting the unconscious Crixus. Another ten, maybe fifteen seconds, and her only options would've been to run or be overrun by the ever-growing horde of undead. However, I suspect she wouldn't have run...
The logical move would've been to stand back to back, covering each other. But I remember how this almost killed the twins, robbing the sisters of their mobility. So, I opt for a different tactic. I leave Maya alone to guard Crixus while I circle them, thinning the encroaching horde. I can't stop them all, of course, but I can alleviate some of the pressure on Maya. I can only hope she remembers her fencing lessons and avoids a fatal mistake.
For my plan to work, I have to fight not just at top speed, but beyond limits I previously thought possible. A fleeting image of Maya getting overrun and buried under a wave of zombies flashes in my mind, providing me with a surge of strength I didn't know I had. But, despite this, I know full well: I can't keep this up indefinitely.
Perhaps Maya herself sensed our impending downfall. It seemed that she started humming a tune, akin to heroes from ancient sagas. However, her song choice struck me as peculiar, or perhaps my hearing was failing me, or was I imagining it?
"The little fox he murmured,
'O what of the world's bane?'
The sun was laughing sweetly,
The moon plucked at my rein;
But the little red fox murmured,
'O do not pluck at his rein...'"[1]
The undead, swarming us like an unending tide, amped up their assault. During Breakthroughs, the Break fuels the raigs' prana far more actively than usual. However, this heightened energy rejuvenation is still insufficient for constant ability usage. Now, to hold my ground, I had to continually exhaust my entire arsenal, leading to overuse of prana. At this rate, I'd have a maximum of five minutes before I'd collapse on the spot - even if the undead wouldn't touch me, I'd succumb to prana exhaustion. Despite the looming threat of such an outcome, I kept battling at full tilt. If I faltered, Maya would be crushed instantly. Like me, she was giving it her all and even more.
"When their hearts are so high
That they would come to blows,
They unhook rheir heavy swords
From golden and silver boughs;
But all that are killed in battle
Awaken to life again.
It is lucky that their story
Is not known among men..."
This melody vaguely echoed in my memory, or was it Izao who once heard it? I couldn't see Maya singing; I didn't have a split second to glance her way. Nevertheless, despite the oddity of it in the current situation, the song instilled strength in me.
Damn Crixus! Why couldn't he have had the sense to relay a warning from a safe distance, instead of directly from the projected Breakthrough site? And Maya too... What was she thinking? Usually rational, she should have realized her actions wouldn't greatly aid the situation. However, perhaps our tardiness during the cruise liner Breakthrough, which resulted in Witold's loss, influenced her impulsive decision.
Regardless of the reasons, the current situation was dire. Our pair had attracted a critical "mass" of the undead. Critical, in the sense that no matter how valiantly we fought, the zombies swarmed us faster than we could exterminate them. Soon, we would be engulfed by the undead horde. Our choices were to flee or perish on the spot in a futile rescue attempt.
If I were protecting Crixus alone, I would have likely retreated, even at the risk of severing another tie with "Purity." But I couldn't abandon Maya. And it wasn't about "Purity" or "Word," I couldn't bear to leave the girl alone - even if it meant saving my own life, I couldn't. And she certainly showed no signs of intending to flee.
"The little fox he murmured,
'O do not pluck at his rein...'"
"Purity" falls into my palm, gripped in reverse. This particular grip is often romanticized in movies, yet it is seldom seen in actual fencing due to the reduced striking distance it offers. However, one fighting style does permit the reverse grip of a secondary sword - the style known as "collision". This is extreme close-quarter combat, where not only blades are utilized, but also legs, elbows, knees, and even teeth.
I can sustain this fight a bit longer by trading my prana for additional damage to the zombies. Allowing them occasional hits on me will enable me to dispatch them more efficiently. Yes, it's more effective, but regrettably, it won't last long...
"Word" punctures the eye socket of a distant undead, and then a swift elbow strike lands under the chin of a nearby zombie. As soon as the creature's body brushes against my clothes, my prana dips slightly. But it affords me an opportunity to deliver a surefire blow to the creature's throat. I've never been fond of the clinch and have always taken advantage of my height and arm length, but that resource is now depleted.
Engaging in extreme close combat against zombies is a fool's game. One misstep and it's all over - there simply won't be time for correction. Yet, I'm left with no choice if I wish to prevent these creatures from feasting on Maya. Even if it means I have to die first to avoid witnessing such a scene.
"But all that are killed in battle
Awaken to life again.
It is lucky that their story
Is not known among men..."
"Purity" hums in my palm, as if singing along to the beat, and a couple more zombies are reduced to dark ash.
Sweep, lunge, Sliding, Force Push. A hit with "Word", a swing from "Purity", my head collides with the temple of the closest creature, creating an opening for the blue steel.
My prana drains away like water down a bottomless pit.
One might assume that in such moments, when you realize you only have a few seconds left to live, you should regret the decision that brought you to this point.
Perhaps...
But I simply didn't have the luxury of thought. An undercut, a quick thrust under a zombie's chin. A Force Push, and the pristine blade traces a luminous line across the dead man's throat. A leap, a twist, a Sliding saves me from the onslaught of three creatures at once. I land, and my two blades strike in different directions simultaneously. A direct kick buys me a momentary reprieve from the creature in front, just enough time for "Word" to land its blow.
Now, I felt like a cornered beast. Like the hare that, refusing to be killed, rolled onto its back and shredded the attacking eagle with its hind legs. Like a mongoose, desperately shielding its burrow against a pack of lions, lunging at beasts dozens of times its own size.
Thoughts? There were none, only movement. Sharp, swift, impetuous movement.
I was so engrossed in the rhythm of this relentless battle that I didn't initially notice the drastic shift. It was only when my "Purity" and then "Word" struck the void that I shook off my daze and took in my surroundings.
No, the Breakthrough was not over. No, the zombies were still clawing their way out of the ground. But something had definitely changed.
Help had arrived.
Just as the relentless wave of the undead was on the verge of overwhelming Maya and me, a pair of third-level raigs, Halley and Rex, launched into the rear of this horde.
I had almost forgotten that Halley promised to bring those who would retrieve Crixus's body. The arrival of these reinforcements dramatically shifted the balance of power in this part of the square. The addition of two more skilled, high-level Knights proved too much for the mob of the dead. Although, the creatures emerging from an even larger zone immediately started heading towards us instead of the formation. But, it would take some time for the critical mass of these monsters to turn into an unstoppable wave. In the meantime, the power advantage in this area temporarily swung to our side.
On seeing our reinforcements, I sighed cowardly with relief. I sighed, realizing that Halley's decision to pull Rex from the raig chain had critically weakened the formation. And it was likely that the ranks of the Knights defending the capital would be breached because of this. Perhaps, but for now, I was only grateful that I wouldn't die here and now.
Moreover, at least two more raigs were expected to accompany Halley and Rex to retrieve the body while we held off the horde. But apart from this pair, there was no one else in the Break. So, why all of this? Just to save Maya and me? This would be a temporary solution at best, as Maya wouldn't leave Crixus behind anyway. We'd all end up staying here... and eventually, all four of us would be overrun.
I was about to order the guys to return to the line before it was too late when I noticed the ones supposed to retrieve the body. An unexpected choice which I hadn't considered. Not in the Break, but in the reality, a pair of soldiers were rushing toward us. Leading the way was a tall, red-haired, freckled brute with sergeant's stripes, followed by a younger but equally sturdy man sporting a medical service badge. They carried military stretchers, currently rolled up, designed specifically for carrying the wounded off the battlefield.
"Volunteers!" Halley called out to me as he pacified the nearest zombie. "I was late because I had to explain everything to them and then cover them on their way here."
As he spoke, a pair of soldiers had already rushed up to Crixus. They swiftly spread out a stretcher, skillfully lifting the unconscious raig onto the fabric. Their movements were so precise, it was clear they had practiced this sort of thing until it became second nature.
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To an outsider, their actions might have seemed mundane: just a couple of guys rushing across an empty square to an unconscious body and bringing it to medics. But that was from the perspective of reality, where the square was still devoid of life. In the Break, however, it was teeming with creatures emerging from the ground.
I could tell that these two volunteer rescuers knew full well that charging into the epicenter of a Breakthrough was not exactly safe. They were aware, but they went anyway. I could see the vein pulsating wildly in the sergeant's temple and the cold sweat trickling down the medic's neck. They were scared, terrified to the point of cramping. Yet, they still pressed on, doing their job.
"Word" had drawn a blue border, and two dead men, reaching out for the people lifting the stretcher, dissipated into clouds of ash. No, I wouldn't let them get to these men. I'd lay myself down first!
Force Push, thrust, Sliding. Three more Projections danced alongside me, defending from all sides.
Apparently, understanding or simply intuiting that lingering in the square was a bad idea, the soldiers adjusted their grip on the stretcher and took off like sprinters. Their speed was welcome. We, the raigs, weren't concerned about their pace - we were faster in the Break, but the zombies... The soldiers' sudden acceleration caused the undead to spread out, no longer a dense crowd, making our task of destroying them easier.
The entire rescue operation took less than a minute from the soldiers' perspective. They didn't even suspect that they came close to being reached by one of the creatures a couple of times. But, the four of us handled it, and they managed to make it back to safety without any incidents, unloading Crixus into the nearest ambulance.
To my surprise, we returned to the line before the zombies could break through the thin chain of raigs. But I shouldn't have been surprised - it all made sense. Yes, four out of five level-three raigs had left the defense, but our group had drawn the attention of a large number of zombies. Accordingly, the pressure on the line had proportionally decreased.
I glanced at Maya. Unlike me, she had weathered this better: her prana reserves, though depleted by two-thirds, still sat within the safe zone. I, on the other hand, had lost four-fifths of my energy in this sortie.
However, there was a silver lining. My Spark was sucking prana from the Break like a vacuum cleaner. It seemed that during the Breakthrough, its ability to extract energy from the Break had increased manifold. Half an hour of rest and my energy reserves would be fully replenished. But who would grant me this half-hour respite? No one. And it wasn't just because of the Breakthrough.
This time, it wasn't Maya but Halley who had acted recklessly. As we were extracting Crixus, he spotted people trapped in a car in the square. Perhaps Halley would have accepted that not everyone could be saved and that maintaining the formation was more important, if not for certain details. Firstly, the car held a mother with two very young children. Secondly, due to the asphalt cracks, the car had skewed, its windows shattered. Thirdly, creatures emerging from the ground had already targeted this vehicle.
As soon as we stabilized our formation and cleared the wave of zombies we'd accumulated during the rescue operation, Halley immediately rushed to the military. Perhaps it was because the first pair of rescuers returned unscathed that volunteers for the second sortie among the soldiers were quickly found.
As for Maya, Rex, and Halley, I didn't even attempt to dissuade them from interfering. I knew it would be futile. Plus, seeing the limp children in the back seat of the damaged car, I knew that I wouldn't be able to refuse this mission, not due to "Purity," but my personal convictions.
The saying that a person can get used to anything given enough time seems fitting. Apparently, we had become accustomed to these endless zombies. Yes, they were innumerable. Yes, they were tough to kill. Yes, they were faster than depicted in movies. But that's where their advantages ended. They were clumsy, stupid, and predictable. Their only strength lay in their relentless onslaught.
With each passing minute, with each zombie we felled, the Break Knights, even the greenest among us, gained confidence and, more importantly, an understanding of how best to tackle such foes.
We couldn't eradicate all the creatures - the Breakthrough was spawning them non-stop. That much was true. But we had learned to stem this tide. When necessary, our weak chain would yield, sometimes it stood firm like a rock, and occasionally, albeit rarely, it even retaliated with sharp counterattacks.
The second rescue operation proceeded without a hitch. Maya and I, like icebreakers, carved a path through the horde of zombies. Behind us, three pairs of soldiers carrying stretchers followed as quickly as they could, with Halley and Rex providing cover. Unlike the rescue of Crixus, we moved swiftly, preventing the zombies from amassing into a force large enough to overwhelm us.
Under our unseen protection, the soldiers opened the car doors, loaded the unconscious mother and her children onto the stretchers, and hurried back. They operated with military precision: quick and accurate. To my surprise, one of the shapeshifter officers, a captain of the motorized infantry, participated in the sortie. If not for his aura, I would have mistaken him for an average young man in his mid-twenties. Also... What didn't escape my attention was his palpable fear, equal to those he commanded. Yet, despite his terror, he didn't hide behind his soldiers; instead, he led the rescue group himself.
Once the military team crossed the line of raigs, we pivoted and assisted the rest in dealing with the horde we had attracted. As I already guessed, they wouldn't let me dispatch the mindless undead in peace. And so it turned out - because at least a dozen civilians trapped in the Breakthrough remained in the square. Even though there were no children among them, they were still people.
The rescue of the children was closely followed by another sortie, then another, and another...
Only when we extracted the last individual left in the square, an aging, gray-haired man, did we blunder slightly, and a zombie managed to reach one of the volunteer soldiers. Fortunately, the consequences were not severe; the soldier simply passed out, and his vitality decreased slightly. He was promptly scooped up by a comrade running beside him and slung across his shoulders. Thus, all our sorties could be considered successful.
While all this was happening, the rest of the Knights were also executing their duty, preventing any casualties within their ranks.
However...
A Breakthrough...
Is still...
A Breakthrough...
Sliding along the line, I swiftly cut down anything that crosses my path. Even if my blows aren't lethal, they weaken the undead, making it easier for the raigs in the line to fight them off.
I halt in front of a dense cluster of six undead. The white-blue cross formed by my blades hangs in the gray air of the Break for a moment, and instantly, three undead turn to ashes. I close the distance, unleash a Force Push, strike again, and soon, the once dense group of zombies is no more.
It's becoming routine...
No sooner had this thought crossed my mind than the foggy spot above the triumphal arch brightened, flared with an ethereal light, and all the zombies in the square, even those far from our line or just emerging from beneath the asphalt, crumbled into ashes. Ashes that were immediately sucked into the strange fog.
Is it finally over? Have we managed to hold out long enough for the Breakthrough to exhaust itself? Standing next to me, Shiko, judging by his posture, shares the same thoughts.
Alas.
The Breakthrough hadn't exhausted itself.
And it didn't end.
As the last wisp of ash vanished into the fog, it immediately constricted, condensed. It rippled ominously, a sight that, even in Projection state, sent chills running down your spine. Then, a vibrating sound resonated through the area, felt right down to the marrow.
My hands instinctively tightened their grip on my sword hilts. And for good reason.
The fog blanketing the triumphal arch darkened, taking on the same hue as the defeated zombies. The final seconds of unnatural ripples revealed an incomprehensible creature hovering above the square. It looked like a gigantic amoeba, three meters in diameter, seemingly composed entirely of the ashes of the dead, with many long pseudopods. At the very heart of this bewildering creature, something faintly glowed.
Sometimes, while in the Break, knowledge just comes to you, the source of which you can't fathom. Hence, merely by seeing this monstrosity, I knew for certain: one touch of its pseudopod to a Projection, and all prana would be lost; a second touch would mean death. The creature could also "spit" ashes, an attack that was even more lethal, resulting in instant death. To defeat the "amoeba," the "magic" crystal at its core had to be destroyed.
A single look at the creature materialized on the square was enough to unsettle anyone. There was something unnatural about it, contrary to all forms of life. The most perplexing aspect for me was why someone would conceive such a monster and not only that, but how their creation gained enough popularity to form such a vivid image in the fantasy layer. Why are so many people fascinated by such grotesque things? I will never comprehend this; I was never a fan of horror movies in my previous life and even less so in this one.
Without any orders, spontaneously, the Break Knights surrounded the amoeba, forming a chain just as sparse as the one used to fend off the zombie invasion.
"And there's the level boss," Rex, standing beside me, quipped with a forced chuckle.
"Yep. Looks like it's from the game Dark City, the third part, Invasion," Theodore agreed. I only vaguely knew this raig; all I could recall was his fondness for video games, but he hadn't particularly stood out during training. "Drasil, that's the name of this boss. Watch out for its spit attacks! I can't tell you how many times I've died from those... well, not me exactly, but my character."
Our further conversation and any additional discussions were abruptly cut short by the fierce attack of the new entity. Hovering three meters above the ground, it suddenly "fired" more than a dozen protrusions simultaneously in various directions, aiming to hit multiple raigs.
In Sliding, I swiftly dodged the stream of ash aimed at my chest and struck at this pseudopod with "Word." As soon as the blue steel made contact with the creature's appendage, the limb instantly disintegrated into ash, which was immediately reabsorbed into the "amoeba." As if instinctively identifying the most dangerous adversary, Drasil directed its attack at me again, this time with three ash cords simultaneously.
Such attacks might pose a challenge for others, but after my battle with Annabelle, I could easily predict the writhing movements of the pseudopods and their changes in direction during the attack. The fight with the witch and the way she controlled her dark whips had been far more challenging. This otherworldly creature's ability to attack was significantly inferior to that of Eshin's last witch. Moreover, despite being substantially weakened, the Fan of Probabilities was still functioning, making it even easier for me to evade the giant amoeba's lunges.
The whips struck where I had recently been standing. Cross strike, the white and the blue lines touched the pseudopods, causing them to disintegrate.
Effortlessly, akin to dancing in place, I dodged more and more new attacks. I looked around. It seemed that the initial attacks hadn't injured anyone. And generally, the raigs seemed capable of easily deflecting the "amoeba's" limbs. However, upon closer inspection, I realized that my conclusions about this "ease" were not entirely accurate. The second-level knights and above, those who had mastered Sliding, were indeed easily evading the ashen tentacles that the new creature was producing infinitely, just like the ground had recently been producing zombies. But for those raigs who hadn't yet acquired such a useful skill, it was not easy.
I attempted to finish off the creature immediately. Initially, I simply launched "Word" in a "Sword Throw" towards the crystal "heart." Unfortunately, it didn't work: the ash prominences easily intercepted the sword. Following this failure, I decided to try a forceful breakthrough: in a high jump, I switched to Sliding and, spinning a moulinet with two blades, tried to reach the crystal in the center of the "amoeba" at the maximum acceleration available to me. The attempt was unsuccessful - Drasil instantly spawned so many ash cords in the direction of my attack that I couldn't get through them. It's a shame - I wanted to end this Breakthrough as soon as possible, but apparently, this wasn't meant to be.
Despite my unsuccessful assault, I noticed that repelling my attack had slightly weakened the creature's onslaught on the other raigs. This was a weakness that needed to be exploited.
No sooner had this realization crossed my mind, a ball of darkness shot out from the center of the amoeba. It moved so fast that it easily surpassed the speed of the creature's lunging tentacles. I barely managed to dodge this new type of attack, which wasn't easy, given that the ball was approximately one and a half meters in diameter.
Quite the sizeable "spit" indeed!
It was fortunate that the creature had aimed at me. This unexpected attack could've been disastrous for someone less experienced, and a raig without Sliding might not have had the time to avoid this "spit."
Apparently, this creature won't be dealt with so easily. To destroy it, we needed a meticulously planned attack from various angles, executed by high-ranking Knights skilled enough not to interfere with each other. But before launching our assault, we needed to reposition our raigs, moving the lower-ranking ones to the second line.
In training, we had practiced such maneuvers, but training and real battle are two very different things. Some didn't hear the commands, others misunderstood them, and a few were too engrossed in the fight. For a moment, our ranks were thrown into disarray, which the creature immediately capitalized on, intensifying its attacks. As we fended off the tentacle strikes, three "spits" fired simultaneously in different directions caught us off guard.
The first spit grazed dangerously close to Rex's head.
The second spit, however, struck Shiko, who was in the process of pulling a couple of first-level raigs back. He hadn't seen it coming and didn't have time to react. The dark ball merely brushed his shoulder in passing, but even that was enough to shatter his Projection, propelling him out of the Break and back into reality. He reappeared already dead, his aura-less body falling lifelessly to the ground.
I barely caught sight of the third spit. All I noticed was that it seemed to miss everyone. Or rather, Baenre had expertly yanked his protégé out of its path.
Creatures, monsters, zombies, the dead, amoebas...
All this somehow faded, overshadowed by the death of one of our own. He was killed right before our eyes.
"Raig!" Rex's shout nearly deafened me.
"Raig!" echoed a chorus of voices.
Instead of a calculated assault, all the Knights erupted into a frenzied attack. I don't know if this alien amoeba was capable of thought or strategy, but our unexpected aggression seemed to take it by surprise.
I'm left with no choice but to join the general onslaught. My orders would simply fall on deaf ears amidst the chaos. Even the usually level-headed twins, it seems, are consumed by a bloodlust.
Initially, the creature attempted to meet us with a counteroffensive but rapidly lost almost half of its pseudopods. After this, Drasil shifted to a purely defensive stance.
I can't pinpoint exactly why, but despite the reckless spontaneity of our attack, we managed to work in synchrony. We didn't neglect to cover each other or even execute coordinated attacks. Perhaps the hours I spent in recent training sessions focusing not on individual combat but on teamwork weren't wasted.
Additionally, the fury ignited by our loss seemed to invigorate the Knights. For the first time since this Breakthrough began, we were destroying its spawn at a faster rate than it could regenerate. Indeed, the number of amoeba limbs was steadily decreasing.
"It's about to spit!" Theodore warned us, having recognized some telltale signs from the game.
Our ranks instinctively recoiled. The timing was fortuitous. This time, the creature launched four dark projectiles simultaneously. I spotted three of them, and none hit their mark. After evading this volley, we resumed our attack.
As much as I loathe "Purity," the snow-white blade was indispensable against the creatures of Darkness. While a strike from "Word" merely annihilated the amoeba's cord, causing the monster to retract the ashes from which it was made, the touch of white steel completely dispersed the limb.
The amoeba didn't get the chance to spit again. Two blades, mine on one side and Maya's on the other, simultaneously pierced its crystal 'heart.'
In that moment, the Break shuddered.
Warped.
Purified.
The Breakthrough is repelled. But there is little joy in it. Two lifeless bodies lie sprawled on the shattered pavement.
Two?
A silver pillar materializes beside me, and the Break offers me a reward.
I dismiss it.
Two bodies?!
Shiko and...
The second casualty is familiar to me... He was unaware that I knew his true identity, but I instantly recognized his lifeless face.
"He pulled me out of the spit's trajectory... but wasn't quick enough..." Sigurd, standing beside me, whispers.
I barely register his words.
I can only stare at the face of the deceased. At the dead face of my disciple.
The one who died obeying my command.
My command...
[1] TLN: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k9Prrhia_SQ - this is the song, which is a loose translation of The Happy Townland by W. B. Yeats (https://kalliope.org/en/text/yeats2002021490). I've included the corresponding sections of the original.