Chapter 59
Even Trash Has Its Limits
Never had I ever felt like I was truly part of a fantastical world that I was always meant to be, when I realized I was wielding a dazzlingly glowing sword while using mana-infused Skills to help me weave and dart my way down a hill to attack what could easily be considered mindless cannon fodder.
Pfft, pfft, pfft.
Even the aiming of the pine spitters reminded me of the accuracy of some distant stories from my home world.
After having witnessed so many attacks, finding the moment to move out of the way of these enemies was relatively easy. Despite there being quite a few pine spitters mixed amongst the mindless ghosts of the region, these pine spitters still had the same exact tell.
Even in death it seemed that spirits were prone to taking in deep breaths, before exhaling and releasing a strike. The trick was just to wait for that pause, that slight hesitation before the exhale, that’s when you move.
The world blurred around me, but I could still see that I would need to either miss a barrage of attacks or go into battle already wounded. Just the idea of trying to cycle a third healing Skill seemed like a bad idea, especially as this was some type of test that I had to pass. A sort of rite of passage to let the others know that I was both capable of protecting myself and worthy of joining their group.
Anyone with a brain could see that Mr. Yi had taken the pine spitter attack seemingly on purpose. Especially as his glowing eyes no doubt let him see supernatural entities similar to, if not better than my own Spirit Sight Skill.
Also the idea that a Yaoguai Exorcist would have a hard time taking out these monsters was laughable.
Still, I had been given a shiny new stick. Well it was just a stick that I have since made shiny by infusing my own awakened DiVoratore bloodline Skill Soul Devour into.
Slink.
Just getting near the spirits, I charge in half expecting the blade to dissipate or wink out of existence the same way the broken piece of rebar had earlier. Yet, this was different, this time I could almost feel a faint resistance as my blade slid into and through the spirits.
Sploosh.
Like a sharp blade cutting through water balloons, I could feel the slight interaction my blade had while slashing at the first ghost. My arc and swing so powerful that the blade effortlessly shot through the first one and sliced open three other spirits that were tightly packed.
Shambling forward.
At the removal of the first few spirits, it was as if something had come to life in the spirits, as they all seemed to open their eyes as one, a slight green glowing effect to their eyes that I now saw. In that faint green light, I saw what could be considered the sliver of a consciousness form in them.
Pausing for a second, I was shocked to realize that it was the same green, well a dulled down version of the green glowing eyes that the monster from my dream had. The Death Eater.
“Don’t lose your spirit now,” Mr. Karl’s voice cuts out, reminding me to get my act together as I am still being graded.
Hearing him, I quickly dodge to the left, knowing that an attack was definitely incoming.
Pfft, pfft, pfft.
Hearing the sound of the spines shooting past me, to where I had just been a moment ago, I nod to myself, then step to my right, back to the spot I had just retreated from. That’s when I begin carving through the monsters.
This time I don’t save the pine spitters, letting them help me mow down these spirits with their friendly fire. Instead, I work my way to them naturally, working my way inside a cluster of spirits, turn my back and let the lesser spirits charge forward, right into the line of fire.
Pfft, pfft, pfft.
With the recent attack gone, I twist around, effortlessly causing my blade to flow through the air, until it is once again right in front of my eyes. My body and blade bending and extending to seamlessly strike the pine spitter. Only the faintest of resistances let me know that I managed to strike the creature. With the blade out in front of me, I pause to take a glance at its sheen.
Slightly dull.
After all of that, at least three good swings and close to a dozen or so spirits felled, the blade is still bright. I of course, take the time now to infuse it with an extra point of Soul Devour infused mana. Momentarily waiting to see if my bloodline Skill is different than my Trash skill that caused a bit of strain on my body last night.
Slight strain.
There is a slight strain, but it feels closer to your body telling you that you are close to pulling a muscle if you continue moving too much and not the full-on fracturing effect that I felt last night. I had been prepared to stop cycling my two Life infused Skills Life Reinforced Movements* and, Golden Life Ratio Mana Regeneration* but it seemed my concern was unwarranted.
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Just as I suspected, there was a slight difference between the two. While Class Skills came from my core, Bloodline actually seemed to be on a separate network entirely. I was about to go a bit deeper into this train of thought, when I was once again pulled out by the banter of the audience that was here for support.
“That’s it, treat it like you do that boy that attacks your boyfriend!” Mr. Karl shot out.
“Boyfriend!” I shot back annoyed, as I didn’t even know who he was talking about. That pause and hesitation to stare back at Mr. Karl was enough for one of the three remaining pine spitters to get a good enough draw on me.
Pfft, pfft, pfft.
I quickly felt a burst of spirit poison needles enter my body. With their shape inside me, my body instantly begins breaking them down and metabolizing them for their mana. Mana that will then be recycled by body and made into even more energy.
“Good one, you got an echo and four quills,” Markan noted. Once again, I realized that there was some type of game they playing. I assumed it was a form of hazing that had begun with Madame Bloom getting me to echo her three times on the way here. Now apparently Mr. Karl got one with an attack. I assume the attack means extra points.
Shaking my head, I break off. I need to focus.
From there, I make sure to not make any more mistakes. Diving left, feinting right with an exaggerated exhale, causes all of my enemies to instinctively protect to their left, my right. But that is what I wanted, as I keep my exhale going, zag left and strike again.
Slink.
Another spitter down.
With my exaggerated exhale working, I realize that the spitters also look for exhaling as a sign to attack. Realizing this, I begin to work on my forms. Forcing my body to move the exact opposite way that it would normally want to. I exhale while retreating, inhale while attacking, hold my breath while I deliver a deadly strike or replenish the energy to my blade.
I test it all, finding that my Class and my Skills are probably the perfect combination for these types of progressions. In particular, my Life Reinforced Movements* seems to be the perfect counterbalance to throw off the timing of the spitters.
Pfft, p-tt, tfft.
Even their attacks seem erratic as they try to react to my new speed and slow down. Striking where they think I should be, only to find that I slowed my pace on my final slanted approach.
In no time, my mind is focused on this, seeing it more of a dance. A dance where only I can feel the rhythm and keep the tempo going, adding rising actions and falling actions. Violent multi-level swipes help feel a particularly violent staccato rhythm to my strikes. Only to relax a moment later, letting my body naturally replenish itself with deep calming breaths.
Slink, pop.
Then before I even realize it, my glowing blade swipes through the last of the slightly shambling spirits. Spirits that had been moving towards me, but I kept turning about so violently that I ended up forcing them all to swirl together into one death column that I would strike down.
Exhale.
My mind plays the last note of the song of violence that I had been composing within my mind, as the last few droplets of spirit juice disperse into the ether and never appear in our realm again. At least that is what is supposed to happen.
I pause, my blood pumping in my ears. But yet something is off, only after a second do I realize why I am off after this encounter.
The answer is simple, and frightening. After all that effort, I am not tired.
Yes, I am breathing heavily, but with the crisp night air, and judging by apparently how cold I was walking around in the park before I was given my part here, I had been cold. Probably close to freezing, but now all I could feel was warm.
Like a good stretching.
I almost wondered why, only to find that in this moment of down time, I had to fight myself from taking up the horse stance, or one of the stepping stances that I was also expected to take up in between matches.
In fact, I even did just that, taking up a right foot forward stance, with my infused blade held up high ready to be used at a moment’s notice.
Glancing at the blade out of my peripheral vision, I saw that I had managed to keep the blade continually powered as well. Seeing the blade, and going over the movements, I realized that my body just moved on its own, flowing into attacks and patterns that felt natural.
The first to run down the hill and stand next to me by the still wide-open spirit rift was Mr. Yi.
“Very good, even in your rest, you are balanced and ready,” Mr. Yi said, a note of pride in his voice as he took in my stance.
As the others got close, Mr. Yi held up his hand and gestured for the others to stay back. Looking I saw that Markan and Madame Bloom were only a few dozen paces away. While Mr. Karl had carried Madame Voyou down the hill on his back. Only changing his position slightly to stand up and allow Madame Voyou to be hidden by his wide frame, only once they were down the hill.
I found the gesture somewhat sweet, even though it was clear that Madame Voyou had obvious issues going down loosely packed hills on account of her metal leg. The fact that Mr. Karl was both willing to carry her down silently, and also use his own body to provide her some modesty was kind of touching.
“Focus, we have a spirit rift here, but is there anything else that is tethering this tear to this point?” Mr. Yi asked, his eyes glowing golden as he apparently rested enough for his mana to return. That or he had never truly run out of mana to begin with and just feigned tiredness.
I turn to face the rift, and glance at the rift and at the dirt covered ground. I’m about to dismiss it all, but then I notice a faint dark purple glow under a dense portion of trash. Seeing it, I could almost assume it was a shadow, or maybe something shiny hitting the light just right, but that wouldn’t explain the unmistakable shiver that I felt jolt down my spine at its sight.
Seeing the spot, I move closer and with a wave of my hand, I use my Trash Skill removing the top layer of debris. A layer of trash that had apparently been carefully placed to conceal something darker.
Gasps.
What I see can’t exactly be described in words, as it is like looking at moving liquid darkness. Darkness that can seem to cause a physical reaction as I can feel my own chest tightening just by looking at it, and seeing the barely constrained power it contains.
“Very good, now try removing it, as you would the trash that covered it,” Mr. Yi noted. Hearing that, I pause realizing that this is likely a trap of some kind, but I can’t quite figure out why.
“Okay,” I state, and focusing on the slithering and twitching mass of dark mana, I focus my mind and attempt to use Trash.
Nothing.
Well, not nothing exactly. First, it seemed that my Master, Madame Bloom, and the others had all hoped for something as they all exhaled with a note of sadness. Second, my Skill did work, but it seemed to only work on eroding the ground around the slithering darkness, elevating it higher and making it that much more separated from the rest of the ground.
“As I expected,” Mr. Yi nodded while stroking at the faint stubble he was now growing on his chin. After a second or two of thought, he paused, and then waved for me to move closer. “All right, this time hit it with your fully infused sword.”
I was about to shoot back with a, me? But I quickly stopped myself from being part of their sick game. Instead, I just got closer to the pulsing and oddly moving dark mana structure that almost looked like a demonic starfish writhing on the ground.
Moving closer, I go hold up my still glowing sword.
“Wait, make sure your blade is fully infused with as much mana as possible,” Mr. Yi stopped me.
Hearing that I paused, and thought it was full, but realized that if I really pushed, I could get another mote of bloodline modified mana into the blade.
Pausing at that, I looked at the blade and saw that a bit even seeped into the hilt where my hands rested. Seeing that the blade was now fully saturated I raised the sword again to strike.
“Wait!” Mr. Yi again yelled out, stopping my blade while it was still in in the air. Hearing him, I paused and turned, “infuse your hands as well.”
Once again, I almost found myself going into the trap of repeating his instructions back to him, but I held off and instead tried to do as he asked. With a bit of a try, I managed to infuse my hands, while also maintaining a solid grip on the sword. Once I was certain that my hands were now fully saturated after roughly four more points of mana infused into my hands, I paused and was about to strike.
Then just as I was in my stance, the words I had been expecting rang out again, halting me. “Wait!”
This time I just glared at Mr. Yi, turning my face only slightly as I held my form.
“Focus on cutting through the mass, as if it wasn’t there.” Hearing these last few instructions I just nod, and focus.
Or at least I try to focus, going through such esoteric rhetoric was annoying at the best of times. Even more so, when I could see that this dark mana creature seemed to be alive in some way. Which almost explained why my Trash Skill couldn’t remove it, as I have not been able to remove living things with it, yet. Well other than ear mites, but that is different.
Shaking away all external thoughts, I raise my blade, clearing out everything other than swinging with as much precision as possible.
With a slight movement I begin my blades decent, letting my hands and body guide the blade, more than apply extra force. Only once I am past the point of no return, where I cannot pull back the blade do I begin to exert downward pressure infusing the blade with my own force, before the blade strikes and I feel a moment of resistance before the energy quickly dissipates and my blade continues until it finally crashes into something real. Something that feels like a mixture of stones and gunpowder.
BOOM!
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