SL Chapter 22 Life at Stake
The pain was unbearable. Had he ever gone through this much pain? Yes... The scar. He could vividly remember how he had gotten it. And the pain had been worse than this. Yet, he had spent over 20 years without getting this injured. Now that he had, it was a debilitating pain.
'Stand up! Eric! People are depending on you!' He inwardly psyched himself up. Because of the intensity of the situation, coupled with the fact that Jeffrey was blocking the entrance, he hadn't managed to gauge the situation outside. Had his comrades survived? What about Eve? If she was even still alive.
With those thoughts driving him, he stood up. Eric had gleaned a lot of information in that one exchange. Their martial arts were not that different in potency. The chasm came from the fact that his body was frail, while the other's body was buff and in top condition. The difference was night and day. Even now, he was favoring his left foot. Through his spiritual energy, he could feel every shattered bone in the foot. And it was taking his whole being just to hold back the grimace threatening to plaster itself across his face, not to mention the fact that right now, he felt like howling in pain.
Physically, he was temporarily out of the fight, which prompted him into summoning his power. Maybe if he had had a weapon, something he could infuse spiritual energy within... Then the gap would have been minimized. But this wasn't the time for regrets, or 'what should have been.'
From his head, a warmth appeared, moved down his neck, to his right hand, then exited through and appeared just before him. It was a cluster of humanoid flames, the ones he had seen in his mind.
'What should I do? Talk to them? Issue a mental order?' He wondered even as the flames instantly turned into an orange blur, heading towards Jeffrey. He could sense the rage within. The connection was something he was puzzled by. He understood it, yet also lacked a complete understanding of how it worked. Then there was also the issue of awareness. Did his mother's soul lose a great many things, only leaving behind the purest of emotions? Or was there something else at play? This was one of those mysteries.
Jeffrey had great instincts, having turned around the moment the humanoid flames had set off, with his eyes wide. He dodged to the side by instinct, yet the flames turned around, causing him to execute a complicated dodging posture, one which contorted his spine in ways Eric wondered how he was even still alive. There were plenty of mysteries surrounding the man.
The humanoid flame continuously chased the man around the room, with him dodging the attacks somewhat easily, since the humanoid flames were predictable. Though, Eric was somewhat gratified by the fact that so far, nothing had been set aflame. Just thinking of his phrase almost caused him to grind his teeth audibly. It was the last thing he wanted to have, yet it had automatically been chosen for him by the scar. How? He only had a theory, one which he deemed both implausible and plausible at the same time.
After some time, Eric sensed a shift in the air. A dangerous intent was being directed his way! That's when he saw Jeffrey dodge another attack before racing towards him. It seems that he had found a way to take care of the flames, and that was to murder the owner of the anchor.
'Could the Spirit Oath really have taken up his ability?' wondered Eric as he prepared himself for the confrontation he was certain to come. So far, no one had appeared. Could it be that everyone had been incapacitated? Or were they hanging back, scared to put themselves in danger? Wondered Eric.
Jeffrey leaped, bending his right knee and crashing towards him. Eric didn't even try to block. Instead, he took a step forward, gritting his teeth through the pain, and within the fraction of a second, moved to the side and pushed out with a palm, parrying the knee attack to the side, yet he didn't even get the chance to rejoice before he felt his ribs fracture and for the pain to shoot into his mind. His consciousness slipped for a second, only for him to regain himself when his body was sailing through the air. For a moment, he failed to comprehend had what just happened.
When his back hit something solid, probably a wall, he felt the breath leave his lungs, with the shrapnel from his cracked ribs digging into multiple organs, which sent a pain searing into his mind. Cracks ran from his point of impact exposing a faint outline of a rectangular seam in the wall, though for only an instant before it once again obscured itself, while the cracks started mending.
His spiritual energy was used to barely hold his body together while, it also actively served to start pushing the shrapnel from his organs, yet he wasn't even allowed to catch his breath, with his body instinctively reacting, dodging the threat that would have killed him. All he felt was the vibrations of impact, even stronger than his collision with the wall, though, the sound was more muffled.
When he felt his consciousness almost sinking into oblivion, with even the heightened adrenaline failing to hold onto its last embers, something warm made impact with his body, wrestling control of his spiritual energy away from him. The pieces of shrapnel was wrenched out with such force that they even left holes in his skin, while his organs started knitting the void left by the shrapnel. He didn't know how long it lasted,but he was certain that all that was completed in a fraction of a second, with his body back in pristine condition within mere moment, yet he could also feel a void of energy, which was causing hunger. But now wasn't the time for that.
When his mind finally registered what his vision was relaying to him, he was somewhat taken aback to find that a flame was wreathing his entire body. A flame that seemed motherly, yet he could also feel the destructive energy within it. Even it's will. It longed to spread, to burn everything down. There was also a feeling there, one of rage. He was even certain that that rage had been the result of his injuries. And that, brought a heavy feeling within his chest. It seems that his mother's will was still within the humanoid flames.
Jeffrey, caught up in his high, attacked. He lunged forward, his facial expression not a mask of stoicism, but vividly portraying a certain amount of hate, as if the man hated Eric's very existence. That emotion must have taken over his rational thinking, because there was no way he would have lunged towards Eric, who was now wreathed in the very flames he had been trying to avoid.
'Flame spreads like a plague.' He thought of the phrase with mixed feelings inside. His mouth opened and a breath of flame left his lips, with him watching the vivid transition of his opponent's face from rage to horror as the flames engulfed him. This had been an idea he hadn't known whether it would work, but he had tried in nontheless. Air could also act as a medium through which flames could spread. He had now confirmed that.
Jeffrey stopped in place while he howled in agony, with his steps backtracking. Then, as if he had decided to attack, he lunged forward with his palm outstretched, as if he wanted to grab Eric and take him down with him. Eric moved to the side, and before the man could completely pass by him, he kicked out, propelling his foot with the flames themselves, infusing it with all the emotion he could, from his rage at being injured by the man, to the fact that his mother had died. Yes, he hadn't gotten over that fact through the digestion of those memories.
When the foot connected, there was some resistance that ultimately gave way, and he felt bones breaking, before Jeffrey was flung away, colliding with another wall, though, this time, the cracks that formed and mended themselves had been small, owing to the lesser power of Eric's kick, even when imbued with flame.
As Jeffrey struggled to get up, even when he was howling in agony, his hate filled gaze directed his way, Eric wondered about the drive that was keeping the man going. Did he also have family somewhere, waiting for him? Hesitation momentarily took hold of him before a blur appeared right beside the man, with the Heavenly sound of a drawn blade entering his ears before the man's body separated into two halves that fell onto the ground, with the flames extinguishing themselves after. Then his consciousness sunk into oblivion, with every aota of power within him exhausted, not to mention the fact that his will and the humanoid flame's powerful emotions had been the things keeping him on his feet.
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Allan gazed at the fallen comrade in silence. There had been no particular attachment to the woman, as they hadn't even gotten a chance to spend a long time with her, yet he felt pity for her death. She had been stupid, slow witted, and most of all, weak in the mind. Yet, gazing at the mostly intact half of her corpse that was barely in one piece, he couldn't bring himself to blame her. He blamed himself. Not for her death, but his own lack of reaction. He had been slow. He should have moved the moment he had realized that the bastard had been the traitor all along, yet arrogance had taken over. What if it had been him the bastard had targeted? Would he have survived? That was a question that was swimming within his mind, lacking a concrete answer.