Lezschill descended upon them with incredible speed and force. Marichi's vision pulsed, red blood dancing in the air as his eyes widened. Jorel, his head bowed, looked utterly emotionless.
Lezschill's hands had plunged into Burtu's flesh, tearing straight into his abdomen. Red blood splashed onto both Lezschill and Jorel, who, still holding Burtu's hand, used his other hand to push him away. Jorel immediately recoiled, putting distance between himself and Lezschill.
Marichi's mind still struggled to process the gruesome act, but there was no time. His body, dagger ready, was poised for action. Jorel rushed to Marichi's side, panting, as Marichi looked at him with an awkward disgust.
"What did you just do?" Marichi asked, his hands trembling but firm around his dagger.
"I did what I had to do, it was either me or him." Jorel replied, his voice chillingly non-chalant as his gaze remained fixed on Lezschill, who was now removing his hands from Burtu's corpse, its eyes still locked on Jorel.
"Finally, that moron has gone back inside." Lezschill's deeper voice mimicked the child-like one, as he licked the blood from his hands with a long, dark-stained tongue.
"Now I can end this with no distractions." He chuckled, planting one foot into the ground, and lunged at Jorel and Marichi.
"You----" Marichi's brows twisted, the edge of his mouth twitching, but his words were cut short by Lezschill, who stood directly before them, his hands already in a swiping position.
VWOOSH----CLANK!
Lezschill's hands were blocked by both Jorel's and Marichi's blades, but the sheer force strained their muscles as they defended. Jorel and Marichi both lowered their bodies, maintaining their defense, then quickly sidestepped and bolted past Lezschill.
Lezschill twisted his entire body, pursuing them, a black liquid drooling from his mouth, his hands probing the air as he ran. He then squeezed the air around his hands, as if compressing something tangible, and slowly forced it downwards as he ran. The air's texture and feel suddenly shifted, becoming viscous, like liquid.
Marichi and Jorel clutched their throats, gasping for air, their running ceasing. Their hair flowed as if submerged in water. Lezschill roared a battle cry, closing in.
W-Water?
Marichi thought, his hands struggling around his throat.
Lezschill swiped his hands at Marichi, who dodged, his movements restricted. He compensated by countering and defending with his dagger, drawing black blood that flowed downwards as if in a liquid medium.
Meanwhile, Jorel sidestepped farther away from Lezschill.
BAM!
Jorel felt a hazy but clear slap against his face that sent him flying. His body ricocheted off the ground only once as he rolled.
Wha?
He thought, his body tumbling.
Quickly regaining his balance and standing, he looked in the direction of the slap, but found no one, only Burtu's corpse in the background. He then felt another hit, digging deep into his side. The force was so hard it made him cough up a huge amount of saliva onto the ground, shifting him sideways.
I can't see it…
But I can feel its hit.
Jorel's mind quickly grasped the reality of his predicament.
It's "Oku."
A bitter taste seemed to fill his mouth, a look of distaste forming on his lips.
Quickly re-centering his body, he planted his feet, spreading his arms wide, but not too far, his sword held in a sideways position with both hands.
Shido-style.
The Heavens' Drowser.
He shouted in his mind, his eyes darting around, anticipating the next attack.
Damn Jorel, remember to steady your mind! I can't forget the Shido-style's teachings right now!
He muttered to himself, slowly prancing around, swiftly changing his blind spots.
He felt a slight breeze approaching his head. He swiftly used his sword and hand to guard his head. But he also felt a faint, subtle breeze, yet he ignored it.
WHAM!
Jorel was struck in his stomach, a gut-wrenching pain that almost made his eyes pop, forcing all air from his lungs.
I just felt a breeze coming straight for my head.
Did I read it wrong?
He clutched his stomach, struggling to breathe, his body swaying in disorientation.
Heh!
This wasn't like before.
But it's certainly an improvement.
A smirk appeared on his face as he wiped the spit from his mouth with the side of his cape.
Meanwhile, Marichi turned and twisted, evading all of Lezschill's hands. This time, they didn't try to grab him but aimed to plant their clawed fingers into his flesh. He blocked some and stabbed others, but it did no visible damage to Lezschill, who appeared utterly absorbed in the fight.
Then, Marichi saw an opening. He rushed in, weaving past the hands, cut Lezschill's cheek, and then receded to a safer distance.
Immediately, the cut healed. Lezschill thrust out his hands, almost brushing Marichi, but then, unexpectedly, other hands emerged from the side and clawed into Marichi's skin.
"Aarck!" He groaned, blood escaping his right hand from finger-sized holes. He fell to the ground but landed on his feet and quickly sidestepped further without wasting time. He clutched his hand, looking at the blood, breathing heavily. Lezschill then faced Marichi's direction and continued his relentless onslaught.
I've cut off his hands.
Stabbed his head.
Marichi recalled when he first saw Lezschill and stabbed his head.
I've also stabbed vital areas.
His dagger had dug deep into Lezschill's abdomen, swimming across it as he ran.
I don't know anything…
Wait… That's it!
Maybe I have to completely sever his head. Nothing can live with its head being cut off. Marichi thought, a feeling of triumph swelling within him as he stared at Lezschill's dull face, his long tongue sticking out.
He quickly maneuvered around the hands, but they brushed against him, leaving bleeding scratches. He then got close to Lezschill's neck, threw his body forward, and stabbed his neck, putting effort as the dagger lodged in and moved.
There!
Marichi gave off a winning, almost statistical smirk.
SMACK!
But Lezschill quickly struck Marichi, sending him flying sideways, leaving his dagger lodged in Lezschill's throat. Marichi tumbled on the ground, then steadied himself by digging his fingers into the earth, trying to reduce his speed.
He stood up, waving his fingers in the air as they stung, and clutched his right arm, forced to one knee. He breathed deeply, staring at the dagger in Lezschill's neck. Lezschill also looked at it but left it there, resuming his run towards Marichi with his signature black smile.
---The end of chapter 33---