I can feel the heat that my Skill produces prick on my skin. My armor--as minimum as it is--is heating up, making the clothes underneath let out steam. The pain it causes is minor--to me, someone who has an absurd pain tolerance. I don't even register it as I am too focused on marveling at the beauty of the glaring Magical atomic bomb before me.
The sub-dimension is in Mark's hand--Teanosvera has told me that. The fact that it hasn't crumbled yet means he is still alive. I have mixed feelings about it. I am glad that he didn't die so quick but, on the other hand, I am irked that my skill is not destructive enough to kill him.
The relief that he hasn't died yet, still, outweighs my irritation. As the light dies down, I am thinking about what I will do to Mark to satisfy my morbid sense of satisfaction.
When the light stops obscuring the vision, I can see Mark once again. Half of his armor has melted and half of his body is scorched brightly in red. He is falling like a dead body thrown out of a plane but he still holds his lance tightly. I follow him as he is falling but do nothing to him until he reaches the ground.
Crack!
His body creates a small crater on the ground upon impact, proving that his physique is well-trained.
As I stand beside his body, I notice that the surroundings are quiet. I put my foot on his head just in case and then look around to see what is happening. I find everyone's eyes on me. Many stare at me in disbelief but I don't know what they find hard to believe.
A quick count allows me to know how many pests are left--17 people. 8 Bounty Hunters, 7 Paladins, and 2 Heroes. More than three fourth of the initial number has been reduced, which is not that surprising. The girls, Genelos, and Teanosvera played them well.
"Koff! Koff! Heugh.... What the fuck...happened?"
My eyes find their way back to Mark as he regains consciousness. He looks up at me in confusion at first before widening his eyes in shock. Instead of swinging his lance, he grasps my foot and tries to pry it off. I scoff at the attempt and put more pressure on his skull, causing him to groan in pain.
"You are not bad...compared to your fellow Heroes, that is."
"Let...go...of me, Layland!" Mark snarls.
"What are you going to do if I don't? Scream louder?" I chuckle throatily and then stab Rexorem in his stomach, causing him to shriek in pain. "That is not pain, Mark. This is pain."
Expressing my desire for blood, I let Rexorem absorb Mark's blood. I have learned from my last mistake, though, so I make sure Rexorem does it very slowly.
"Aaaaaaack! What are you doing!? Get this thing off me!"
Snorting lightly, I take my foot off his head and bend down to take away his lance. My hand is just three inches away from it when lightning powered by Divinity strikes it.
Crack!
I was genuinely caught off guard; I didn't coat my hand with anything, so two of my fingers are severed by the lightning. It is not a bother to me but the lightning gives an everlasting pain--it is burning. I, of course, ignore it, pick my fingers up, and reattach them back. In a few seconds, my hand looks as flawless as before.
Since it is already clear that I can't take the Holy Lance with me, I decided to forego it. I thought it would be amusing to kill Heroes with a Holy Weapon; alas, not everything goes my way. I take out my daggers and turn to the other two Heroes--Asher and Brandon.
"You don't have to look at me like that. Being the top dog within a community doesn't make you invincible."
The two are looking at me with dread and terror. I recognize that look well--it is the same look that they gave me on that fateful day.
They swallow their saliva and assume their stance. Brandon holds his axe menacingly meanwhile Asher holds his staff sideways as he murmurs a Spell.
They are on high alert. The fear they are oozing is too thick for me to turn a blind eye to. They are trying their best to calm themselves down but I can hear their hearts pounding. They no longer believe that they will ever win, so they are hoping for a miracle to happen.
Boom!
As I kick the ground and charge at them like a bullet, Asher frantically unleashes his Spell. A hut-sized ball of light is sent at me, obliterating anything in its path.
It collides with me in less than a second and I cut it in half without a hitch. Asher steps back in fear; overcoming his incredulity, Brandon jumps at me with his oversized axe.
Boom!
The ground below me cracks as I block Brandon's axe with my daggers. He holds his ground well for a few seconds but immediately loses it the moment his feet touch the ground--as weird as it sounds--because I throw him away as I swing my daggers in two different directions.
Turning on my heel, I dash at Asher who has barely recovered from his shell-shocked state. He jumps in fright and then mumbles something quickly before teleporting.
I sense his presence the second he appears and I am fast enough to immediately appear before him. He seems to have predicted it, though, so he can immediately teleport as soon as I appear before him.
The chase and teleport continue for a few seconds until it is interrupted by Brandon who thinks he can land a hit on me. I swivel in a flash, use [Death Blow] on my daggers, and hit him right in his solar plexus.
Boom!
"Keuh!"
The hit dents his armor, shatters his bones, and crushes his viscera. As he is launched to the sky, I return my attention to Asher and find him on Mark's side. He is talking frantically with Mark, probably asking for control over the subdimension. Alas, he doesn't get any response from the preoccupied Mark.
I dash at him and he doesn't register my presence because of his frustration with Mark's lack of response. He turns his head to me when my foot is already an inch away from hitting his head and, at this point, he can do nothing about it.
Bam!
"Ack!"
As he flies away, a trail of blood decorates the air for a few seconds before falling to the ground. His physique is not trained--just like any Mages--so when I take a look at the damage I have done to him, I find half of his face caved in and one of his eyes popped out.
"What is wrong with you, man!? What is wrong with you!? I ain't done nothing wrong to you--why do you have to fuck me up like this?"
"Woah...are you scared, dude?"
"I am terrified, motherfucker. This is too much already. I have died once. I don't want to experience it twice. Please, man...please, spare me!"
A man in dire need blabbers anything that he thinks will help him in acquiring the thing that he needs. Asher is trying his best to make himself look like a victim.
He glossed over the fact that he ever kneed my head and pretended it was an accident, banged my head into the sink, extorted a week's worth of my lunch money, and locked me in the locker room. He acts like a truly wronged person who doesn't deserve my wrath and petty vengeance.
"You know, Asher, I think I don't really hate you," I say, elevating his mood. "I feel bad for hitting you this bad, man...but you have to understand that I am still mad."
"I will do whatever you as long as you spare me!"
"Fine...let's play a little game, shall we?"
Looking at the expectant look plastered on the half-deformed face of Asher, I smile faintly to hide my twisted glee. I conjure water with Magic, make a sphere with it, and then let it wrap around Asher's face.
The only eye he has inside his eye socket widens at the same time his body squirms. I take out an ordinary iron stake from my Spatial Storage and jab it into his solar plexus to keep his body in place.
Ignoring him, I stand up and find Brandon standing behind me with shaky feet. He looks at me appalled at the stunt I just pulled. I smile lightly and then appear before him in an instant. He jumps back in shock and falls on his butt.
"Keuh...." He clutches his stomach in pain; his ruptured viscera are still killing him. "Layland, I am sorry. It was all Mark. He threatened to kick us out of school if we befriended--"
Bam!
My kick blasts his head into pieces. Brandon was among the passive aggressors, so he is fortunate enough to be allowed to die less miserably.
Looking around, I find two pests left--one Paladin and one Bounty Hunter. The girls have learned my habit, so they are questioning the two about how they are here and what they know about me.
Turning my eyes away from them, I walk toward Mark; from the corner of my eyes, I find Asher already motionless. When I arrive at Mark's side, he glares at me hatefully. He is the only one who doesn't feel afraid even after suffering from his adversary's cruelty.
"At least, you are not a pussy."
I smirk and reach out to him. Just as I am about to clutch his head, I hear a familiar voice.
"Layland, stop!"
My eyebrow quirked; my vision gets darker. As I turn around, Brianna Johnson stares at me with a haunted look.
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