The headless corpse walked one final step forwards before his knees buckled, inevitably falling to the ground. A heavy thud followed as the torso struck the earth, with blood pouring out if its fresh stump.
Its missing head rolled on the ground before finally settling, staring right at Epsilon in the eyes. Its complexation, frozen and perfectly preserved. Its eyes wide open, and the once sadistic grin it carried, reduced to just a slight frown.
'Not even a second.'
Galahad died in under a second of re-joining the fight. But Although the original had perished, the clone still remained. However, he seemed exhausted. Despite not having been around for too long, he was panting like a dog while gripping onto his chest.
"Not.. yet.."
In the end, he collapsed to one knee.
Sylas was just about to go finish him off for good, but there was still someone annoying getting in his way.
Gracia sprung into motion—darting and spinning with uncanny grace, dancing as though guided by an unseen master.
Sylas raised his guard, with steel ringing as he deflected the first sweeping slash. Each strike came faster than the last, as the floating sword weaved arcs in the air, turning, thrusting, and recoiling as if it were alive. Sparks flew where steel meets steel, the air filled with the sharp music of clashing blades.
He shifted his footing, sweat dripping from his forehead, his every move a measured duel not against flesh but against precision itself. His enemy did not tire, did not breathe, continuing to whirl in a deadly rhythm without rest, feinting with impossible agility. He pressed forward in a silent cry, slashing in wide arcs, testing if momentum and will could overcome this spectral opponent that dances in the air.
But in the end, nothing worked.
When it came to Swordsmanship, three things mattered the most. The strength of a swing, its speed, and finally precision. Everything else was built upon these three things, and all of these depended on the body wielding it, as well as its experience and talent. But for Smile Of Heaven who had no body, how did this impact her swordsmanship?
The answer was simple. She had no body, therefore, there was no limit to what she could do. If she wanted, she could mimic her blades movements as if she was holding a sword like normal, but that was far too inefficient for her current self.
Movements that were impossible for people with a body, were possible for her who had abandoned hers. And people who were far too used to fighting against normal humans, were stunted when trying to read her own, unpredictable swordsmanship.
Her sword swung, changing angels in impossible places with a speed that was impossible for a normal body. One minute her blade was coming unto him from above, and the next it had already zipped behind him.
Sylas turned his head trying to keep track of it, but it quickly changed trajectory and cut him across his hip. But the blade didn't stop, it turned back around and started to spin, threating to cut him in two.
He tried to duck right under it at the last minute, but the swords trajectory sharply changed once again, and turned into a thrust that sliced through his shoulder.
As this took place, Epsilon watched dutifully, eyeing a moment where he could jump in and then give Sylas a fist full of Soul Essence. To do that, he had to properly analyse how he fought, looking for even a small opening.
Doing so, he noticed two things. Smile Of Heaven was not targeting Sylas lethally, but the same was true for Sylas himself. Back at the academy, in just a few hits he could break a sword with the help of his Dormant ability by targeting the most worn out parts of a blade. By hitting it several times with powerful strikes, it would quickly snap.
But as he watched the battle, it was obvious that he wasn't doing that at all.
'Is he fighting against the control somehow?'
And still, there was something even stranger going on.
'This guy fucking lied.'
His Aspect was not keen insight at all. Watching him fight, it was blatantly obvious that it was some sort of high speed movement. Or maybe it was the Nightmare creatures control altering him somehow? Who could say at this point.
'But right now, he isn't moving like that again. Is it limited? Or is it putting a strain on his body? How often can he use it? Nero would've figure it out by now...'
So many questions. He couldn't figure it out until someone else died.
Before he could finish, the clone of Galahad who was kneeling on the floor suddenly got back up. His face seemed much clearer and calmer, still grinning, but it was much weaker.
"30 seconds. It's already been 20, so only 10 seconds until someone dies again, right?"
'He was watching him too?'
Rather than feeling shocked at his counter parts death, it still persisted, following in his footsteps as he rushed head first into danger.
"You killed me once, so what? I'm still here! As long as one of us breathes, the fun won't ever end!"
Completely ignoring Smile Of Heaven, Sylas dashed straight towards Galahad to make good on his promise to finish him off. He was wide open and his guard was completely loose, he was sure he could kill him with a simple strike.
But right when he made his move, a puff of white smoke exploded in front of him, and jumping out was another clone. His blade easily penetrated its armour and went straight through its chest. But when he tried to pull it out, the clone extended out its hands and grabbed Sylas by his sword wielding arm.
The first Galahad quickly moved to the side, as he smashed his black staff against Sylas's waist. But right away he could tell, it was only half as powerful as before. He was about to break free from the clones grip, but then he suddenly felt something pierce his leg. Turning his head, he saw Gracias sword sticking in it.
'Damn you..!'
And then the first clone of Galahad who had struck him before, dropped his weapon as he wrapped his arms around his waist, gripping onto him tightly.
"Get off me!"
He swung his free fist down on the clone, smashing it right against his head, but still it refused to let go.
He was about to hit him again, but then he suddenly felt a chill down his spine. His instincts screamed at him that something dangerous was coming.
'It's already here.'
Epsilon's fist crashed right into his skull, and packed full of Soul Essence, it was more like a sledgehammer slamming into flesh. His skin rippled on impact, with his cheeks flattening against his face for a split second before snapping back. A dull, meaty crack reverberated as knuckles collided with bone, sending a shockwave through his jaw.
Sylas's head jerked back violently, with spit and maybe even a fleck of blood spraying from his lips and trickling from his nose. The world tilted for him in an instant, vision rattling, ears ringing with the echo of the strike, as if the fist carried not just weight but the force of a small wrecking ball.
"Damnation...!"
His focus slipped away, and the strength in his legs simply vanished. He crumpled downward in a boneless collapse, arms hanging limp, knees buckling without a hint of control.
He was knocked out cold.
Falling back, Epsilon breathed a heavy sigh of relief, and then panic.
'I wasn't meant to knock him out damnit.'
Now that the Nightmare creatures puppet had lost its usefulness, the mind hex would move onto one of them. Gracia was the healthiest of them all, so it would probably choose her. Galahad was at half his strength, and Epsilon was still bleeding out, on top of his leg injury. Would they even stand a chance?
Before he could think any longer, Bob screamed into his ear,
"Epsilon! Back away from that guy, NOW!"
He tried to pick himself up to run, but in the end he could only drag himself away a little.
A thin dark fog leaked out of Sylas's body, engulfing his entire being
He began to rise once more. Immediately, his hand shot out and pulled his sword out from Galahads body, killing the clone on the spot. The first clone suddenly felt a pain in his chest, making him keel over while holding back a scream.
Gracia who was still stuck in Sylas's leg, twisted her sword to make him fall. But he simply didn't. Instead, his hand reached out and grabbed her by the shaft, and then he pulled her out by force.
She tried to escape and fly away, but Sylas's firm grip was impossible to break free from. Raising his own sword, he was just about to break her in two when a blast of white energy collided into his hand. It forced him to let go.
"You... you..! I'll kill you!"
Every moment where he was about to get an advantage, this white haired pest kept getting in the way.
'They all move together like some kind of filthy worm. When one falls, the other rises up to get in the way. If I can take out just one, just one! I'll get the advantage again."
**
"Use my spirit vision. There's something wrong with that guys soul."
Epsilon could use spirit vision constantly, but it made seeing with normal vision inconvenient. It was like looking into the world with a thick lens you didn't need. Although you could see more, most of it was clutter.
Turning it back on, Epsilon could see everyone's soul again including Sylas's. His was weirdly unique, as it wasn't a sphere of substance or light, but an entire object that resembled a sword. Except, it was broken in two.
But there was something wrong with it. There was a strange black mass latched onto it, and when Epsilon stared deeper into it, there he saw, four orbs of swirling darkness.
'An awakened devil.'
Bob then spoke,
"If I had to guess, then its a spirit like that girl. But rather than controlling objects, it can puppeteer other humans. I reckon if you kill the boy before it can leave, it'll die or leave it in great pain. You'll be able to finish it off afterwards at least."
'So our only chance at winning is killing Sylas?? I can't do that! Sylas is our ally, coming here would've been for nothing!'
"Well if you don't kill him, he'll kill you first."
Sylas locked eyes with Epsilon. His pupils were long gone, leaving only the white of his eyes left staring at him. Despite being unconscious and now being puppeteered by the Black Wraith, he seemed pissed.
'30 seconds have past haven't they.'
He was just about to use his ability, and the next person on his chopping block was Epsilon for sure. If he didn't do something, he'd die.