Marichi twisted, a worm in a storm, his body a blur of evasion as grotesque hands erupted and multiplied around him. He spun, his dagger a silver flash, severing those that encroached too close. But others, numb to his blade, brushed against him, their chilling touch a constant, insidious promise of unknown horrors.
Beside him, Jorel met the relentless assault with grim precision. His blade, a deadly instrument, sliced new hands clean off as soon as they formed, each strike was a precise counter to the grotesque regeneration.
Yet, Lezschill merely laughed, a mocking, wet sound, as droplets of black blood splattered the air, his limbs reknitting with horrifying, impossible speed.
Suddenly, Lezschill launched forward, his attacks turning terrifyingly aggressive. His hands blurred, muscles coiling and bulging with unnatural power, his legs propelling him with alarming speed across the ceiling like a predatory spider scuttling across its web.
Jorel and Marichi were swallowed by the onslaught, forced into a desperate, frantic dance of evasion. Cuts became impossible, they were overwhelmed by sheer speed and the enemy's ceaseless regeneration.
Then, meters away on the cracked ceiling, Burtu's hand faintly twitched.
A long, stressed groan tore from his throat, a raw sound of returning agony barely audible over the furious combat.
"Ahh…" A splitting headache slammed behind his eyes, as if his skull itself were trying to cleave apart. He tried to push himself up, his body a canvas of crimson and black blood, a gaping void where his abdomen had been----a chasm of ruined flesh.
"Wha…" His vision, blurred with pain, slowly sharpened, locking onto the brutal, fast-paced fight with Lezschill. One leg momentarily lost all feeling, but quickly regained it.
"What… happened?" He swayed, fighting for balance, his headache a relentless drum against his temples. Each ragged breath was a searing effort, burning in his lungs.
Slowly, sickeningly, Burtu's abdomen began to knit. A viscous black liquid sloshed at its center, creeping outward, filling the gaping maw of torn flesh. It articulated, seamlessly blending with his original skin, leaving him whole once more.
TWISH
Marichi's dagger found Lezschill's flesh, but the wound pulsed, healing instantly.
Can't keep going on like this
Marichi grunted as he dodged another flurry of hands.
Is all we can do just stab and cut?
He ducked under a flailing limb while his mind raced.
Jorel twisted and spun, his blade a graceful yet vigorous blur, severing hands only for new ones to bloom in their place. Each fresh growth stoked the fire of his temper.
He scoffed, pressing closer to Lezschill, slashing upwards along his side, shearing off another cluster of limbs. Lezschill recoiled, black blood drooling across the ceiling. He glanced at the stumps, then chuckled as they regenerated anew.
Jorel's sword lowered, his breath ragged, as he watched Lezschill hug himself with his countless hands, a grotesque self-embrace.
…Can nothing really kill this bastard?!
Jorel thought, wiping sweat from his brow.
Meanwhile, Burtu's eyes fixed on the battle, his blurred vision slowly regaining focus.
Why does my body hurt…
"Ahhh… What happened?" he groaned, his gaze drawn to the monstrosity draped in black cloth, grey hands writhing beneath it.
"Aahhh!" Burtu screamed, shuddering back, his body trembling uncontrollably.
His shriek sliced through the din of combat. Marichi and Jorel whipped their heads around, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Burtu?!" Marichi exclaimed, disbelief lacing his voice.
"H-He's alive?!" Jorel stuttered, his mind struggling to comprehend.
"But didn't they put a hole in your chest?" His question died as Lezschill's hands lunged, pulling him back into the fray.
"N-No… Not this again." Burtu whined, collapsing to the ground, trying to crawl away.
"Stay away!" he screamed at nothing visible.
"What the heck is happening?!" Marichi yelled, dodging Lezschill's attacks, eyes darting between his tormentor and the writhing Burtu.
He's shouting at something he can't see…
Wait… No…
Not that again.
Jorel's body stiffened, his mind recoiling to their earlier encounter with Burtu and the invisible monstrosity.
"Hey! Focus on me! Me!" Lezschill roared, one of his hands clamping around Jorel's face, a searing pain instantly rushing in.
Marichi, watching, backed away, putting distance between himself and Lezschill's regenerating limbs. He huffed, wiping sweat from his eyes.
He can regrow his limbs, his cuts too.
Could a healer be around here somewhere?
He scanned the desolate surroundings.
Or is he the healer himself?!
No… that's impossible.
I stabbed him in the head, but that did nothing.
So it's just his ability… not a healer's.
Marichi readied his dagger, his mind still racing, darting around for answers.
"Let me just finish with him…" Lezschill hissed, tightening his grip on Jorel.
"But I'll come for you." He pointed a finger at a tired Marichi.
Jorel writhed, desperately trying to cut himself free. Lezschill's other hands snaked out, seizing Jorel's feet and hands, stretching him wide. A faint pop echoed.
Meanwhile, Burtu continued to moan, struggling for breath as he knelt on the ground.
"That thing is here again…" he muttered, his voice choked with terror.
That thing?
Marichi watched Burtu, his mind still pondering. He dashed past Lezschill and Jorel, lunging directly at Burtu, stabbing the air precisely in front of him.
But his blade met nothing.
Wha…
His eyes widened in shock.
"What exactly attacked you just now?" Marichi demanded, shaking Burtu.
"I-It's that thing I told you about before…" Burtu strained, eyes wide with horror.
"That black clothed being…"
So it really did follow us.
Marichi thought, his gaze sweeping the empty air around Burtu. He saw nothing.
"Where did it go?" Marichi demanded.
"Y-Yes… Nice and slow," Lezschill purred in the background, drawing out Jorel's torment.
"I-It's r-right behind you." Burtu lifted a trembling finger, pointing behind Marichi, as if restrained by an unseen force. Marichi spun, dagger ready, his heart hammering against his ribs.
---The end of chapter 29---