The heat inside that world born of technique was suffocating. The air vibrated with an invisible pressure, dense as molten lead. Ibaki no longer responded. His body lay sprawled, lifeless… cold.
—Zzzzt! A faint crackle swept through the air, as if the mirrors were feeding on his energy.
—One down —Minao growled, a twisted smile curling his lips as he walked barefoot across the gleaming mirrors—. Now I'll come for you… but first, I'd like to explain why my technique is so powerful.
His voice echoed off the crystal walls, warped into something almost demonic.
Dakur stood in a different section from Pikur and the fallen Ibaki, his eyes narrowed, guard raised. He had heard before how devastating the Omeraje's special technique could be.
Sweat slid down his forehead, evaporating instantly in the sweltering heat. The air smelled of iron… of blood.
—My ability is to absorb a guardian's divine energy… and turn it into cursed energy. ZZZZZT! —Minao explained, spreading his arms wide—. By doing this, the Blood Mirror's power grows stronger, and once I've drained every last drop of power from your cores… CLANK! —he struck his sword against the ground— I'll step in and use my blade to take your heads.
He laughed, a grotesque sound that tore through the tension like a rusty knife.
—Keh keh keh…
—Well, looks like we're in trouble —Dakur said tensely, though his composure never wavered.
Pikur, lacking much divine energy, began to falter. His muscles trembled, his knees buckled. It felt as though his strength was draining away, like water through an invisible sieve.
—I think we've found our chosen one —Minao shouted with glee, launching himself like a shadow toward Pikur.
BOOOOM!
His sword swung with deadly force, the blade whistling like lightning ready to strike. His target: Pikur's head.
CRACK!
But suddenly, an impact knocked the strike aside. Dakur had appeared, hitting Minao so hard he was sent crashing into the mirrors, shattering the silence with a SHHHRAKK! that unleashed a rippling red flash through the world of the technique.
—How… how are you still standing? —Minao spat from the ground, stunned.
—You mentioned that your technique's world absorbs the energy of everything it traps —Dakur replied, lowering his arm slowly—. But you overlooked something. My rank A guardian skill allows me to suppress my core, so it only releases as much as I decide.
Minao leapt to his feet with feline speed.
—And if I'm not mistaken, that ability also wears down the user who activates it —Dakur added.
Minao let out a short, booming laugh.
—Hah!
—I admit, you caught me off guard —he said—, but your assumption has no basis. Let me explain… —he raised his arms as cursed energy crackled around him— Zzzzzt… I am a fighter who wields cursed energy as a weapon. That gives me an edge, because every skill I have is rooted in it. I don't weaken… on the contrary, I grow stronger.
Dakur clenched his teeth. For a moment, he'd assumed his opponent was inexperienced due to his youth. But Minao's aura was darkening, growing heavier—a murderous presence.
—You thought that just because I look young, I didn't know how to use my technique —Minao sneered—. Fool! Unlike guardians, who use divine power and wear themselves down, humans who wield cursed power grow younger… and stronger. See the difference, you piece of shit?
Dakur held his ground. Minao raised his sword with both hands.
—Now… die!
Cursed Technique: Sea of Death!
BOOOOOOOOOOM!
Black waters began surging from every corner of the mirror world. Like an inverted tsunami, the waves of darkness flooded the entire domain. The mirrored reflections twisted and screamed in silence as they were swallowed by corruption.
In seconds, the place became a lifeless black ocean. The temperature plummeted.
SPLAAAAASH!
Dakur couldn't move his body—nor could his disciple. Their limbs felt heavy as molten lead.
Pikur was the most desperate, gasping for air, fighting against the primal urge to drown. Oxygen was running thin. His divine energy was depleting fast, as though evaporating into the water.
—Pikur! —Dakur gritted his teeth—. Calm down, or you'll lose the last of your strength… That's the whole point of this ability.
The black waters began clinging to their bodies, sticky, heavy, invasive… like living tar.
This looked like the end.
How could they possibly make it out alive?