Chapter 88 (2/2)

But now Randidly slowly started to see the use of swinging the butt of the spear around for a staggering blow, intermixing Roundhouse Kicks to throw the opponent off. Slowly at first, but with greater surety, Footwork of the Spear Phantom guided him easily from one enemy to the other, the deaths continuing unabated.

It was likely aided by Grace, which almost inexplicably streamlined his movements, just a hair, but enough to notice during particularly complicated portions of his fighting style.

That was, Randidly realized, what he was doing. He was discovering his fighting style.

Almost immediately he stopped using Agony, although it was incredibly effective. It left the monsters around him almost helpless, barely a challenge at all. But as he let the spell fall around him, the monsters staggered, then peered at him with hateful eyes.

As rapidly as their low leveled bodies could manage, they threw themselves at him, hissing and spitting and clacking. Randidly grinned, his spear moving to meet them.

It was, Randidly realized, a great weapon. Before it, the monsters were nothing. He had never really gotten into Shal’s fanatical pursuit of the godhood that was becoming a true spearman, but Randidly couldn’t help but marvel at the utility a spear provided to him. Thus far he had relied on Shal’s moves, but in his moment, Randidly was starting to see…

The spear was designed perfectly as a killing tool. Oppressively powerful. Quick and graceful. Vicious and deadly. The question was never whether the spear was enough, but only whether the person wielding it could bring to bear its true, oppressive power. Seeking that goal, of becoming an individual who could wield even but a fraction of the spear’s power, Shal dedicated his life.

Inexplicably, a month after Shal had he had parted, Randidly was beginning to see it, that path. As his spear blurred and gore coated him, he saw it, the point, the motivation. The path to strength. The goal.

The Spearman.

Slowly, but with increasing confidence, Randidly began to use his skills more rapidly and efficiently, becoming an absolute storm of deadly bone, swirling around a man, dancing in his hand. Heedless to the Skill Levels he gained, his eyes slowly unfocused, until there was only action and reaction, the spear and himself.

The enemies fell away, lost in the backdrop of other. Into the spear ‘Randidly’s focus turned, towards the spear. If he could wield it perfectly…

Unbeknownst to him, as he lost himself in the killing, glowing lines began to form on his throat, drawing out esoteric runes. His eyes, always brightly, began to glow faintly, lending a green cast to  the slaughter.

But all Randidly did was grin, his spear splitting open the skull of a nearby skeleton and then ripping his spear out and spinning, slashing several of its compatriots to pieces.

‘This…’ Randidly thought. ‘Is fun.’

***

Lyra sourly gazed at their surroundings. The area around Turtle Town was still deserted, a silent, rotting graveyard. The piles and piles of bodies were a testament to the town’s continued ability to defend itself, but it didn’t make it anymore cheery.

Walking quickly, Lyra led the way to one of the partially destroyed buildings that marked the edge of the “inhabited” zone of Turtle Town, by blinking forward, teleporting short distances. Kim-Lath, still wearing the appearance of Randidly, flowed behind her, its body turning into a liquid and running up the wall, only to reform next to Lyra up above.

“So?” It asked, smiling a wide smile at Lyra. The kind of bland, empty thing that Randidly would never actually bother with. The kind of smile that hid cruel intentions.

Ignoring it, Lyra moved forward, running across rooftops, avoiding the subdued people that walked around the interior, ignoring the patrols of guards decked out in police riot gear. Instead, she ran towards a gaudy hotel that rose above the nearby buildings. If she were a dumb king, she would probably choose that spot for his hideout.

‘Still,’ Lyra thought, looking dubiously up at the buildings in front of her. ‘I won’t be able to manage this with normal methods…’

“Now what?” The fake-Randidly/real-Tribulation asked, still smiling. Lyra stopped and turned and looked at his face, even worn by another. Inwardly, she felt something give.

She had sworn she would stop doing this, but…

There it was within her, the elusive, violet mercury energy that she held within her chest. That everyone held.  Ice cold and earth’s core hot, it pulsed in time with her heart. She touched it, and her whole existence burned, lighting up like a visual representation of computer’s orgasm, all bright lights and sizzling plastic. Then she moved.

Within the next second, she was standing atop the large, gaudy hotel, having teleported 100 meters upwards. She swayed unsteadily, wincing. It would take days for her to replace the energy she had lost there. And even then, Lyra worried that her levels had been reduced too much, past the point where it was harmless to use.

Still, Lyra thought, her mouth quirking up. It was worth it, if just for the rush.

Her careful senses caught the mana fluctuation as the Randidly illusion appeared next to her, a long thin tendril, running from this spot, off into the distance…

‘That was powerful, you certainly are an extraordinary mage,” The projection said, its tone humble. But Lyra ignored it, staring off into the distance, as if she was lost in thought.

After a few seconds, her eyes snapped back into focus, her gaze amused. The trail had gone cold. She needed a few more data points.

“Now we break in and say hello.”