Chapter 1523 (1/2)

DiOrtho Vant roared in challenge and spread his arms out wide. His flesh rippled and trembled as he allowed his signature Skill to do its bloody work. Across his the span of his back, his flesh began to ripple and tear as weapons forced themselves past the confines of his person and into the air, carrying with them bits of shredded flesh as a testament to their journey.

A broadsword with a line of gold along the center of the blade pierced directly out of DiOrtho’s left shoulder blade and proudly dribbled blood across his back. A two-headed ax cut out just above DiOrtho’s right hip. Two spears with their white tassels stained with blood pressed up out of his shoulder.

And at the core of him, that deafening foundry continued to churn, prepared to create more and more until he could grasp victory.

Congratulations! Your Skill Infinite Armaments (L) has grown to Level 269!

His shoulders heaved as blood dripped down and mixed with the mud of the pit. He eased up on the Skill, allowing his body to settle into this facsimile of a metallic and war-mongering hedgehog.

While his body trembled with something akin to ecstasy from the combination of pain and power of his image, DiOrtho reached up and seized a middling sword with a slight curve to it that was pocking out of his right side. The weapon cut into his hand as he seized the blade and ripped it all the way out of his body. His side throbbed as he casually flipped the sword to grab the hilt. He flexed his hand, trying to squeeze out all the pesky blood that was making his grip slippery.

Opposite, the unflappable flame elemental Jieu Ronault tilted his head to the side as he considered DiOrtho’s display. “You truly are a masochist. Is all of this sacrifice necessary for a spar?”

DiOrtho sneered. “All power requires sacrifice. That attitude is why I’m the strongest and you are not.”

Jieu didn’t even bother to respond to the blatant provocation. Instead, he gestured sharply and conjured six pillars of frozen flames around DiOrtho’s position. DiOrtho rolled quickly to the side then pounced forward at his foe. Moving as smoothly as a conductor motioning his string section to raise a single note, Jieu slid sideways out of DiOrtho’s path. He then brought his hand up and a sea of flames fluttered weakly across the whole of the surroundings.

Although Jieu’s strange flames appeared mild and somehow slowed, the ram demon had personally experienced their power. The heat they released was localized but overwhelming.

Still, DiOrtho ignored the defensive Skill and tightened his grip on the sword in his hand. Some aggressive instinct in his chest told him that this defensive move wouldn’t be enough. As long as he hit hard enough, he would overwhelm the flame elemental. So he planted his feet and he swung that random sword, still perhaps two meters away from his sparring partner.

The abomination of metal and gears that belched out smog in his chest groaned.

Congratulations! Your Skill Fang of the Ancient Machine Horror (A) has grown to Level 267!

There was an ominous buzzing as DiOrtho’s slash cut through the air. At the same time, a massive mound of clicking gears and servo engines loomed over the battlefield. Jieu noticed the viciousness of the impending attack and raised the field of too-still flames to a greater height, but the enormous machine suppressed them directly. Its attack cut through the ground and smashed into Jieu’s body.

Physically, there wasn’t any response from DiOrtho’s bloody slash; the blow phased through the flame elemental with only the slightest flame ripple in response. But the condensed Mana and image behind that attack hit a second later, impacting brutally and causing the elemental to bubble and froth strangely.

DiOrtho’s fingers tightened on his sword for a follow-up strike just as the Overseer intervened.

“Stop! Vant, you arrogant piece of shit, what don’t you understand about not being able to use physical attacks as a focus?”

The disciplinary from the Overseer burst was sharp and brutal. It smashed downward between DiOrtho’s shoulder blades, obliterating his Infinite Armaments Skill and instantly suppressing his image. The attack caused DiOrtho to stagger, wrath and pain mixing smoothly together in his body. The concoction bubbled and smoldered as it flowed through DiOrtho’s veins. The Overseer grimaced and cracked his knuckles. A second burst of pressure struck down, so fast that even the furious DiOrtho could only accept that he was being smashed to the side. He skidded along the muddy ground and then rolled against the muddy wall of the pit.

These self-righteous shits… DiOrtho fantasized about the day he was more powerful than them and could simply kill them all. He knew that it wouldn’t be in the near future… even if he could rival the various Overseers that followed him around and disciplined constantly, DiOrtho felt quite a bit of fear toward the Ghosthound.

So long as that man cast such a long shadow, DiOrtho wouldn’t strike at his subordinates. He might have an anger problem, but he didn’t have a deathwish.

After interacting with his crazed ‘ancestor’ on only a few occasions, DiOrtho had learned to recognize the scent of one whose hands had been soaked in blood. Someone who hadn't just extinguish a single life, but had reaped thousands. Those few moments where the Ghosthound had seen fit to descend in front of them, his capability for death was a palpable thing. It lurked behind the darkness in his left eye, just waiting for the chance to escape.

When DiOrtho looked at it, he realized how pale and wane his aggression was in comparison.