133 The Coming Tempes (1/2)

The bojokans cowered in fear, all but their leader. The steel wires wobbled along his skin, the monster trembling. The force in his words slammed into me. I stayed steady, my will like iron. Yawm turned towards me,

“You still stand? Ah yes, you invested into willpower perks. A spirit like yours fights against suppression. These eldritch on the other hand are akin to animals.”

He gestured at them, “They shudder, terrified of a meaningful presence.” He stared at the bojokan boss, his eyes drilling into its mind. He spread his hands, “And you still defy me?”

Yawm took a step forward, and the metallic bojokan wilted, cowering in terror. Yawm laughed, and the bojokan stood back up straight. The eerie grin on its face transformed into a scowl. The monster twitched at random, its nerves overwhelming it. I stared at it, analyzing it.

Bojokan Originator(lvl 2,623) - Damn this poor bastard. Looks like he’s about to get humiliated in front of his underlings. Man, I’m sick of these statuses not working.

The ruined analyses bothered me now. Without their concise explanations, understanding the eldritch took time and observation. My lips pressed into a thin line while I watched Yawm step towards the eldritch boss.

The originator lifted its shaking arm. Its mouth and lips quivered, clanking its teeth. For the first time, a lump of pity formed in me over an eldritch. I never imagined that happening, but there’s a first time for everything.

I leapt over Yawm, sailing over him and over the rows of chairs around the theater. As I reached the originator, it slashed towards me with clawed hands. Burning a jolt of mana, I directed its attack away from me with a stream of gravity. The mouth of the monster flew forward, its maw gaping in shock.

With a slicing kick, I ripped a telekinetic bolt through its mouth. Its bottom jaw dislocated, popping out of socket with skin tearing right after. It fell sideways, crashing against the theater. My mass outdid the monsters. I was heavier.

I landed onto the wooden boards of the theater, dispersing my weight outward. I shot forward, detonating my runic energy. I pulled my leg back, flying through the air. I kicked at the bojokan’s face. My foot rushed into the upper jaw of the monster, snapping teeth. The telekinetic bullet fired right into the skull of the monster.

As it did, I transferred my body’s inertia. I stopped moving, but the metal skull of the monster slung backwards into the edge of the building. A hole punctured through its head, like I planted a shotgun against it and fired.

Steel ruptured. Bone cracked. I landed on the theater with grace. The originator’s mind suffered from fear, preventing it from defending itself. In that state of mind, it posed no challenge to me. It disappointed me a bit more than it should have.

More concerned about the world eater, I raised an eyebrow at Yawm,

“So why exactly are you tormenting these damn things? Just kill them for god’s sake.”

Yawm waved away my concern with a flourish of his hand,

“These eldritch didn’t reproduce rapidly, their need for food stifles their longevity, and they lack intellect. What quality do they have that deserves dignity or respect?”

I waved my hands around, “Well, I don’t know, maybe because they’re alive?”

Yawm laughed, “They would offer you no mercy if the roles were reversed. In fact, they relished in the thought of inflicting anguish on us. Bojokans are notorious for torturing their victims. I treated them as they would treat me, with cruelty.”

I shook my head, “Just because they’re evil doesn’t mean we should be evil.”

Yawm jumped onto the stage,

“Evil is a relative term. I promise you, they view my evil as strength. They view your virtue as weakness, and they’ll stab your back for showing that weakness.”