by L. M. Kerr
And beyond that, the loyalty of the lower Numbers seemed to be shifting. They still treated him with near adoration levels of respect, but their eyes alighted on Number 1. The observations he made were subtle, but he was certain of his hunch. He had examined things a dozen times over already, thinking on the issue for days.
And thus, one thing led to another, and he eventually found himself here. To end things directly, he opted to directly confront Number 1 and the lower Numbers, the allies and comrades he had recruited to join him on their lifelong quest.
And it was a simple quest.
To create an organization that was so powerful, all of humanity would have to listen to its whims. And by doing so, restore order to this chaos-strewn reality.
He had no tragic past to regale others with, no epic mission to stake everything against. He was simply determined to change this world for the better, and knew that there was no one better for the job than himself. He would give up everything, even his original name, to do what he believed in, as if he had been reborn for this very purpose.
His determination was like a mountain, immovable in the face of anything and everything. He had climbed his way from the bottom all the way to where he was now, through his sheer, mindless dedication to his simple cause.
His arrival had frozen the atmosphere over as everyone in the room stared at him, their fear and guilt palpable. Prime noted down and memorized each and every reaction, a sinking feeling filling his chest. They were brothers in arms, were they not? One and all, trying to make this reality a better place? When did he become an object of fear to them?
“What have I done, Director?” Number 1 stood at the head of the table, a powerful, golden Aura bursting free from him as he took a step forward.
“I have done what needed to be done. To save the Nightrunners, to save our very race! I have done everything that I must do! And I will stand here, unashamed for my actions!” This Aura grew in intensity, to such a degree that everyone in the room took a step back.
Everyone but the bored-looking Number 6. When Prime’s eyes flicked over to look at him, he noted that the Aura Garen was giving off wasn’t affecting Number 6 in the slightest.
As he glanced between both warriors, he realized he could sense something… different. Something about the way they sat or stood, the look in their eyes, the feeling of their Ki…
Number 1 had become stronger, much stronger.
And so had Number 6.
Both of them had, out of nowhere, become incredibly strong. But underneath that increased power, Prime could feel something. Something unerring. The long experience with battle he’d picked up over the years could tell it was the scent of death.
This power they had gained… it had come at a price. A price measured in lives.
“I see.” Prime said slowly, his words measured.
He looked at them. He looked at the others, huddling or frozen in fear. His closest allies, men and women he cared dearly for, horrified by the mere sight of him. He looked around the room, feeling the emotions in the air.
And then he turned around and left.
.. .. .. .. .. ..
“And so here we are now.” Micheal’s words shattered Prime’s thoughts, bringing the man back to the present.
“All of this because you couldn’t bear to do what must be done.”
For the first time, Micheal saw a hint of real, genuine emotion appear on Prime’s face.
A flash of red, unrelenting anger warped onto Prime’s face for a split second, his eyes twitching. That emotion vanished a second later as Prime froze time to gather himself, but not before Micheal picked up on it.
‘That's it. I have him.’ He thought, a seed of excitement buried in his heart. Now all he needed to do was live.
Before he could dwell on that feeling, Prime’s words shattered his own thoughts. This time, when Prime spoke, the air began to take on a heavy feeling. A tangible, white layer of energy began to rise from the Director’s body as his voice echoed in the air,
“If what you say is true, I will find this man, and I will kill him.” He spoke as if pronouncing the inevitable,
“But for what you have done to my comrades, I can never forgive you. For the information you've given me, should it be true, you will have my thanks. However...” Prime bent his knees and reached out his hands to either side.
The two spears he’d set down abruptly flew into his hands, the Monster Class Morenkai corpses on them flinging off to fall to the ground.
“No matter what, this room shall be your grave.”
.
Chapter 77
Director Prime made the first move.
With almost unearthly grace, the man stepped off from the upper balcony of the theatre and began to fall down.
The instant Prime moved, Micheal reacted.
His right hand settled onto his Spatial Ring as he pulled out three large gas grenades.
How do you fight a man that can stop time and analyze your every movement? It was something Micheal had pondered for a long while, and eventually reached a couple of conclusions.
The first was to depend on his Spatial Ring.
No matter how much time Prime spent studying him, the man would never be able to peer into the contents of his Spatial Ring when time was frozen. That meant he could squirrel away various tools to use in the battle without Prime being aware of them.
This was part of why, before he started this mission, he had temporarily switched Spatial Rings, using a temporary Low-Tier one that he stocked full of everything he thought he might need.
The second conclusion he’d reached was, of course, to depend on those tools to aid him.
Prime was four to five times stronger than Micheal’s base stats. Micheal had yet to use his Bracken Enhancement Fluid potion, saving it for later. Direct combat with such a huge difference, against Prime, was extremely unfeasible.
The three grenades Micheal had pulled out were each about the size of his closed fist. They were colored black with a sleek metallic luster, and had small ‘x’s drawn onto their sides.
Micheal lobbed two of these grenades down towards the ground, while lobbing the third one up towards Prime.
The Director noticed Micheal’s actions immediately and responded by halting his fall in mid-air. Micheal’s eyes flashed as he recognized the pair of shoes Prime was wearing.
Cloud Stepping Shoes, the exact same type Micheal wore.
The grenades Micheal had thrown towards the ground fell down with simultaneous thuds and then subsequently exploded, sending out two waves of black gas.
Before they hit, however, a small throwing knife coated in Advanced Tier Sword Energy blazed through the air and…
Instead of slamming into the third gas grenade Micheal had lobbed, it ricocheted off a second knife that had been thrown to intercept it.
A knife that also glowed with cutting, red energy…
Micheal’s eyes narrowed when he saw this. That was Advanced Tier Weapon Energy, likely Sword or Spear Energy just like his own. Most Weapon Energies acted and looked very similar.
However, just from looking at it, he could tell that the user had grasped only a rudimentary understanding of Advanced Tier Sword Mastery. They were still laying their initial foundation.
Prime was a genius tactician that could stop time to plan and study, but something like Sword Mastery came about as a result of gaining an understanding not only of your weapon, but of the mysterious energy that held up all of reality. It took a certain kind of mindset to make progress, something that had taken Micheal years of experience to pick up.
If one was guided by a wise teacher or possessed a Type Ability that was disposed specifically toward Weapon Energy, one could exponentially increase their rate of improvement. The Sundering Swordmaster Bastien Amiot, in Micheal’s past life, possessed the Limited Sword God Type, and was said to have used that to reach the World Master Tier of Sword Mastery, a step above Grandmaster.
It was virtual
ly unheard of to reach the Grandmaster Tier without a guiding Type Ability or an experienced teacher, even if one practiced for a dozen years.
Micheal lacked both of those things in his past life, but so, too, did Prime in this life. The fact that Prime managed to reach the Advanced Tier in three years was a testament to the man's considerable talent and perseverance. That said...
When their two knives collided, Micheal’s knife sliced through Prime’s like it was butter.
The Sword Energy Micheal used could be considered at the absolute peak of Advanced Tier, while Prime’s was still learning the basics. There was no real comparison to be made. Even the much stronger throwing force behind Prime’s knife was useless in the face of such a qualitative difference.
A frown appeared on Micheal’s face as he saw the two blades collide, processing everything in an instant.
Prime’s dagger fell apart, sliced into shards. However, while his weapon couldn’t damage Micheal’s dagger, the powerful strength behind the throw, aided by the cutting power of his Advanced Tier Weapon Energy, was just enough to slightly alter the path of Micheal’s throw.
‘Cunning bastard. Still, it’ll hit you anyway.’ Micheal couldn’t help but feel a hint of grudging respect. Prime had recognized his own inferiority and accounted for it, something very few strong warriors could handle.
As a result, Micheal’s dagger missed the grenade by a couple of centimeters.
Without Micheal’s knife to redirect it, the gas grenade he’d lobbed upward continued to fly up till it reached the ceiling. Once it collided with the roof, it exploded, letting out a torrent of black gas that slowly drifted down, but rapidly spread to cover the entire ceiling.
Micheal wasn’t able to see this, however, as by this time, the black gas from the ground swarmed over him.
His body shivered as tendrils of poison crept into him. The gas had rapidly spread and expanded, growing to cover the entire floor of the theatre. A sickening sensation swept over him as he felt the gas seep into his blood, weakening him.
This black gas was known as Mire Wicker Poison, released by a Mire Wicker Flower. It was a light, airy gas that could float and easily spread, commonly found in certain dangerous swamps on the Second Layer. Its poison was corrosive and focused on weakening whatever creature walked into it.
The weakened creatures would eventually collapse and have their nutrients be absorbed into the nearby soil, essentially becoming the Mire Wicker Flower’s fertilizer. This gas was extremely hard to resist, mostly because it carried several special spiritual properties. Even if you were fully covered from head to toe and breathing in outside oxygen, as long as you came within range of the gas, you would suffer from its effects.
The grenades weren’t effective in large open areas, but that wasn't the case for crowded, dense swamps that had dense foliage and thick trees. Anything open would cause the poison to disperse rather quickly. A closed-off theatre inside a skyscraper was a perfect place to make use of the deadly toxin.
The white bracelet Micheal wore on his wrist glowed slightly as he activated it, using his willpower to stave off the feeling of weakness and foggy senses for now.
Immediately, he could sense a powerful force of energy emanating around a dozen meters away from him. Beyond that, he could sense an immense force floating around 30 meters away from him, over on the front stage of the theatre. The Monster Class Nest Core, silently observing.
Micheal ignored the Nest as he zeroed in on Director Prime. The Mire Wicker Poison was rapidly filling up the room, floating upward to encompass everything. Thanks to his bracelet, Micheal could easily pinpoint exactly where Prime was, regardless of his weakened and foggy senses.
The poison was dense and impossible to see through unless one had a special eye-based Ability, which Micheal was certain Prime didn’t have. As a result, Micheal was confident that Prime was unable to see him.
Of course, considering that Prime was almost certainly repeatedly stopping time to pinpoint his location and actions, that point was a bit redundant. Still, the toxin was definitely weakening Prime’s senses.
Micheal’s mind raced ahead of him as he tried to predict and react even further.
It had only been a couple of seconds, but he had to assume that Prime had already determined and found a way to heal himself from this poison. From history, Micheal knew that Mire Wicker Poison was notoriously difficult to recover from and, unless some of the special healing Abilities were used, the best antidotes would take several minutes to repress the effects.
That meant he had several minutes to work with. Prime couldn’t have encountered this type of poison yet, because only someone who had been on the Second Layer would know how to get it from the Shop. The man couldn’t possibly account for things he couldn’t know, the one advantage Micheal had.
Of course, that also meant that everything Micheal did, he could only get away with once. If he failed… well, that would be that. There would be no second chances.
Abruptly, Micheal jerked backward, his heart pounding as he forced himself to fall down and jump at the same time, angled so low he was almost on the floor. He raised his left arm out in front of his chest, tapping on his Spatial Ring.
A large, blue shield appeared, covering his chest up completely.
Not even a heartbeat later, Micheal felt thuds as three daggers slammed into the shield. Each dagger sank all the way to the hilt, their blades powered by Advanced Tier Sword Energy or Spear Energy, Micheal was still unsure which of the two. They functioned and looked almost identical.
If he hadn’t dodged in that frantic moment, one of the daggers would’ve pierced his left eye, the other one his right, while the third would’ve stabbed into his heart.
The blue shield Micheal wielded was ripped from his arms due to the sheer force of the throw. Micheal winced slightly as he felt that, but let it go, instead tapping on his Spatial Ring once more as he prepared a counter.
Before he could do anything else, however…
Micheal’s head knocked into one of the theatre seats.
‘Damn.’ His heart plunged as he cursed internally. He had planned for the uneven terrain as best he could, if he did end up fighting here, but planning and doing everything live were two very different things. With his senses dulled, fighting in essentially pure darkness, it was especially difficult to get a reading on his surroundings.
Micheal’s reaction was perfect. He grabbed ahold of the seat and used it to help flip himself backwards and over it, leaving virtually no opening of any sort. At almost the same time, his Ashari Blade appeared in his right hand in a guard position in front of his chest.
Unfortunately, ‘virtually no opening’ only applied to normal people.
While he was mid-flip, Micheal felt rather than saw two daggers pierce through the air towards him, aimed at exactly where he was. He could also sense Prime beginning to move out from floating in the air, the man’s energy signature descending towards the ground.
Micheal tilted his Ashari Blade at a precise angle, coating it in a layer of Sword Energy. He perfectly intercepted the first dagger that was plunging towards his throat, sending it careening off towards the stage with a flick of his wrist.
The resulting impact almost broke his hand and numbed his entire arm despite his perfect deflection.
These daggers carried more force than the previous three, each one enough to send Micheal careening. If he had pulled another shield out to block them, he would’ve been crushed backwards against it due to the awkward angle. Deflecting them was the only possible solution he could work with.
Unfortunately for him, Micheal was only able to deflect a single one of daggers. The other one was aimed just far away enough from the first that it was impossible for him to block. All he could do was jerk his legs as far up as he could.
Not enough to dodge the blade, however.
A burning sensation slashed into Micheal’s left leg as a dagger sank deeply into his flesh, piercing through his fancy
leather armor as if it was non-existent. The blade sank all the way to the hilt and then cut cleanly through his lower thigh, boring a huge hole into his lower body.
“Arrgh!” Micheal spat out a grimace as he finished flipping, his body cascading backwards to land in the middle of the seats. He shut out the pain from his leg, sending a sliver of Ki down to prevent it from gushing blood as he leaned on one of the seats.
They were less than 30 seconds into the battle, and yet he had already taken an injury that would’ve ended the battle for other warriors.
This was Director Prime, the strongest man in the First Layer.
A single misstep could have fatal consequences.
“Your reactions and planning are among the best I have ever faced. I find it ludicrous to believe you are simply an 18 year old. I now firmly believe that you have lived through certain visions of the future.” Prime’s voice echoed out calmly as the man landed a half dozen meters away, sounding the very image of a man in control.
Micheal didn’t reply, but instead took the time to regulate his breathing. He forcefully prevented his body from going into shock as he tapped into his Ki, his senses focused entirely on the energy signature that was standing just a few meters away.
By this point, the Mire Wicker Poison had fully engulfed the room, covering it entirely in a black haze.
‘Focus, Micheal. Stick to the plan.’ A small trail of blood leaked from his lips as his eyes gleamed, piercing through the poison fog to gaze at Prime,
‘Everything is still going perfectly.’
.
Chapter 78
Meanwhile…
.. .. .. .. .. ..
Apart from Number 6 holding Number 2’s corpse, Number 10 was also present downstairs, as were a few Nightrunners that Shin didn’t recognize. From the grey lines marked on their black robes, he could tell that they were all Cell Captains, the strongest warriors below the Numbers.