Abel was thinking fast…
But he had to move faster. Michelle wasn't dead, yet. If he didn't end this fight quickly, she would be.
But this was Abel's first time fighting a Transcendent, and even if he had theoretical knowledge on his opponents abilities, it still didn't mean he had the experience.
And waiting for his opponent to strike wasn't the best answer. He had to take initiative, and fast.
Currently, the old man swung his blade incessantly, with no trained precision.
He swung it sometimes like a hatchet, and sometimes like a sword, a quick tell that he had no training in weapon usage. A small advantage.
The old man rushed from Abel's left, who retaliated by dodging and shooting at point blank range.
The old man weaved to the right, dodging the shot as he intended to go for a stab.
Abel sent his own dagger downwards, forcing the blade away from his stomach.
Then, he pointed his gun aimed for the man's head.
Bang!!!
The man's head and then body exploded into a puff of black smoke, vanishing from sight.
Gone!
This Again Abel moaned, as he jumped into the air, dodging a dagger aimed for his hip.
Fighting a Shadowmancer in a dimly lit room was one of the worst case scenarios he could find himself in.
Shadowmancers had an ability that allowed them to seamlessly merge with and move in shadows, making them stealthy killers.
The old man emerged from the shadows, his hand grasping the wound on his stomach that had slowly begun to heal.
"Tch, you Church folks always are annoying to deal with…" he winced in pain, before lifting his blade at me.
"This next one will kill you" he stated with an unhinged killing intent.
Abel could feel the sensation of his blade on his neck, legs and even his stomach.
His instincts were going overdrive, warning him that no part of his body was safe.
And there was no way to dodge any of it…
As he readied for the incoming attack, the old man was already before him.
He had moved faster than Abel's time dilation could keep up with.
Shit!!!
Abel tried to move, but it seemed he himself was frozen. His shadow was currently larger than normal, as if the darkness of the room had rooted him in place.
I need to…
The old man's blade swept near Abel's ear, it's hum whispering uncouth words that even he feared to utter, like the ravings of a mad man.
Just as the blade was to nick his jugular vein, a cold and authoritative voice resounded in both their ears.
***
In the Tomb of Madrian
Ratchliffe stood with his arms folded and his eyes closed, his body in a state of sleep and waking.
"Where is Abel? I can't sense him" he muttered as his face scrunched into a frown.
Freya's face maintained it's calm, her eyes on the artifact as it hummed. Her ears twitching as she tried to understand what was being hummed.
Suddenly, the whole tomb shook.
The Chalice vibrated and screamed… and then…
It all stopped…
Rathcliffe was dragged out of his dream, his eyes dilated.
Just as he was to speak, a cold voice reverberated in a low roar…
Y̶̬̬̞̥͇͎̤͔͉̲͋̿͆̚o̴̢̡̮̞̰̟̥̬̣͔̐ư̶̞͎͌̄̏͊̄̒̎̅͑ ̵̣̺̳͇̹̘̜̘̩͉̺̹̜̖̼̬̎̎͊͛͂̆̀͛̅̂̏͛̿̀͊̍̾̐̅́́̊̽̀̿̇͘͘͝͠D̷̡̟͙̞̖͖̘͙̮̪̈́̆̓͋̆͒̀͗̓͒̃̋̋̚͜͝͝ą̷̧̨̨̖̜̟̝͓̳̤̤̺̤͇͇͙͎̯͙͇̪̞̭͖̾̃͘͜ͅr̷̡͇̻̪̱̼͎͎͈̦̪̙̻̱̭̝̳̤͖̠̙͙̫̦͓̾͂̌́̈́́̒̊̈́̓̅͌̄̓́́ͅe̵̡̛̬͙̹̜͊̊̐́̃̇͘?̴͈͖̣͕̜͙̼͉̗͙͊̎̐̎̄́̆́͝
***
When Abel opened his eyes, he found himself in an open space, a familiar place.
Just like that time
Suddenly, Abel began to remember, his brain recalling memories and emotions long lost to it.
It was like the memory was stuck somewhere he couldn't reach, unless…
I was in mortal danger!!!
Now he understood somewhat.
He looked around the white space, looking for any signs of the old man.
He saw the old man just before him, frozen in place. He was like a mannequin in this place, unmoving.
Well except for his eyes. His eyes were very much alive.
And they were filled with confusion.
Abel moved away, looking at the frozen figure before him. His eyes focused on the dagger in his hand.
A beautiful weapon if one has ever seen one.
Looking at it closely, it was shaped like the beak of a bird, even its curvature mimicking the face of a crow.
He placed his finger in the blade, rubbing it's smooth blade.
Suddenly, a rush of information gushed into his brain like a dam, both necessary and unnecessary.
Abel held his head in pain due to the information overload.
But the information suddenly became uniform.
Artifact Name: Ataxia's Woes
Abilities: A sharp blade made from the beak of Ataxia, the right eye of Kumalkan of the Abyssal Legion.
A blade of blasphemy, it strives in taking the head of its opponents, ending them in one blow.
If the head is taken, all shall be forgotten.
Beware of its mad ravings, it tends to speak unspeakable blasphemies, the reason for its beheading in the first place.
The information on the dagger flooded his head, the only difference from recorded artifacts was that it had no grade nor code.
Abel smiled, looking at the frozen figure before him.
The old man's eyes seemed to be afraid of something, shifting vehemently.
Just as Abel was to speak, a voice spoke from behind him, startling him.
Y̶̬̬̞̥͇͎̤͔͉̲͋̿͆̚o̴̢̡̮̞̰̟̥̬̣͔̐ư̶̞͎͌̄̏͊̄̒̎̅͑ ̵̣̺̳͇̹̘̜̘̩͉̺̹̜̖̼̬̎̎͊͛͂̆̀͛̅̂̏͛̿̀͊̍̾̐̅́́̊̽̀̿̇͘͘͝͠D̷̡̟͙̞̖͖̘͙̮̪̈́̆̓͋̆͒̀͗̓͒̃̋̋̚͜͝͝ą̷̧̨̨̖̜̟̝͓̳̤̤̺̤͇͇͙͎̯͙͇̪̞̭͖̾̃͘͜ͅr̷̡͇̻̪̱̼͎͎͈̦̪̙̻̱̭̝̳̤͖̠̙͙̫̦͓̾͂̌́̈́́̒̊̈́̓̅͌̄̓́́ͅe̵̡̛̬͙̹̜͊̊̐́̃̇͘?̴͈͖̣͕̜͙̼͉̗͙͊̎̐̎̄́̆́͝
He shook and turned immediately, seeing a pair of eyes looking at him with a hint of prejudice.
"Who… are you?"
The eyes, golden in colour, didn't flinch.
It kept staring at him, or at the figure behind him.
He turned to the old man before him, the dagger in his hand pulled away by an unknown force.
It floated to Abel, who caught it in his palm.
Then the eyes dimmed, disappearing from sight.
The space around him dimmed, slowly breaking apart, and then collapsing like soap bubbles.
Abel found himself back in the real world, everything returning as it has.
Except, Ataxia's Woes was now in his hand.
The old man collapsed, his orifices bleeding as he mumbled and coughed out blood.
"Y.yy.yyyyyyyyyoooouuu!!! Just what are ...."
Then almost immediately, his eyes exploded, and a lump of flesh gushed out from his mouth. The lump began to beat incessantly, before stopping abruptly.
The old man had died in the most gruesome manner anyone, including Abel had ever seen.
He fell on his butt, his eyes widened in shock.
Bollocks, he coughed up his heart damnit
Abel couldn't believe the sight that was before him. It seared itself into his brain, a constant reminder added to his traumatic experiences folder.
The old man bled profusely, his body lifeless.
Abel looked at the blade in his hands and sighed. His eyes looked around, his attention grabbed by Michelle who was bleeding out.
Oh no! He groaned as he rushed to her side to check her injuries.
At least, he could save her.
Thankfully, the wound has missed any major veins and she was just unconscious due to the excess bleeding.
He tore a piece of cloth from his rugged suit, and tied the wound carefully.
Footsteps soon resounded from the hallway by the door, alerting Abel.
He grabbed his gun, and then tossed it away, grabbing Michelle's as he had no ammunition.
Just then, the figure of Dorothy ran in. Her eyes darted around, her mouth agape in shock…
Then she saw the corpse of the old man and then Abel, who dropped the weapon and sighed
"Abel… what the fuck happened here?" She questioned…
"I…don't know?"
***
A few hours later, at about 1am in the morning.
Abel was in a dimly lit room, sitting on an interrogation desk right before a large figure.
It was Freya, only this time she had a metal box with the symbol of the goddess and some straw ropes tied around it.
She looked Abel in the eye, trying to see any type of anomaly within him.
The eyes were the windows to the soul they said.
Abel seemed slightly perturbed, but mostly peaceful.
"You do know that if you're found to be lying in your report, no one can save you?" Freya asked with a serious face, her shoulder tensing up and her right fist tapping the table.
"Yes… I know everything I've said was the truth"
Freya nodded, opening the box to reveal what seemed to be a pair of scales, with its right side holding a pile of straw.
"You may place your hand on the left side" Freya commanded, gesturing at the left side.
Abel placed his open palm on it. Suddenly, information began to rush into his brain, but he ignored it.
"Abel Michaelson, do you follow any Orthodox or Abyssal Gods?"
"I used to be a proselyte of the Mihira in my younger days, but not anymore"
"Then it's fine…" Freya said, her eyes glowing white as she placed her hand on top of the scales.
"Abel Michaelson. Do you swear before the Goddess Mihira, that you will answer any and all questions in truth and without withholding knowledge?"
Abel gulped and then muttered
"Yes… I swear"
"Then Abel Michaelson, tell me. What happened at the Underground chamber?"