I walked silently to my room.
Sitting on the bed, I glanced up at the ceiling, then silently... whispered through my teeth.
’Greta...’
Initially, when I’d transmigrated to this world...
My thoughts paused there as I quickly bent low and rummaged through the drawer ahead.
WYATT. ZOROS. GRETA. AZATOTH. GREAM
Reading through the words my predecessor had written, I couldn’t help drawing a sharp breath.
It was still the sa words as before...
My eyes landed on ’Greta...’
One of the entities who had taken part in cursing him.
I glanced down at my arm, where the eye still stared back at like a curse.
Despite all the increase to my strength, along with everything else, it remained ever present.
’To think it’s from such a high-ranked cursed gate...’
The thought that my predecessor could co in contact with an entity on that level was enough to shake to my core.
Even so, I kept my calm.
’I can still handle it... for now, father and the others can deal with everything.’
I truly believed it wouldn’t be long before I gained enough strength to eliminate them and drive away the curse.
With that in mind, I stood up and paced around slightly, then closed my eyes.
Gradually... my eyes turned blood red, the Hades’ Eyes activating as my whole room slipped into an illusion domain.
The bed, cupboard, wardrobe, and everything else turned into wisps of smoke and dissolved.
Then, silently, silhouettes began appearing.
So wielded spears, others axes. So were fully clad, while others flickered in and out of existence with lightning crawling across them. A wave of spatial distortion wrapped around their forms.
By simulating my sister’s strength and multiplying it many tis over, I’d created clones of what I believed to be ’cursed expert’ level fighters.
I wanted to explore my strength without relying on the illusion eyes.
After all, I knew it wasn’t omnipotent, no matter how far I’d pushed it so far.
A sword coalesced in my grasp as I ordered the shadows to begin attacking.
Instantly, all sorts of attacks rained down on .
It was all within my control, so it stayed within an acceptable range.
Storms, lightning, distortions of space and everything else ca crashing toward .
Calmly, a blur of shadow and motion appeared.
Calmly, a blur of shadow and motion appeared.
I stepped forward instead of retreating, letting the storm I had created close in around .
A spear drove toward my throat, fast enough to blur. I watched it co, then shifted its angle just enough that it slipped past my neck, grazing the air beside . At the sa ti, the axe behind it descended with crushing weight. I didn’t avoid it imdiately. I let it fall, waited until the last possible mont, then moved.
The timing was off.
Not mine.
Theirs.
I adjusted it.
The next exchange flowed smoother.
Steel t steel for a brief instant before my blade slipped through a gap that hadn’t existed a mont ago. One silhouette collapsed, but the others closed in without pause, their movents already changing, adapting under my control.
Faster.
Closer.
More precise.
A flicker of lightning arced toward my side. I let it co, studying the rhythm behind it, then stepped through the strike as if it had always been ant to miss.
Still not enough.
A quiet breath left my lips.
"Dragon Fla... Cursed Art."
The words were little more than a murmur, yet the response was imdiate.
A dark crimson fla gathered along the edge of my sword, not wild or explosive, but tightly coiled, like sothing restrained. The heat didn’t spread into the room. It remained contained, pressed into the blade until even the air around it began to distort.
I moved.
The swing was simple.
The result wasn’t.
The silhouette in front of didn’t break apart or get pushed back. The fla passed through it in silence, and for a brief mont, nothing happened.
Then its body split cleanly, the edges blackened as if the fire had burned through sothing deeper than form.
I didn’t stop to look.
The domain shifted again under my will, feeding the remaining silhouettes sharper reactions. One of them mirrored my stance almost perfectly, its blade rising in sync with mine, its timing just a fraction behind.
I corrected that too.
Now it matched .
Good.
I stepped in, and our blades t.
For a brief instant, the exchange felt... balanced.
Then I broke it.
"Illusory Blade... Cursed Art."
The sword in my hand didn’t change, not in any obvious way. Yet when I moved, the strike didn’t co alone.
There was a second edge.
A third.
Not separate, not real in the usual sense, but layered over the original motion so seamlessly that even I could feel the difference.
The silhouette tried to parry.
It blocked one strike.
The others passed through.
It froze for a mont, as if unsure what had happened, before its body ca apart along several clean lines.
I exhaled slowly, the faint pressure building behind my eyes ignored.
So it worked.
Not imitation.
Not mory.
Construction.
The realization settled quietly, without excitent.
If Dragon Fla could be shaped—
Then there was no reason to stop there.
The next wave ca imdiately, faster than before, their attacks overlapping in a way that left almost no space to move.
I didn’t step back.
"Void Step... Cursed Art."
The ground beneath seed to thin, and the distance between one step and the next simply... ceased to matter.
I moved forward.
And arrived.
One mont I stood outside their range.
The next, I was already inside it.
My blade passed through one, then another, the motion smooth, uninterrupted, as if the space between them had never existed to begin with.
The remaining silhouettes adjusted again, their patterns tightening, their reactions sharpening under my control.
I let them.
Watched them.
Then shifted slightly, just enough to throw their footing off by a fraction.
"Gravebind... Cursed Art."
The shadows beneath them stirred, subtle but precise, dragging at their movent at the exact mont they committed to their strikes.
It was enough.
It was always enough.
My sword moved once.
Then again.
By the ti the motion ended, nothing remained in front of .
The domain grew quiet.
I stood there for a mont, steady, breathing even, the faint glow in my eyes dimming slightly as the pressure eased.
There was no need to rush.
No need to force anything further.
I already understood.
Cursed arts weren’t sothing I had to learn.
They were sothing I could define.
As long as I could see it clearly enough...
As long as I could shape it without hesitation...
Then the result would follow.
The space around stirred once more as new silhouettes began to form, denser than before, their presence closer to sothing real.
I raised my sword slightly.
And stepped forward again.
The blur of sword and motion continued ringing out incessantly.
My illusions and I clashed against each other countless tis, neither side gaining the upper hand.
As soon as I got even a little better than the clones, I created more to maintain the pressure.
At this point, all sorts of cursed arts had been displayed.
Ones I didn’t know even existed in this world, and ones I figured already did.
The battle soon beca overwhelming, and before I could realize it...
Shink!
A sword pierced through my arm.
At this mont, more than a hundred clones encircled .
More than twenty were within inches of . Their postures were taut and precise, positioned so they weren’t clustered or getting in each other’s way.
My control had been so exact that I’d accidentally created a monster... and that monster was now trying to kill .
Six blades curved upward, targeting my head as my weakness.
Six more aid at my lower body, ensuring I stayed in place even if I blocked.
At the sa ti, four thrust straight for my head, and four more ca for my back.
From a few ters away, cursed arts blood into motion, all aid at claiming my life.
The air burned red, streaked with pale blue light.
Naturally, I had input the thought that every one of them was disposable, so they took advantage of that to bury under the assault from the front attackers.
Good...
This was exactly the pressure I wanted.
It reminded I wasn’t invincible. Not yet.
My hand moved in rapid succession.
Illusory sword art.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
My blade flashed, cleaving away every attack aid at .
I was striking multiple tis within a breath, my movents pushing to their limit.
And with my cursed nebula physique, I adapted to every motion almost instantly.
I laughed wildly.
’Bring it on!’
Clang! Clang! Clang!
At this point, our movents were barely visible as we clashed again and again.
Gradually, a shadowy blur ford, and in an instant, more than fifty clones were severed.
Swoosh! They dispersed, only to reform in double the number.
The battle raged on until a soft knock at the door broke through the noise.
Author’s note: One Chapter today, three tomorrow. I have a serious exam, so I need to read, sorry. I tried to make it long enough. Also, it’s finally ti for the mother and son duo to be intimate!
User Comments
0 comments from readers