He didn’t like his odds or what he was facing at the mont. Still, Damon was not about to back out, especially since winning was within the realm of possibility.
[Magic bullet]
He was in the body of the Mirror Seraph, its attribute was mirror, so his magic bullets appeared as silver, marble-sized projectiles.
The arms that made up the body of the creature... the one that called itself The Murder-That-Wasn’t were impaled with mirror fragnts.
Blood pooled from the hundreds of arms that ford its grotesque body.
Damon raised his arm and locked the mana around him into a single large sword made of mirror.
Soft cracking sounds echoed as it began to crystallize, growing larger until the sword was complete.
[Magic Arsenal.]
The sword sped through the air with a boom as it rocketed through the shelves and passed right through the body of the creature.
It froze for a mont as the body parts that ford it were ripped and lacerated by the sword.
Screeeechhh.
It made a deafening screech as it rolled into the library shelves.
He missed.
Then, slowly, its body began to grow more arms, healing itself.
Damon watched with a calm expression that barely hid his disgust.
"Figured it wouldn’t be that easy."
He sighed as he took out the broken sword that was his dealer’s hand. It felt cold as it glinted with sharp nace.
There was a faint hum as he held the half-broken weapon.
Damon didn’t wait for it to charge. He rushed toward it, sword in hand.
He slashed down as a crescent of sword energy cut through the creature, blood pooling from one of the arms as it was sliced clean through.
A hand reached to grab Damon as he flipped midair, switched his blade to the other hand, and stabbed forward.
Jumping up, he kicked off a bookshelf, slashing at the top of the unusual entity.
Blood splashed down.
Damon raised his hand as he slashed faster and faster, ripping through its body of human arms.
This body was faster and stronger than even his own.
The only difference was that he didn’t have as many skills as Damon—
and even though the Mirror Seraph had quite a few, most were sealed.
And Damon was still not familiar with how to fight effectively in this form.
The actual issue ca from the fact that this body was suppressed by the world and heavily injured.
Screech...
The deep screech of the creature echoed through the library.
In the halls of this massive archive, Damon heard the sound of different creatures answering the call.
Damon raised his sword.
He would end it with the next move...
The second technique of the Brightwater sword Technique.
Damon took the proper stance, ready to strike, when—
The creature spoke once more.
"... Sinner... murder... punishnt."
When those words echoed out, Damon felt the world slow down.
He blinked as an eerie sensation crawled over his body...
Stopping, he glanced down to find his form torn apart. Deep sword gashes ran across him as mirror dust fell from his glass body.
"Ahhh..." he gasped as he bled liquid mirror from his mouth and nose.
Cough cough...
What an insidious creature.
These wounds were all the attacks he had dealt to it—
all the damage it had taken was now being returned to Damon.
"Ah... rgg... hehehehe..." Damon laughed, looking at the state of his body.
Truly, this was a prison where the worst of the worst were kept. One small mistake could lead to death.
He collapsed to his knees as one of his arms fell off, turning into a reflective surface.
He picked it up, listening to the sounds of more creatures approaching.
They had to have a weakness. Otherwise it was simply too dangerous.
There had to be a way to overco their counterattack.
He glanced at the mirror fragnts that had once been part of his body, holding them tightly.
Damon thought, even as his body reeled in pain. He analyzed the entire fight, and Damon realized the problem.
He smiled.
"Right before you said your na, you set this countertrap up... and I fell for it."
Damon wasn’t fazed. This wasn’t the first ti he’d run into an unusual creature and faced powers he didn’t understand.
"The chain of words you spoke... sin, murder, punishnt. You spoke them first in sets of threes, then gave your na. Afterward you repeated them to finalize the attack only after I had damaged you enough."
Damon was familiar with this type of magic. After all, this was black magic.
He had just been cursed.
It was quite a dangerous magic.
However, just because he understood the theory didn’t an he could stop its use.
It was the sa principle as when he fought his classmates in the past knowing their magic didn’t change anything.
Just like how a blacksmith could know everything about making a sword,
and still be chopped down by a knight.
Damon watched as the creature called for more.
All around him, from the tops of the shelves and the deep corners of the library, more of them began to crawl out.
The sound of their movent, hundreds of stepping hands, was unnerving.
Still, Damon remained calm, holding the mirror fragnt that had been his arm.
Slowly, he began crushing it until it shattered into many glittering pieces.
"Well played... but I doubt this is the last you’ll see of ."
He raised his hand and threw all the mirror fragnts into the air, high above the shelves, letting tens of shards scatter throughout the library.
He smiled wickedly, looking at one of the fragnts lying right beneath the creature’s body.
With a wave of his hand, he was absorbed into the mirror fragnts and in that sa instant, he appeared from the shard in front of the initial creature, plunging his blade forward as he scread.
"Magic Arsenal!"
Hundreds of mirror swords lacerated and ripped it to pieces.
Damon sank back into the mirror fragnt and vanished as its death screech echoed through the library.
Sowhere farther away, where one of the fragnts had fallen, he erged through it and collapsed, a thin smile on his face.
"That was a close call... but I got even with it."
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