With a swift tilt of his head, Eliot avoided a lunging spear. Mana enhancement fully active, he drove a powerful kick into the abdomen of the figure—LUNGRIS! The young man spat a torrent of blood as he was shot backward, once again sailing over the railing.
'He didn't die the first time?' Eliot was genuinely shocked by Lungris's sudden, reckless reappearance. He had braced for Jenica, not... him.
"LUNGRIS!" The group surged toward the railing, looking down at their plummeting friend.
"YOU BASTARD!" Finn roared and sped toward Eliot, who braced for the next assault.
However, "Arck," a sudden, searing pain ripped through Eliot's chest. It felt as if his pulse had been amplified to a deafening volume, the speaker placed directly inside his skull. He could hear his heart pound, and with every beat, a deep, gut-wrenching pain tormented him.
[USER IN CRITICAL STATE] [USER IS ADVISED TO REVERSE THE FLOW OF MANA]
'Not good, I'm running out of time,' he thought. He could not engage in combat any longer; his body was rejecting the stress. And from the looks of it, this final stunt had pushed the group past their limit. They weren't going to let him leave alive.
He ducked under a horizontal, airborne kick from Finn—barely, as his vision was starting to blur. He then kneed the young man with vicious force right in the groin. Even Eliot flinched, imagining the pain that must follow.
'Ouch,' he thought.
"GAHHHHHHHH!" Finn roared like a cornered beast, but before Eliot could capitalize, something stabbed into his abdomen—a spear. In response, he stretched his palm forward, firing a huge spear of flame in the direction of the assailant.
BOOM!
"MY FACE!" the young man (not Lungris) shrieked in agony. Eliot took advantage of the moment, spun, and kneed the blonde-haired young man in the face.
"Arck!" Eliot coughed up blood, his body nearing its limit.
The next instant, something hard smashed into his face, flinging him all the way across the hall, where he collided with the wall.
"Fuck," he cursed, coughing up more blood before using the wall for support. "This is bad. Really bad."
He looked forward and caught sight of a glinting blade appearing right before his eyes. At the last second, he thrust a leg forward, hoping against all odds that the assailant would impale themselves. And they did.
"BLUGH!" He heard a cry of pain, but the blade still shattered his mask and stabbed slightly into his forehead, blood gushing out.
'I have... to get out of here,' he manifested a healing potion from his ring, but before he could drink it, he let out another "ARCK!" Something went straight into his abdomen.
His vision finally cleared, revealing Jenica with a cold, resolute look.
"You forced my hand. It didn't have to be this way," she said, forcing the sword deeper.
Eliot clenched his free fist. "You were planning to use me to conquer the Mystic World, right? Too bad."
Before she could fully understand what he meant, he grabbed her wrist and, with his free hand, punched the living daylight out of her pretty face.
BAM!
She collided with the ground so hard a web-like crevice appeared, and the floor itself vibrated.
[MISSION ACCOMPLISHED] [USER HAS LEVELED UP] [SYSTEM IS NOW ACTIVE]
Yes, there was a mission, one that had appeared the moment he saw Jenica's group.
[Mission Generated]
[Mission]
Objective: Defeat Jenica
Reward: 100 Exp
At first, he decided not to do it; the system offered no penalty for failure. For it to award something "so easy" meant it was confident he would have a hard time accomplishing it, if he could even do it at all.
However, as the conversation between Jenica and her group progressed, he realized staying with the group would not be beneficial. That was why he pulled that stunt, letting himself get angry. He used Melissa's words as an excuse to think about the torment he went through at Annabelle's hands and how much 'pain' it cost him to lose his 'cherished' face (though he did value it). His brain responded as expected, inducing genuine, blinding anger.
His plan was to create conflict among the group, so when the perfect opportunity arose, he would land a massive blow on Jenica with every bit of mana he had, to one-shot her. What he didn't expect was his anger completely blinding his rationality and making him deviate from the original plan, or the fact that he would grow even stronger than he originally was. This was a major miscalculation on his part, destroying his plans until the only option was to escape while he could think properly and his body was under control.
But another variable showed up: Lungris, unexpected as well...
All that was secondary. The only thing that mattered now was that the opportunity had presented itself. Jenica had been within striking distance. With her, he had leveled up, and now with the system active, he could grow stronger.
"I think that's enough," he heard.
He realized there was still one person left. "Oh no,"
A girl knelt before Jenica and stretched out her hand, a green glow flowing from her palm and into the unconscious leader.
"Healing," he realized.
The girl then stood up, Jenica's sword now in her hand.
"I didn't want to do it this way, but you leave me no choice," she said, and stabbed the sword straight into his chest.
"Arck," his eyes widened as the girl pressed harder.
She then touched his face. "Such a pretty face," was all he heard before darkness claimed him whole.
Suddenly, he felt something cold slither into him.
Then a voice, static turning more humanoid, reached him, though that in itself seemed to be fading away.
[EXTERNAL INFLUENCE DETECTED ON USER]
[DANGER]
[AN ENTITY HAS SIPHONED A CONSIDERABLE PORTION OF USER'S ESSENCE]
[TAKING EMERGENCY ACTION]
[USER IN CRITICAL CONDITION]
[ENTITY HAS BEEN BLOCKED OUT; HOWEVER, ENTITY STILL HOLDS USER'S ESSENCE]
[INITIATING SLAVE SEAL]
It was the last thing he heard before he blanked out completely.
... .. .
"Wake up," Eliot heard. His eyes slowly opened to the void beyond.
"Haah... Where am I?" he whispered, feeling a weightlessness, as though he was in a vacuum.
"The world of the Aether Stream, but you can see it as a realm that exists within your subconscious," he heard.
He frowned, confused about who exactly was speaking. "Who are you?" he asked. "And why can't I see anything?"
"Oh, my bad... let's fix that," the voice replied.
The next instant, the whole scenery morphed from the void it was to... "An Island?" he muttered.
He was now standing on grassy land, an ocean a distance from him, so vast he couldn't see its end. The water was a stunning, deep blue. Above was a golden sky, which seemed to serve as the sun. There were no trees, only the endless landscape beyond.
"Is this better? If it isn't, we can try a house," he heard.
He quickly turned to find a young man seated in a deck chair—the kind you'd find on a beach—wearing shorts and glasses, and holding a glass cup with a lemon wedge. The glass was filled with some sort of liquid, perhaps juice?
"...Though, I prefer this," the young man finished, taking a sip.
"What are you?" Eliot asked, a complicated expression on his face.
Staring right back at him was something impossible.
It was his face from his previous life.
"You...?"
The young man grinned. "Sit," he added. Another deck chair appeared beside him. "We have much to talk about."