Re:Cursed

Nyxil immediately disregarded the acolyte behind her. Whatever he'd done to sneak behind her, it had taken so much out of him that he now lay unconscious. She didn't know how he'd gotten there, but it wasn't something she should worry about right now.

The seven Scriptures before her were far more pressing.

Amongst those around Grifvoi, only he was at the second evolution. Barely even threats. Well, not threats when she had access to her mutations, but she could hardly beat her wings to close the distance and snap her claws around their necks as she had done to so many unprepared Fleshsmiths.

One on one, she wouldn't be worried about them, but each held parchment containing any of a thousand rituals. After working with Mavi for the past day, she had a fairly good idea of what to expect, but she'd never fought a Scripture before, so she wasn't unconditionally confident.

Not to mention Grifvoi standing behind the approaching acolytes.

Nyxil never took an eye from him. Even as she considered each of her attackers, her focus remained on her old ward-mate. His evolution level was only the beginning of her concerns. As the Scriptures representative, there was no knowing what sort of resources they'd thrown into his growth. She of all people knew a person's evolution rank hardly represented their capability to kill.

Grifvoi didn't approach with the rest of the Scriptures. He stood with crossed arms and an expectant glare.

The arrogance, Nyxil thought. He thinks he's too good to fight.

Her eyes narrowed. If she hadn't intended to crush him before, Nyxil absolutely did now. Still, she wasn't so confident in facing all six in addition to Grifvoi if he turned out to be hardier than he looked. She would have to make good use of Lyotep.

They brought this on themselves.

The moment one of the Scriptures began a hymn, Nyxil sprung forth, unsheathed her sword and sliced through the ritual parchment in a single motion. She spun and when her second heartbeat pounded through her chest, Thaaren demanded she throw her blade. The rapier swung through the air, cleaving a second scroll along with a thumb before the base struck wall and rebounded.

Nyxil barely caught it after its almost perfect bounce. Having simply trusted her Talent without understanding what it intended, she'd tried to race after the weapon, and brought herself away from the return trajectory. The error disrupted her flow. The strength of synchronised rhythm slipped from her body, and it was enough for the Scriptures to adjust for her speed.

So much for evening the playing field.

Each Scripture scattered. Realising how quickly she'd targeted their rituals, the four who still held a scroll slapped it around their forearms, the paper binding to skin, leaving their hands free. The first she'd attacked tossed the worthless paper… and simply brought out another scroll, starting the hymn again.

Too bad it wasn't the explodey sort of ritual destabilisation.

Only the one with a severed thumb seemed unsettled by Nyxil's attack. She had run off to the stone wall to pick up her digit, completely losing focus on the fight. Nyxil gave her credit for not screaming.

"Jose̪e, forget your finger and get back in formation," one of the boys snapped once his hymn finished. A fluid leaked from his wrist. He flicked his arm, and a purple stream whipped across Nyxil's face.

Her arm came up to block, but some of the liquid still got through. She checked her chitin and found the substance drying quickly. No strange effects manifested. Poison? He had aimed for her face.

"Right," Josee said, tossing the thumb into a satchel before wrapping a bandage twice around her hand. The runes in the bandage glowed immediately, sucking up all lost blood and crystallised it in a hard gem at her wrist. A single BD. The wound didn't bother her. She got right back into another hymn with a different scroll.

Nyxil rushed the poison leaker, her blade ready to cleave through his arm, but before she could swing, a creature halfway between a slug and a tongue struck her blade from the side. It wrapped around her rapier and softened the cutting strike just enough that the boy slipped out with a graze along his wrist.

One after another, the Scripture acolytes finished their rituals and moved onto another before Nyxil could even fully account for the new weapons they summoned for themselves. Some summoned creatures, while the rest brought about weaponised effects. Josee materialised a large shell around her shoulder while a creature's long neck stretched along her arm before covering her hand with a maw that snapped loud enough to compete with Nyxil's claws. It was probably dangerous, but to Nyxil, it looked heavy. Slow.

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Another slug was tossed her way. She sliced it out of mid-air, bisecting the tongue creature. A stream of purple liquid was only an instant behind, trying to catch her off guard, but her neck snapped to the side in a way that absolutely wouldn't be healthy if not for Ossuul. Taking the opportunity, she stepped in to strike, but a small floating fungal balloon slipped under her guard and exploded, burying a dozen small thorns in her side.

Nyxil disengaged to restructure her breath. Her rhythm was off. Apparently that threw off her mind as well. Even if these six were only first evolution, it was clear they'd gone through extensive training with the Scriptures. Their teamwork was flawless. Yet… they were first evolution. They simply didn't hit hard, even with all the resources gifted to them.

After this fight, Nyxil would need to see just how badly a disruption to her rhythm could impact her performance, and fix it. Stumbling through the fight as she had — falling into the enemy's flow — would have killed her back in the Dark Star. This couldn't happen again.

Her heart slowed until it matched her breathing. The dull rate would impact her reaction speed, but against these six, it wouldn't matter. None of them were fast enough. It was not an optimal way to fight, but right now she needed a solid foundation for her rhythm. She needed calm.

Now fully in control of her mind, Nyxil stepped forward. A stream of liquid exploded through the air, flowing as if the flick of his hand was high-pressure jet. Nyxil slipped around it casually. A slug rocketed towards her face. She simply tapped it aside. The floating fungal balloons released by another acolyte were much more Nyxil's speed. She raised her blade and popped each of them, always keeping her blade and chitinous hand between the thorns and any soft, susceptible parts of herself.

Josee stepped forward, her shell covered shoulder raised like a shield to protect her from any rapier strike Nyxil might throw. It seemed like an instant before the distance between them had closed, and the snapping jaw came for Nyxil's throat. There was that sensation again, and her body flexed out of odd turtle's beak with flexibility beyond natural.

Nyxil stepped inside Josee's guard, and drove her sword through the girl's heart.

As the girl's life left her eyes and slipped from the end of Nyxil's blade, Nyxil pondered the extent of Ossuul. The name let her slightly bend reality to flex her body in ways it shouldn't. Despite the effect being small, it was an incredibly powerful name. One she was surprised she'd not given the time to explore. Sure, the body boosting N̚oth was her strongest additive and had plenty to explore, but Ossuul had great potential.

Nyxil turned and pondered who should be her next target. She lowered her head below another blasting stream.

Looks like I have my volunteer.

Once again, Nyxil made her leisurely way through the formation of young Scriptures. Each passing instant, they threw more attempts at her. No matter what they tried, whether it be a direct strike, or an effort to change her target and lead her in circles, nothing worked. She danced around their attempts as if they were nothing more than toddlers playing with toys.

This was how her rhythm should be.

Matching her heart-rate to her already slow breathing was dangerous as it sacrificed her ability to react to unexpected strikes, but it more than made up for that in the intense, uninterruptible focus it gave her. She barely had to look at these harbinger hopefuls to predict when and how they would attack.

The only things that concerned her, and would make her leave this state, were those second round of rituals they were still in mid hymn, and Grifvoi. Something that would come very soon, if his burning glare was anything to go off.

Nyxil wasn't moving near as fast as she usually would, yet she still cornered the poison flinger up against the wall. His team's formation was in shambled. Each time Nyxil had avoided their attempts — making it seem easier each time as she practised the use of Ossuul — their movements became more desperate. Despite their training, they were still inexperienced. A mistake came soon enough. She slipped to the side, avoiding a slug, which struck the cornered boy in the face. Nyxil stepped in and severed the boy's arm, before doing the same with his head.

"Enough." Grifvoi's voice rang through her, immediately triggering her heart to race to something far more fitting a battle of unknowns. "She's that slow, and you still can't hit her?"

Grifvoi stepped forward, his crown rune flashing first before those crawling up his arms did the same. His hymn sounded more like a growl than anything with lyrics, yet it worked well enough. A ripple of mist rolled around him, before gleaming white bone slipped from obscurement and clung to his skin. An armour of bone encased him, roiling with barely contained power.

A wicked halberd of bone with vicious fangs growing from the back of its sharp blade fell into his hands. He spun it before striking the butt of the weapon into the stone ground, cracking it. He had a lot more strength than any of those he surrounded himself with.

That was not something he could have sourced himself. Whether it was a summoned piece, or something crafted, it was obviously a gift from someone very influential in the Scriptures.

Nyxil readied herself, this time letting her heart fall into a harmony of eight beats per breath. She noticed the two she'd killed. There hadn't been a moment of hesitance, or even consideration to whether it would be better to just injure them instead. In her intense focus, it was the natural thing to do.

She stared at the teen bodies for a moment longer. Later, she would need to give proper consideration to who exactly was exempt from her revenge. Sure, the cults had to die, but where did she place the cut-off for those engaging in cult practices, and the acolytes that were being indoctrinated?

Readying her blade to fight the Scripture's golden boy, Nyxil suddenly noticed a sting in her arm and leg. She didn't glance down, but a smile did break across her face.

She was getting no better confirmation that her Feat could regenerate limbs. Grifvoi was about to get quite the surprise.