Reflections on the Warpath - [An Isekai Progression Fantasy]

Kill. Destroy. Fight. Devour.

Kill.

I raise my fists. Ezekiel steps forward. I run towards him.

Electricity courses through my veins, ignites my muscles, empowers my entire body. The essence of fighting fans the fire within me. I lust for the slaughter of those who stand across from me, those who dare challenge me.

Ezekiel raises his sword. I keep running. He swings it at my chest. I keep running. The lashing blade whips into my left arm, slapping against the clockwork bracer before its tip curls around the armoured segments.

I keep running.

It slices into my flesh.

I don't care.

I close the distance. Two steps away now. Ezekiel tries to retreat. I don't let him. I shoot forward and catch his leg, sinking my nails into his flesh and pulling myself closer.

They rip open his skin. Blood coats my grasping left hand as I flail my right fist forward. I feel my fingers clutch at his tendons, seconds away from pulling them apart.

I love it.

Ezekiel can't retreat anymore. We're chained together now. My right sails closer. It slices through the air, tendrils of electricity trailing the outstretched blade of my Conqueror's fist. My steel knuckles pound into Ezekiel's abdomen, his flesh spasms as my invading electrical army wreaks havoc from within his cell walls.

His sword is smaller now. He swings it towards my neck. I hear a voice pleading at me to dodge but I ignore it. I don't want to retreat. I want to kill.

A flash of blue descends from above me, intercepting Ezekiel's swing. It's a flying shield. It stays by my side but I pay it no more attention.

I have an enemy to kill.

I release Ezekiel's calf, flinging it across his body and forcing him to turn his back. My bloodthirsty fists yearn for another chance to kill but my legs scream louder. I swing my right leg forward. My muscles bulge with pent up power, tearing my trousers at their seams. Beneath the fabric I watch my arteries pulse with crimson light, amplifying my power.

My shin smashes into Ezekiel's right thigh, spinning him to face me again. He tries to stand on his injured leg. It buckles beneath him and he collapses to the ground.

He stares up at me in abject horror.

I lord over the swordsman, relishing in my imminent victory. The same voice begs me to retreat once more.

I don't listen.

I begin to step forward.

The voice screams.

I push through it.

The blue shield smacks into my abdomen, lifting me into the air before shoving me aside.

I pound my fists into it mid-flight.

PING!

The sound bounces throughout the clearing.

I tear the shield away from me but the sound lingers in my ears. It refuses to leave. I spend a moment listening before looking back at Ezekiel. Three bloodied figures now stand over him, each held up by arcane red strings.

I recognise the corpses, Ezekiel's former allies.

If the shield hadn't pushed me away, they might ha-

No.

Shut up.

Fight. Kill. Destroy.

I silence the analytical voice inside my head, what does he know about fighting?

The shield flies in front of me, facing me instead of my enemies. I shove it out of my sight. It stays by my side, the voice says it wants to protect me.

The manipulator, Amaya, walks to Ezekiel's side. She opens her mouth but I don't hear her words. Ezekiel limps upright and looks towards me as a flash of electricity streaks down his sword.

I run forward again. The dead puppets scatter yet I pay them no mind, they cannot stop me.

Blue light pools inside Ezekiel's eyes, they flicker between my head, arms and feet. I don't understand what he's doing but the voice inside my mind tells me it's dangerous. He isn't screaming anymore but I tell him to shut up anyway.

Ezekiel thrusts his sword forward. I slip to the side. The blade slices through my thigh but I keep running. I'm within range now. I try to dive forward again but an iron grip clamps around my ankle. Ezekiel backpedals. He lashes out at me while retreating, slicing open a gash from my shoulder to my neck.

I spin around, jerking my foot free. The corpse that grabbed it barely held on for a second. It stares me down with eight arms, each wielding a curved blade.

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The voice tells me that they're fake, that he knows which arms are real. I don't trust him. I snatch at the corpse's neck, crushing its stagnant windpipe with my grip. I pull the many-armed man forward by the throat and pound my steel knuckles into his skull. The savage crunch fills me with joy. Six of the corpse's arms vanish while the final two fall limply to his side.

I look down. One of his swords now poked out of my gut.

I release the corpse's throat and yank the blade out. The voice screams that I'll bleed out, but what does he know about blood?

He says he knows my body more than anything in the world.

If he knows it that well, then why am I in control?

Crystal shards clog the air around me. I breathe in. They shred the back of my throat, clawing down to my lungs.

To my side, the blue shield knocks a crystalline javelin into the dirt before deflecting another into the sky. A fourth jets past her but I swing the curved sword and cleave it in two before it can hit me.

I try to step forward but I slip on the sheet of blood pooling at my feet. More blood spills out from my wounded stomach.

My left hand drops the sword and clamps to my gut, applying pressure to the wound. A pale blue glow radiates from hairline channels along my forearm and from deep within my stomach.

It's the voice's doing. He implores me to trust him.

Fine.

A booming crunch bursts from the forest. I ignore it, but Ezekiel stops and stares west for a heartbeat before looking back at me, afraid. He runs towards me, slower than before, I can make out each of his muscle fibres twitch with every step. My eyes flick over his shoulder at Amaya. The analytical voice tells me to target her instead. I tell him to shut up and know his place.

He keeps my hand pressed against my stomach and stays quiet.

I ignore the blood spilling from the gash in my thigh and press forward. Ezekiel expects me to blindly charge towards him but I'm not stupid.

I charge in anyway.

He swings his sword at my injured leg. If I sacrifice it and let him land, I know I can kill him. I'll be in range before he can react again.

I don't need four limbs to kill him.

I barely need one.

I laugh as Ezekiel's blade draws closer. The analytical voice begs me to dodge the attack. I revel in his despair. Ezekiel's glowing, blue eyes widen.

He knows he's about to die.

PING!

The shield deflects the sword upwards, accelerating it towards my neck.

If it lands it will kill me.

I dive away from the sword, releasing Ezekiel from the jaws of death. I pound my fists into the dirt. I thought the shield wanted to protect me, why did it stop me?

The two puppet corpses rush to Ezekiel's side and the analytical voice whispers doubts in the back of my mind. He says they would have killed me if I had attacked Ezekiel.

I don't want to, but I believe him.

The puppets are dangerous, I should kill the one who controls them.

I ignore Ezekiel and sprint towards Amaya. The analytical voice screams every time my injured leg pounds into the ground. He needs to stop whining.

Another snap of creaking wood tears through the clearing. It distracts Amaya but I keep running. By the time she turns back to me I'm already too close.

I dive at her chest and tackle her to the ground.

She can't defend against me. She's too weak.

We fall to the ground. The analytical voice screams as I rip my left arm from my guts and wrap it around Amaya's neck. The gash on my stomach opens wider, I feel the blood leaking out but I don't care. I'm so close now.

I raise my right fist in the air. The voice begs me to stop but I can't. I won't.

I smash my fist into her jaw. It shatters instantly. I raise my arm again.

Thud.

The air escapes my lungs. I look down. A quicksilver lance snakes through my chest, piercing through my ribcage across from the Berserker's Bite. My entire body spasms, electricity ripping through every cell.

A boot slams into the base of my skull, knocking me off Ezekiel's blade. I ragdoll onto the grass beside the unconscious Amaya, my body flips over as I fall.

Ezekiel looms over me, eyes staring down in horror at us both. He holds the shield underneath one arm. She's fighting his grip, and he grits his teeth while trying to hold her still.

BOOM!

Ezekiel jerks his head upwards as the shield flies out of his hands.

He jumps on Amaya instantly.

The ground trembles, lifting me into the air for a split second. The shield flies by my head.

The ground shakes again, stronger this time.

Splinters of earth pepper my face. I feel the soil vibrate beneath me, hear it tear apart like something's burrowing up from below. I try to reach Ezekiel and Amaya but my body refuses to move.

A seismic roar pounds my ears, instantly replaced by a needling squeal as my eardrums rupture. Viscous blood floods my ear canal, drowning even that out.

A spike digs into my shoulder blade, ripping me from the dirt and hurling me forward. My body ragdolls through the air. I flip over, finally able to see what flung me off the ground.

The analytical voice seizes control. Reality slows to a crawl. A beast—the voice called it a Three Legger—swings its front limbs upwards, tearing up loose soil. Beside me, Ezekiel wraps his arms around Amaya as they hurtle towards the forest, contorting his body to shield her from a future impact.

THUD!

My spine cracks against the base of a tree. Blood spurts out from my wounds. The base of my skull clatters into the bark. I can't hear my head slam backwards, but I feel a new wound open as blood dribbles down my neck.

The entire world multiplies. A crowd of Three Leggers roar simultaneously in front of me, I squint at the middle, trying to pull them back together.

The dinosaur flicks its head sideways. I follow it. Beside me, Ezekiel heaves Amaya onto his shoulders, tossing his sword aside.

Electricity arcs from his legs, empowering them. They burn brilliant white with electric radiance.

He sprints towards the exit hub.

The Three Legger sprints after him.

I sit almost paralysed, bleeding out as my enemy flees. Unable to follow, unable to attack and barely able to recognise my opponent through my blurred triple vision.

I'm helpless, and I hate it.

Ezekiel powers forward. His electrically empowered legs pound the dirt at his feet. He storms ever closer to the exit. The Three Legger has no chance of catching him.

I want to chase after him. I want to kill him, destroy him, tear his body apart and defile what's left.

I can't.

Overcome by failure, I weep.

I weep and I wail, yet my broken ears can't even hear my cries. They bleed throughout the jungle. I try to strangle the howling outpour of shame but I can't. I only hope nobody hears them, nobody sees my pathetic end, nobody remembers my failure.

Ping flies into my lap. I smile. The voice whispers inside my mind.

Pull it out.

I didn't like the analytical voice before, but he only helped me during the fight.

Maybe I should listen to him?

Pull it out.

I wrap my left hand around the dagger's hilt. The ruby embedded in its pommel unleashes a surge of crimson light. The urge to stand up and murder Ezekiel overcomes me and I loosen my grip on the blade.

I look up.

Ezekiel barrels through the door.

I failed.

Pull it out.

If I can't even kill my enemies, do I even deserve to live?

I expect the voice to scream in rage, instead he simply tells me to pull the dagger out.

Fine.

I'll do it.

My fingers clasp around the dagger.

Another sanguine glow pulses from the crystal. I break its infernal grip on my heart. My blood curdles as I tear the dagger from my body, it clings to the blade like tar and pulls it back. I pull harder.

I yank the dagger free and toss it aside.

This is my fight. I will not let it control me.