The Legendary Fool

This was it.

He was out of time.

Tom held the six onyx crystals in the palm of his hand, the last of what he’d managed to snatch before the [Nether Devil’s] corpses began to sink into the ground, along with the last of the unclaimed loot.

Hurriedly, with a slightly trembling right hand, he slotted the [Corrupted Gem] into the circular slit carved onto the stygian’s blade’s hilt. Tom watched with marvel as the blade thrummed to life, thin arcs of a blackish-violet energy coursing through the blade and consequentially, through his sword arm.

[Rend Charges: 100/100]

Summoning his [Inventory], he tossed the rest of the [Corrupted Gems] inside while picking up his cards from the floor.

[All Sectors of the Zelez Dungeon shall be resetting in 30 seconds. Please prepare yourself].

Tom took a deep breath.

“Rend,” he spoke aloud, his words imbued with his will. The arcing, lightning like bolts thickened, until they formed a wall of deep violet plasma-like energy, one gaze at it enough to tell Tom that it was sharp. No points were draining for maintaining the energy ensconsing his sword, but then again he supposed that most people wouldn’t be willing to use a sword that mentally influenced them—- it would probably, instead, drain points when he cut through something.

Using [Active Shroud: Maya] had come at a steep, steep cost, but Tom had simply been left with no other option.

From the moment, from the very inception of his first step onto this world, one that Zenakris and the bearded old man referred to Artezia, Tom had been pushed to his limits. He had been broken, reforged, broken again. The past week had been driven by desperation atop desperation, to the point he had often founding himself questioning if there was value in continuing.

Why struggle? What was he living for in this foreign, unfamiliar land?

Maya had not just given him insight into Zenakris’ life. It had also given him an opportunity to view himself through another paradigm, to see his own faults and accomplishments truly from the lens of another.

[15….14….13….]

He watched the clock tick down, before taking a glance at [The Flame] card held in his left hand. The first card he’d acquired through his own efforts after stepping in Artezia.

That was why.

Tom had triumphed where he thought he would have broken.

[10….9….8….]

Tom closed his eyes.

The last week’s struggles flashed through his mind, like a kaleidoscope of a thousand pictures, continually shifting, flitting by too fast for him to register each individual moment but being able to appreciate the value they held as a whole.

The Dungeon entrance was near. Another ten, maybe fifteen minutes away.

Now, he just had to put everything he’d learnt into practise.

His eyes shot open.

[5….4….3…]

His sword would be the extension of his arm. A natural, unbroken connection. His footwork would carry the grace of a dancer. His wrists, the elegance of a master conductor.

He would become one with the wind, flowing past all that stood in his path with a fluidity that surpassed the realm of humanity.

After all, with his stats improved, he was human no more.

He had to stop thinking like one.

The Dungeon Reset was so fast that Tom could barely even perceive what happened. One moment, the winding tunnel was empty, devoid of the slightest signs of life. The next, he was staring down a pathway not quite teeming, but still intimidatingly full of [Nether Devils], almost completely ensconsing him in the center.

His gaze involuntarily fell upon the [Nether Devil] closest to him, hurriedly angling his gaze from the beast’s head, not wanting to look into its eyes.

Wait…. Can [Nether Gaze] even influence me?

He shelved the idea to the back of his mind for now, not yet seeing the need to take the risk.

Diseased looking violet skin, Sharp, serrated black claws. Humanoid in shape, violently hunched back. Five feet tall, maybe. Two arms, two legs with shark-tooth nails jutting out. A fleshy, forked tail swiveling behind him. Glow emanating from forehead.

Having taken into account all that he could, Tom burst forward.

[Analysing…

[Monster Species: Nether Devil

Phantasmal Skills: Nether Gaze, Miasma Claw

Estimated Level: 3]

He felt the world around himself fade away, the alarmed cries of the [Nether Devils] sounding out an entire world away. The sound of his footsteps on the rocky cave floor, the sound of wind resistance being sliced away as his arcane sword arced forward and the perspiration trickling down his side… his subconscious mind analysed it all, but chose to ignore the emotional reaction that would have normally followed

He was in the zone.

Nothing but the task at hand mattered.

A jet of blood sprayed out into the air as, with merely a single slash of his sword, he cleanly severed its right leg off a little below the angle.

The horrified expression it must have had.

The painful wail that sounded out seconds later.

He cared for none of it.

Sidestepping past the first [Nether Devil], he found the outstretched claws reaching out for his throat.

Normally, he would be terrified at the prospect.

Instead, he pivoted on the ball of his left foot, his right suspended in midair as he saw the clawed hand whistle pass him, a few inches the only thing separating him for a gnarly death.

Another scream was cried out, another charge of [Rend] expendedas the [Nether Devil’s] right arm was mercilessly lopped off. Slapping the [Phantasmal Being] away with the flat of his sword, he accelerated again.

He got no experience from the kill, but that was alright.

His goal wasn’t to kill, but to escape.

Five steps were all he got before the next assault.

Tom didn’t know how he could tell in the chaos of combat, but he sensed the muffled footsteps of the [Nether Devil] sneaking up on him from behind. He sword swung out in a pivoting arc and Tom felt it impact against something soft and fleshy.

A scream followed, footsteps ceased.

Faster.

Tom was the personification of terror as he flitted past three, then five, then ten [Nether Devils], killing none but disabling all in his wake. Limbs flew, blood poured out on the floor. The past him wouldn’t be able to recognize the present him at this point, but it didn’t matter.

The exit was near.

He could feel it in his bones.

Tom’s eyes widened. A violet blade arced through the air but… it wasn’t his. The timing, the precision, the stealth— a flicker of horror flashed in his eyes as he realized the deception.

The blade itself he could parry. But dodge? No. There wasn’t enough time to dodge.

[Analysing…

[Monster Species: Nether Devil

Phantasmal Skills: Nether Gaze, Miasma Claw

Estimated Level: 5]

This… monster…. It had been biding his time, letting its comrades drop like fodder while it picked the perfect ambush. The angle, the timing… the blow, it’s intent wasn’t to kill him, no.

It’s intention was to make him look in his eyes. If he closed his eyes… it would simply kill him with the subsequent blow.

This was it.

All his efforts… the best performance in his life and it… boiled down to chance.

“How foolish!” Tom screamed out, a wide grin resting on his face.

Life or death… it’s up to you know, old boy.

Tom caught the plasma blade with the edge of his blades, a loud screeching sound echoing out as violet clashed with violet, throwing arcs of lightning out as the two [Nether Blades] clashed with each other.

Tom’s eyes met the [Nether Devil’s] red, glowing serpentine visage, complete with convex-shaped pupils. The creature’s visage, which he’d seen earlier amongst the corpses, was as ugly as the first time— misshappen, oversized head, knife like ears, circular, red, serpentine eyes and two small horns jutting out from its head.

It was grinning with its terrifying, interlocking needle like protrusions in its mouth that he supposed were teeth. Tom was grinning too, taking in every moment of the life and death tryst they were engaged in.

Tom’s eyes glazed over, his facial expression froze, as if it were locked in place. His smile turned into a horror stricken expression.

The [Nether Devil] let out a victorious grunt, applying a little more strength to its blade.

It was over.

A kick shot out. The [Nether Devil], which had believed itself to be on the cusp of victory, hadn’t expected the sudden and swift retaliation. It’s weight had been placed against the blade, but since it expected no retaliation, it was all the more easy to destabilise its balance.

[The Fool has detected a foriegn mental influence upon your soul.]

[The Fool has successfully eliminated foriegn mental influence.]

“Gotcha,” Tom burst out into a fury-filled laughter as his [Nether Blade] sliced the Devil’s sword arm off. As it landed upon the ground, confused, disoriented and shocked, it saw a blade tip thrust towards his throat.

A manic, laughing human would be the last thing it would see, it’s primitive mind ceasing to exist with a final, unanswered question—

What was so damn funny?