122- Guzman vs Dominic [4]
Volume 03, Chapter 122
Guzman vs Dominic [4]
The Dominics, as one, raise their hands toward Guzman, Mana gathering and crackling in their palms.
"Dark Beam."
Shadows shoot forward, lancing through the air. The beams collide with Guzman in an eruption of force.
-BOOM!
The plaza vanishes in a hurricane of dust and debris, the ancient fountain shattering behind him. When the dust finally settles, Guzman still stands, barely. He is battered, his clothes torn, blood seeping from his mouth, his arms trembling beneath the weight of pain and exhaustion.
Yet he does not fall.
The clones watch, their eyes narrowing. The original Dominic steps forward, his jaw clenched in a storm of fury and grief. He gathers [B+] Rank Mana in his palm, forming a sphere of darkness that pulses with pent-up violence, but he holds it back.
"Did you regret killing the people in my town?" Dominic's voice is tight, cold, trembling beneath the surface.
Guzman meets his eyes, his own swirling with shadows of doubt and something else. For an instant, he glimpses his uncle's ghost, then the image of Jelena, small and frail, fighting for life against the very poison he unleashed. Guilt twisted inside him then, alien and relentless, as unfamiliar as kindness.
'Why am I feeling this now? For her? For all of them? Uncle…'
But then he remembers the legacy he is supposed to uphold, the weight of a century of violence, all those empty smiles, all that suffering for survival. He cannot falter now.
"To be honest, I—" Guzman starts, his voice rough with exhaustion.
"Straight to the point," Dominic cuts him off, his control barely holding.
Guzman's gaze hardens. As he speaks, he begins to compress Mana in the depths of his body, shrouding it, letting only the smallest trace seep into the air, too subtle for detection. A last, desperate gamble.
"No," Guzman replies, his voice flat and defiant.
Dominic's composure cracks. His teeth grind together, raw emotion flashing across his face—anger, grief, helplessness.
"My mother… my people… all gone. Just for living in Eñeforte." Dominic's voice trembles. "Your mafia has ruined lives for generations. All those families, destroyed for Camillums and pride. I hope you burn in hell."
His aura explodes outward, every ounce of [A] Rank Mana he possesses roaring to the surface, eclipsing the plaza in darkness and pressure. Even the clones shudder, their forms flickering.
The orb in Dominic's hand swells, growing until it looms over the battlefield, massive as a skyscraper, a physical manifestation of all his rage and grief.
"Dark Be—"
"PANDEMIC GENESIS!" Guzman screams, unleashing the Mana he has hidden.
A wave of black, toxic mist explodes from Guzman's body, radiating outward in an instant.
Agony.
Dominic's entire body seizes. The dark orb flickers, shudders, then shatters, vanishing.
He and his clones reel, blood streaming from their eyes, ears, and mouths. Their skin burns. Muscles twist, bones feel as though they are melting, nerves aflame.
"Ugh—A-AAAHH!" Dominic screams, his body writhing in the dirt, his hands clawing at his flesh.
The clones cannot hold their forms; they collapse, writhing, then burst apart, dissolving into black smoke one by one, leaving Dominic alone, exposed, and utterly broken.
His vision blurs. The world spins.
SYSTEM ALERT! YOUR BODY AND SOUL ARE BEING SLOWLY ERADICATED! YOU ARE CURRENTLY EXPERIENCING ALL FORMS OF DISEASES THAT IGNORE DEFENSES AND TARGET BOTH YOUR BODY AND SOUL! |
He can barely think, barely move, but through the haze of pain, he can see the red letters blazing across his consciousness.
Ironclad Will Skill Activated! |
The skill tries to dull the pain, but it cannot extinguish the hell surging through him.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Dominic lies broken, wracked by suffering, vision swimming.
════ ⋆★⋆ ════
The two Dominic clones, still stationed at the edge of town beside the battered lightning demon, suddenly feel a jolt of dread ripple through the link to their original.
"Something's wrong," one murmurs, turning urgently toward Eñeforte. "Original is dying. We have to help him!"
"Wait!" the other calls, glancing at the demon. "What about this thing?"
"You stay here, guard it, talk to it, do anything! I'm going to Original!" the first clone declares. He unfurls his shadowy wings with a rush of black wind and shoots skyward, heading for the center of town.
The remaining clone stands alone, tense, as lightning dances across the demon's ruined form. The demon twitches and writhes, sparks of unstable Mana flaring from its body, its aura crackling with power and agony.
He hesitates, then approaches, hands raised in a peaceful gesture. "Hey there… uh, big guy. Easy, easy…"
"RAHHH!" the demon screams, bolts of lightning arcing around it. The force of its Mana radiates outward, wild and unstable.
"Whoa, whoa! Okay!" the clone says, stepping back. The pain in the demon's voice is unmistakable—raw, animal, and desperate.
The clone studies the creature closely. Its body is a horrifying patchwork of rot and electricity, bones exposed through ruined flesh, electric veins pulsing beneath its scorched skin.
Then, as he moves closer, he sees something truly disturbing: under the demon's ribs, beneath cracked plates of bone, flicker the faint shapes of human faces, twisted in silent torment.
Revulsion rises in the clone's throat. "No wonder… This thing isn't a natural demon. It's a construct, a nightmare born from human experimentation." The realization chills him. "Its humanity's been stripped away, leaving only agony and rage… That's a fate far worse than death. To be remade, forced to serve, with only enough mind left to know what you've lost."
He considers mercy—a quick end to its suffering. But his mission remains: form a contract.
Scanning the demon, the clone spots a small, glowing red stone embedded in its side, pulsing with sinister energy.
"That must be the control crystal. If I destroy it…"
Without hesitation, the clone sprints toward the demon, dark shadows spiraling around his body.
"Shadow's Embrace!" he invokes.
The aura shields him as bolts of [A]-Rank lightning crash down, burning the earth where he just stood, but he presses forward, unstoppable.
He leaps, landing atop the demon's massive head. The demon bucks and shrieks, but the clone holds fast, then drives a punch into its skull, knocking it sprawling to the ground.
Seizing the moment, the clone wrenches the red stone free and crushes it in his fist.
Instantly, the demonic energy flickers and wanes. The creature's eyes lose their wild frenzy, the thunder at its core fading to a gentle spark. It stills, trembling, but is no longer in agony.
The clone hops down, ready to defend himself, but the demon only watches him. Then, slowly, it bows, lowering its head until it kneels in the dust.
The clone's breath catches. "Is it… offering a contract?" He extends a hand, pressing it gently to the demon's nose. "Do I need to chant? Or just… connect?"
He closes his eyes, reaching out with his Mana, searching for the broken spirit within the demon. He finds it—a tangled knot of pain, but also hope. Their energies intertwine, and for a moment, the world glows with violet light.
The connection deepens, soul touching soul. He feels the demon's pain, its gratitude, its desperate yearning for release. The pact seals itself with a whisper, the bond forged in shadow and electricity.
A message flashes before his eyes.
Master's Clone, you have successfully formed a pact with the demon. You can now summon the demon whenever you want to aid in your battle. |
He blinks in amazement. "Wait, does that mean it's mine, not Original's?"
No, since you're Original's clone, the demon is now bound to the Original's soul as well. |
"Ah… makes sense," the clone murmurs.
The demon rears up, letting out a victorious roar, then unleashes a thunderous beam of lightning skyward, a howl of new freedom.
The clone shields his eyes, heart racing. When the light fades, he and the demon regard each other again, something unspoken passing between them: respect, sorrow, and the promise of a new fate.
Suddenly, the demon's monstrous form shimmers, its body breaking apart into a cloud of glowing crimson dust. The radiant particles spiral toward the clone, swirling around him in a tempest of energy.
He gasps as the dust merges into his chest, sinking beneath his skin and flooding his soul with wild, electric power. For a moment, he staggers, overwhelmed by the sensation of another presence now anchored deep within him.
"Did… did it just go inside me?" the clone whispers, staring at his own trembling hands.
Master's Clone, since you've formed a pact, the demon now resides within your soul. As noted, you may summon it whenever you wish. If it is defeated, it will retreat to your soul to recover before returning to battle. |
The clone exhales, a slow, shaky breath. Inside, he feels the storm—the consciousness of the demon, once pained and lost, now chained to his will, but pulsing with living, waiting power.
He flexes his fingers. Electricity crackles faintly between them—a taste of the pact's strength, and the union of magic.
System Alert: |
You now possess a new magic attribute: "Lightning." You now have 2 magic attributes! |
He stares at the glowing message, awestruck. "…Incredible."
With resolve renewed, he turns back to the town, feeling the tug of the original's pain and peril.
"Time to help the Original! Umbra Wings!"
Black wings of shadow unfurl from his back. Fueled by both darkness and lightning, he soars into the air, racing toward the heart of Eñeforte.