Mark hated.

All he wanted to do was live his life with Aiyla, as he saw fit… and these abominations took that away from him.

As he watched the approaching mass, he took the time to read over the various Blue Boxes hovering above their heads. For whatever reason, after he got his newest eye these appeared over everything, luckily after he had already seen something once it didn’t appear again unless he willed it. If not, he might have gone mad from the literal mountain of boxes over every single bone and bloody corpse.

Desecrated Ghoul

Level 47

Health: 2250 / 2250

Even the lowest leveled Ghoul seemed to be nearly 50….. Mark seemed completely unperturbed however, and continued to watch their undisturbed approach.

As soon as the first ghoul reached within 10 feet of Mark, he quickly twirled the spear before leveling it at the ghoul.

It had been days since last fighting with a spear, during which Mark had gotten remarkably stronger. He had many ideas as to what he could do to improve, unfortunately most of this drive to improve was siphoned along with the life of Aiyla. His only thoughts were revenge and how he despised everything. No longer did he only hate humans with every ounce of his being, even other creatures began to rise to this honor. They all stood in his way.

Thus he swung…. And missed. The spear’s tip had come within centimeters of the decaying ghoul’s flesh, but it still missed.

As the strike continued, it suddenly stopped mid air as if it had lost all its momentum before careening backwards, straight towards the ghouls now exposed neck. The spear had exploded backwards with such force, that a miniature sonic boom echoed throughout the chamber.

As the spear came into contact with the ghoul, its head went flying before its body collapsed, leaving the creature curious as to what happened before its life was snuffed from existence.

This changed nothing however, as the veritable wave of undead continued to rush him. What did they care if one of their brethren had fallen, all they understood was that now they would have a larger share of the meat.

Bone fragments began to hover around Mark before spinning rapidly. These same fragments disappeared only to shotgun the surrounding ghouls pelting them like shrapnel. Unfortunately, being undead, they mostly shrugged it off while only a few were felled.

This didn’t matter to Mark, all he saw was his enemies end. So he did it again. And again.

With unlimited ammunition in the form of countless corpses surrounding him, Mark could simply stand there and take them all down with those simple bone projectiles, but that wasn’t Mark’s way. He wanted to feel their warm blood coat his hands as he stared them in the eyes and watched their spark slowly fade to the void. He wanted to disembowel them and watch them struggle to retain their pathetic lives.. MARK WANTED TO KILL THEM ALL.

His body lurched forward unnaturally, likely due to the unnecessary amount of telekinesis he had put into throwing himself into the oncoming mob. That same power lifted his spear along with his own natural strength, before willing it to descend. This time the sonic boom was unmistakable as the bloody spear carved a path through the wall of flesh.

Its speed was such that the wounds of the ghouls had yet to bleed, not even their bodies could comprehend the speed at which they were ripped apart.

A rotten smell perforated the air as the already dead were exposed to oxygen. It was such a pervasive stench that even Astoria had to back away from the hole temporarily as it spread.

Ignoring this, Mark continued to cut, using his Psychic powers to stop the momentum then immediately restart it, even faster in the opposite direction.

He twisted between the masses, leaped over ghouls lunging to take a chunk out of him, and dashed under those who thought they would have a chance against him. In all that time his spear never stopped moving. At this point he was coated in the viscous, black blood. Mark paid no attention to the fact that it was cold, or even the fact it hardly could be called blood in the first place. All he understood was that his enemies were losing something precious, and he was the one taking it.

Despite the number of undead already sent to rest once again, less than a minute had gone by.

In that time, the horde of hundreds kept coming, and Mark kept swinging.

Had a normal person tried to swing and stop at the speeds Mark was handling, their organs would probably be liquified as the reverberations shook them to the core. Their arms would shatter from the pressure, and their bones be ground to dust as they crumbled from the burden. Using Psychic powers to control such a speed was a cheat, and it was one Mark used liberally.

Constantly shifting directions, not even the mass of undead could corner Mark as he jettisoned his own body across the horde using the same force he applied to his spear.

Their numbers began to thin, worn down from countless bone missiles and from Mark himself hacking away at the swarm.

You can only repeat the same motions so many times before even brainless ghouls will find the pattern. With less than half of their numbers remaining, one ghoul finally swipes down raking their claws across Mark’s left forearm….

Instantly he could feel that arm go limp as more than an inch of flesh is carved from his skin in long strips and the surrounding flesh turns a sick grey color. Without hesitation Mark brought his bladed spear up to his elbow before using telekinesis to cut down with as much force as possible. The pain from that alone made his vision swim despite his hyper focused state of mind. The laceration was clean, even though he used the same blade that had ended so many undead.

Using Blood Dominion and Compelled reconstruction, he quickly had the missing appendage scab over to prevent any further chances of infection via ghoul and continued his bloody business.

Looking towards the ghoul that had caused him to lose his arm, he could see it on the ground licking the blood that had dropped from his forearm, while trying to pry the chunks of flesh caught in its nails at the same time. Another group of ghouls had managed to acquire his missing limb and had already begun ripping into it, the blood from which formed a faint mist in the stagnant air.

With only a thought, all of this blood combusted, leaving the ghouls without a meal… and without heads.

One handed and still out armed, Mark raised his makeshift spear into the air before bringing it down as hard as possible. Through a unique application of telekinesis forcing the blade while manipulating the surrounding air to build tension, a crescent blade of wind tore through the remaining horde. It was rather weak considering the amount of energy exchanged to create it, revealing a few flaws in its design. Otherwise the creation had done just as intended, and ended the remaining monsters from the cavern.

The previously noisey cavern descended into silence as all its previous occupants found themselves to be evicted from life. All the while Mark stood, and waited.

While the flesh and blood of the ghouls slowly fell off of his unmoving form, his eyes could be seen to be rapidly flickering, as if they were reading for something… very important….

Congratulations! You have solidified your fighting style through an arduous task, you are now the creator of the Crimson Pandemic Spear Style!

Crimson Pandemic (Spear Style: Tier I)

A spear style revolving around misdirection and redirection. Users need a form of control over their surroundings as they use their wills to manipulate themselves and their enemies through their spear and powers. It is a bloody style that relies on striking fast, not caring for the mess left behind. Users will have to get in close without the concern for the blood and gore they will eviscerate from their enemies.

+2 Strength +4 Dexterity +1 Perception

Created by Mark Telod.

Basic Spear Mastery: (Tier III)

Grants user Basic instincts for wielding a spear

Good job, you can now poke things with your sharp stick even more efficiently!

You have slain an overwhelming number of enemies! As all of your opponents were of a higher level than you, your rewards have been doubled!

For slaying 698 Desecrated Ghouls:

18,467 XP

12,782 FMP

Congratulations! You are now level 36!

Even after reading the notifications, Mark’s eyes never stopped twitching back and forth, still reading…

Faintly, the glow of five objects could be seen before he quickly hid them in his spatial ring from the descending Astoria.

Looking up he could see the worry on her face, her focus solely on his missing left arm.

“Mark are you alright?” She seemed genuinely worried and walked up to inspect the self inflicted wound.

“Astoria.”

Raising her head to look him in the eyes, she could see a faint spark form before Mard said something that made her long dead heart quake. Something that had for a long time been out of her reach, and had resulted in constant feelings of contempt for those who could experience what she was forever barred from.

“I Love you Astoria.”