Pullas watched the confrontation between Randidly Ghosthound and the Xyrt Brigade representative, feeling a quiet swelling of pride at her companion during the Ascension Pact. At the time, the two had been close enough in power that Pullas with her association with death didn’t feel too disadvantaged. But now-

Now he stood and directly against the army arrayed against them… and suppressed them all.

In the first two confrontations, Randidly had been forced backward by the Xyrt Brigade representative. His body was wounded, his muscles shook, and his face appeared distracted. Pullas wondered whether their apparent association made him hesitate. Death leaned closer to her and whispered in her ear about ways she could assist him; despite the difference in power, Pullas’ unique image meant that she never lacked methods to strike a dangerous blow. Even with the suppression of the Xyrt Brigade’s strange method, death always possessed a way to press a finger on the scale.

Yet during the second blow, Randidly managed to release two pulses of images. The first to fight against the black dragon of destruction and the second broke the suppressive image the Xyrt Brigade released.

More than the fact that he utilized two powerful and complex images at once, it was the feeling Pullas had about the second image that made her the most shocked. Because what he wielded had shades of death in it, of a certain bleak oblivion that consumed and devoured, begetting more if itself as it satisfied its bottomless hunger.

And Randidly Ghosthound had leashed such power.

The strained expressions of Eloise and his Upper Sonara Society finally eased in a moment of silence after the image blasted outward. Hundreds of their foes swooned, unable to handle the brush with it. Then their images exploded, attacking those members of the Xyrt Brigade that had not suffered underneath the Ghosthound’s image pulse.

All the currents of power that had been concentrated in the blue-haired representative faded and twisted around to face the immediate threat. Each powerful in their own right, the Upper Sonara Society exploded out into the lines of the blockade. One of the representatives subordinates flushed and screamed. “You dare?! You stand against Elhume himself. If you continue down this path-”

A strange being of folded space and barbed tentacles manifested in the space around his body. Before the subordinate could react, a tentacle wrapped around him and squeezed until his head popped and jelly oozed out of his orifices.

Tuthak Eloise released a soft laugh, his octopus appendages undulating. “From the beginning, we understood the path on which we tread. You will find none who lack resolve here.”

Combat exploded on ever side. Massive brass swords, gleaming beams of annihilating maroon light, sweeping tides of salt flecked water… hundreds of varied images turned the sky into a thick and murky storm. They cut and hacked, breaking off more and more of the tributaries of destruction that fed into that swimming black dragon. The Xyrt Brigade members might possess less impressive images, but they worked well together. Small squads formed, suppressing the more individually powerful members of the Upper Sonara Society.

How easy it is, to destroy something, Pullas reflected, looking at the images of their opponents. But then again… this entire gathering is to tear down the Nexus. And I specifically… only a thin veil separates my development from their own. A sheet with a face drawn messily across it, cast across the horrible truth beneath.

Pullas’s eyes turned forward. A fish-headed Xyrt Brigade Member bellowed and rushed for. In the past, she hesitated for too long. But Randidly had shown her the benefit of throwing herself forward, despite fears. Seeing his growth… how could she doubt his methods?

“And in the end… a single thin veil… can make a world of difference.” Pullas’s eyes danced. She raised her arms as the fish-head unleashed a condensed blast of destruction. The death smiled and sashayed forward.

She cut through the blast and then kissed the cheek of the fishhead with her image. As his flesh began to rot, Pullas shot sideways and slammed into the side of another Xyrt Brigade Member, who had been cutting toward Fiona’s blindspot.

The other woman kicked her opponent in the chest, then whirled around in a tornado of force to hack off the head of the foe Pullas had struck. Fiona raised a hand and wiped sweat off of her brow. “Thanks for that. These bastards are too persistent.”

Pullas was about to respond, but a clapping wave of force sent both of them sprawling. They looked up to the sky, where a complex raven of darkness had again been obliterated by the black dragon. Fiona grimaced. “Even though most of the support being poured into her image has ceased… how does it still grow in power?”

“Much more slowly. But once unleashed, that dragon does naught but spread annihilation,” Pullas observed.

Stolen novel; please report.

The dragon in question spiraled upward, gnashing its teeth. Its scales darkened further as its power concentrated and sharpened itself in the clashes with Randidly. Its eyes blazed, one the azure of the representative’s hair, the other crimson with intoxicating fury. Even from this distance, Pullas could feel the spine of the creature cracking as its body began to swell.

Opposite that monster, Randidly looked positively… mortal. But death whispered in Pullas’s ear and pointed.

A thousand small breaths, a million echoes of impact swam up through the air and began to churn around his body. All the fighting that happened below fueled him, the broken image shards and pained shouts added to his own power.

Now, it just became a matter of which accumulated faster.

Pullas and Fiona exchanged a glance. Then they launched themselves at a nearby group of Xyrt Brigade Members.

They had their own battles to fight, after all.

*****

“You are impossible.” Vualla hissed after their fourth clash, in which she barely managed to overpower him. Her black dragon lashed its tail back and forth, clearly dissatisfied as it circled around for another strike.

Randidly almost laughed, bitter and confused, but echoes of their association brought him a small flash of joy. The shallow wound across his ribs knitted together extremely quickly. Both Sulfur and Acri cooed in pleasure, taking immense enjoyment from the conflict. It was the first time in a while that Randidly’s grand manifestations had actually been about fighting, not some convoluted series of symbols to subvert the System.

A split second later, a heady rush of heat filled his limbs; he could sense that Homunculi’s Adaptive Engineering had climbed again, moving now from Mythic to Transcendent. Not only his healing capability skyrocketed, but Randidly could also feel the way that the Stat sharpened all of his other physical Stats.

He pulled kinetic energies from below, drawing complex and organic flows within his body. Nether and Aether ran counter to one another as he settled into a lower stance for another clash. His gaze steadily sharpened. His storm of force began to churn; he now had more than enough power to strike decisively.

“What changed, Vualla?” Randidly called. When she ignored him, he didn’t try to push. He just thrust with his spear.

Lethal Tide of Izanami. Erebus’s Baleful Waltz. Darkness Withers the Horizon and the Watching Carrion Grins.

Congratulations! Your Skill Darkness Withers the Horizon and the Watching Carrion Grins (T) has grown to Level 1054!

Congratulations! Your Skill Erebus’s Baleful Waltz (P) has grown to Level 1100!

…

Congratulations! Your Skill Darkness Withers the Horizon and the Watching Carrion Grins (T) has grown to Level 1071!

Randidly utilized the same trifecta of Skills as he struck again, once more leaving out the Songstress of Absence. The event horizon/siren hissed in displeasure, but instead, Randidly pulled in the surging tide of kinetic forces.

All the clashes below him became his power. He sharpened that power into a spear and stabbed. His eyes flashed and he guided the point of his spear, which morphed and became the sharpened talons of his monstrous crow, right to the small flaws in the energy flows of the black dragon. Heedless of the danger, Vualla rushed forward and initiated the contact.

Their gazes met for a second. Randidly could see how desperate she was to subdue him.

They crashed into one another, weapons tipped with images but fueled by raw power.

Although most of the Xyrt Brigade’s array had been split off to fight against the Upper Sonara Society, enough remained that the forces of destruction rumbled through Randidly’s bones. Similarly, Vualla’s expression turned pained as all the kinetic force on the battlefield smashed against her and swished her internal organs around.

Jarred, both drifted backward— in this encounter, they had been even.

“Impossible…” Vualla bit her lip, drawing blood. Randidly wondered if it was a comment or a frustrated echo of her calling her impossible earlier.

He spun his spear and settled into another stance. As he healed away the small damages that Vualla had inflicted, his new Vitality Stat unleashed another warming pulse. His physical capabilities sharpened further. The Dread Homunculus chuckled as it considered its prey.

This isn’t enough, Randidly reflected. So before Vualla managed to suppress all the cracks in the black dragon’s scales, he surged forward. He carried with him a thousand ghastly specters from a million battlefields, each in his thrall. They lashed out together, a garish imitation of his streamlined and simple spear thrust. But when all those ghosts layered their power on top of each other, were fuelled by kinetic violence, and given weapons of Yggdrasil’s feathered monster-

In their sixth clash, Randidly knocked Vualla further backward.

The seventh inflicted a deep wound down the dragon’s side.

In a massive display of sheer obstinacy, Vualla bellowed before the eighth clash and completely restored the integrity of her image. She moved and the whole world seemed to move with her, hammering Randidly with a blow that contained not even a sink energy leak. The contoured expression of violence was flawless.

But against a Randidly who had built up his momentum, the eighth clash ended up as a draw.

For several long seconds, they pressed against one another. Randidly could feel her breath on his cheek. Right before he was about to pull away, she spat out some words. “All those sweet moments we shared… all those memories… because you don’t seem to have meant our promises… I wish none of them had happened.”

Randidly pressed his lips together, intending to ignore her and pull away for the ninth clash, which he believed would be decisively his.

But although he wished to ignore her words… a part of him did not. Within its misty depths, the Keystone of the First Ghasthund began to spark.