Trash: Chapter 160 Mist-Ickle (Patreon)

Chapter 160

Mist-Ickle

Odd how when the world goes to chaos around you, the only things you can truly count on are your training and muscle memory. Your body moves and reacts naturally, allowing your mind to take the minute it needs to process the new information around you, and fully direct your body in its most optimal way. This benefit of training is only further heightened when you see the slight delay it takes for a controlled minion to be directed by a master.

Overall, the idea of having direct and unquestioned control over the mind and body of an individual sounds impressive. Especially when the body that you hold dominion over is a giant freak of a human who is only enhanced by years of powerful adaptations that serve to bolster the few perceived weaknesses the original host’s body had. The only problem is that in that connection from master to minion, there is a delay. Time is needed for the master to first realize what you are doing, then to come up with a counter to that action. Most of the time this delay means nothing for the master had multiple minions under her control all being directed to do the same thing, attack anyone new.

However, that advantage goes away the more minions you take down. Then when you are left with the final minion, the disparity in time becomes increasingly obvious, particularly when you keep your feet moving.

Zigging left, I give a feint to the right, but then reverse my focus, switching the giant blade inside and aiming for the giant’s inner right leg instead, aiming for the meaty section right inside the thigh. The area that doesn’t seem to glow with a dark malevolent pulse of energy in the protective layer of demonic veins.

There is a thrust and a reinforced jab. Not a full strike, as I had to readjust, but one that was technically proficient and reinforced by my Life Reinforced Movements* Skill.

By all measurable means, the strike was perfect. An open strike to a vulnerable part of the body, one that the hulking brute did little to protect against as they were still bracing for a strike on their left side. Yet, the dullness of my blade showed its one lacking quality. While the blade is strong enough and heavy enough to bash through almost anything, it’s use as a strictly jabbing object is lacking. Then added to that is the fact that I am still slowly trickling back in more Soul Devouring energy into the blade, to replenish what was lost in my last battle, and all I get is a minor eight-inch-long burning gash along what should have been the femoral artery. That is, if this brute was still alive and had arteries. Instead, the beast being undead has no concept of pain, and no use for circulation, meaning that my inability to actually slice into the dense layer of outer coating is a huge issue.

Then things go from bad to worse quickly, as the brute, led by its master, sees the gaffe and takes full advantage. Clamping down like a bear trap, the brute who is still completely unaware of the burning pain in its nether region proceeds to squish its massive thighs together, thereby pinching my sword tightly between its legs. There is one problem with this, as the blade is still being infused with my bloodline energy, but at a rate that is only causing a minor burning sensation to its nether regions, and it doesn’t even register.

Worse, the controlled brute doubles down, moving both massive arms down to grab the sword between its legs, despite the clear wisps of burning smoke that rise from its contact with the infused blade.

Immediately, I try to pull my blade free but find that the brute is abnormally strong. That or all the burning is causing the blade to be welded to its outer layer of skin. Once it has a firm grasp, it only takes one massive yank upwards for the blade to be wretched from my hands.

There is a moment of emptiness, as I feel my last weapon being pulled from my hands, and realizing that I am suddenly barehanded. I even sense a feeling of emptiness as my weapon used to protect my bloodline is gone in an instant from my grasp. Realizing that my family weapon is now out of my control should be crippling to me, as I swear I can feel a deeper, more primal, connection to the blade. Especially now that the blade is out of my hands and being whipped down and back at me, handle first, as if it is an awkward approximation of a phallic symbol that is now being used by an oversized man child to beat and strike at me.

My body moves on instinct, easily detecting the path and trajectory of the weapon and dodging out of the way. Once again there is a disconnect between my body’s muscle memory and my mind, as the instinctual movements give my mind enough time to get over that lost primal connection to my ancestral blade. A blade that even now I still feel incomplete without the blade in my hands, yet it is enough time for my brain to move on to the next phase. No longer having a blade in my hands, I begin imbuing my feet and hands.

Ducking and diving under the flailing sword that seems to have welded itself permanently to the brute’s inner thighs and its hands, I move, striking and flowing quickly. A punch lands on a knee joint that only dents the hard outer skin that feels more like breaking into a plastic kid’s toy than anything else. Still, the strike does its part, as it allows me to twist under the momentarily stuck and decompressing knee joint, as I twist my way around the brute towards its backside.

The clumsy brute tries to turn in the cramped laboratory and normally would be able to spin about easily, but the large blade welded to its nether regions causes it to clank against walls, and a long-forgotten worktable with yet more pulsing veins on it.

“Ahh,” the brute finally cries out as the strikes against the walls and tables seems to force the still semi-imbued blade to burn just a tad deeper into its crotch, eliciting a yelp of pain in response. Seeing the reaction, I realize that there might be something I can still do. Yet, now that I am behind the brute, I feel my protective instincts flare to full blast as I can feel the full gaze of the wall flower, that is the spirit that is at the heart of this whole house haunting, stare directly into my back.

I can tell she can still move, and worse she is the type of opponent who can think and strategize ways to survive. This is why, I don’t give her much time to react to my sudden appearance and seemingly exposed back. Instead, I aim for the most open and vital component that I see on the brute, namely his spiritual umbilical cord that connects him directly to the mastermind of this whole shitshow.

Seeing the massive control cord laying on the ground, my golden eyes flare up, as the world seems to slow down around me, while I focus solely on striking the cord. My senses are telling me to run, to get away, to leave the open target for later as my mind sees and is already processing the multiple dangers around me. Being this close to the wall flower mastermind, I can see the tips of her fingers moving in some sort of rhythmic dance. Worse, I can see that several of the veins below my feet are pulsing and seemingly near to bursting with malevolence. Added to that is the fact that the brute has now managed to whip its attached member over and around the obstructing table and is now turning towards me, causing the spiritual umbilical cord to begin twisting away from me. My mind sees all of these threats, the wall flower with direct line of sight to me, the pulsing veins on the floor, and the brute with a weapon still attached, but my body dismisses all of that and aims for one clear strike at the spiritual umbilical cord.

Even now, I can feel my body redirecting more energy into my foot, imbuing every inch of the foot, my sock, and the protective shoe with the most concentrated dose of Soul Devour energy I can create. Then aided by my multiple attack, coordination, and speed enhancement skills, my body moves and adjusts its landing path. Jumping up, I momentarily lose connection with the ground, as my body instinctively knows it needs yet more force and power behind the strike.

I stretch my foot out, aiming for the cord. My eyes focusing solely on the one umbilical cord of domination, despite seeing the other veins down below all pulsing frantically as even now I can see mists of dark purple mist rising up from the ground, as the amount of energy being pushed is too much, causing the veins to burst open, right at the area where I was aiming to land.

My body already prepares for the fact that there will be pain, that I am going to land inside a rising layer of caustic mist.

Then it all happens at once.

I land, my foot jutting out an inch further than originally planned as the cord makes its final turn away, as the brute fully faces me. There is clear contact, as I can feel my fully bodyweight coming down on the thick cord, the energy from my bloodline Skill causing a searing effect to happen to the cord as my foot slices its way through. My foot is halfway through its searing process, cutting off most of the cord, but not completely separating the ends. Then the rest of the events seem to unravel at the same time. I can all but see the massive hilt of my sword turning towards me, in these cramped spaces I know it is all but destined to hit me. Then I see the effects of the purple mists that is rising up, and instantly being burned away by the bloodline energy imbued into the very clothes I am wearing. Mentally I know I could likely use my Trash Skill to remove the rest, but I am focused on using every ounce of concentration on spreading my bloodline Skill and coating my body in Soul Devouring energy.

Even with everything happening, my mind lets me know that there are options. I could move now. If I move now, I will likely be able to dart around the still turning brute, avoid the incoming attack from behind by the wall flower and likely avoid the worst of this rising attack mist that I know is nothing good. Yet, I am committed to this attack. Though I am not entirely useless.

Landing, I make sure to drive every ounce of my kinetic energy into my foot and thus further scorch my way through the spiritual umbilical cord between Master and the brute. At the same time, I feel the whip of an incoming attack, as the still turning brute uses this exact moment to swing my own sword at me, hilt first.

A duck low, using the downward momentum to further scorch and sear my way into and through the binding cord. Mentally, I exhale as I feel my foot grind down and twist slightly on smooth solid flooring. The type of flooring that feels both solid and slightly out of place given how unstable most of the ground has been to this point. With my foot touching the ground, I know that my task was done.

Meanwhile, I can feel a dark pulse of energy building up behind me as the wall flower master prepares something behind me. While the brute who just missed a strike over my head twists around and is already coming with its much less powerful backswing. A backswing that I stand up for, and then stupidly take.

Seeing the hilt coming back at me, I brace myself mentally and physically as I know this will hurt. Then the second before the hilt comes back and hits me at full force, I jump backwards, trying to lessen the impact of the strike. Unfortunately, the jump does little to disrupt the strike as I still feel the hilt drive deep into my sternum, causing my ribs to crack and groan from the pain. Then I feel a moment of weightlessness as my body is flung from the center of the room to the side wall in less than a second. While there is simultaneous explosion of light and sound ahead. An explosion that occurred at the exact spot I had been standing at a moment prior, yet my brain is dealing with more important things.

I land in a sticky layer of slime, as my clothes burn away some of the veins covering the walls, but that only causes the veins to secrete a sickening slime like material that tries to keep in more of the purple mists that also begin to escape. Even sliding down from the wall is slowed by the slime that seems to try to grab me and hold onto me for as long as possible.

As I am dealing with my own issues, it seems the wall flower made her strike. Having a second to orient myself, I was not wrong in thinking there was some type of explosion beneath my feet, as the mist that was being released by the pulsing veins is apparently highly flammable. Worse, it seems to have caught the brute in its only blast. Seeing the explosion happening to the brute that is already in pain with a giant sword welded to its nether regions, I am reminded that friendly fire is the most accurate fire.

Shaking my head, I try to focus through the pain. I’m alive, which is good, but there is still a lot to do. My ribs are definitely sore, either broken or cracked, I cannot tell at this point, but I’m already trying to lean forward and free myself from the slime coated wall. My left hand reaches down and begins applying my Streamline Healing* Skill to my ribs, and I want to take a moment to collect myself, but it seems that the mastermind had other plans. For while I was dealing with slime walls, broken ribs, and trying to avoid a burning brute, the mastermind used this moment to make her next move.

“Ahh!” The combined cries of Luna and Lucia ring out, their voices echoing down to me as I take a second to look for them. Only to realize that they are up through the trap door on the ceiling, but now in addition to the open trap door, I see not one, not two, but four pulsing tentacles reaching up and out of the trap door. Seeing the throbbing veins, I realize I need to act.

Suddenly the pain doesn’t hurt, my ribs don’t hurt, and I don’t feel disgusted by the slime slowly falling off of me and melting at its contact with my energy imbued clothes. I disregard everything, the pulsing veins that are releasing mists of flammable purple materials, the burning brute, and I just focus on the real threat, the wall flower mastermind who is now after my friends.

“Now you’ve done it,” I begin, taking a squishing step forward as the last bit of me that was attached to the wall slowly peels its way free.

“Now you’ve gone and made this all personal,” I say taking one hesitant step forward, before my body straightens out as I let a burst of adrenaline take me and help me prepare for what I need to do, in order to finally end this, once and for all.