Capítulo 28: I Don’t Want to Be a Heroic Spirit [28]
By the time Baobhan Sith sensed its approach, the blade was only a fist's width from her pale neck.
But that mere distance was a chasm it could never cross.
To the masked figure, it felt like a flicker—a blink, and a pale, slender hand had pressed down over its face.
An unstoppable force gripped its head, rendering it completely immobile.
In that instant, Baobhan Sith demonstrated her monstrous strength, a force comparable to a dragon, as she seized the figure and smashed it brutally to the floor.
After holding back for so long, she finally unleashed her A-rank strength.
A hit like that would be fatal, or at the very least incapacitating, for any opponent.
Yet the sensation in her hand made Baobhan Sith's smile fade, a frown slowly forming on her face.
The masked figure slipped out of her grip, raising its dagger for another attempt, prompting Baobhan Sith to dodge several meters back in a blink.
She watched as it rose from the floor with ease, its mask unbroken, showing no signs of injury.
A-level strength and still no effect? No way it should be unharmed.
A technique similar to Gojo's Infinity? No, she'd definitely made contact.
Without giving her time to analyze, the figure lunged forward with its dagger once more, only to be swatted aside even faster, slamming against the wall.
"Don't move; I'm thinking."
Baobhan Sith didn't spare it a glance, too engrossed in her thoughts.
The masked figure struggled to rise, only to be knocked down midair by a swift strike, then hit with another slash that sent it crashing back to the floor.
"Slashes don't work, either. So it's not simply immune to physical attacks; magic doesn't seem effective either?"
She mused aloud as if she weren't in the middle of a fight, dissecting this like it was some intriguing puzzle.
One by one, she tested and discarded ideas, honing in on the only possible answer.
Suddenly, sharp spikes extended from Baobhan Sith's back, ramming into a dark shadow and pinning it against the wall.
"Just a lowly weakling—resorting to backstabbing? Pathetic."
She tilted her head, sneering in disdain, then cast a sidelong glance at the trapped masked figure.
"Ah, so that's it. No wonder it felt off. You're just puppets or clones, aren't you?"
Of course, they didn't answer; these figures lacked the capacity for speech or thought, programmed only to attack any living being within the room.
"None of my attacks work on you, and your own strength is barely above a human wielding a simple dagger? How naive."
And besides…
"I refuse to believe your 'immortality' comes without some limit or weakness."
Take Achilles from the Type-Moon world, for instance. Though he possessed an immortal body, divine servants could harm him, and his heel could be struck to break his invulnerability.
Baobhan Sith analyzed her enemies, while the two masked figures merely stood there, waiting blankly.
Then, from the shadows, more fox-masked figures emerged one after another. Soon, over twenty identical figures surrounded Baobhan Sith.
"Using numbers to make up for lack of quality?" She cast a disinterested look around, quickly losing interest.
In the face of absolute power, numbers meant nothing.
"So, you're immortal? And you're ganging up on me?"
Her right hand rested on her bow as a feral grin spread across her face, her blood-red mana staining the room in crimson.
"Fine then, I'll just shred you all to pieces—along with everything else here! Let's see if your weakness still hides after that!"
As the horde of masked figures charged, Baobhan Sith's gaze turned cold, her fingers poised to summon her deadly melody.
But just as she was about to pluck the strings, a sudden surge of unease gripped her, causing her expression to shift. She twisted her wrist, unleashing a flurry of slashes that flung the attackers back.
"What was that?"
The mockery on her face faded, replaced by intense focus.
But there was no time to dwell on it, as wave after wave of masked figures clambered over the fallen to attack again, this time brandishing an assortment of weapons: longswords, axes, spears, even a naginata.
"Enough, you mindless puppets! This is getting ridiculous!"
Another round of slashes repelled the advancing figures, but it didn't slow them for long. The ones she struck down simply picked up their weapons and resumed the charge.
Unable to stand their relentless pursuit and still puzzled by that strange unease, Baobhan Sith, after repelling the figures yet again, used magic to lift herself into the air.
Luckily, the ceiling here was high enough that she wouldn't hit her head.
"Damn it. A bunch of small fries, and they dare to make me look foolish."
From her new vantage, Baobhan Sith's view widened. She now saw that the once-spacious room was nearly packed with identical masked figures.
"Hm?"
Baobhan Sith noticed something odd.
Though she was now hovering above, the masked figures didn't seem to be aiming for her at all.
They weren't trying to stack themselves up or even look in her direction, as if they existed in a dimension with no concept of "up" or "down."
But Baobhan Sith sensed something was off. Just moments ago, some figures had leapt at her, so it wasn't that they couldn't see her up there.
And then… there was that eerie sense of dread she'd felt earlier…
Could it be that these masked figures' weapons somehow posed a threat to her?
But as she looked closer, the weapons all seemed ordinary—nowhere near cursed tools, much less anything exceptional.
"!!!"
There it was again!
An invisible hand seemed to squeeze her heart, sending a jolt through her nerves, urging her to dodge to the side instinctively.
Almost simultaneously, a loud crash drew her attention below.
Bang!
Steadying herself, she saw several masked figures clustered together, their weapons striking the same spot on the floor.
"Is that what's causing this sense of dread? An attack on the floor? No, that doesn't explain why the sensation vanished once I moved. It must be something that changes position along with me…"
These thoughts flashed through her mind in an instant, and then Baobhan Sith's eyes widened as the answer came to her.
"My shadow!"
She looked down and saw that directly below her, several masked figures were raising their weapons toward a figure trapped within her shadow's outline.
The figure in the center was knocked to the ground, but by then Baobhan Sith had already leapt to a clear area, landing out of reach.
Only now did she notice that, despite rows upon rows of overhead lights, her shadow stayed small, unaffected by distant lights.
"So that's the trick? And I only figured it out now?"
Baobhan Sith chuckled to herself, half in frustration.
"If my shadow is struck, it sends a curse back at me. A curse so potent that even with my Magic Resistance, I feel its danger. Clever. This is quite the domain."
Though she sensed its danger, she knew she wouldn't die—not with her EX-rank Magic Resistance. But she could be wounded.
"Here I thought having a Heroic Spirit's power would make me unstoppable in this world. Didn't expect intriguing foes to sprout up like bamboo shoots after rain."
Musing aloud, Baobhan Sith received no answer. The moment her feet touched the ground again, the masked figures raised their weapons and charged.
"If my shadow can be harmed, then… what about yours?"
Her blood-red mana surged again, her ombre hair streaming in the magical wind behind her.
This time, she carefully stepped away from her shadow and plucked her bow's strings.
The flow of life was severed.
Time's passage was severed.
Sound itself was severed.
A glowing circle expanded on the ground below.
It was as if the Creator had drawn the boundary between the old world and a new one with that expanding circle.
In the new world, remnants of the old were denied survival.
Life, matter, and sound—all dissolved upon touching the edge of that "circle," disintegrating into the smallest particles.
The storm of slashes interwove, forming a hemisphere of pure white over the ground. What it left behind was white death, white destruction.
When the pale curtain lifted, all that remained was a massive crater, as if gouged out by the hands of a divine giant.
Standing in the center of the crater, on a lone stone pillar, Baobhan Sith chuckled into her hand.
"Well~~ looks like I got a little carried away."
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T/N: Sukuna step asideeee
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