Chapitre 26: The World Gave You A Lemon

The undying corpse of time shall drink the blood of an unheeding bleed.

You are the said corpse that is ushering from the ground as you kiss the grey soil every time you move, tingling the skin with something worse than pain and tremor in the presence of a higher predator.

It's not pain you're afraid of—it is your inner self whispering that you won't succeed.

And it takes toll the very moment you stepped on this demonic ground even though your pariah's eyes deem this action as stupid as worthless tirade. In the hope of erecting the blissful pride and victory, in the hope of overcoming your fear of a new world—

In the hope of not becoming your old self.

"Help, help—" Chimes from your lips that hate the taste of blood of your own brain. People are afraid to make a mistake, some strengthen their skull hard enough to replace those mistakes as an accident, but you don't have a thick skull. You're as weak as you can get when it comes to motivation and hypocrisy. When it already leads to this, it means that it was all your fault with no one else to blame.

Stress: 118%

"Shit!" Still having the slivers of adrenaline, you try to move any single piece of your body to no avail. The moment the ape in your frame appears large, that is the moment where your adrenaline is leaving. It's leaving emptiness.

A small cuboid shape of white is coming to save the day, it appears in front of you with its googly eyes with no worries of the world surrounding them. 'it must be nice', you think.

"HIIIIIIIIKHHHHEEEE!!!"

The white cube expands to the same size of the ape as he shows his serrated happy teeth. Again, trying to tell you that 'it will be fine'. The Calamity is delivering its hurled strike into your savior.

With no moment to think, the giant white retracts his jaw to chomp down the primal monkey, even though the force is strong but the zombie muscle of the mighty ape is sturdier and rougher. Coated by crimson clouds, the ape tears the jaw of white open into a naked centerfold, revealing the indescribable inside of your companion. The cube is trying his best to close his own jaw to grind the meat of those who are hostile to you. It ended with a heavy strike into the core of your new friend.

The fluid and the dark green gelatin is being flung everywhere into the vicinity. You watch the scene as it unfolds.

Stress: 458%

Horrid, your eyes can't believe what you've just seen, and your heart misses its heartbeat as the blood it delivers runs cold.

For a person, it's their heart. For a warrior, it's their faith. The ape has run amok once again, boiling your blood in a hellfire of anguish and hatred. Goyang might only be on your side for a few hours but despite its need to feel pain, the critter has sympathy and caring emotion as he tries his best to smile for you. So pathetic, you have the urge to pay back the kindness but now you can't. You can't even prevent the death of a stupid, masochistic, dumbass cuboid square.

Stress: 1,289%

It feels bitter, it feels sour. This feeling, all of the pain accumulated, the future that will never come.

You spite it all.

Stress: 6,999%

Acid, it's acid, phytochemicals, tannins, heat, burning desire, a blender, and spite. The acid is running through your veins and the bloodstream is now sour. It washes and washes the impurities inside your body and your mind. The Chrolings notice this and amplify the wave to help it further—a new realm has opened within your mana sea.

'Stress requirement has been reached.'

'Initiating the lemonade, access confirmed.'

You used the acidic blood cell as the ingredients for the 'Blood Bending Virus'. The sourness amplifies the mana conductivity for the vessel, making it more aggressive and effective. The mass production has commenced.

'Blood Bending Sour Virus' acquired.

Using all the strength that has been left within your fragile body, you seek out the nearest pillar-like object as you barely avoid the strike of the ape, searching for insurance if your plan is foiled. Anchoring your footing by drilling the ground and branching the roots into the soil with blood, you wait for the next strike to land.

10% Ashura Body Array.

The crimson arm of the ape connects with your punch. Then again, why a punch? It's not complicated, it's all just a hint of mocking fate, life, and Fortune.

Painful and firm, overclocking the infected blood with a more dense mass to help you stand on equal footing as the Calamity. The bone breaks and the blood is being grinded, spilling all over the place.

"HURRRAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!"

More, you want more time, adrenaline is coursing with every stalling. Despite the ridiculous move and situation, it's all been your plan from the start of the blendering.

Sending a thousand 'Blood Bending Sour Virus', neither new nor dried blood can resist the temptations of joining your parade of mortal massacring; all of them are striving for vengeance for their former owner.

The perpetrator must pay! The dissector of flesh and wound shall be circumcised from head to toe until there is no more hate dripping from the skull of the fallen.

In an instant the whole battlefield is now your ally, your blood, and your body. With no more strength to compete with the giant hulk of mass of the monstrosity, your last resisting muscle gives in. 10% of the blood from the battlefield is rushing into you, replacing the dead muscle caused by the immense stress you did to your body. That has also been your very goal. You might not believe in superstition, but you believe in your intuition.

The better the pain, the bigger the stress, the more acidic your vein is.

With no effort at all, you manage to outplay the Calamity in terms of raw strength. Blood is thicker than water, and with the help of the new type of virus, the infected blood's flexibility is immensely increased—by that means the magnetic force field and also the sheer mass of acceleration it can generate.

"Stupid Chronos, this isn't a spell chant at all."

'The Lamentor has come to conjure her hidden razor'.

You're engulfed and lose your vision in the haze of 'Dopamine'. A wide manic smile is etched into your face.

Prideful, the ape won't tolerate any defeat as it rushes once more into your direction.

You manipulate the blood to hover half a meter from the ground into the air, feinting to attack as you go into the front of the ape's skull and bash the hell out of it. The Calamity flinches, you conjure a giant spear of blood into the savage's mouth, giving the sinner a bloody deepthroat. Reminiscing your former pain, you scramble the blood into the dirty new-friend-killer's whole body and bloat the organs and tissues from inside, rupturing him completely.

Once again the miasmic haze appears but you won't stand still this time. Conjuring a fast spinning cyclone of blood, you trap the beast inside as the sharp winds shred and shake away all the haze. Rushing in, you grab the handle of the sword that is using the beast neck as its pedestal. Smashing sideways, you decapitate that morbid obese of an ass chime degenerate into the land where no sun is shining—the death, you're hoping a painful death for the beast you're torturing.

The beast grabs its head and the large broadsword that is formerly sticking end to end on its neck. The hole on the neck reveals a horride spine that moves and prays to the red sky, spewing out the numerous rib-like legs. The appearance of the parasite is almost similar to the garrulous Calamity that is chasing you into this god-forsaken trap.

Instead of fear and irritation, your veins are filled with joy.

Using the infected blood to move your body; you raise both of your pinky fingers into the front, then tilting it into one and another. Can't help but smilling with content, you begin to chant the stupid spell, "The world is my lemonade, within my lemon veins, and my heart's a lemon grenade—"

Still in 'spite', you changed the last sentence of the spell.

"TO BRING YOU MY HELLISH APOCALYPSE!"