Capítulo 70: Alter Ego
"Here for the package, not your lives." I tell Chance, the hired muscle who stands in my way, "Step aside and you guys get to live."
Chance sneers, her eyes gleaming with contempt towards me. She flexes her claws and responds, "Nice of you to make that offer to me. Too bad those policemen you killed never got the chance to surrender. Yes, I can tell you've killed several people already. Their unjust murders have marked your soul."
I raise the sword, preparing to strike, "And it looks like some idiot wants to become part of the body count. You know what they say about eggs and omelettes?"
Chance assumes a fighting stance and circulates her spirituality, "Save it. I've dedicated my life to dealing with scum like you. You going to actually attack or is shooting people in the back all you can do?"
Not going to rile me up that easily lady. I tense and burst into action, swinging the sword right at Chance's throat. My blade meets sudden resistance and I realize that Chance has blocked my sword with the tips of her claws just before I could decapitate her. I add pressure to the sword and the blade begins to bite into Chance's claws, she flares her spirit and delivers a forceful push against my weapon. I am sent skidding backwards and quickly regain my composure as the core compensates.
"My turn." Chance growls and surges forward like a wave, aiming a blow straight to my heart. Instinct takes over and my arms flick the sword up, its flat parrying Chance's claws with a clash. Before I can take another swing at her, Chance retreats like the receding tide to a safe distance, this time regarding me warily.
That move. I've seen it before. The Hero used while fighting Loli vampire at the manor. How does some random hired muscle have the same move set? Something's wrong. I want to get clarification from The Voice, but with Chance in my face, I can't spare the attention for a separate conversation. If I cannot speak with The Voice, then I'll just have to settle with the next best thing.
"You know Tensei von Amsterg?" I ask.
Chance glowers at me but does not bother responding. If anything, the look on her face becomes even more determined and her spirit core blazes with intensity.
The Voice however picks up on my hint and answers, "Master Chance is one of the Hero's instructors. She has also been hired by Mr Gallant's sister as a bodyguard. Be warned Transmigrator, Mr Gallant's sister and Heroine Naiberg's father are somewhere within this facility. This entire scenario is very likely a set-up to either kill you, entrap you or drive a wedge between you and the Hero."
As I am taken aback by The Voice's revelation, Chance seizes the opportunity to launch another attack against me. Sparks fly as her claws strike my sword and we madly dance around the deserted reception area. Chance is certainly experienced and skilled, but with the powers providing me with theoretically perfect technique, she is finding it difficult to break my guard. My only worry is that the clock will run out on me for this fight. Either the stress builds up too much in Gallant's body or police reinforcements will arrive. I am going to have to take the initiative again soon.
I pump my legs and try to run Chance through with the sword, but she evades my attack again with the same wave like motion. Prepared for her evasive technique this time, I signal the core to speed up my movements while I am still lunging towards Chance. As power surges through my arms, I interrupt my own lunge and convert it into a horizontal slash, trying to bisect Chance as she tries to dodge my blow.
Chance's eyes widen in alarm as the sword's blade strikes her side and her core flares. Instead of seeking to resist my attack, her entire body, suffused with spiritual power, instead goes soft and limp. With no resistance to bite into, the sword's momentum simply bats Chance to the side of the room without doing any real damage. As Chance falls, she expertly performs a roll and forcibly uses her spirit energy to pull herself back up to her feet, her body regaining its previous hardness and solidity.
My eyes blink at this display. Moving like a wave. Not resisting attacks directly. I think I have worked out the gimmick behind this fight.
"Formlessness. That's your actual technique isn't it? Like water, you are not bound to a defined physical shape. That's how you grew those claws of yours." I comment.
Chance scowls at me before nodding, "Yeah, that's right. You worked it out pretty quickly, but that doesn't change anything. Your sword is not going to do jack shit against me. You might as well just give yourself up now."
The Voice abruptly cuts in, "Transmigrator, I am getting very odd readings from Master Chance's spirit core. I have no idea what it represents, but I advise you to end this fight quickly."
Working on it boss man. I nod at Chance's statement and sheathe the sword. Instead of continuing the confrontation, I turn to the package and move towards it. As I am picking up the package, I feel Chance's claws slash into the helmet, impacting futilely against my head, causing me to stagger backwards. I retaliate with an annoyed backhand which feels as if I had punched a lump of plasticine, causing Chance to go harmlessly bouncing backwards. As she gets back up to her feet, she stares at me slack jawed as I pick up the package no worse for wear.
"While I am curious which one of us would eventually kick the other's ass," I say, "I'm working on a tight schedule here. Until next time, Master Chance."
As I turn away from her, instead of attacking me again, Chance instead stands in front of me and bars my path, fury written all over her face. She surges her spirit core again, but this time, I notice the abnormality The Voice had mentioned. Her spirit core contains some sort of impurity that appears like grit before my eyes. The grit had originally been inert, but Chance appears to be infusing her power into the grit and deliberately stirring it up, allowing the grit to enter her spiritual nimbus. As the grit spreads throughout the nimbus, Chance's nimbus loses its original "feel", and I get the sense that something fundamental has changed about her.
The Voice screams in alarm, "An Incarnate! Fate has deployed an Incarnate against us. You must secure the codex and retreat immediately. This is not an opponent that you can overcome."
As I am wondering what in the world The Voice is talking about, the grit has completely permeated Chance's nimbus, giving it a murky, sinister look. Then to my horror, I see red threads sprouting from Chance's spirit core. The thread surges throughout the nimbus, radiating power, all the while held in place by the grit. Chance's presence grows incredibly oppressive, as if a skyscraper is weighing down on me. I have no idea what an Incarnate is, but its obviously not good.
"You lost the moment you met me." Chance pronounces, "I am Violet Chance, Master of the Path of Judgment, descendant of the hero Prince Enma."
Who the hell is Prince Enma? What in the world are you talking about lady?
The red thread quivers as Chance's core surges once more, and emerald flame begins to spill out from the nimbus, spreading hungrily across the floor. I don't bother to wait for Chance to finish what she plans on doing and make a mad dash towards the exit. But the emerald flame lashes out at me with a mind of its own. I barely manage to dodge just in time and as I am retreating from the attack, more streams of flame gather at the room's exits before erupting into massive blazing curtains.
The reception been completely cut-off from the rest of the facility. This looks like a mandatory boss fight, and I suspect that I am badly under leveled here.
"Any ideas?" I whisper urgently to The Voice.
The Voice mumbles feebly, "I do not know. I was not expecting this at all."
Chance begins to slowly walk towards me saying, "Just as Prince Enma judged the guilty and sinful in the Holy Crusade, so shall I judge you today. The Fire of Perdition hungers greatly for your life. You must have sinned greatly against the world."
I snarl and draw the sword with one hand, the other tightly grasping the package.
The fire rises in a vortex around Chance and whirls outward, sweeping the entire room into its embrace. My body screams in pain as the fire washes over me while the core increases its output in sympathy. The glare from the flame gets into my eyes and I am left blinded. I focus, letting the powers locate Chance for me. And I sense her, charging straight at me, closing in quickly. Increasing core output even further, I swing the sword as hard as I can at Chance.
Chance emerges from the fire and blocks the sword with her palms. As blood begins to flow from her hands, she clenches on to the blade tightly and the flame starts up once more. I feel the sword begin to heat up rapidly an before my eyes, the blade melts from the heat being exuded by Chance. As the useless sword hilt and the package fall to the ground, Chance lashes out again, her claws piercing through the helmet once more.
Flame enshrouds my head. It flows throughout the uniform, spreading everywhere. I'm being cooked inside my own disguise. The core surges to a new height, the buzz in my head returning, but the pain is too much. I am losing feeling to my body.
"Submit to judgment." I hear Chance declare.
I want to fight. I want to keep fighting. But I cannot feel my arms.
I want to run. But I cannot feel my legs.
I want to scream, but there is no one to hear me.
But I can still hear. Over Chance's gloating. A voice, not The Voice. And it says -
Finger of the Mountain
Status de energia semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Pedra de
Poder