Chapter 114 - Attack Of The Bloodlusted
"Dunkel: Slicer -- Times Ten."
An array of dark lines extended through the air, once landing against the creature\'s body it was diced into a bloody mess without putting up any fight. As each chunk of the water-dwelling creature rained back into the depths it came from, the anger came off of Goldheve like steam, fuming at the sight of the battle robbed from him.
"This room was piss-easy compared to the rest, wasn\'t it?"
"--"
Goldheve fell silent, keeping his back turned to Ren as a drawn-out breath hissed from his lips. As his arms fell limp at his sides, still holding onto his jagged blades which met with no victims--he turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting with Ren.
"You want to be recognized as "strong", do you not? Maybe you\'ve forgotten...What I\'ve come here for. This is a proving ground for the strongest--those who hold the highest conviction, strength, skill--I don\'t care whether it is a monster or human here, if they\'re strong--I\'ll fight them. You\'re just prey."
It was the one thing he had feared the most since meeting the shaggy-haired man. Feeling that oozing bloodlust, pouring out from all of his pores as his voice carried the same deadpan tone--all directed at him, Ren felt like shrinking away.
"--I was just messing around. You\'ve taken all of the action since we paired up so I…"
It was too late, the man had already set his sights on this becoming a battle, slowly turning his body around as he faced Ren, his dark pupils dilating as his eyelids didn\'t shut a single time.
"I don\'t want to fight you, Goldheve. Please."
A fact that he had known this entire time, since the moment he laid eyes on Goldheve, finally came to a full realization as he watched the man ready his blades.
--He\'s insane. That\'s what a place like this attracts--complete lunatics who can\'t see reason. The moment I showed any semblance of strength, his animalistic nature set itself on me.
"This is the consequence of being strong. Stand proud."
Perspective came to him, this time seeing through the eyes of the countless creatures Goldheve had slain. He was now on the receiving end of those exhilarated eyes and the ear-to-ear smile he displayed to those he planned to introduce his blades to.
"--Come on! Stop playing around already!"
Desperation had overtaken Ren\'s voice as he watched Goldheve approach with his slow, methodical pace.
If the act of battle was sustenance for Goldheve, then Ren had challenged the authority of the alpha pack leader—taking his meal from within the clasps of his jaw.
"You really don\'t know anything about this place, do you? There is a lot more than just clearing floors, in hopes of some "blessing". Killing you isn\'t just about satisfaction--there is value in it. If you manage to actually beat me, by some miracle, you\'ll learn what I\'m talking about."
"--"
There was no other choice but to fight, even so--Ren was hesitant to experience the sensation of rending human flesh. He was unsure of what truly brought upon this hesitance, but just the thought of it caused his grip to shake.
Goldheve wasn\'t one to wait around, wasting no time to begin the dance of blood as he swept his saw-like sword towards Ren\'s face, missing as the young man ducked down, rolling under the blade and around his opponent.
"Stop--!"
He could hardly get another word in before having to block the next strike with Belus. The clash of steel manifested a rain of sparks, holding back Goldheve\'s overwhelming tenacity with one hand.
--I don\'t want this. I don\'t want to do it. Someone, something, I don\'t care what it is, just stop this!
For a moment, he had forgotten about the second blade his opponent held--forcing him to catch it with his own hand as it tore through the palm of his glove, straight into his flesh. As the blood-hungering man attempted to retract the held blade, Ren tightened his grip, causing the ruthless, jagged edges to sink into his hand further.
The look on Goldheve\'s face was that of a dumbfounded man, not realizing the strength Ren held as he was unable to retrieve the blade from his iron grip. As he pulled, the edges pulled against the flesh they were buried in, leaving a fall of crimson to meet the stone below.
"Promise you\'ll stop and I\'ll let go."
A voice devoid of the heated emotions he should display in the heat of battle met Goldheve, as the blank look in Ren\'s eyes begged for him to stop this.
"Like hell, I will! I underestimated you! I was waiting for you to tire yourself out, but it looks like I\'ll actually get a real fight out of this!"
With a vicious, cackling laughter, the black markings returned to Goldheve\'s body as a heat emitted from his body.
--"Eight Vasus: Agni".
Ren recalled the technique, feeling the predicted flames burst out from the blade he held, the newly manifested embers tearing away at his hand from within.
--I won\'t do it, Meinhard. I won\'t become the same type of person that did that to you. If I don\'t have to, if there is absolutely another option, no matter how offset it is--I\'ll avoid it at all costs. Crossing that line...It\'s something I would like to avoid if possible.
As it is, I\'m already hanging onto the threads that connect me to who I was, who I\'ve always been.
Who will I become if I strike down another person? Will my value of one\'s life diminish? Will how I perceive those I care about change? I don\'t want to find out.
The persistent fire burnt away at his hand, reducing his glove to nothing but fragments of what used to be leather.
--I\'ll let it happen. It\'s not so bad anyway, I\'ll just make my way back here. Just get it over with, Goldheve. Compared to dying by that bull, I\'ll take a swift death by sword any day of the week.
There was no longer any passion residing within Ren, apparent to Goldheve who bore an enraged look on his face as the fight he yearned for left him only with a vacant boy.
"Disappointing. If that\'s what you want, then fall!"
Goldheve reared his blade back from Belus\' steely resistance, lifting it into the air as he looked down at the young man for a moment, who seemed to have no plans of evading the strike. The moment the harsh steel met his body, everything had faded.