Re:Cursed

Chapter 147 145: The Meticulously Engineered Rematch

Nyxila should have expected something like this.

Her arms were in constant motion, deflecting the countless attacks, while her feet touched ground only long enough to kick herself into another flip or dodge. They kept her unsettled. Only a heart thumping faster than should be possible and veins on fire kept her alive.

Grifvoi had discovered the weakness of her rhythm in her first fight against him. Of course he would come prepared. That was the part she was expecting; that path of timing his movements to interfere with her method of attack.

What she hadn't expected, was for the Scriptures to bind a creature of such significant strength to the boy. Even if he was their Champion.

The summoned horse had three times as many evolutions as he did. Sixth tier, her senses estimated. To subjugate a being to a soul so much weaker than its own would not only have been an expensive use of resources, but also brought immense risks. Why would they go so far?

Nyxila tried desperately to grasp any semblance of a beat to her motions. She synced her song to the clatter of boots on glass. It almost seemed to work… until a stinger slapped the sole of her foot an instant earlier than she would have liked, and her harmony shattered again.

To tie this being under Grifvoi's will, the Scriptures would have used a not-insignificant number of sacrifices. Human sacrifices.

And that wasn't even the worst of it. A second evolution soul simply lacked the foundational strength to support the bond. They'd obviously made up for that with ritual and resources, but they were still grinding a larger soul up against a smaller one and hoping for the best.

Best case scenario? The beast broke free and caused havoc. That would be much more ideal for Grifvoi than the other option, where the steed's soul cut an opening into his and the Scripture Champion was suddenly not so in control of himself.

Either way, its escape was inevitable.

She wouldn't go so far as to say it was sabotage — so long as the Scriptures continued to fund the boy's growth — but it was certainly an expensive decision that would only increase the risk that they would lose their champion entirely. And for what? So Grifvoi could beat her, only for the other contestant to teleport past the creature's defences and stab him through the heart?

Nyxila had another attempt to regain her rhythm thwarted, but this time she could no longer fend off every attack. A single spear broke her guard first. It brushed past her neck, scraping a hair's breadth over her skin. It might have been only one, but it was the one to rupture the dam.

Her heart thumped faster than a thought could cycle in her mind, yet it wasn't fast enough.

Immediately, she was overwhelmed. That breach of her guard put her on the trailing edge, and she couldn't catch up. Suddenly, for every two she deflected or dodged, three struck clean. Her backward pedalling left most as superficial scratches, but her luck would only last so long.

With a frantic slap of her wrist, she knocked a spear out of the path of her head. Instead of drilling a hole through her skull, it scraped along her chitin until the sharp tip met skin. It sliced over her elbow and half-way up her bicep. Blood immediately pooled around her arm.

Another scratch.

Nyxila would lose or die if this kept up. Both were as bad as the other. She needed to change something, to calm down and think her way out of this.

But there was no time for that.

With little more thought than she needed to change her approach, Nyxila leapt forward. Right into the charging stallion. Her sudden, instantaneous shift in momentum caught the beast off-guard. Dozens of bony spears pierced the air behind her.

Unfortunately, that momentary imbalance ended all too soon, and Nyxila found herself in an even more precarious position, with stingers both ahead, and behind.

Nyxila threw herself along the ground, demanding O̅ssuqul slip her past the worst of the onslaught. It refused, having offered the safety of its phasing all too recently. Nyxila didn't listen. She forced the name to do what it was told, and as her body slipped through space, she felt the fury of the natural and snapped back with her entire body feeling like it had just been through a press.

Better than being a pincushion.

She swung her blade with all the force she could muster. Metal struck bone with a dull twang, and when she pulled away, she found one shattered bone, with a hundred more that made the underbelly of this beast untouched.

And, like with Grifvoi's armour, the green flames immediately set to repair the damage.

Nyxila slid along glass, but she was not yet out of danger. A solid mass of ivory that took on the appearance of a hoof rocketing downwards with the full force of its body. She tried to roll. She tried to knock the burning mass of bones off-target. But she wasn't quick enough, and the burning creature was even heavier than it looked.

The hoof struck the side of her chest, immediately shattering ribs and sending her sprawling.

Agony called on her to curl in and cradle herself. It wanted her to still, so the pain wouldn't grow further. But Nyxila had long since learnt that only made things worse.

Despite her battered body screaming complaints at her, she threw herself to her feet and ran. From the corner of her eye, she caught the outraged expressions of the Bodytwisters, eerily silent since the ritual began.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

The amount of support the Scriptures had given Grifvoi was likely banned, or frowned upon, but after what the Bodytwisters had pulled, none of the other cults cared.

Grifvoi was quick to notice Nyxila barrelling towards him. He jerked into a defensive stance. There was no mistaking the intent in her eyes. She was going for the kill.

Nyxila needed his death to trigger her Feat. She'd been caught unaware, and now her body was in a precarious state that would make taking down Lysyra all the harder. Striking down Grifvoi quickly was now the only way she'd win. Nothing else could distract her.

So much so, that when Lysyra appeared with a blade to her face, she didn't stop. Nyxila did the bare minimum to survive and keep going, even as the dagger sliced through her eye.

A half-hearted swing of her own knife was all it took to make the girl disappear.

While she could hear the loud hammering clops of the beast as it closed in behind her, Nyxila found her rhythm again. Her pace immediately accelerated. O̅ssuqul flexed each muscle just slightly more than they should, putting more force through her feet and adding tension to her arm, reading to snap forward with her thrust.

Nyxila reached Grifvoi within the span of a blink. Only the flames burning in place of his eyes followed her movements, but even they fell behind. He raised his halberd. The intent was obvious: divert the strike going for his head. Defence was all he cared about.

But she wasn't going for his head.

With only subtle nudging from her Talent, Nyxila's body language and stance had all but entirely been devoted to striking the boy through the eye. It was a faint, but one that wouldn't lose any momentum with a second motion.

Nyxil thrust. Her rapier slipped below the rising edge of the polearm, and ran a course straight for Grifvoi's heart. Both green candleflames in his sockets shrunk to pinpricks in an instant, realising too late.

Blade struck bone. Not the gap between ribs, but dead on. Nyxila took on the armour's challenge, and won. Bone shattered.

The blade pierced Grifvoi's heart.

Her hand came to a dead stop, rapier unable to drive through the back of his armour, but the deed had been done. Grifvoi would die. Nyxila would be healed by her Feat.

…Except the Feat didn't activate. Grifvoi didn't die.

Grunting, he pushed himself forward and crashed his fist across Nyxila's face.

Pain flared through her jaw. She fell backwards, stunned more by his continued motion than the punch. Grifvoi looked pained. He coughed blood, but otherwise stood strong. Nothing indicated he was teetering on the edge of death, as he should be.

This wasn't right.

Nyxila hadn't yet hit the ground when she forced her legs to snap under her again. It was awkward, but she regained control. She immediately launched back at her opponent.

Her fist struck the hilt of the blade. Bone shattered behind Grifvoi as the blade was run fully through his chest. Still, he remained upright. That wouldn't stand. Nyxila wailed on him. Her next fist struck his free arm, knocking the halberd across the amphitheatre. Another three pelted his jaw, chest, and side. Each cracked bone.

She was doing damage, but not enough. Her hand wrapped around her rapier, pulled it out with a splatter of blood, and moved to drive it through the underside of his jaw. If his heart didn't kill him, then severing the brain-stem certainly would.

The opportunity never came. As soon as Nyxila pulled her arm back to thrust, she was battered in the side and thrown clear.

Tumbling along the ground, it was a challenge to get her feet under her again. Her body protested. Her heart ached. Regardless, Nyxila would accept nothing but the continuation of battle.

Nyxila panted. She bounced on her toes even though it would be much easier to fall still. With space between them, she took the time to assess.

The equine summon stood where she had only a second ago. Its hundred stingers flared wildly. Turning, it faced her. Grifvoi grunted, clutching his chest with one hand and leaned against his steed with the other.

They both noticed the blood at the same time.

Flowing through the cracks of his armour, crimson life spilled not down his chest to the glass below, but to Nyxila. It trickled like a stream. Slowly, blood escaped Grifvoi's veins and fought off gravity to reach Nyxila.

The liquid added to what already surrounded Nyxila. It was already far beyond what her robe could soak up and hide. Blood — both her own and Grifvoi's — curled around her arms in embrace. It bubbled around her impaired eye. Insubstantial forms appeared through the flow as it coiled around her chest, not like that of a flowing river, but a school of fish rising above the waves.

The ability was eye-catching, yet still offered no benefit in a fight.

Grifvoi swiped at the blood that left his chest, as if insulted by its betrayal. It didn't care. Even as it was splattered across the bone of his armour, and across the glass floor, his blood still found its way towards Nyxila.

The Scripture champion looked unsettled by the slow drain he could do nothing against. He coughed again. More blood spilled through the air. Even if she hadn't managed to kill him with that blow, she'd pierced his lung at the very least.

With a heave, he pulled himself upon his mount. There was no saddle, but the flaming bones almost seemed to bind to one another, holding him in place.

Nyxila cringed at the daunting sight. He should be dead. Now, he had joined with the beast that countered her public abilities completely. There would be no more slipping past the summon to strike the vulnerable champion.

If only she could use her mutations. She would prune those dancing spears and end this with ease. Having to hold back was frustrating.

Grifvoi adjusted uncomfortably as his mount trot sideways, facing down Nyxila. He caught her eye, and chuckled. Cut short quickly by a pained grunt.

"You're the same as last time," he gloated. "Always going for head and heart. Knowing that, I opted for some… surgical preparations."

Nyxila glared. What did that even mean? Had he moved his heart somewhere else?

The mount reached the fallen halberd and with a few stingers, flicked it up for Grifvoi to catch. She'd seen them going for it, but for now, it had been too dangerous to stop them.

The air shifted and Nyxila twisted. A blade sliced through her back, only to get stuck in her raised spines. She caught Lysyra's wrist, but before she could drive her rapier through the girl, she disappeared again.

At least this time she learnt that just touching the girl wasn't enough to trigger her teleportation. Nyxila… wasn't yet sure how that was helpful.

Her body wavered. Nyxila took a step, but stumbled. The cut was deeper than she'd thought. It dug right through the bottom of her wing, and into the muscle of her back. The wound was bad.

Nyxila barely kept her feet. Her eyes twitched, looking for an opportunity. If things kept going as they were, she would either die, or be forced to reveal things she didn't dare.

She'd taken too many wounds. She could feel her body failing even as she stood. Muscles strained. Joints locked. Her sight narrowed, each of her opponents suddenly becoming clear. They stood out like lights in a dark hall compared to their surroundings.

Grifvoi and his beast charged.

Her feet slid into position. The blade in her hand stilled, ready.

It was odd. Nyxila felt like her body was about ready to fall apart, yet her movements were smooth. Her pounding heart stung in her chest, but the aches no longer sent shivers down her arms. Suddenly, her body had calmed. Each of her senses locked in. She hyperfocused on the living. Everything else faded away.

Nyxila had persevered through the near impossible challenge. Her body survived with severe injuries.

But now, her soul ached for slaughter.