Re:Cursed

Chapter 149 147: Ly͚sy͚rã

"Or is that just a really bad sweat problem?" Lysyra's eyes carried deep amusement, even as her lips feigned curiosity. "Must be horrible if you have to lock them away in those awful things."

Nyxila stepped back. One foot slid involuntarily behind the other before she put a stop to such a display of admission. Her hand clenched, casting a groaning creak from the metal of her blade's grip.

She knew Lysyra had seen her feet covered in sludge back in the Null Scar, but the girl had done nothing with that knowledge. Nyxila had hoped she'd dismissed it. To one who doesn't know what they were looking at, the foot she'd seen could easily be dismissed as any one of the oddities that permeate the cults. It wasn't like Nyxila's feet had lost their shape at that point.

Maybe Lysyra had dismissed it… until she'd picked up Nyxila's feather.

Now, the Bodytwister acolyte stared across the amphitheatre with sharp eyes. Lysyra knew she'd found something. Whether she knew what that something was… the question left Nyxila frozen in indecision.

"That's-" Nyxila began, only to be interrupted.

"Shh," Lysyra hissed, her mouth once again not moving with the sound that came from her. She gestured to the crowd above. "The ritual stops them hearing us, but I wouldn't put it past some cultists from reading lips." She quirked her own. "And I'm sure you wouldn't want that."

Nyxila glared. She wanted to leap forward and drive her blade through the girl and end the fight already, but Lysyra would simply teleport away. It was frustrating.

Sneering, she relented and spoke with her tongue. If the girl opposite her had a way to speak without moving her mouth, then it shouldn't be strange for her to do so.

"That's a feather from my summon." She tried. It was the most obvious explanation she could come up with right after fighting Grifvoi and his mount.

Lysyra didn't buy it. With a laugh, she raised the feather again. "You keep a bird under your robe?"

The girl disappeared. Nyxila spun, but not before her opponent tapped her back, right over her bound wings. The blade sliced through her effortlessly.

"Definitely doesn't feel strange," Lysyra hummed, back in her original position. "No bird hiding under there. But then where could this feather have come from? What could you be hiding?"

The fake curiosity layered with her knowing smirk tugged at Nyxila's nerves. Lysyra knew too much. That was all but clear, and the girl knew Nyxila couldn't ignore it.

"What do you want?" Her tongue spoke through grit teeth.

The grin widened ever so slightly across her face before she vanished.

"I am oh, so, curious…" Lysyra's words reached her even before the girl regained her form behind Nyxila. Her grin, gone. "Not many know what was truly down there. I do. That thing didn't just trip over itself and die. You killed it. I want to know how." She twisted on Nyxila, eyes intense and without the earlier humour.

Lysyra stepped within range of her rapier, but not a single strike had been successful so far; why would this one? Instead, she held the Bodytwister's eye. She wasn't about to give away information that freely. It would only be used against her.

"Nobody was supposed to learn what happened down there," Lysyra snarled. "But you just had to go and announce it was my fault to all the cults."

Again, she teleported, showering Nyxila in white motes. She reappeared a few steps back, the intense scowl dropped as the girl took a deep breath. Opening her eyes, they were filled with sinister amusement again.

"N̪ỷx̱ila, you are hiding a lot more than some feathers and wet feet. If you don't want everyone on Coral to know — and I know how little you want those mutations known — then tell me how you killed the Eternal Pharaoh."

Slipping free from her control, Nyxila's heart involuntarily thumped faster. Lysyra really knew. Having that slapped in her face left her concerns and anxiety to run wild, taking her heart along for the ride.

She knew about Sekhhath'Ra. She knew about her mutations.

What else did the Bodytwister acolyte know? Did her knowing anything more even matter when she was aware of what Nyxila was most desperate to hide?

In a stroke of frustration, she threw her blade. Lysyra's haughty laugh reached her long before the girl disappeared.

Nyxila had believed the Null Scar disaster was more of an effort by the high creed Bodytwisters, and Lysyra had simply been stuck following their orders… but if she knew, then the disaster wasn't on them. It was all on her.

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But why?

That question bounced around in her accelerated mind for what felt like forever. Now that she considered it, there was so much around Lysyra that was questionable.

Why had she killed those Bodytwisters back in the Null Scar? Their bodies had been splattered; such deaths were more brutal than the rest of the traps the other contestants faced. Was that intentional? Better to let their acolytes die quickly than face the pharaoh?

Then why let them die at all? If they knew about the antipathy of life that slumbered down there, then why not tell their own members to not enter the Harbinger Trials? The other cults would be enraged with them regardless of how obvious they were.

It was also incredibly odd that Lysyra hadn't told anyone about Nyxila's mutations. Even now, she went through the effort to keep her words undetectable, opting for whatever method she had to speak without speaking. If she had told anyone in the Bodytwisters, she wouldn't care about what happened so some dangerous creature in a Null Scar; she'd be dragging Nyxila off for a sacrifice.

Assuming her elders didn't do it themselves.

And there was her teleportation. Lysyra had two indecipherable names at the third evolution. If one was teleportation, then what did the other do?

Nyxila gripped her blade tighter for comfort and soothed her heart. Her opponent had stopped attacking, waiting for her reply, but that didn't mean she was in any less a battle that could end in either of their deaths. Lysyra hadn't asked for her surrender, so that meant only one thing. She had no intent to leave Nyxila alive.

That feeling was reciprocal.

"What can I say." Nyxila finally calmed herself down. If Lysyra already knew her secret, then there was little reason to hold back. "S̥e͔kh̃h̃a̱ͬtͣh'Rͦ̏҉̵͕ả had a lot of accumulated curses. It was as simple as… lighting the fuse."

To accentuate her words, she reached into the Bodytwisters soul, and unleashed whatever curse she found. For one as young as Lysyra, she was building a dangerous collection.

Wavering vision. Inexplicable paranoia. Most were small inconveniences, but one was far larger than the rest. A single curse held more corruption than any of the rest… and yet it held no form. It was not yet complete. The lingering resentment slow to converge within her soul.

It did nothing upon Nyxila's touch.

Not wasting a second, she capitalised on the sudden disorientation of her opponent. Nyxila dashed forward, and in a smooth thrust, drove her rapier through the side of Lysyra's head.

Again, it resulted in nothing but a burst of white mist.

A groan reached Nyxila's ears, but when she turned, Lysyra was further than her voice indicated. "What did you do?" The Bodytwister held her head steady, but no matter the effort, her eyes didn't settle.

"I told you, didn't I?" Nyxila mirrored the girl's earlier arrogance. "I opened your curses."

"But I still had a few days before they were supposed to trigger."

"That doesn't matter to me." Nyxila shrugged. "Say, the Bodytwisters didn't organise that slaughter, did they? That was you… or at least your idea, wasn't it?"

The way Lysyra's head snapped to her had Nyxila grinning.

Paranoia is horrible when you've got things to hide, she mused. At least now it's clear I'm not the only one.

In an instant, Nyxila was assaulted with a barrage of Lysyra's appearing one after the other, each with a dagger aimed for some vulnerability. Neck, heart, below the ribs. All came quick, and while she was given only the slightest of instances to react, Nyxila fended off the girl's onslaught.

Lysyra was dangerous, but the longer this fight went on, the more she realised that the Bodytwister lacked significant fighting capabilities. Her blows were strong, but not significantly greater than a human's base strength. With each dodge, or deflection with her own blade, Nyxila learnt her patterns.

She relied entirely on her ability to surprise her opponent. There was a fighting style below it, but it was unrefined. Nyxila felt like she was fighting a serpent that knew to strike with venom and nothing else. Beyond targeting points of vulnerability, the girl had no strategy.

It was a weird thing to say considering her only teacher was a Talent, but Lysyra felt untrained. How was that possible? She was the Bodytwister Champion.

A Champion that reflected none of the typical makings of her cult.

Of course, that teleportation was still unbelievably powerful, and with how rapidly she jumped around, Nyxila failed to stop all attacks from breaking skin. Yet that number decreased with each second. Nyxila adapted to the teleportation in a way only someone with her battle-learned experience could.

All too soon, Lysyra was struggling to land a single hit.

Nyxila dragged her rapier through the disappearing body only to jab her hand through the throat of her half appeared form. The blade never stopped moving, and before it could finish its initial swing, it crashed through Lysyra twice more.

The Champion never learnt.

After one too many failures, Lysyra retreated. She stood across from Nyxila, not even slightly drained. Surely she couldn't teleport around forever without growing at least somewhat tired.

"You won't make this easy, will you?" Lysyra said with a sigh. "How about this: forfeit, and I won't tell the world what you're hiding beneath that robe."

Nyxila dismissed her words as a bluff immediately. She didn't want her own secret spouted. Lysyra had avoided retaliation for all the deaths she'd caused because most believed it was the Bodytwisters' fault. If they realised, even at Nyxila's saying so, she faced the risk of having every cult gunning for her death.

Well, It's not like Nyxila was willing to give her the time to think it through.

Her hand reached into her robe and pulled the scroll free. Immediately, she began the associated hymn. Blood that bubbled around her hands soaked the page, fulfilling the sacrificial requirements easily.

Lysyra's eyes narrowed. And she was gone.

Flipping backwards, Nyxila struck her opponent's jaw the exact instant she materialised with outstretched arm. The heavy metal boot broke through the girl's face. Even though she'd timed her kick perfectly, it was still not good enough to land.

This ritual better work. None of my attacks are working.

A dozen more attempts came for the scroll in her hand, but she kept moving. In the short time she'd been fighting Lysyra, Nyxila had discovered the girl struggled to accurately place her translocations when she had to account for movement. It gave her just that little bit more time to react.

Nyxila reached the climax of her hymn, and threw the scroll into the air. It exploded in fire, only to extinguish and grow damp with water. The thick corruption that permeated the chamber immediately reacted.

Her summoning may not be anything like Grifvoi's, but it was her only way to limit — or completely stop — Lysyra's teleportation.

The page exploded again. This time not with fire, but a watery geyser.