Jack rose to his feet as a brilliant crimson glare radiated from the distance. He could feel the vile, cold, heart-palpitating aura seeping into the air.
Instinctively, he knew whoever was facing that was in serious trouble.
He shifted his gaze to a pair of shivering evolvers staring at the illumination with terror-stricken faces. He warned the two:
"Leave this place immediately, or you’ll be caught in the crossfire."
He didn’t need to repeat himself. The two scaled humanoids instantly dashed into a frantic sprint toward the opposite direction.
Turning back to the glare of light, Jack’s fists tightened, blood-colored runes igniting across his bandaged thick arms.
Crouching, he launched forward in a streaking leap, ready to reinforce if necessary.
From the other side, both Elaine and Uriel exchanged a glance, nodding in silent understanding. Without hesitation, both departed toward the commotion with the same intentions in mind.
...
On Seth’s end...
The crimson flare of the cursed gaze sank directly into his formless frame.
The Shadow Curtain ability failed to shield him completely. A trace of sanguine force settled into his being, forcing his body back into a corporeal state. His vitality plummeted faster than his falling body.
Sharp, agonizing hisses rang out as the poisonous curse wreaked havoc within him. The bronze cells in his genetic makeup finally met their bane.
Seth let out a guttural groan as his skin flaked and cracked, fresh blood welling from the injuries. His lungs spasmed, leaving him choking on his own breath.
One by one, a searing sting coursed through his organs, like a million needles piercing his innards. Seth endured the worst pain imaginable.
Yet he clung to a shred of clarity, activating Wildlock. His frame recklessly accumulated momentum as gravity pulled him down, his descent accelerating.
If he landed against solid earth in this state, he would survive—but his injuries would worsen.
Activating Shadow Walk, the earth bubbled as streams of formless shadows swirled into a gate leading into the shadow realm.
He sank seamlessly into it, his vision darkening as the cool embrace of the formless sea of shadows welcomed him.
Still partially paralyzed by the curse’s damaging currents, Seth struggled to gather himself.
Meanwhile, in the air, after striking Seth, a satisfied grin spread across Vamel’s face. Watching Seth fall back into the shadow realm like a kite with cut strings, he felt vindicated.
All his accumulated resentment was sated. He glanced at his palm as the lotus dimmed, its petals closing back into a bud. The Weeping Lotus sank into his body for nourishment.
Now he faced a dilemma: should he press the advantage or continue to flee?
Seeing Seth vulnerable stirred awake the greed that had been curbed by fear.
Staring at the pool of shadows, he considered his options and glanced at the timer.
[Time left: 39s]
Judging by Seth’s prowess, recovery from this attack would take a few seconds. Once that happened, he would have an enraged, vengeful Seth on his heels.
And with that infuriating space-folding ability, catching up to Vamel—no matter the head start—wouldn’t be a problem.
Now he was out of cards. A furious Seth on his heels... how long could he last?
Glancing at the timer again, he grimaced. "Damn it, attack is the best defense now, isn’t it?" he growled, determination flashing in his eyes. His frame dove straight down toward the earth.
Besides, a battle in the shadow realm wasn’t necessarily disadvantageous—especially since Seth was in no state to lay an ambush.
...
Back in the lightless pool called the shadow realm, a pair of purple eyes snapped open.
Essence surged through Seth’s being as he overcame the devastating currents of sanguine. Bursting open his nodes, he felt an ethereal release.
Gasping heavily, Seth used his Will for introspection, scanning his body for damage and glancing at his vitality stats.
[Vitality: 638/799]
He exhaled in relief. "The Shadow Curtain wasn’t useless after all..." he thought, clenching his fists as sharp stings coursed through damaged nerves.
Though not completely avoiding the attack, his formless state had mitigated most of the damage, reducing the percentage from 70% to 20%.
His bronze cells entered a rapid recovery state, his body emitting a faint simmer of deep bronze—extremely visible in the shadow realm’s environment.
Exposed to a new form of energy, the bronze cells began to rapidly adapt and... assimilate?
"Huh?" Seth blinked, confused, feeling the predatory bronze cells feeding off the lingering remains of the sanguine force.
Thinking it through, he concluded, "Assimilation can be a form of adaptation, I suppose..."
But his thoughts halted abruptly as he sensed a new presence entering the shadow realm.
Eyes blazing purple, he turned toward the fast-approaching aura.
His gaze hardened. It seemed his opponent had come to press on a non-existent advantage.
"Good. Makes things easier," he murmured coldly. Dark streaks coiled around his blades as he moved, feigning retreat to lure his foe.
...
"Hm?" Vamel’s eyes lit up as he sensed movement. His lips curled, eyes flashing with sinister intent.
"I might have underestimated him after all. A little damage and he turns into a fleeing rat." Gaining confidence, Vamel wasted no time pursuing the trail.
With his prey’s weak aura and sluggish speed, Vamel’s smile widened. It seemed the Weeping Lotus had inflicted more damage than expected.
Holding his saber, he prepared his second class skill, Shadow Avatar, ready to overwhelm Seth with sheer numbers.
But then, realization struck. Why did his opponent’s weak aura seem so controlled and uniform?
A badly injured evolver should struggle to channel or organize essence. So why was—
His pupils constricted. "A TRAP!" he snarled, his essence snapping violently in reply. A shadow portal spiraled open behind him. But before he could act, it was too late...
He was already within range.
"Death Sentence!" a cold, haunting voice whispered, carrying an explosion of essence so dark and chilling that the Weeping Lotus’s nether force seemed like a pale imitation.
An essence beyond a curse—the embodiment of death itself—descended upon him.
His eyes bulged as a knight clad in Gothic black armor drifted into view.
Fear coursed through Vamel’s veins, a chill creeping up his spine. He panicked, struggling to move.
Clank!
A pillory snapped shut, clamping down on his arms and neck.
A broadsword rose. "W-wait, plea—"
Before he could finish, the blade descended. Gritting his teeth, a bloom of green flared through the void. All three vitality-related gene skills burst alive.
His body pumped with so much vitality that decapitation alone shouldn’t have been enough.
But staring into those cold, heartless purple orbs gleaming beneath the visor of his executioner, Vamel saw only the finality of his existence.
An unbelievable surge of pain coursed through his being. His vision flipped, his sight dimmed.
"No..." he breathed faintly, feeling the boundless force meant to revitalize him dissolve into nothing—along with his consciousness.