ushernet Chapter 756: The Ominous Abomination
Chapter 756: The Ominous Abomination
Chapter 756: The Ominous Abomination
Northern struck. Flashing across the expanse with a trail of light, he became a streak of brilliance, a blade of motion cutting through the stagnant air. His figure blurred, then fractured-splitting into silhouettes of himself, each a mirage of intent, each a ghostly echo of the real. The blade in his grasp howled, vibrating with the force of his charge.
Several hands tore out of the rift guardian's body, writhing like twisted tendrils as they shot toward him, seeking to crush him mid-air. Northern twisted, veering through their grasp with instinctive precision. Maneuvering past them was easy.
Or so he thought-until the next moment proved otherwise.
Walking, he was used to. Even running at impossible speeds, his body and mind remained in perfect sync. But flying? That was a different beast altogether. The moment he had awakened to the ability, it had felt natural, an extension of his will. Yet bending space mid-flight, adjusting his course with the same finesse he had on land, was another challenge entirely. He was fast-too fast. His movements were sharp, but without the necessary control, he found himself overshooting, slipping past his intended trajectory by mere inches.
The hands tore through the wind, relentlessly pursuing him as he curved and twisted through the air. They lashed out, seeking to ensnare him, to drag him back into their crushing grasp. At first, his movements were raw-sharp but imprecise, lacking the balance between speed and control. Yet with each evasion, each sudden burst of motion, he refined his technique.
It took him a moment, but he began to grasp the rhythm of his flight. He wasn't just dodging anymore—he was maneuvering, threading himself through the storm of hands while striking back in turn.
Northern shot straight into the sky, the rift guardian's tendrils lunging after him in a desperate attempt to seize him. The moment they closed in, he suddenly twisted-his body snapping into a rapid descent. He plummeted like a falling star, his sword a streak of silver light as he spun and unleashed a flurry of strikes.
Blades of radiance wove an intricate pattern in the sky, arcs of silver light gleaming against the clear day. His sword danced in seamless strokes, each cut carrying weight, precision, and devastating speed.@@@@
The pursuing hands were severed in droves, tumbling down in writhing pieces-like a butcher carving through meat with skill that bordered on the transcendental.
Northern landed, the force of his descent sending stones flying in every direction. For a moment, the entire space seemed to hold its breath. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was gone -flashing forward in a streak of light. His sword cut through the air, a silver arc of death, and in an instant, he stood before the main body of the rift guardian.
The creature reeled, its form staggering from the relentless onslaught. Its severed hands twitched on the ground, the damage severe enough to force a brief moment of withdrawal.
Before it could react, Northern struck. His blade carved an upward arc, biting deep into the creature's flesh and tearing through it with merciless precision. A sickening spray of maroon blood erupted, gushing out in torrents, drenching both Northern and the ground beneath him. A deafening screech split the air-thick with hatred and malice. The sound vibrated with something primal, something cursed.
Then the metal blade embedded in the creature's eye began to tremble. It shuddered violently, the resonance growing, the very air quivering with the intensity. The sound that followed was like thunder rolling across the clouds, a low, rumbling force that sent shockwaves through the battlefield.
Northern looked up at the creature, his expression darkening.
His body grew cold as that unsettling feeling from earlier came again, plunging his entire body into a cold sea with a mighty and gigantic hand-one he couldn't struggle against, forcing him to stay beneath and drown. That was how unsettling the feeling was.
And yet, he couldn't wrap his mind around it. He just knew something was wrong with this monster that shouldn't be happening to a Maelstrom-a Calamitous Maelstrom at that.
Northern moved. His sword flashed forward with a streak of silver defiance, colliding with the onslaught with lethal precision.
A cacophony of metallic thunder roared through the sky as the two forces met, the impact sending a shockwave rippling outward. Sparks erupted like dying stars, scattering in every
direction.
Northern's teeth clenched. A white-hot agony lanced through his arm, as if his very bones had been fractured by the sheer force of the strike.
His hand-his entire forearm-felt as if it had been shredded from the inside out, nerves
screaming in protest.
For a fleeting second, he thought he could bear it. He had endured worse.
But then his fingers faltered.
His grip failed.
His sword slipped from his grasp, tumbling from his hand and clattering against the ground
with a hollow, ringing echo.
Northern staggered, his breath sharp and uneven. He bent forward, his trembling hand
clutching at itself, trying to suppress the involuntary spasms wracking through his arm.
'Grrhh... shit! What the hell is this?!'
The pain intensified, becoming a merciless torment that burrowed deeper, as though unseen fangs were rending his muscles apart from within.
His entire body quivered beneath the tumultuous pressure of the impact. It wasn't just his hand—it was his whole frame, trembling as though caught in an unseen vice.
He couldn't even straighten himself.
And the blade-cold, merciless, implacable-was already circling for another strike.