73 Worthy Opponent

(Negary pov)

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...skin weaving seamlessly, blood vessels rejoining in a delicate dance, organs reforming with meticulous precision—lungs remaining still... stomach...missing, heart unmoving...and the severed halves aligning in a seamless fusion of restoration...

Tendrils of black, mist-like soul energy started extending from the walls, ceiling, and floor, resembling ethereal spikes that pierced into the lifeless puppet, hastening its healing process.

'What a waste of energy' I thought dispassionately, observing the body knitting itself together with incomprehensible speed, in an incomprehensibly ineficient manner.

'It's not leveraging the body's ingrained healing ability...just pumping energy into it until it moves once more. There is also the fact that it's body lacks the extensive mana tempering that my J01 golem possesses.'

I continued to watch the gruesome show, even though I doubted I could learn anything from it. The peculiar voice had fallen into silence some time ago, seemingly content to observe my actions without further commentary.

'It's attempts seemed to only account for my power level being similar to what I showed when fighting the Faceless...it has especially underestimated my perception range...'

Redirecting a portion of my attention upwards, I sensed the veritable cascade of soul energy descending from above. Even if I were bereft of sight, hearing, and reason, this would have outshone the sun in my soul perception... figuratively, of course.

Credit where it's due, though, as the energy approached the House of Black and White, I sensed it growing more diffuse, elusive, like trying to grasp mist with my bare hands. It trickled in-between the stones, meandering through the structure like a subtle river. The oily black rock, saturated with soul energy, added an extra layer of concealment to its elusive nature.

And so, it kept accumulating, forming a kind of ethereal blockade through which a normal soul would find it hard to pass through.

It was a cage, plain and simple, meant to prevent my eventual escape.

'You underestimate my power...' I thought with a small smirk but...

'The logical course of action would be to make a swift exit while the barrier is still weak. The Voice...It most likely realizes that I feel what it is trying to accomplish, even with it's attempts at distracting me' I pondered, my gaze shifting toward the reassembling puppet that had now regained its footing.

'Still, there's more to gain in this place, be it information or combat training. Leaving after gaining such a shallow understanding of what I'm dealing with would be a net loss for me, considering the cards I've already been forced to reveal. And, perhaps more crucially, this so-called "God of death" appears rather underwhelming in terms of abilities...a hypnotic voice controlling a weak berserker-like corpse.

With its abundance of soul energy aside, it's powers don't strike me as formidable. Based on the information I possess right now...It seems like staying here a bit longer, testing some of my theories, might be the more rewarding course of action...Still, sometimes in life, a smart move might lead to a bad end, and a dumb choice could surprisingly catch a stroke of fortune...' 

I saw the puppet finally staggering towards me, its bare feet tapping softly on the cold stone floor, creating an eerie rhythm in the silent hall.

'𝗜 𝗴𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗜 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗹𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻...'

The black blades extending from its hands seemed to have dulled, and small cracks spiderwebbed across its body, a testament to the strain it bore. It appeared as if the once-rigid vessel was now faltering under the weight of the supernatural forces that animated it...

"𝗔 𝘄𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘀𝗮𝗶𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴, 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗮𝗰𝘁 𝘄𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝗱𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗼𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗻𝘁..."

My voice echoed in the emptiness of the hall as the puppet staggered toward me, its steps hesitant, almost as if contemplating escape.

"𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗱𝗼 𝘄𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗻𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀? 𝗜 𝗮𝗺 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘀𝗳𝘆 𝘂𝘀 𝗯𝗼𝘁𝗵..."

I persisted, unsatisfied with the limited dialogue I had squeezed from the Voice.

Still, even as I spoke, most of my attention was glued to the puppet in front of me. The weakness it showed, the fear it's body language conveyed, the dullness of her blades...could fool no one...not with the pulsating power emanating from the void that served as its eyes.

And then, just as I predicted, in all but a single millisecond, she lowered her center of gravity like a lion preparing to pounce. The illusion of vulnerability vanished as she adjusted her stance, shedding the pretense of weakness akin to a snake shedding its skin.

She pushed against the floor with such force that deep cracks spread across the stone as she propelled herself towards me.

With a swift and silent motion, her bladed arms sliced through the air, moving faster than mortal eyes could follow. The blades aimed with deadly precision, seeking to bisect me in a mirror image of the act I had performed on her earlier.

*𝗖𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴*

Alas, a metallic echo reverberated through the hall as the Vessel abandoned her attack, instinctively bringing her obsidian blades in front of her head, desperately attempting to block the advance of a purplish spearhead that seemed to materialize from nowhere. The blades clashed with the ethereal weapon, a tense struggle unfolding between the two forces.

'After all...why would I let myself be eviscerated when the game had only just begun?' 

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A.N -

Like my grandpa used to say, fuck the doubts and fears in the ass without lubrication, for there is no point in stagnanting because of them.