Prince of The Abyss

”Well... care for a drink?”

The answer was no.

Feeling the poison flow throughout his body, harming his soul, he knew he could keep playing around. Just how was he able to cut him? He shouldn’t have had enough power to do so.

It angered him.

He wound up his fist, which made Aether desperately try and take his sword out. But he couldn’t, Guliot’s muscles had tightened around the blade too much. He couldn’t take it out it out it time.

It was also unfortunate that the sword was tied to him by the chains, so he couldn’t just leave it there and avoid the attack. He also had no idea how to unsummon the relic. Which left only one thing to do.

Aether braced himself as his body made contact him Goliot’s attack, which not only sent his sword flying out of his chest, but also him. And this time, he couldn’t find the ground, flying straight into the concrete wall.

He felt the wall crack as something traveled all the way to his mouth. Putting his hands over it, he tried to keep it inside, but he couldn’t, staining the floor with his blood.

...”Shit.”

He didn’t know one attack would make it so he couldn’t fight anymore. He wasn’t even sure if Azel had been telling the truth. Was she sure this monster was the weakest? He couldn’t... right. He had not lost to the weakest from one attack.

Aether plunged his sword onto the ground, using it to get back up on his feet. But as much as he tried, it seemed like he didn’t have the strength to do so. Maybe because a lot of blood had left his body, but he felt weak.

...

But he wasn’t the only one.

The Ace clenched his chest, his legs trembling beneath him, as he slowly made his way to him. His eyes were bloodshot, and around where his core was, he saw many black lines coming out. But what were they?

Were those his essence threads? They couldn’t... right? If it were true, then the black stuff must be his essence, which either meant they had a high knowledge rank, which wouldn’t make sense, because why could he see them, and why was it this way only around his core?

...

Or this was the effect of a soul attack.

What were they even?...

If he had to guess, soul attacks affected the side of your core that is yourself. While something like a core attack attacks either the whole core or only the affinity. If he had to choose which one, it would be the latter. Because whenever someone is hit by one, their affinities grow weaker. And for it to be the whole core, it would have to also do what the soul attack did.

And he had never seen something like this.

But he was about to die, so why was he even thinking of this?

He took a deep breath, trying to find all the remaining power in his body, and using it to get up on his feet. He felt himself sweat bullets, but it had been worth it. After all, he was up again, and this time he wasn’t stuck. He could run.

But he didn’t have the opportunity.

Just as he got up, he felt a massive force sending him into the air. And then a massive wave of pain. He felt one of his ribs break, but it wasn’t over. If he didn’t catch himself, it would only lead to even more pain.

He tried to catch the floor with his hands, but it only made it so he rubbed the ground with his nails, destroying them until it got to the skin, leaving a trail of blood, as he stopped just before impact.

It hurt like hell. Like he was being pierced by a blade over and over again for eternity. Every breath came out like a shriek. Whenever he moved, his bones gritted against each other, making an awful noise.

But...

The attack seemed weaker than the first. Much weaker. He hadn’t even had a chance to catch himself the first time. But not only did he have the chance. He succeeded with the second.

Now, the question was if he could even survive the third.

Or did he even have to do it? It was a matter of time and endurance; if The Ace fell to the poison, he succeeded. If he didn’t, he would have to endure another attack. And it wasn’t set in stone that Guliot would fall after the third. So in the end, it was a loop.

The Ace’s soul versus his body.

...

And yet he didn’t think he could win.

Aether gritted his teeth, saliva escaping from the cracks of his teeth. But if he looked at Ace, he wasn’t doing so well himself, hardly able to stand. Which was incredible, knowing he had hardly pierced him.

It actually seemed that he might outlast him.

That he would win.

...

Only to watch as all his hope was taken away. He was horrified as the darkness in his threads started to disappear, and his body stopped shaking, allowing him to stand like nothing had happened.

Aether cursed as he saw Guliot look at him... but his expression was one of surprise, which confused him. Wasn’t he going to kill him a second ago... was he also surprised that his wounds had healed?

That had to be it...

”I can’t believe my eyes, is that our beloved Fool. I didn’t expect to see you here. What even happened to you?”

Aether gritted his teeth, confused about what was happening. Was he mocking him? Did he think it was funny? Or did he actually not remember what had happened? It was weird...

”You know... I can kill you, but I won’t, I’m not dressed properly. And it won’t be a fun fight either. So you can just leave.”

Aether blinked twice, dumbfounded.

Was he really going to let him go? But why... he didn’t understand anything! Was it because of his memory? Had he lost it? Did he not remember their fight, their talk before he attacked him?

How was he able to get rid of the poison and go back to the state he was at the beginning of the battle? And then act like he didn’t remember anything.

And was he really going to leave? He couldn’t continue, not now that The Ace was all healed up, and with his body condition... but would he really leave after all the mocking and shamming?

He didn’t want to leave...

...

But even he sometimes had to put his pride in a cage.

He accepted, crawling down the floor; he couldn’t walk, so this was the best thing he could do.

Whenever he reached the first floor, he rested, putting his hand over his eyes. Ashamed to look at himself. At the world he saw, knowing there was no way he could win, and make others see it.

It hadn’t been the first time he had retreated, but this was the worst out of all. He felt ashamed. Knowing he had only survived because of another’s mercy disgusted him. Was he that weak even now?

He had done everything he could do to get stronger... what else could he do? He didn’t have an affinity to help him, nor did he have any abilities to make him stronger. His abilities were useless against a human.

The only thing he had was his sword.

...

Had his battle even helped with anything? What did he learn? It had been useless, with no purpose.

He should... really give up, shouldn’t he?

Aether clenched his fists tight, punching himself right in the face.

”What the heck am I thinking. Be rational, you dumbass!”

He knew he wasn’t going to win, so why had he gotten so off track? He had forced things. And what if he was alive because someone else pity? Since when did he care about honor? He was used to being called a rat. Of being mocked and shamed?

Since when did he want to be part of this perfect world where dignity is important?

And he had learned something.

If he only used that head of his, he could try and figure out The Ace.

He didn’t know if the others had affinities, but he was going to say they hadn’t, since his own was restricted.

Meaning, he had his path, that being The Ace, a flaw, and some abilities.

But what could his abilities be? He didn’t have enough information to actually say what they were. But he could make a theory to test later.

At the end, Guliot’s body healed up completely. So there was the chance that his ability allowed him to heal himself in some weird way.

There were also his attacks, which the second felt much weaker. That could he his flaw. But he thought it was actually his ability. Maybe his first attack did more damage. But he didn’t know what counted as a first attack. So he would have to test that out next time.

He didn’t think he had any other abilities, at least that he knew of.

Only the flaw remained, and he had an idea.

His memory was taken away after his body was healed; it had to do something with it.

He just had to prove it.