The Begotten Fiend

Chapter 33: Diminished Flame

"I’m... what?"

Diethard pointed at his open eye. "There are no truer words. I can see it right now--you’ve got a nice pile of skills, but no mastery over them." Then, he narrowed his eye. "But there’s something even deeper, something that not even I can appraise. I can tell you’re holding it back, and that right there is my proof."

Is he talking about my Merciless? If so, its sub-skill, Plunder, wouldn’t work on him. After all, it consumes my own soul, and I still don’t understand the full drawbacks of using it on someone stronger than me.

"Sorry, but I’m not holding anything back, I simply can’t do what you’re asking me to."

Shaking his head, Diethard clicked his tongue. "So you still don’t understand what I’m talking about?"

What? Honestly, nothing he says makes any sense--

Whoa!

He disappeared. The room’s air swirled, pushing into me with the intensity of a hurricane. My hair swayed, my limbs shook. "The hell?"

It was as if I was fighting against wind itself--its will manifesting as a small, localized whirlwind. I pushed back at it, but it was an unwinnable battle.

Redirecting the hurricane’s spin, I used it to help me twirl around--pirouetting past the attack and towards where Diethard had just stood.

But he was no longer there.

"Looking for me?"

My mouth hung open--yelping from the sudden voice. It came from behind, meaning I could only turn around.

But as I did, I once again saw nothing.

"Aren’t you naive?" Again, his voice resonated through the room. Though, it wasn’t in any one spot. No, it came from all around. freёwebnoѵel.com

The room was... empty?

It was only then that a hard, gripping force wrapped around me. Like a big hand clasping me in its palm, my limbs clammed together. "What is this..." I struggled, driving myself into the force.

But it didn’t budge. No, this stupid, invisible "hand" was so tight that my sternum pressed into my lungs. My chest flared, caving from the intense pressure. "Ghahhh..." I breathed out, desperate for air.

I didn’t know whether or not it was going to work, but I did the one thing I could do in this situation.

I reached for Push, utilizing the skill’s application. As the name implied, it pushes against objects, but it’s not through mana like Mana Control.

Rather, it’s a similar, invisible skill. However, if the skill deals with the action of "pushing," then perhaps it doesn’t have to be in any one direction.

No, rather, I materialized it as an omni-directional pushing force. Even though it was invisible, I felt it biting back against the thing restricting my movements.

But nothing. It wasn’t working. I needed to put more mana into it.

"Come... on..." I grit, eating up more mana than I’d ever used since my last Plunder against those spiders.

The tension released from my chest--the sudden alleviation from the invisible hand causing me to fall to the ground.

Coughing, I took a big gulp of air. "Hah... hah... hah... what was that?"

As I spoke, the wind in front of me eddied, reacting to someone’s intent. Magic, but how?

The answer to my question was Diethard himself. It was as if he just popped into existence right where the magic had been acting. The swirling air dissipated into the atmosphere, leaving just him.

"Not bad, not bad at all," he said, chuckling. "You’re not totally failing now. But there’s still something you’re withholding from me."

When the burning in my lungs stopped, I was able to afford enough energy to look him in his eyes. "I still have no idea what you’re talking about--"

"Oh, you know what." He smiled. "I can see it. You’re meek by nature, and that has weakened your resolve. Your haphazard attitude is what holds you back from becoming who I suspect you may have the potential to be. Use the one skill that’s let you survive this long."

I eyed him with confusion, even though deep down, I knew well what exactly he was referring to.

But, seriously, nothing gets past this guy. His appraisal skill isn’t a joke.

"Okay, if you really want to see it that bad." I helped myself up by my knees, then looked dead at him. "But, fair warning, this skill is capable of destroying the soul itself."

"Ah, I see." He laughed, holding his right arm out. "Give it to me, then. Show me the essence of your being."

Well, he’s quite confident.

Then I’m not holding anything back...

Directing my hand in his direction, I willed Plunder to being:

"Consume!"

Black soul-flame flogged at him like whips, each tendril flying so freely that the walls crackled against their power, then got permanent black marks burned into them.

But, wait, they were behaving weirdly. I told it to consume his entire existence, yet it seemed to be drawn towards his palm. When they approached his body, they warped directly into his arm, wrapping it in the festering flames.

They leapt across his skin, burning away at him. But his expression didn’t change.

"Interesting, it really does try to reach for the soul," he said. He stood in the same position. "Although, your manipulation is so meager that it’s not even attacking the ego properly."

Ego?

Once he finished observing the flame, I felt my core lose its strength. "What’s... happening..." I groaned through each word, dropping to one knee.

"Another thing. This thing consumes your own soul, so it’s not something to be taken lightly."

I... I couldn’t believe it. The fire, it was going out?

But I’ve seen it. They don’t wear down, or get doused by anything physical. There was simply no way he was capable of this.

He was interacting with something as metaphysical as the soul, and so casually...?

It was like the soul-fire cried out, pleading for me to recant the skill and return to my essence. But I felt too weak. I could hardly even think.

Eventually, my Plunder had been diminished to nothing. All that remained was Diethard, and my tired spirit.

"Not bad, kid. You’ve got quite the skill there," he said, patting his arm clean. "But that’s not good enough. I’m going to have to kill you."