Chapter 131: Ch169. Sickness - 24 (World War Wielder)
Kurt’s plan was quite simple, to tell the truth.
After the first night of thinking, Kurt noticed a motionless shadow near where he was camped.
And what was his surprise, when, after focusing his vision a little more in the dark, an ability developed thanks to time spent in the dark of night - or, that’s what Kurt wanted to believe, remembering that the ability could, perhaps, having originated from the fact that it had consumed practically the entire ethereal, misty soul of that unknown being, master even of the Conquerors - he realized that the figure that did not move, belonged to none other than his adversary.
The [ANTIBODY] seemed to be watching Kurt’s movements.
For what purpose? Kurt had no idea.
But it had given him a light of understanding.
One more, amidst the sea of lights that he seemed to be acquiring in his mind.
The realization that it was only the fog - Kha’Ur’s soul - that prevented Kurt from being attacked in the middle of the night by his pursuer.
However, Kurt needed another night or two to test that theory, so he could be completely sure that he could use that element to his advantage.
And after a day of intense pursuit, when night fell again, there was the shadow.
Motionless and expressionless.
Kurt stayed in the same position for hours on end, just watching the figure back, looking for any movement, any involuntary spasm, a twitch, if even.
But throughout that night, the monster remained impassive, frozen in place like a statue.
One more night, and Kurt would know for sure.
The next day dawned, unfolded, and passed, without much change in Kurt’s routine of chasing and failing.
But that night, waiting anxiously, feeling his heart beating in his throat with anticipation, thinking that any movement could mean a change in his future plan...
Nothing changed.
And when the sun rose, painting the sky with pink and reddish tones, Kurt stayed there, in his makeshift camp, for a few more hours.
He didn’t wait for the sky to darken, having already gained the certainty he needed.
He ate, regained his strength, stretched his limbs, sore from so many hours of standing in the same position...
And he began his hunt for the monster once again.
’The last time...’ He thought.
***
At the end of the day, when the sun was already setting, and the sky was painted a dark, almost bloody red, Kurt didn’t feel the shame of yet another failed hunt weighing on his shoulders.
No.
He already knew that the [ANTIBODY] was a tireless monster, and that he would never be able to catch it off guard in a direct hunt.
Then it would be necessary for him to take the hunt into his territory.
That night, after building a fire and roasting an especially large rabbit, Kurt ate until he felt particularly full, stretched, and, as if there was nothing more important to do, for the first time in several nights, lay down on his back. on his makeshift bed, made of dry leaves, and closed his eyes.
For a few moments, Kurt almost felt the desperate desire to let go of his tiredness, and allow his consciousness to slip into the emptiness of a dreamless sleep.
But his senses focused completely and completely on the task before him.
With his body completely still, save for the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, Kurt waited.
Waited.
And he waited some more.
Seconds turned into minutes, which seemed to turn into hours.
But his patience was, after what seemed like an eternity, rewarded.
Kurt heard the faint rustling of leaves.
Steps.
Getting closer.
More and more.
Until he felt the pressure of the presence of the [ANTIBODY] right next to him.
The monster’s murderous intent vibrated like a being of its own, while Kurt remained silent, motionless, shipwrecked in a deep sleep.
However, with instincts burning like lighthouses in the middle of a dark and turbulent ocean, Kurt felt the blow come down on his body.
An open hand, flat on a blade, coming fast as lightning, ready to pierce Kurt’s heart.
’Smart bastard... But not enough...’
Kurt’s lips curved upwards in a grin.
And when the creature realized, it was too late.
One of Kurt’s hands held his trusty dagger.
The other was attaching itself to the creature’s neck, after a frighteningly quick turn to the side.
Kurt’s body rose into the air in one impulse, moved and contorted, and the next thing the [ANTIBODY] knew, Kurt was attached to it, like an anaconda, restricting the creature’s every movement.
Kurt exerted every ounce of strength he had in his fibers, after he had had enough food and rest, in that shallow but strangely invigorating sleep, and tensed his body all at once, hearing an audible crack coming from the bones of his arms and legs. from his former stalker.
With a thud, the monster fell to the ground, unable to move.
The creature’s shoulders and thighs, however, squirming like worms, betraying the monster’s desperate attempt to move.
To run away from there.
And as if that wasn’t enough, making Kurt feel his stomach turn, almost missing out on the delicious rabbit he had eaten a few hours before, the [ANTIBODY] opened its mouth, and released a deafening scream into the sky, which almost it made Kurt force himself to cover his ears.
But he was too focused on what came next to care about any noise.
"No, no... Nothing and no one will come and save you." Kurt said.
Smiling an almost manic, scathing smile, he grabbed the silver monstrosity’s head with both hands, and twisted it in a single, quick movement of his muscular arms.
The sound of the creature’s neck bones breaking, or pulling apart, was loud enough that Kurt imagined it would have been heard anywhere in the forest, thanks to the deathly silent cover of night.
But just in case, Kurt used his remaining dagger to separate the alien monster’s head from the rest of its body, in a precise but not very clean cut, as the thing’s skin was still absurdly tough.
"Now... You can’t do anything to me anymore..." Kurt smiled, feeling his consciousness being pulled somewhere else.
’What the...’ He thought, until the last of his memories finally returned. ’Ah, yes... Mono... Come on...’
And even though it wasn’t the way he wanted, Kurt let himself be carried away by the gravity that pulled him beyond that strange world, which had offered him so many answers.
Answers he could finally use the way they were meant to be used...
***
A week had passed since Task Force Shadow had been created, and with each passing day, the leaders of their respective squadrons had scattered across the world - some returning to their home countries, others heading to places they had never been before. gone before - the massacre of regulars seemed to increase.
As if someone had ordered the acolytes and minions of the New Dawn guild to intensify the killing.
And at the end of the seventh day, when not only the blood of regulars and irregulars stained the streets, deserts, forests, and cities of the world, but also the blood of full-fledged wielders, willing to risk their own lives for the mission of bringing peace to the world once more, Octavius finally made a public appearance.
Wearing full armor, Octavius appeared in a public square, in front of the central building of the North American Wielders Association, causing, for an instant, all skirmishes between wielders belonging to Task Force Shadow and New Dawn to cease.
However, Octavius Blake’s armor looked nothing like his usual one.
Quite the opposite.
If the armor that Octavius Blake used to wear when he was still just the leader of the Guardian guild really made him look like a paladin of justice...
The one he wore during his public appearance made him look more like a Dread Knight.
The greaves and gauntlets had claws like those of several Beasts that the wielders had already seen in the Nests.
The pauldrons extended from the shoulders to the back, resembling wings.
The vambraces seemed to be made from the plates of a Bahamoth, a unique Beast, found in rare raids, and which had never been the cause of death for countless wielders.
And the centerpiece of the armor, the chest plate, had scales like those of dragons.
The idea that that set, as a whole, conveyed, was that Octavius had become such a powerful being, that he was capable of crushing not only a Bahamoth, but also a dragon, which was one of - if not the - beasts rarest to find in any type of Nest.
"It seems you didn’t hear my words..." Octavius said, holding the pommel of his sword - made entirely of Beast bone - in his left hand. "Then I guess this means war... But do not grieve, my sons and daughters..." He continued saying, taking something out from inside the chest plates of his armor. "My words before I said goodbye to you were absolutely real and true. Just like my orders."
In every corner of the globe, with that silent ceasefire still taking place, Octavius’s followers removed from within their robes, armor, and combat gear something similar to what Octavius carried in his hand.
A crystalline sphere, colored in a sanguine shade of red.
"... Devour the heart of Kha’Ur, and you will become powerful on a level none of you ever dreamed of. And you will finally be able to rule every corner of this filthy world."
And as soon as Octavius finished speaking, he brought the sphere to his mouth.
And he swallowed the stone in one gulp...
