Chapter 2941: Veerott’s Frustration
Date: Unspecified
Time: Unspecified
Location: Myriad Realms, Card World, Southern Region, Blossom District, Sky Blossom City
"Do you surrender now?" I asked as my ribcage folded back into place, sealing the gateway to the Spiritual Plane. The horrifying sight vanished as though it had never existed.
"No. I am not done yet," Veerott answered without hesitation. For a moment, I simply stared at him.
The man had lost both hands, endured countless curses, watched his strongest attack get swallowed by another plane of existence, and was somehow still refusing to quit.
This was why I tried to break his will instead of his body. As long as he draws breath and can move, he will never surrender. Even though he grew up far away in isolation, he was a Viltronian after all.
Veerott raised his amputated arms and held them out to either side. Soul energy surged from the severed ends. The energy compressed rapidly, becoming denser and denser until two brilliant spheres formed where his fists should have been.
The spheres glowed with an intense white radiance, their surfaces crackling with celestial force. They were unstable, violent, and absurdly dangerous. Yet Veerott controlled them perfectly, like a pair of artificial fists forged from pure soul energy.
The surrounding air distorted around them. Every movement caused ripples to spread through space as the concentrated soul energy continuously leaked destructive power into the environment.
Even before he attacked, chunks of space beneath his makeshift fists began to tear. Then he vanished. A sonic boom exploded across the battlefield. Veerott crossed the distance between us in an instant.
The first punch arrived before the sound of his acceleration reached me. I tilted my head. The soul-energy sphere passed by my cheek. The attack missed me completely, but the shockwave alone carved a canyon through the landscape behind me.
The second strike followed immediately after. Then a third. A fourth. Veerott abandoned all restraint and unleashed a relentless barrage. His movements became a blur of speed and violence even to my eyes.
I didn’t dare face his spheres of concentrated soul energy the way I had fought his fists before. They would not only burn right through my defenses, but given Veerott’s speed, he would reduce my body to ash before my calamity soul gem could even regenerate the old one or restructure a new one.
They were far more destructive than his original fists. His flesh-and-bone fists relied on overwhelming physical power. These new weapons combined that same physical strength with concentrated soul energy and celestial force.
Every strike carried enough destructive power to devastate an entire battlefield. Fortunately for me, losing his hands cost Veerott the dexterity of his wrists, forcing him to rely entirely on his elbows and shoulders to maneuver his punches. It was a tactical flaw that seemed completely lost on him as he charged forward, grinning with the reckless enthusiasm of a man who thought he had finally solved a problem.
"See?" Veerott yelled between attacks. "I can still fight!"
"Tell that after you successfully manage to land a single punch on me."
I watched the glowing spheres tear through space around me and miss me by a few inches. Everywhere I tried to retreat Veerott would follow like my shadow.
"Aaargh!"
My taunt had the desired effect. Veerott’s expression twisted with frustration, and he immediately became even more aggressive.
His attacks grew faster and movements became sharper. He pushed his already monstrous body beyond its previous limits, drawing out even more speed and power through sheer determination and rage.
The spheres of concentrated soul energy attached to his arms blazed brighter with every strike. Shockwaves rippled across the battlefield as he unleashed a relentless storm of attacks, each one shredding the space in its wake.
Objectively speaking, his martial arts were incredible. His footwork was flawless. His timing was impeccable. His combinations flowed together with the instinctive precision of a warrior who had spent his entire life fighting stronger opponents.
Unfortunately for him, none of that mattered. No matter how fast or powerful his attacks became, I avoided every single one without suffering so much as a scratch.
The reason was simple. Among the thousands of curse fields surrounding us were several carefully selected curses that were subtly influencing Veerott’s perception and spatial judgment.
Veerott wasn’t actually aiming where he thought he was aiming. Every punch, kick, and feint was being shifted by tiny fractions. A degree here. Half a degree there. Barely enough to notice during normal circumstances.
But during a battle between beings moving at absurd speeds, those tiny errors became enormous. To Veerott, it looked as though I was narrowly dodging his attacks.
In reality, many of them weren’t even close. Several strikes passed meters away from where he believed they would land.
Of course, I couldn’t make that too obvious. Aqualas and Seraphina were still watching. If they realized what was happening, they would immediately warn him.
So I played along. I twisted out of the way of attacks that didn’t need dodging. I leaned away from punches that would never have touched me. I even stepped backward occasionally to maintain the illusion. To any observer, it looked like a spectacular display of reflexes. Only I knew the truth.
Then, while Veerott unleashed another barrage of attacks, I covered my mouth and yawned. A long, exaggerated yawn.
The effect was immediate. The veins on Veerott’s forehead bulged. His eyes widened. The next attack came noticeably faster than the previous one. I know that anger can make people do things that they normally wouldn’t, but in Veerott’s case it was helping him push past his limits.
However, as a trade off, each strike was more reckless than the last. The more enraged he became, the less likely he was to notice his senses being manipulated.
His focus and judgment deteriorated. And the subtle influence of the curse fields became even harder for him to detect. By now, Veerott wasn’t fighting me. He was fighting his own frustration.
