An indescribable dread loomed on the battlefield as Father Hoffman and The Boy steeled themselves for battle.
On one side, The Boy’s overwhelming madness caused the very ground beneath "it" to tremble. "It" chanted in an indiscernible tongue as a wave of light gathered into his palm. The light construct formed a long, ornate blade.
On the other hand, Father Hoffman deactivated his [Inheritance] skill with the Divine General Randjhi. Instead, he opted for another transformation. Hoffman’s body lost its bulky frame and gained a slender, more agile appearance. His spiritual energy experienced a qualitative change as the gaseous energy transformed into plasma. These were the primary attributes of the Mythical Beast of the Second Harmonic Realm, Flauki: Emissary of Storms.
He had already proven himself to be a worthy adversary in terms of raw physical strength, so there was no need for a head-on confrontation. His best, no, his only condition for victory was speed.
In the midst of the chaos, The Boy remained calm and focused, "it's" mind racing to anticipate Father Hoffman's next move. As dust swirled around them, "it" relied on "it's" instincts and honed reflexes to stay one step ahead.
Father Hoffman analyzed the situation at hand in an instant. Flauki is a transformation that not only specializes in speed, but spiritual transmutation as well. By converting my spirituality into various forms of electricity, I can detect him through the thick dust cloud with radio waves. If I can’t beat him in any particular category, then I’ll have to use sly tactics!
With a swift motion, Father Hoffman leaped from corner to corner, his movements fluid and graceful thanks to the lack of bulk on his frame. The Boy could barely keep track of Hoffman as the nimble priest darted through the haze of dust. The Boy refused to be caught off guard. As Father Hoffman closed in, "it" anticipated the attack, sidestepping the sweeping horizontal slash with a fraction of a second to spare.
The ground trembled beneath the force of the strike, sending shockwaves rippling through the battlefield. In the split second before Father Hoffman's hand-spear reached "it's" mid-section, The Boy's keen eyes caught the faint glimmer of unnatural movement. With lightning-fast reflexes, he realized the truth—Father Hoffman's initial attack had been a feint.
Reacting swiftly, The Boy hurled a small knife at Father Hoffman, aiming for his vulnerable flank. But even as the blade flew through the air, Father Hoffman evaded with uncanny speed, narrowly dodging the projectile. The Boy's lips twisted into a grimace of frustration. Annoying…"it" lampooned.
Father Hoffman was proving to be a formidable opponent, his agility and speed reminiscent of a predator on the hunt. The Boy refused to back down, "it's" determination unwavering as "it" prepared for the next phase of their deadly dance.
With Father Hoffman's evasive maneuvers, The Boy recalibrated his strategy. "It" knew "It" needed to disrupt Hoffman's rhythm to gain the upper hand in the battle.
As the dust settled, revealing their positions once more, The Boy focused "it's" energy, conjuring another weapon of light in his hand. Father Hoffman crouched low, his eyes gleaming with a predatory intensity. The Boy could sense the anticipation in the air, a silent tension hanging between them like a taut wire.
Without warning, Father Hoffman lunged forward again, his movements a blur of speed and precision. The Boy held "It's" ground, "It's" muscles tensing as "It" prepared to strike. Just as Father Hoffman closed the distance between them, The Boy unleashed "It" attack—a blinding flash of light that engulfed the battlefield in brilliance.
“?!”
For just a moment, The Boy released his application ability, creating a make-shift flashbang capable of stunning his opponent.
Father Hoffman faltered for a moment, momentarily blinded by the sudden onslaught. Seizing the opportunity, The Boy darted forward, "It's" movements fluid and swift. With a precise strike, The Boy aimed for Father Hoffman's exposed flank, the ornate light blade slicing through the air with deadly accuracy. Father Hoffman roared in pain as the blade connected, tearing through his flesh with ease. Blood welled from the wound. The ground was stained crimson as Father Hoffman staggered backward.
The Boy didn't relent. "It" pressing the advantage with a flurry of blows upon the wounded opponent. With each strike, "It" drove Father Hoffman back, relentless in the relentless pursuit of victory. But even as Father Hoffman fought to regain his footing, The Boy sensed the tide of battle shifting in the "it's" favor.
The Boy's senses heightened as "It" observed the anomaly in Father Hoffman's spirituality. Despite the damage inflicted upon the priest, his weakened state seemed disproportionate to the injuries sustained. Something was amiss, a hidden source of power sapping away at Hoffman's strength.
Following the faint trail of blue spirituality, The Boy's eyes widened in realization as he traced its path to an unknown location behind him. A surge of alarm coursed through The Boy as "it" recognized the danger lurking just out of sight. With lightning reflexes, The Boy ceased the assault on Father Hoffman and swiftly sidestepped to the right, narrowly avoiding the imminent threat.
In that moment, a blinding burst of lightning erupted from the space where "It" had stood, crackling with malevolent energy. The lightning tore through The Boy's left hand, searing the flesh and forcing a visceral explosion. Though "It's" body was naturally dull to sensations like pain or discomfort, The Boy stared at the charred remains of "It's" hand in confusion.
Hoffman said in a mocking tone, “that was supposed to be your heart, jackass.”
The Boy's mind raced as "It" pieced together the intricacies of Father Hoffman's strategy. The priest's seemingly erratic movements had been a clever ruse—a double feint designed to lull The Boy into a false sense of security.
Father Hoffman's manipulation of the dust cloud had served as a distraction, obscuring his true intentions and opening up an opportunity for a devastating counterattack. But even more insidious was his utilization of spirituality to manipulate the surrounding environment.
By implanting a portion of his spirituality onto a nearby metal object, Father Hoffman had gained a potent weapon at his disposal. Through precise control of positive and negative charges, he could ensure a guaranteed hit effect, bypassing The Boy's defenses with deadly accuracy.
Realizing the gravity of the situation, The Boy braced "itself" for the imminent confrontation. Father Hoffman's abilities posed a formidable challenge, one that would require all of "It's" skill and cunning to overcome.
An indescribable dread loomed on the battlefield as Father Hoffman and The Boy steeled themselves for battle.
On one side, The Boy’s overwhelming madness caused the very ground beneath "it" to tremble. "It" chanted in an indiscernible tongue as a wave of light gathered into his palm. The light construct formed a long, ornate blade.
On the other hand, Father Hoffman deactivated his [Inheritance] skill with the Divine General Randjhi. Instead, he opted for another transformation. Hoffman’s body lost its bulky frame and gained a slender, more agile appearance. His spiritual energy experienced a qualitative change as the gaseous energy transformed into plasma. These were the primary attributes of the Mythical Beast of the Second Harmonic Realm, Flauki: Emissary of Storms.
He had already proven himself to be a worthy adversary in terms of raw physical strength, so there was no need for a head-on confrontation. His best, no, his only condition for victory was speed.
In the midst of the chaos, The Boy remained calm and focused, "it's" mind racing to anticipate Father Hoffman's next move. As dust swirled around them, "it" relied on "it's" instincts and honed reflexes to stay one step ahead.
Father Hoffman analyzed the situation at hand in an instant. Flauki is a transformation that not only specializes in speed, but spiritual transmutation as well. By converting my spirituality into various forms of electricity, I can detect him through the thick dust cloud with radio waves. If I can’t beat him in any particular category, then I’ll have to use sly tactics!
With a swift motion, Father Hoffman leaped from corner to corner, his movements fluid and graceful thanks to the lack of bulk on his frame. The Boy could barely keep track of Hoffman as the nimble priest darted through the haze of dust. The Boy refused to be caught off guard. As Father Hoffman closed in, "it" anticipated the attack, sidestepping the sweeping horizontal slash with a fraction of a second to spare.
The ground trembled beneath the force of the strike, sending shockwaves rippling through the battlefield. In the split second before Father Hoffman's hand-spear reached "it's" mid-section, The Boy's keen eyes caught the faint glimmer of unnatural movement. With lightning-fast reflexes, he realized the truth—Father Hoffman's initial attack had been a feint.
Reacting swiftly, The Boy hurled a small knife at Father Hoffman, aiming for his vulnerable flank. But even as the blade flew through the air, Father Hoffman evaded with uncanny speed, narrowly dodging the projectile. The Boy's lips twisted into a grimace of frustration. Annoying…"it" lampooned.
Father Hoffman was proving to be a formidable opponent, his agility and speed reminiscent of a predator on the hunt. The Boy refused to back down, "it's" determination unwavering as "it" prepared for the next phase of their deadly dance.
With Father Hoffman's evasive maneuvers, The Boy recalibrated his strategy. "It" knew "It" needed to disrupt Hoffman's rhythm to gain the upper hand in the battle.
As the dust settled, revealing their positions once more, The Boy focused "it's" energy, conjuring another weapon of light in his hand. Father Hoffman crouched low, his eyes gleaming with a predatory intensity. The Boy could sense the anticipation in the air, a silent tension hanging between them like a taut wire.
Without warning, Father Hoffman lunged forward again, his movements a blur of speed and precision. The Boy held "It's" ground, "It's" muscles tensing as "It" prepared to strike. Just as Father Hoffman closed the distance between them, The Boy unleashed "It" attack—a blinding flash of light that engulfed the battlefield in brilliance.
“?!”
For just a moment, The Boy released his application ability, creating a make-shift flashbang capable of stunning his opponent.
Father Hoffman faltered for a moment, momentarily blinded by the sudden onslaught. Seizing the opportunity, The Boy darted forward, "It's" movements fluid and swift. With a precise strike, The Boy aimed for Father Hoffman's exposed flank, the ornate light blade slicing through the air with deadly accuracy. Father Hoffman roared in pain as the blade connected, tearing through his flesh with ease. Blood welled from the wound. The ground was stained crimson as Father Hoffman staggered backward.
The Boy didn't relent. "It" pressing the advantage with a flurry of blows upon the wounded opponent. With each strike, "It" drove Father Hoffman back, relentless in the relentless pursuit of victory. But even as Father Hoffman fought to regain his footing, The Boy sensed the tide of battle shifting in the "it's" favor.
The Boy's senses heightened as "It" observed the anomaly in Father Hoffman's spirituality. Despite the damage inflicted upon the priest, his weakened state seemed disproportionate to the injuries sustained. Something was amiss, a hidden source of power sapping away at Hoffman's strength.
Following the faint trail of blue spirituality, The Boy's eyes widened in realization as he traced its path to an unknown location behind him. A surge of alarm coursed through The Boy as "it" recognized the danger lurking just out of sight. With lightning reflexes, The Boy ceased the assault on Father Hoffman and swiftly sidestepped to the right, narrowly avoiding the imminent threat.
In that moment, a blinding burst of lightning erupted from the space where "It" had stood, crackling with malevolent energy. The lightning tore through The Boy's left hand, searing the flesh and forcing a visceral explosion. Though "It's" body was naturally dull to sensations like pain or discomfort, The Boy stared at the charred remains of "It's" hand in confusion.
Hoffman said in a mocking tone, “that was supposed to be your heart, jackass.”
The Boy's mind raced as "It" pieced together the intricacies of Father Hoffman's strategy. The priest's seemingly erratic movements had been a clever ruse—a double feint designed to lull The Boy into a false sense of security.
Father Hoffman's manipulation of the dust cloud had served as a distraction, obscuring his true intentions and opening up an opportunity for a devastating counterattack. But even more insidious was his utilization of spirituality to manipulate the surrounding environment.
By implanting a portion of his spirituality onto a nearby metal object, Father Hoffman had gained a potent weapon at his disposal. Through precise control of positive and negative charges, he could ensure a guaranteed hit effect, bypassing The Boy's defenses with deadly accuracy.
Realizing the gravity of the situation, The Boy braced "itself" for the imminent confrontation. Father Hoffman's abilities posed a formidable challenge, one that would require all of "It's" skill and cunning to overcome.
