“...” The Boy looked at Father Hoffman with a galling eye. Throughout the sporadic memories found dormant in It’s subconscious, The Boy had never known such volatile emotions like shock, stress, or fear. With an absurd amount of power forced into Its hands, killing was nothing but a pass-time for him. And yet…this man who should have been another bug on the roadside managed to truly injure him.
It was, quite frankly, an insult to It’s ego.
“You are strong,” It said.
Hoffman responded with a surprised look, “so you actually can talk. Interesting. You may be more Demi-Human than I thought.”
“Demi-Human? I have no use for such labels. A bug is merely a bug no matter what name you give it.”
“Ho…? Is that pride I sense? What a child!”
“...” Despite how much “It” hated to admit the truth, Hoffman was right. The Boy took pride in It’s own strength despite Its general apathy towards life. In a world where It could be abandoned like trash and transformed into a monster by his own surrogate father, what else was there but power? Human notions like peace, compassion, prosperity, and humility were a foreign concept to It. All that truly existed was Itself and Its own power.
“I’m done talking. Die.” In a dazzling flash of light, The Boy summoned pillars of white energy that erupted from the earth in a divine display of power. The light pillars took solid form in the shape of weapons. Knives, swords, hammers, spears, and other exotic armaments of war littered the battlefield.
With a swift motion, The Boy seized a three-sectioned staff from the air, its blade gleaming with an ethereal light. His grip tightened around the bar as he charged forward, his movements fluid and decisive. Hoffman responded in kind with various parries and counters.
The divine adversaries clashed with blinding speed, their movements a blur of agility and precision. Each strike and parry was executed with lightning-fast reflexes, as they danced around each other in a deadly dance of combat.
The Boy cycled through countless weapons in an attempt at prodding Hoffman’s weakness. The unpredictability of a three-section staff, the weight of a hammer, the concealment of a dagger; all of these weapons would see break upon coming into contact with Hoffman’s ferocious attacks. Nothing would penetrate the Lightning God’s armor.
At least…that is what The Boy thought.
Hoffman was an expert at acting. He maintained a calm composure despite his immense exhaustion from the dozens of wounds on his body. If the battle continued any further, then his body would surely break. He noticed the degradation of his body and disengaged from The Boy’s assault.
Both parties took a large leap backward and prepared themselves for their final attack.
Hoffman lowered his body into a panther’s stance, bearing his fangs at the embodiment of despair. I’ll exorcize you!
The Boy responded in kind as It gathered the scattered weapons into a singular pillar of light. It raised Its right hand and clenched Its shoulder with the other hand. Blood leaked from every orifice on Its face as It concentrated every ounce of power into one vertical slash. I’ll kill you.
As the two combatants converged with blinding speed, the sheer force of their collision sent shockwaves rippling through the entirety of Area Six. In the blink of an eye, they clashed in a cataclysmic explosion of power, their combined might tearing a “distortion” into the world itself.
The impact was devastating, obliterating both the church of the Light Side of the Alchemic Order and its dark counterpart in a deafening roar of destruction. The once imposing structures crumbled to dust, reduced to nothing more than rubble and debris. Amidst the chaos, the air crackled with heat and energy, the intense blast of light from The Boy's attack casting long shadows across the devastated landscape. Dust hung in the air like a shroud, swirling in the aftermath of the devastating clash.
For what felt like an eternity, silence reigned supreme, broken only by the faint crackle of smoldering embers and the distant echoes of destruction. But then, slowly, a figure emerged from the rubble, standing tall amidst the devastation.
It was Hoffman, battered and bruised but unbowed, his gaze steady and unwavering despite the carnage that surrounded him. With a weary sigh, he surveyed the aftermath of the battle, a lone warrior amidst the ruins of a once-great fortress.
Damn, I took this Boy too lightly. In that infinitesimally small second, The Boy’s body couldn’t handle the excess spirituality pouring through his body. He only lost because he self-destructed. If I hadn’t gotten so lucky…then I would have been killed.
Father Hoffman's body writhed in agony as he coughed up rivers of blood, his strength ebbing away with each convulsion. His spirit reserves depleted and his body broken, he knew that he could no longer continue the fight.
"It destroyed Flauki’s factor," he gasped, his voice barely a whisper amid the chaos of battle. "I doubt that I’ll be able to summon Randjhi anytime soon." The realization weighed heavily on him, a bitter reminder of his own mortality and the limits of his power. With a heavy heart, he accepted the reality of his situation—he could no longer protect his Goddess or his people.
As the dust settled and the echoes of battle faded into the distance, Father Hoffman's thoughts turned to the intruders who had disrupted his sanctuary. But even as he tried to muster the strength to confront them, he found himself unable to move, his body betraying him in his moment of need.
With a sigh of resignation, he collapsed next to The Boy, his consciousness slipping away as darkness closed in around him. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice tinged with regret. "I couldn't protect you, Holy Mother..."And with those final words, Father Hoffman succumbed to the darkness, his body limp and lifeless as he lay helpless on the barren roots of the Divine Tree.
“...” The Boy looked at Father Hoffman with a galling eye. Throughout the sporadic memories found dormant in It’s subconscious, The Boy had never known such volatile emotions like shock, stress, or fear. With an absurd amount of power forced into Its hands, killing was nothing but a pass-time for him. And yet…this man who should have been another bug on the roadside managed to truly injure him.
It was, quite frankly, an insult to It’s ego.
“You are strong,” It said.
Hoffman responded with a surprised look, “so you actually can talk. Interesting. You may be more Demi-Human than I thought.”
“Demi-Human? I have no use for such labels. A bug is merely a bug no matter what name you give it.”
“Ho…? Is that pride I sense? What a child!”
“...” Despite how much “It” hated to admit the truth, Hoffman was right. The Boy took pride in It’s own strength despite Its general apathy towards life. In a world where It could be abandoned like trash and transformed into a monster by his own surrogate father, what else was there but power? Human notions like peace, compassion, prosperity, and humility were a foreign concept to It. All that truly existed was Itself and Its own power.
“I’m done talking. Die.” In a dazzling flash of light, The Boy summoned pillars of white energy that erupted from the earth in a divine display of power. The light pillars took solid form in the shape of weapons. Knives, swords, hammers, spears, and other exotic armaments of war littered the battlefield.
With a swift motion, The Boy seized a three-sectioned staff from the air, its blade gleaming with an ethereal light. His grip tightened around the bar as he charged forward, his movements fluid and decisive. Hoffman responded in kind with various parries and counters.
The divine adversaries clashed with blinding speed, their movements a blur of agility and precision. Each strike and parry was executed with lightning-fast reflexes, as they danced around each other in a deadly dance of combat.
The Boy cycled through countless weapons in an attempt at prodding Hoffman’s weakness. The unpredictability of a three-section staff, the weight of a hammer, the concealment of a dagger; all of these weapons would see break upon coming into contact with Hoffman’s ferocious attacks. Nothing would penetrate the Lightning God’s armor.
At least…that is what The Boy thought.
Hoffman was an expert at acting. He maintained a calm composure despite his immense exhaustion from the dozens of wounds on his body. If the battle continued any further, then his body would surely break. He noticed the degradation of his body and disengaged from The Boy’s assault.
Both parties took a large leap backward and prepared themselves for their final attack.
Hoffman lowered his body into a panther’s stance, bearing his fangs at the embodiment of despair. I’ll exorcize you!
The Boy responded in kind as It gathered the scattered weapons into a singular pillar of light. It raised Its right hand and clenched Its shoulder with the other hand. Blood leaked from every orifice on Its face as It concentrated every ounce of power into one vertical slash. I’ll kill you.
As the two combatants converged with blinding speed, the sheer force of their collision sent shockwaves rippling through the entirety of Area Six. In the blink of an eye, they clashed in a cataclysmic explosion of power, their combined might tearing a “distortion” into the world itself.
The impact was devastating, obliterating both the church of the Light Side of the Alchemic Order and its dark counterpart in a deafening roar of destruction. The once imposing structures crumbled to dust, reduced to nothing more than rubble and debris. Amidst the chaos, the air crackled with heat and energy, the intense blast of light from The Boy's attack casting long shadows across the devastated landscape. Dust hung in the air like a shroud, swirling in the aftermath of the devastating clash.
For what felt like an eternity, silence reigned supreme, broken only by the faint crackle of smoldering embers and the distant echoes of destruction. But then, slowly, a figure emerged from the rubble, standing tall amidst the devastation.
It was Hoffman, battered and bruised but unbowed, his gaze steady and unwavering despite the carnage that surrounded him. With a weary sigh, he surveyed the aftermath of the battle, a lone warrior amidst the ruins of a once-great fortress.
Damn, I took this Boy too lightly. In that infinitesimally small second, The Boy’s body couldn’t handle the excess spirituality pouring through his body. He only lost because he self-destructed. If I hadn’t gotten so lucky…then I would have been killed.
Father Hoffman's body writhed in agony as he coughed up rivers of blood, his strength ebbing away with each convulsion. His spirit reserves depleted and his body broken, he knew that he could no longer continue the fight.
"It destroyed Flauki’s factor," he gasped, his voice barely a whisper amid the chaos of battle. "I doubt that I’ll be able to summon Randjhi anytime soon." The realization weighed heavily on him, a bitter reminder of his own mortality and the limits of his power. With a heavy heart, he accepted the reality of his situation—he could no longer protect his Goddess or his people.
As the dust settled and the echoes of battle faded into the distance, Father Hoffman's thoughts turned to the intruders who had disrupted his sanctuary. But even as he tried to muster the strength to confront them, he found himself unable to move, his body betraying him in his moment of need.
With a sigh of resignation, he collapsed next to The Boy, his consciousness slipping away as darkness closed in around him. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice tinged with regret. "I couldn't protect you, Holy Mother..."And with those final words, Father Hoffman succumbed to the darkness, his body limp and lifeless as he lay helpless on the barren roots of the Divine Tree.
