329 tallic Creature
Simultaneously with Franca’s explanation, inky flas emanated from her right hand, lding with the mirror that belonged to Lumian’s substitute.
Jenna observed with a mixture of apprehension, her breath held involuntarily.
…
Within the Bottle of Fiction.
Just as the wall of flas surged forth, kindling the Abyss Demon Flowers, a pang of agony gnawed at Lumian’s heart, birthing a faint shroud of black flas upon his chest.
In response, his Spirit Body descended gradually, drawn into an abyssal darkness, a void obliterating light.
Curse? Lumian, ensconced within the cradle of crimson flas, was caught off guard.
The reasons behind this unexpected curse eluded him.
On the one hand, he had preemptively plugged his ears, blunting the impact of the Soul Assimilation Mystic Spell. On the other, Guillau Bénet lay concealed among the dormant Abyss Demon Flowers, offering no overt indications of invoking contract abilities. Furthermore, he remained unscathed, leaving behind neither flesh nor blood. Every strand of his discarded hair had been consud by the encroaching flas.
As the black flas erged, the curse lingered at a subdued level, manifesting as a faint affliction that refrained from impeding his movents. Instantaneously, Lumian formulated a hypothesis.
This curse ca from Franca!
Employing Mirror Substitution, she sought to reach out to him!
With renewed determination, Lumian thrust his hands in the direction of the padre’s covert location.
Resounding with crackling, another barrier of crimson flas materialized, fire enveloping the descending Abyss Demon Flowers.
Leveraging this veil to obscure Guillau Bénet’s line of sight, Lumian pivoted and sprinted toward the entryway of the Bottle of Fiction.
His actions and his overt choice resonated with unmistakable clarity, conveying to Guillau Bénet: Why should I fight you within your chosen battleground? If my comrades are barred from entry, I’ll venture outside and unite with them!
Erging from his concealnt behind a cluster of Abyss Demon Flowers, Guillau Bénet radiated a tallic gleam across his exposed skin.
Blazing tongues of fire surged toward him, yet they could only “strip away” a fraction of fabric, unable to sear his flesh.
Through the fiery veil, the Cordu padre bestowed a smile upon Lumian’s indistinct figure.
Given the capability to freely traverse the Bottle of Fiction with requisite conditions fulfilled, he had ingeniously laid a trap at the entryway, awaiting Lumian’s unwitting ensnarent!
Having assud a tallic form, his utility was confined to boons involving his body, fate, and three distinct contract abilities untouched by his transformation. Among the latter was:
Shadow Burial!
A black mark on Guillau Bénet’s torso wavered, summoning pallid-white and abyssal-black arms that extended from the encroaching shadows, ensnaring Lumian, mid-sprint toward the entryway.
Lumian, with a forceful stomp, catapulted into the air, seemingly aiming to vault over the eerie appendages erging from the shadows, seeking sanctuary at the hushed, inky exit.
Behind him, a crimson fireball materialized, poised to detonate at a mont’s notice, transmuting into a vessel of obliteration.
Simultaneously, fierce fireballs ignited to his left and right, as if poised to counteract the grasp of the arms.
Guillau Bénet’s tallic visage bore a smile more discernible than before, though it remained deprived of vitality—stern and emotionless.
He anticipated Lumian’s imminent leap into the Bottle of Fiction’s exit.
The strange arms accompanying the Shadow Burial served as a diversionary tactic, forestalling any suspicions from arising!
It’s a pity that I can’t use Bone Curse in my tallic state. Otherwise, this would be a good opportunity… Guillau Bénet hesitated to dispel his Steel Body and deal Lumian another blow.
That way, he wouldn’t be able to transform into a tallic creature again anyti soon. The abandoned mine now perated with anesthetic gas would shortly transform into an inferno. For weak humans lacking godhood, this hostile terrain was untenable. Even Alms Monks could sustain themselves only a brief interval longer.
In the throes of hesitation, Guillau Bénet ultimately opted to persist with Shadow Burial, permitting the nightmarish arms to continue their relentless encroachnt upon Lumian.
With a vigorous leap, Lumian neared the exit of the Bottle of Fiction, almost within grasp.
At that mont, the pitch-black exit—a shadowed orifice devoid of fla—suddenly writhed faintly, akin to a shadowy maw yearning for sustenance.
Undetected, a suffused aura of “shadow” had enshrouded the secret door’s surface, a profundity seemingly imbued with life!
This was a trap Guillau Bénet had ticulously laid. The chanism lay dormant during Lumian’s initial entrance, solely activating when Lumian attempted exit. This safeguard was devised to preempt Lumian from having any danger premonitions when initially entering the Bottle of Fiction, deterring him from braving its confines.
Lumian perceived the sensation of plumting into an abyss, the final lifeline eluding his grip.
The deceptively thin veil of darkness coiled, an amalgam of endless shadows that converged into an abyssal maw, an aperture on the verge of engulfing him.
Mid-flight, Lumian extended his right palm, yet just before it made contact with the shadowy maw shrouding the hidden door, he abruptly withdrew it, mimicking a gesture of prying open a door.
In tandem, the Decency brooch nestled upon his right chest emitted a subdued golden glow.
Distortion!
Lumian distorted the action of opening the door with the concept of “unsealing this confined space!”
From the outset, his intent to depart the Bottle of Fiction was absent. Instead, he sought to find a way for his companions to infiltrate, thus furnishing reinforcent.
This enclave laden with combustible resources stood as a haven for a Pyromaniac!
Boom!
With a resounding detonation, the crimson fireball positioned to Lumian’s left erupted, issuing a horizontal thrust that exacted a substantial toll. His attire lay rent, and his flesh bore charred imprints, inflicted by the fiery onslaught. Gradually nearing the shadowy vortex, the forceful explosion propelled him away from the exit of the Bottle of Fiction and beyond the enshrouded region brimming with appendages swathed in pallid-white and abyssal-black.
Resounding with a thud, Lumian tumbled, ensconcing himself behind a rampart of surging flas. This maneuver forestalled the further encroachnt of the shadowy expanse, obliging the strange arms to contend with the blistering blaze.
Outside the Bottle of Fiction.
A frigid zephyr brushed against Franca and Jenna, wafting from the hidden door’s interior.
Swiftly, the chill tamorphosed into a searing fervor. Behind the hidden door lay a derelict mine engulfed in a sea of crimson flas, the blazing inferno punctuated by the descent of undistorted fire dragons, their incandescence unbridled.
The remaining black vines, the crimson flowers, and the strange arms all succumbed to the fiery onslaught, pursued relentlessly by the raging conflagration.
Signaling to Jenna, Franca receded into the shadows as she drew closer to the hidden door.
Jenna understood Franca’s intentions and rationally retreated into the shadows outside the hidden door, concealing herself.
She knew that it would be difficult for her to participate in the battle with her strength. Thus, she chose to bide her ti, awaiting the enemy’s ergence through the threshold, poised to exploit a fleeting opportunity to deliver a decisive, lethal strike.
Within the ajar Bottle of Fiction, Lumian, having concluded his sorsault, propped himself up with a single hand.
Locking his gaze onto the distant Guillau Bénet—his form akin to that of a tallic marionette—Lumian’s lips curled wordlessly, yielding an eruption of crimson flas that engulfed his flesh and attire.
A familiar pang of tornt reverberated across Lumian’s psyche, jolting him awake from the lethargic stupor.
It’s been so ti! Lumian’s grin was tinged with distortion as he hurtled toward the tal-encased Guillau Bénet. His forward montum stirred the encompassing crimson flas, elongating behind him like a shimring, unfurled cape.
Wary of Lumian’s earlier utilization of the harrumph spell, Guillau Bénet, resembling a puppet forged from steel, evaded direct confrontation, executing artful shifts in position.
Discerning Lumian’s strategy of harnessing the flas to stave off the Abyss Demon Flowers-induced anesthetic gas, Guillau Bénet discerned this endeavor to be fleeting. At best, Lumian’s fiery gambit would delay his descent into unconsciousness. Certain matters couldn’t be resolved by self-harm!
Having adopted the form of a tallic entity via Steel Body, Guillau Bénet remained impervious to the anesthetic gas’s effects, even forgoing the need to draw breath. This form also minimized the conflagration’s impact on him. Guillau Bénet was convinced that Steel Body’s efficacy would persist until Lumian Lee succumbed to unconsciousness.
Furthermore, his assessnt revealed Lumian’s substantial spirituality expenditure, coupled with Lumian’s evident abstention from spirit world traversal.
This deduction led Guillau Bénet to surmise that the harrumph spell likely bore limitations on its frequency of use.
Of course, sustained evasion was untenable. Lumian Lee’s actions hinted at him using so unconventional ans to open the Bottle of Fiction, suggesting his companions had likely infiltrated covertly through invisibility. Guillau Bénet couldn’t allow this duo to demonstrate the potency of their teamwork.
Nimbly maneuvering around the plumting tendrils of flaming vines, Guillau Bénet executed a sudden pivot, facing Lumian with unwavering intent.
His tallic countenance mirrored the flaming luminance, refracting a kaleidoscopic iridescence.
Myriads of diminutive “rainbows” coalesced, cleaving Guillau Bénet as though he gazed upon his mirror image.
Light Incarnation!
One of the three contractual abilities accessible in his Steel Body state.
Its premise lay in leveraging light to forge a fleeting incarnation, capable of channeling an individual’s capabilities.
Two tallic Guillau Bénets surged toward Lumian simultaneously.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Each stride they undertook fostered corporeal expansion, culminating in the tamorphosis into tallic titans, which tore asunder their white robes adorned with silver-black threads.
Elevating his right hand, Lumian summoned into being a host of crimson Fire Ravens that swirled about him.
The Fire Ravens promptly surged toward the two Guillau Bénets, demonstrating no clency.
Given the inherent challenge of distinguishing authenticity from imitation within a short span of ti, Lumian adopted a stratagem of unleashing an onslaught indiscriminately—comprising both genuine and illusory manifestations!
For truth could not be falsified, nor could falsity be genuine!
In an abrupt detonation, the Guillau Bénet before him disintegrated.
Rumble!
Accompanied by the explosion, amid which a multitude of Fire Ravens were prematurely engulfed in combustion, a Water Cannon sculpted from dark-green liquid surged forth from the fake Guillau Bénet’s fragnted remnants.
The Water Cannon, of astonishing alacrity and proximity, penetrated Lumian’s fiery shroud, impinging upon his form. As a consequence, Lumian’s physique began exhibiting telltale signs of liquefaction.
Draynere Gland Poison!
One of three contractual abilities he could use as a tallic entity!
With a brittle crack, Lumian’s corporeal structure fractured, tamorphosing into mirrors.
A re ten ters from Guillau Bénet, Franca, owing to the activation of Mirror Substitution, involuntarily escaped her state of Invisibility.
Observing her ergence, Guillau Bénet’s blue irises assud a pallor bordering on translucence. A deft push of his right palm propagated the ergence of an expansive river of rcurial sigils encircling Franca.
Pitting himself directly against Lumian Lee proved to be a disconcerting engagent for Guillau Bénet. His paramount and most formidable Fate Appropriator ability remained inaccessible, for its utilization would catalyze a consequential backlash from Inevitability.
Since it couldn’t be used on Lumian Lee, it could be used on his companion!
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