The tables turned after Carl's thirteenth death and resurrection. Just as he was about to voice a taunt, he heard a whoosh of air behind him, and a long, white, half-bone sword pierced through his body.
An undead curse traveled along the blade of the White Bone Holy Sword and into his body. At the sa ti, the spirit of life—an essence diatrically opposed to the curse's power—flowed into him as well, prolonging his agony and preventing a swift death.
Carl twisted his head to look behind him. The man on the unicorn had appeared there at so point.
"It's useless."
He sneered.
"Are you trying to torture ?"
"No."
Jenkins gently shook his head, his spirit slowly flowing down his arm and into the sword. One by one, the runes on the blade lit up. The sword possessed many sinister functions he had never used. Though its power had waned significantly compared to the original Skull Sword, it still retained the ability to imprison souls.
As his physical form deteriorated, Carl's soul separated from it, attempting to regenerate. But at that mont, the holy sword was pulled from his flesh and thrust into his soul. A ferocious suction tore at his spiritual form, dragging half of it directly into the blade.
"Useless. Sealing or imprisonnt are useless against ."
Before Jenkins's very eyes, the soul chose to self-destruct. With both spirit and flesh annihilated, Carl reappeared in the air, not far away. He looked even more depleted after this rebirth, but instead of taunting Jenkins and Alexia, he gazed at Jenkins with a puzzled expression.
Jenkins, riding the unicorn, had flown to Alexia's side. Seeing Carl looking over, he asked:
"Aren't you curious what I was doing, disappearing for so long?"
As he spoke, he took a vial from his pocket—the culture of [Gear Germs].
"I picked this up right away. Then, I went to find sothing else. Can you guess what it was? Oh, Alfons Carl, you shouldn't have resurrected in front of so many tis. That was your one and only mistake."
The last ti Carl resurrected last night, Jenkins's enhanced senses had picked up on a wisp of black spiritual light flying in from the other side of the city. That was why he had deliberately "disappeared" during this fight. He was actually hiding in the shadows, waiting for Alexia to kill Carl again so he could follow that spiritual trail and track down the Cursed Item.
Carl stared at Jenkins, his expression a mixture of alarm and suspicion. When he saw Jenkins's right hand move back to the large cloth bag slung over the unicorn's side, comprehension dawned.
He spun around and tried to fly away, but had barely started when he slamd into a pale blue barrier. Ripples spread out from the point of impact, revealing the full extent of the translucent, cube-shaped walls that had completely enclosed the area.
Ancient runes and modern mathematical equations were harmoniously embedded on its surface, their combined chains representing the fundantal laws of the world. Alexia's power held complete dominion over this patch of sky. In a way, it was powerful enough to be called a maze-lock.
"Your resurrection relies on a Cursed Item, which ans that Cursed Item is your only weakness. It sounds a lot like an ancient lich's phylactery. I suspected you had sothing like B-04-3-7292, the [Soul Box], rather than the [Flesh and Blood Factory] you ntioned. But by following that 'thread' from the mont you revived, I found that you were actually telling the truth... Looks like I was the one playing tricks when we signed that contract last night."
He shook his head, pulling his right hand from the large bag. Cradled in his palm was a tal architectural model. It was a miniature factory, and as Jenkins held it, red blood oozed from its structure. He could faintly see fleshy tissue binding the tal seams together, and he was certain it was human.
This model was hidden in a slaughterhouse on the outskirts of Nolan, but the bodies beside it were not those of pigs, but of people.
"A-12-1-2909, the [Flesh and Blood Factory]. One of the most forbidden Cursed Items. It devours the living to create grotesque, flesh-based constructs. I don't know how you managed to make the flesh of others pay the price for your rebirth, but whatever the thod, you made a grave mistake."
The cat on his shoulder hissed at Carl, baring its fangs and claws, as if to second Jenkins's accusation.
"Now that the [Flesh and Blood Factory] has been cut off from its supply of living beings, it can't function. This life is your last."
As he spoke, he raised the sword in his left hand. Even though it wasn't his dominant hand, a torrent of spirit surged into the blade, causing it to radiate a chilling, terrifying power.
"No, Jenkins. Please, let ."
The petite woman at his side suddenly spoke. Jenkins nodded and had the pure-white beast carry him back a short distance.
In desperation, Carl spun and struck the pale blue barrier. Confirming he couldn't break through quickly, the despair on his face hardened into resolve. With a flick of his right hand, the burning black chains wrapped around his arm slithered over his entire body, quickly forming a suit of chainmail armor.
"Not since I beca a demigod have I been pushed this far. You said killing would be your proof of ascending to demigod? Woman, I feel it, too. The reason I've been stuck as a level 8 demigod is that I've always shied away from direct combat. Even against evenly matched foes, I'd feign weakness and wait for a chance to strike from the shadows. I believe the ti is now. Killing you will surely show the path to level 9. Fate itself is guiding to this."
An unnatural flush spread across his deathly pale face, and his entire presence shifted. Jenkins narrowed his eyes, clearly seeing the black spiritual light—the Cursed Item's influence—intensifying rapidly within Carl. His words might have been genuine, but it was just as likely the Cursed Item's power was driving him mad.
Now prepared, Carl pointed a finger at Alexia. A beam of black light shot toward the woman, who stood bathed in blue radiance like a goddess. She raised a hand, and a transparent energy shield deflected the attack. Then, whispering a soft incantation, she caused the runes on the surface of the blue cube that imprisoned them to connect and flow together.
The massive cube surrounding them rapidly morphed into a sphere. On its inner surface, tens of thousands of phantom Alexias, coalesced from pale blue light, appeared simultaneously.
The voices of thousands upon thousands of her chanting filled his ears, a sound like the frenzied prayers of zealots. The blue light intensified from a faint glow to a blinding radiance, until finally, even Jenkins was forced to shut his eyes.
He felt an imnse, overwhelming power surge in from all directions, but since he wasn't the target, it flowed past him like a current. When he opened his eyes again, Carl, the intended target of the attack, had been utterly vaporized. There was nothing left in the air. The spherical barrier slowly dissolved, leaving only countless motes of blue light drifting around them.
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