Morgan or whoever was controlling his body was furious. His power, against all logic, seemed to have a time limit.
—Hey, hey… Since when does my power have a time limit?
(Said "Morgan" with disdain.)
He had no time to process it. A wall of blood violently erupted in front of him, this time covered in twisted spikes that shot toward his body with lethal intent. Morgan jumped at the last second, dodging them by an almost impossible margin.
—I'm surprised… he dodged it again.
(Said the Zorath, slightly impressed.)
"Morgan" grimaced in disgust as he watched the monster regenerate once more, its body rebuilding itself as if nothing had happened.
—Would you do me the favor of dying already, please?
(Said Morgan, his voice laced with barely contained fury.)
The Zorath let out a wild, uncontrolled laugh, his voice tearing through the air.
—Ha ha ha… die!? No, that's technically impossible. My race was blessed with the gift of immortality. Blood gives us life, gives us vitality… the more I drink, the more alive I am. Though it's curious — you should already know that.
(Said the Zorath with false curiosity, his eyes glinting with mockery.)
—After all, being one of us, you should understand it.
(Added the Zorath, with a confused expression.)
"Morgan" frowned, annoyance and confusion battling on his face. He didn't care about the monster's arrogance — the only thing he wanted to know was why it wouldn't die. He had struck it twice with his most powerful attacks, and both times it got back up like nothing had happened.
—Now that I think about it… I don't see your Dharma anywhere. Do you have it somewhere hidden from plain sight?
(Asked the Zorath, inspecting Morgan's body with a piercing gaze.)
—Huh? What the hell is that crap?
(Responded "Morgan" with disgust.)
—Ha ha ha… fine. If you don't want to show it to me, that's okay. Either way… we've wasted enough time. It's time to continue.
(Said the Zorath, his voice suddenly cold and serious.)
"Morgan" immediately went on guard. He knew another wall of blood could appear from anywhere. But this time, it was different. The Zorath extended one hand and, with the other, tore into it brutally. Blood fell to the ground like dark rain. He repeated the process with his other hand. Finally, without hesitation, he slashed his own jugular in one swift motion.
Blood gushed like an endless fountain, flooding the ground until it reached Morgan's feet. What was once solid ground turned into a bubbling, crimson lake.
The Zorath twisted his head in an unnatural way, the sound of his bones cracking echoing like a sinister symphony. His eyes glimmered with an indescribable madness.
—Samsara… Opening Mode: River of Laments.
The Zorath's voice was cold and jagged, as if it came from the depths of the abyss itself.
At that moment, the air grew heavy and suffocating. Morgan felt the world itself turning against him. A wall of blood surged beneath him, but when he tried to jump, a deformed hand made of blood grabbed his leg, yanking him down.
The wall struck him square in the stomach. The force was brutal. He coughed up blood as his body was launched through the air. The moment he hit the ground, another wall erupted from below, catapulting him back up again.
The scene repeated itself.
Over and over again.
Each time he touched the ground, a new wall slammed into him, hurling him in another direction. There was no mercy, no reprieve. His body was tossed between the walls like a ragdoll, with no chance to fight back. An endless cycle, like a cruel torture device.
Morgan had become a human pinball.
The Zorath watched the scene with a twisted grin. He had Morgan completely at his mercy. He extended his palm, revealing a blood-red tattoo. The image depicted a wall from which a face, contorted in agony, screamed eternally.
—Come on, come on… let's have some more fun, gentleman!
(Said the Zorath with a malicious smile, his voice dripping with sadistic pleasure.)
End of the chapter.
Next chapter: Karma Transition Mode.