Chapter 534: Tripakana Mudra
Klein, his face smeared with dust and dried blood, felt the weight of every second in this atmosphere saturated with demonic mana. His breathing remained short, ragged. His blue eyes, however, kept their clarity.
Around him, the charred corpses of the first Homunculi littered the ground, their translucent bodies still smoking, their disproportionate limbs frozen in positions of agony. A pool of purplish blood spread beneath his feet. The moment had come to risk everything.
His hands intertwined, forming the Tripakana Mudra. His fingers traced mystical figures in the air, causing a vibration that emanated from the bowels of the earth.
A white glow began to radiate from the blade of his Katana.
The ancient runes engraved on the guard flared up one by one, releasing luminous particles that danced around him. The air began to crackle, white electric arcs snaking along the steel.
* *
< Fourth movement: Full Moon>
In his mind, as the energy devoured his reserves, faces flashed by. The imperial eyes of Kleopatra, her sovereign pride, her half-smile when she teased him about his commoner’s manners. The protective gentleness of Sierra, her trembling hands when she tended his wounds. The fierce coldness of his little Kara, that determination in her ruby eyes when she swore she would become stronger to protect him.
And Loriel, the one who had loved him for centuries.
"I swear to save you," he thought, letting that determination transform into raw power. This attack was his ultimate resort; it demanded sixty percent of his total strength, an energetic abyss that threatened to leave him vulnerable. But he had to sever the bonds that united the Antichrist to Aeshma.
Kris, posted behind a charred rock, observed the scene. His red hair was soaked with sweat, stuck to his forehead, and his dragon tattoo seemed to burn on his skin. His flaming spear vibrated between his hands.
Seeing Klein’s posture, a troubling intuition crossed him. That way of wielding the sword, that way of bending the knees before the surge, it resembled the tales about Kaiser D. Paragon. His fingers tightened on the wood of his spear. "Is it that bastard? We’ll see later..." he murmured to himself, chasing the doubts. But his eyes no longer left Klein.
The Antichrist laughed, a laugh that seemed to come from a bottomless abyss, while her right hand traced circles in the air, leaving purple trails.
"Do you really think your little light can drive away the Void?" She snapped her fingers. Three medium-sized Homunculi, with obsidian skin and limbs ending in blades, burst from the ground in splashes of black mud. Their red eyes blinked before they charged at Kris.
Klein was already in motion.
The energy of the Full Moon exploded. The Katana became a silver beacon in the night, and Klein surged forward, his body nothing more than a streak of white light cutting through the darkness.
The air tore with a supersonic bang, raising a cloud of dust and rubble. Kris reacted on instinct. As the first Homunculus plunged its blade toward his skull, he leapt backward, feet leaving the ground, to get out of Klein’s trajectory, and stretched his palm toward the Antichrist who was trying to reposition herself, her black wings deploying to distance her from the impact.
.
The gravitational pressure quintupled at once. The air became as dense as lead. The intermediate Homunculi were crushed on the spot, their bodies bending under an invisible weight, their bones cracking like glass before collapsing into heaps of formless flesh.
The Antichrist, caught off guard, was pinned to the ground, her knees sinking into the basalt. Cracks radiated around her limbs, spreading for meters. Impossible to deploy her own magic to counter Klein’s imminent assault. A vein pulsed on her forehead. For the first time, something like surprise passed through her iridescent eyes.
The energy of the Full Moon crossed the silhouette of Pandora/Aeshma. Klein’s Katana sank into her torso, not to pierce the flesh, but to implant a seal of purity, a network of luminous lines that spread like a spider’s web across the young woman’s skin.
A deflagration of gigantic flames exploded around the point of impact, illuminating the dark sky. A circular shockwave swept the plateau, leveling the rocks and hurling Kris ten meters backward, who landed on his back with a groan. The rock flew into shards, turning into a rain of incandescent projectiles that crashed onto the devastated landscape, digging smoking craters.
In the middle of the blaze, the Antichrist rose. Pandora’s body was marked, her tattered clothes revealing skin striped with burns and black lines that pulsed like veins. The smile remained fixed on her face, torn between pain and ecstasy.
With a gesture of her hand, she summoned dozens of Homunculi, creatures born of forbidden alchemy, with disproportionate limbs and translucent flesh. They burst from the cracks in the ground, from the shadows, from the flames themselves. Their strident cry tore the air, a sound of bone rubbing against glass.
"You are persistent," murmured the Antichrist through Pandora’s mouth, spitting a trickle of black blood.
The combat resumed with a new intensity. Klein and Kris fought in synchronization, a ballet of death and flames. Klein used his to disperse the groups of Homunculi, a circular white wave that projected the creatures against the rocky walls where they smashed in sticky splashes.
Kris impaled them with his wind spear, each blow releasing a spray of sparks that scorched the translucent flesh. The creatures howled as they burned. Klein’s blades, black and white, the Katana and its material shadow, sliced through the artificial flesh of the creatures, leaving behind trails of purplish blood and torn-off limbs that smoked on the vitrified ground.
He pivoted, his feet sliding on the basalt. A giant Homunculus, four meters tall, tried to crush him with a massive fist. Klein ducked, the mass of air grazing him, planted his blade in the creature’s knee, and toppled it in a spray of blood before slicing its throat.