I have an infinite number of shikigami-Chapter 45 - 40. This punch is called the Materialist Iron Fist. _2
Chapter 45: 40. This punch is called the Materialist Iron Fist. _2
"Ha, it hurts so much—"
The vengeful spirit twisted like a snake, crawling toward the living.
Blood dripping on the ground quickly flowed toward Ito Tatsushi.
During its crawl, the spirit raised its head, its lips, swollen as if from repeated beatings, wriggled as if wanting to say something.
But as soon as it opened its mouth, only blood poured out, no words could be uttered.
"Master Ito, this thing is dangerous," Fujiwara Reya tactfully suggested, "why don’t you step back and let me handle it?"
"I, I... I’m not scared!"
Though absolutely terrified, Ito Tatsushi shouted in a show of bravado!
After a brief pause, he fumbled to pull out a bundle of Spirit Talismans.
Then, as if they were free, he threw all sorts of Spirit Talismans in his hand out all at once.
He cast spells with all his might, the talismans turned into dazzling lights, hitting the spirit, making it writhe in pain and howl incessantly.
But the spirit’s swirling malevolence didn’t dissipate at all, instead, it grew thicker with each lash it received.
"Senior, did you notice," Kasahara Asuka moved closer and lightly tugged on his sleeve, "this spirit and the one we encountered earlier seem the same, attacks that don’t kill it in a single blow will increase its malevolence."
Fujiwara Reya nodded and said to her, "I suspect they were artificially created in the same way."
Upon hearing this, Kasahara Asuka’s face grew heavier.
The vengeful spirit was obviously tortured to death, so a scraping attack not only fails to purify it, but also makes it relive the inhuman torture of its last moments, thus rapidly increasing its malevolence and doubling its strength.
After a relentless wave of attacks, Ito Tatsushi was panting, his forehead covered in sweat.
The helplessly beaten spirit lifted its blood-stained face, gazing at him with a pleading, imploring look, "Hit me a few more times."
Not highly aggressive.
But incredibly insulting.
Ito Tatsushi’s neck shrank, contemplating further bravado.
But he really didn’t have the courage to stay any longer, so he stubbornly said, "Seeing how pitiful you were in life, I’ll let you go this time, now leave quickly!"
The experienced Fujiwara Reya rolled up his sleeves and stepped forward.
He knew very well.
From now on, the vengeful spirit lady was going to go berserk.
It’s about to start counterattacking the weak priest.
Indeed.
After Ito Tatsushi’s words, the bloodied face of the vengeful spirit lady changed drastically.
The imploring, pleading expression turned into one of near tears, a desperate expression of grief... then into a terrifying expression of resentment, anger, and hysteria.
"Mm ah... uh ah..."
An overwhelming malevolence, from unknown origins, surged out, enveloping it and churning relentlessly.
Its strength instantly broke through to a higher level, its previously fragmented body rapidly expanded, blood vessels bulged visibly under the skin, and the tear-like pain made it persistently whisper, all the while blood gushed out from all over its body.
The sudden mutation directly scared Ito Tatsushi senseless.
"Ah—"
Frightened by the sudden turn of events, he stumbled back a couple of steps, tripped underfoot, and sat down on the ground with a scream, awaiting his end.
The spirit directly floated in the air and with a roar dashed towards him.
The distance was less than two meters!
With Ito Tatsushi displaying a blank expression, Fujiwara Reya dashed forward to confront the spirit.
What was he planning to do?
Rush in to wrestle with the spirit?
Was this still a priest... Ito Tatsushi was completely dumbfounded.
The spirit lunged forward, both pale, slender hands clasped together, aiming fiercely at Fujiwara Reya’s head to strike.
They looked like weak and soft little hands, but the wind breaking sound they made convinced that even a wall would be shattered by their strike.
Kasahara Asuka watched the scene unfold wide-eyed.
She felt her rapid heartbeat merge with the sound of Fujiwara Reya’s footsteps.
"You can do it..." she unconsciously whispered.
In the little witch’s cheer, Fujiwara Reya suddenly bent over, dodging the spirit’s hands while maintaining a forward stance, extending his arms forward, wrapping around the spirit lady’s slender waist.
At such close range, he could even smell the stench of decay emanating from the spirit.
Rest in peace... Fujiwara Reya mourned for it for a second, then exerted strength with his arms and waist together, hugging the spirit’s waist and performing a backward suplex.
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The spirit’s head made contact with the ground, and its neck broke with a sound.
In those pitch-black eyes on the head barely held together by some skin, there remained a deep-seated hatred towards the living, its obsession not fading in the slightest.
Fujiwara Reya sighed and raised his fist.
Brough it down hard.
The entire head instantly turned into countless tiny black sand grains scattered on the ground, and the spasming remnant of the spirit’s body immediately turned into the same black sand.
This...
Ito Tatsushi did not practice martial arts.
But Fujiwara Reya’s simple punch, in his eyes, was filled with a return to simplicity, a strength he found hard to describe.
Thus, the Ito Priest from Yoshiwara Shrine asked with a trembling voice, "What kind of punch is that?"
Punch?
Fujiwara Reya was momentarily stunned.
He had honestly never considered what kind of punch it was.
This punch, in essence, was just a casual smash, without any technique, only the strength gained from seventeen years of eating.
What should it be called?
Plain attack?
Ordinary attack?
Serious punch?
Whatever he thought of, it all seemed perfunctory.
After a moment of contemplation.
Fujiwara Reya answered solemnly, "This punch is called the Materialist Iron Fist."
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