The Last Circle-Chapter 22: The Might of Hell

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Nameless, without wasting any time, darted his crimson-fiery gaze at the behemoth on his left, staring into the empty eye sockets as he lit ablaze.

The behemoth, who stared back at Nameless's eyes, howled in pain as it grabbed its face, digging its thick and sharp claws into its skull, dragging them through the bone. Following immediately afterward, it dropped to its knees, letting tiny rocks impale what little flesh the behemoth possessed on its knees.

Seeing that it was incapacitated for the time being, Nameless cast his fiery gaze towards the other behemoth that tried to take advantage of him while he wasn't looking. Yet again, another howl resounded in the labyrinthine passages, acting as an ugly melody to the out of rhythm rushing footsteps.

"Curses!" he yelled, letting his otherworldly voice join the cacophony of wails and echoes, seeing that there was no reason to keep to himself anymore.

With clenched jaws, he raised his blade above his head, drawing a deep breath that felt oddly cool, as opposed to his fiery gaze that only grew brighter and flared out more. He dashed over to the behemoth on the left, and with a firm pivot, he performed a swift and precise slash. His swing tore through the air, letting the crackling arc of flame mix with the whistle.

But, even though his strike was powerful, swift, and precise, he found that the behemoth remained largely unharmed, mostly suffering from the flame arc that swaddled around flesh and bone. The air became tainted with the smell of burning flesh, casting the behemoth into a frenzy as it screeched and leapt back.

Quickly taking a look back, Nameless noticed that the other behemoth was still suffering from the effects of [Gaze of the Cleansing Fire], leaving him with enough time to stare back at the other.

His brows creased and a snarl appearing on his face, watching the behemoth draw sigils in the air, burning it with a bloody fire that traced its claw. Whatever it was doing, the last thing Nameless wanted was to let the behemoth take any actions, and thus, he slashed as fast as he could, ignoring his tense muscles.

One by one, a barrage of flame arcs collided with the behemoth, charring its pristine bones until they were reduced to ash. Even so, Nameless continued to slash the air. He was a master at his art, gracefully two-handing the giant blade, firing one arc after the other with little difficulty, matching the chaotic beat of the resonating footsteps.

Eventually, he succeeded in slaying the behemoth, but he wasn't sure if he but he was quickly faced with the issue of other behemoths having arrived already. Like moths to a flame, they flocked within a minute of the ensuing chaos having started, and they surrounded him.

'This is bad!' so he thought, gritting his teeth, gripping his sword tighter, trying to get them to look into his eyes.

And they did, but something was wrong. None of them revealed even the slightest hint of discomfort; not a sound; not a twitch of a claw. Whatever it was, he suspected that it was tied to whatever sigil the other one was drawing.

He narrowly dodged a whizzing claw, blocking against another, but his luck would turn up short after that. A claw grazed his forearm, tearing off a bit of a small chunk of his forearm, dousing its flames as it struck the ground.

With a grunt of pain—though he very much wanted to mimic the earlier voices—he turned into a stream of flame and latched onto a cliffside, wanting to reach a vantage point. He had to keep moving against his burning pain, however, for the behemoths had already rushed over, nearly digging their claws into his ankles, only failing because Nameless moved erratically.

A small piece of his forearm? He could afford that much, but there was no way he could afford risking any damage to his legs when the only form of travel was by foot.

'Would've been real nice to soar in the skies like that chicken.'

Once again, he turned into stream of flame, just barely getting out of reach of the behemoths' grasps, who began climbing the pillars as well. Luckily, with his ruinous-flame form, he was faster than them—at least, when it came to vertical movement.

He knew his plan was to take the fight to the surface, where he could make use of the lack of surroundings, as well as the wide openings between each pillar, but he also knew that it was a double-edged sword, as he thought:

'I'll have nowhere else to go if they do surround me. The pillars at least restricted how many of them could get within arm's reach, but now...'

Now, in the open, all of them could attack him at once, and seeing that they were surprisingly well-coordinated, the thought of fighting up top was scarier.

'But it also holds on distinct advantage,' he told himself, banishing his voice of doubt as his fiery form rose above the ledge.

Without a second thought, he ran for dear life, wanting to put as much distance as possible between him and the enemy. A gap was coming up, but with his enhanced mobility, clearing the jump became menial.

However, the rising behemoths also became problematic, for they were faster.

Much faster.

It took Nameless at least twenty strides of sprinting to reach the gaps before he'd have to jump...

... They were clearing the distance in ten, including their leaps. What was worse for him, however, was the fact that more behemoths were rising, reaching over the ledges that Nameless would just pass, pulling themselves up like zombies raised from an eternal slumber.

Nameless looked back. He was still at least ten pillars away from the first horde of behemoths that chased after him, and so he got to work with hacking away at the claws that reached over the ledges.

His slashing attacks, unfortunately, were quite ineffective against bone, taking him a long while to even destroy one hand. At the very least, the effort was fruitful, sending the behemoth plunging back down, now lacking a way to properly reach him.

But that meant little in the face of thirty or more behemoths now only five pillars away. He returned to fleeing, but he knew it would end up being pointless, and so he could only think:

'What am I supposed to do!?'

Just as he asked, he leap was interrupted as his shin collided against a claw, suffering minor damage in the process. But the real problem was that he was falling head first into the very place he wanted to flee.

Nameless proved to be a quick thinker, surging down and landing on his feet, though he still rolled to minimize the impact. At the very least, the behemoths weren't on his tail immediately, save for the one that made him fall down here—along with the rest that were quickly making their way over.

Within a fraction of a second, Nameless dashed to the side, dodging a lethal plunging attack, letting the behemoth dig its claws in the rock, which is struggled to get out.

Using this opportunity, for there most likely wouldn't be another, he used all within his power to butcher the beast, effectively doubling the bone count.

But his time was running short, and he had to get back on the move as the behemoths were beginning to make their way down, while more came from all directions.

'They're slow climbers, so I'll just go back up again... Hopefully that'll keep me alive.'