The Slayer Ascension: Cursed and Blessed.-Chapter 59: Stay down

Chapter 61

The group was bewildered by the sudden turn of events.

None of them had expected Gazel to fail.

The procedure itself was not difficult. It did not demand willpower or brute force. All Gazel had to do was channel his Azura, link it with the rotating orb, and shut it down. Simple. Clean. Controlled.

That was the plan.

What came next was not.

A violent repulsion slammed into Gazel’s chest.

The impact was brutal, unforgiving. It carved a fresh layer of pain onto an already battered body. He crashed into the ground, bounced, and barely managed to stop himself on one knee. His breath hitched, blood trickling down his chin.

But the pain was not the worst part.

The realization was.

His eyes widened slightly as understanding crept in, cold and unwelcome. He had been unsure before. Doubting himself. Now he was almost certain.

He had channeled the dark essence.

Not the light gem resting dormant within him.

He was seventy percent certain of it. And that was enough to terrified him.

Being cursed and blessed at the same time had never felt like a gift. Not now. Gazel had only recently become a Blessed human, but the curse had been with him since childhood. He had spent years wrestling with the dark essence inside him. Suppressing it. Controlling it. Keeping himself from slipping into his demonic form, a form with far more demerits than merits.

A form that made him feel less human.

Different.

Now the very thing he had trained so hard to restrain was the thing answering his call.

How was he supposed to shut down the orb when he did not even understand what his Azura truly was, let alone how to manipulate it?

Before his thoughts could settle, chaos struck again.

The samurai moved.

In one fluid motion, it swung its blade, sending Blaze and Xon flying like arrows loosed from a bow. They smashed into the ground not far from Gazel, bodies skidding across cracked stone.

The duo rose faster than expected.

Pain screamed through them, but they had no luxury to linger. What should have taken several seconds took less than five. Survival forced speed.

"I’m sorry," Gazel said quietly.

His eyes were empty, but his mind was anything but. Thoughts tangled and clashed violently behind that calm exterior.

"Save it," Xon snapped. "We’re in a worse situation now."

Blaze turned, about to ask what he meant, when Xon continued.

"The five minute timer is up."

Terror crept into his voice, raw and unmasked.

That was when Blaze saw it.

The broken, hollow eye socket of the samurai was rebuilding itself. Body knit together in an instant. Structure followed. In the blink of an eye, the eye was whole again, same with the other inhuries it body bore.

But its eyes no longer glowed yellow.

It burned with an eerie blue light.

"We’re in deep, seething trouble," Xon muttered through clenched teeth.

For the first time since stepping into this insane world, doubt crept into him. Real doubt. A mistake. That was what this felt like.

Then he remembered why he was here.

How close he was.

His heart steadied.

If he died here but obtained what he came for, it would still be worth it.

No.

He corrected himself.

He would leave alive. And he would take his prize.

Xon’s gaze shifted to the two newcomers.

Honestly, he had not expected them to last this long. They were supposed to be greenhorns with little to no battle experience. That assumption had been shattered.

Both possessed real combat experience. Rich, ingrained, instinctive.

What shocked him more was the white-haired one.

Gazel.

His battle IQ and skills lagged behind the red-haired boy, but his experience ran deeper. Darker. More brutal. It showed in every movement, every decision. He fought like someone who had survived things that were never meant to be survived.

"Why do you keep talking like there’s no way out?" Blaze snapped.

Frustration cracked through his voice.

His Azura was running dangerously low. Every second drained him further. It took everything he had just to stop himself from burning out. He did not even want to think about the state of his body right now.

Hearing Xon, the strongest among them, speak like this was breaking something inside him.

Hope was slipping.

Bit by bit.

"You don’t understand," Xon said. "It will fight with full force now. With the sword."

Gazel was a breath away from blurting it out. There was no weapon in sight. No sword. No spear. Nothing on the samurai’s side.

Then the next moment happened.

Gazel clamped his mouth shut.

The samurai’s hand plunged into its own chest. Fingers sank deep into clay flesh, grinding, tearing. When it pulled back, it dragged out something glowing. A molten hilt, half-formed, dripping heat. From it, a blade began to crawl into existence, growing inch by inch, pouring itself out like living metal.

By the time it was done, the samurai stood there holding a massive greablade, radiating power so dense the air screamed around it.

The battle had already been impossible.

Now it dropped even further, plunging into something far worse with every passing second.

"I don’t know about you guys," a voice said, rough and sudden, "but I’m not dying here."

Blaze.

He stepped forward.

His body was wrecked. Burned. Cracked. Hanging together by stubborn will alone. He ignored all of it. Flames erupted from him as he channeled Azura, incinerating what remained of his shredded clothes. Light flared until he looked like a small sun standing against the darkness.

The fire around him crackled with savage power.

So did the strain.

His body screamed, pushed to the edge of collapse.

"I’m not stopping," Blaze said, teeth bared in a broken smile. "I will become the strongest Gold Shural there ever was. I can’t die before the journey even begins."

Then he charged.

Straight toward the battlefield.

Xon smiled.

Without another word, he followed, twin daggers flashing into his hands just in time.

Steel and flames exploded into motion.

The two humans slammed into the clay monster with everything they had. Fire roared. Blades screamed. The ground shattered beneath their feet.

It still was not enough.

They could not push it back.

The samurai was a monster.

Every swing of its greablade carried enough force to split either of them clean in half. Their attacks struck, burned, cut, and shattered, yet barely left real damage behind.

Gazel stood frozen, eyes locked on the carnage.

They’re strong. Stronger than I thought.

But it won’t be enough.

Not for long.

There was only one thing left. One thing he believed might twist the tide, even a little.

Gazel closed his eyes.

He reached inward, toward the dark energy running through half his body. The moment he touched it, chills ripped down his spine. The power was cold, heavy, suffocating. It dragged his emotions down with it, twisting them into something deeper, darker.

This power had never been kind to him.

More often than not, Gazel lost himself when he used it. Became a terrifying demon instead of who he truly was. Only a few times had he managed to stay himself.

The risk was too great.

That was why he never considered it unless there was no other choice.

And this was exactly that kind of moment.

His only option was his demonic form.

Gazel grabbed the dark essence inside his body and guided it toward the dark core near his heart. He tried to merge with it.

The result was instant rejection.

The dark core repelled him violently.

Gazel coughed up a mouthful of blood, pain detonating through his chest. His vision blurred, darkness clawing at the edges of his mind.

He did not let it take him.

If he passed out, this ended. His life ended.

And that was unacceptable.

He tried again.

Channeling every shred of dark essence he could gather, he forced it toward the core once more. The pressure felt like his heart was being crushed between grinding stones.

He did not let the blinding pain drown him or drag him into unconsciousness. That would be the end of his life, and that was something he refused to accept.

So he tried again.

Channeling the dark essence raging through his body, Gazel forced it toward his dark core once more. The pressure nearly tore him apart. What he managed to achieve could only be called a half success at best.

Blood poured from his mouth in another violent coughing fit.

The battle never paused.

The samurai continued its onslaught against the duo without a single moment of respite. Large, brutal wounds carved through both Xon and Blaze, flesh torn and scorched beyond recognition.

Blaze knew it. His time was running out.

Any second now, he would burn out completely.

Still, he pushed forward.

Just a bit more. One more exchange. One more strike.

That thought alone was the thin thread keeping him on his feet, forcing his body to keep fighting a battle already doomed to be lost.

Xon was not faring much better.

He was in slightly better condition than Blaze, but only slightly. Several deep gashes marred his body, blood soaking through his clothes. Even so, his gaze remained sharp, steady, purposeful.

With a heavy strike, Xon slammed his blade into the ground.

The earth shifted violently beneath the samurai’s feet.

For the first time, it faltered.

The clay giant dropped to one knee.

Blaze moved instantly.

Understanding Xon’s intent without a word, he leapt high into the air and brought down a cracking blow straight onto the samurai’s head.

It was not enough.

He was too weak.

The samurai was too strong.

It raised its greablade, blocked the attack with ease, then smashed Blaze with the hilt. The impact sent him flying, his body crashing hard and deep into the far end of the room.

Xon surged forward.

He slammed a hand onto the samurai’s head, trying to shut down the final orb. His essence barely began to flow before a massive hand wrapped around him.

The samurai grabbed him.

Then slammed him into the ground.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Xon felt his life slipping away with every brutal impact. Finally, the samurai hurled him aside like broken debris.

A massive fireball smashed into the samurai’s body in the next instant.

The impact forced it to turn.

Its eyes locked onto the figure who dared attack it again.

Blaze.

The flames around Blaze’s body flickered, then began to die out. He collapsed to his knees, injuries vast and horrifying. His eyes rolled back as he fought the overwhelming pull of oblivion.

"Stay down," Blaze muttered.

His hand fell limply to his side.

He was done.

The samurai’s eyes lit up with twisted joy.

It charged.

When it reached Blaze, the blade thrust forward, aimed straight for his head.

A figure stepped in front of him.

White hair danced through the air as the blade plunged deep into the side of the newcomer’s chest.

Blaze’s eyes widened.

"Gazel," he whispered.

The white and black haired figure slowly raised his head.

The blue eyes were gone.

In their place burned glowing red, demonic and merciless.

Gazel spoke, his voice guttural, layered with something inhuman.

"You heard him. Stay down."

He grabbed the blade embedded in his chest and ripped it free without hesitation, blood spraying as if it meant nothing. Then he leapt.

The strength he displayed was something Blaze had never imagined Gazel possessed.

Gazel seized the samurai’s head.

Twisted.

And tore it free with raw force.

The body collapsed.

But Gazel was not finished.

He slammed the severed head to the ground at his feet and crushed it alongside the orb embedded within.

To be continued.