The Progress

"Well, well, well. Good job~! I was sure I'd kill you on accident~!"

Walker congratulated his apprentice after fighting for a week straight. After the two meditated together, Walker retrieved a bottle from his Deadman's Stigma inventory.

It was a glass bottle with a surprisingly cutesy design. A chibi-like cat was waving with a furled paw at a bowl full of...bubblegum?

At the nose of the bottle were the words "Kaki's Bubblegum Vodka" written in a stylistic font that curled around its exterior.

"Heheh, we used to do this back home. I think this can explode...? Let's see!"

Walker vigorously shook the bottle with two hands before activating his Deadman's Stigma once again, a simple treasure chest appearing from the insignia as he hurriedly crammed it in there.

Seeing Teret tilt his head this way and that in palpable confusion, Walker leaned inwards and whispered behind the back of his raised hand.

"It's for later, okay...! A celebration for the end of your first training session by your first and most excellent teacher!"

--I CAN STILL HEAR YOU, YOU PSYCHO! He-mph!

Mara quickly stifled herself upon seeing Loki peek behind a corner, his hands covering his mouth as he giggled in derision. While she would've been mad...

--...There aren't any corners here, though? How exactly...

Loki laughed even louder, sticking up his middle finger as he disappeared! The system with a mischievous streak had taken a shine to messing with Mara when he randomly showed up in her system space.

It wasn't really random, though. It was just when he was bored...

The few days after.

Walker spread the Stained Ginnead Wall (as Teret had come to refer it by) further, encompassing 30% of The Wettened Woods. It became so much of an issue that on the various forums about Everything is Bury, a bunch of newbies started thinking it was an 'Event.'

Even the Reapers, which were normally lax and focused on those higher up on the Glorious Death-Board, looked at the events with renewed interest.

Many hooded figures sat on the eaves of the high trees, some Reapers even going so far as to leave their Waiting Room and view it personally.

In the eyes of one of the Reapers...there was a profound glimmer. The reason for this was simple.

Reaper Kiva, a Zenith grade psychopomp...he knew quite a bit about the skill O'Fallen Babel. He was an intermediary between the deathdeities and the Greater Wills and was a rare Reaper that had grasped multiple Authorities.

The man with dark brown skin and platinum locks that were in a close-cropped fade haircut laid a hand on his chin with interest. His black fingernails stood out amidst his fellow Reapers' general punkish yet colorful attires.

The only similarities they all shared were an ominous black cloak that obscured their faces from each other, and a black poled stake composed entirely out of mortisim. The stakes had altogether different shapes, each unique in some way to the Reaper.

"Well, my lovely apprentice. We have three days before that celebration of ours will happen. You may have tasted a lot of bitterness these two months...but...today is the day I will give you a glimpse of hell."

The power of The Stained Ginnead materialized in his open palm, condensing into a simplistic design with a black bodice and streaming dark purple outline.

This was the Mark Du Ginnead, the skill that Walker developed to track whoever he designates. Giving it to Teret as he rapidly felt their time together become short, this was unknowably a set-up to many hellish training sessions for "his lovely apprentice" in the future.

With a snap of his fingers, it fixed itself to Teret's aura. As a result, a small part of Walker's essence was imparted to the skeleton... making his whole being seem just a bit more morose and grim.

But this didn't hamper our upbeat skeleton one bit. If he had lips, they'd always be fixed into a smile as his normal state! The cheerfulness and curiosity he exhibited had already become a personality trait at this point.

He looked excited even now, his bones that were once brittle resolute, and sturdy. His years of Qi had even gone up to five, which elicited many surprises in Walker when he saw it.

"Tsk, tsk. The Carbon Planet might become a Carbon Black-Hole at this point." - Was what he said a couple of days ago.

"We will be fighting for three days while moving, do you understand? You will have to constantly be moving from place to place...which is a lot tougher than just picking an area. Take stock of your environment and use it to your advantage...especially since I'm gonna turn up the heat!"

The two mirrored each other's movements in perfect synchronization as they each put a hand on their waist and extended a thumbs up.

Shuaaa...

As their arms both descended, their upright thumbs upended and faced the ground. Then, both kicked off into a brilliant airborne parabola, eyes burning holes as sparks clashed from their gazes!

If Teret had blood, it would be rushing along his veins like a raging tide. Instead, the adrenaline that should not have been possible stained his mind, and his sparse thoughts chugged along relentlessly in his little skull!

He had grown as tall as 5 ft through the absorption of energy and increase of status, a whole foot higher than his original stature. While still short, he looked a lot more threatening...!

That is, if it weren't for the agreeably cute way the skeleton held himself. Even the Reapers felt their hearts beat as some even emitted "awwing" sounds. Teret was the kind of boy who could capture the hearts of most who had the fortune to meet him.

And coupled with the domineering yet irregular flow of his swift attacks that held no hesitation...an average person would feel a sense of discordance with his current movements. Because he was cruel and brutal when he fought, just as Walker had trained him over these two months.

With his bones glistening underneath the paled red sky and sharp strikes unfolding like the slashes of a razor, he glided along, decisively performing the Whisper Steps and mixing it with the hard-to-predict and ever-changing trajectories of the Spiral String Qi...he was shaping up to become quite the formidable fighter indeed.

But even these movements that would impress even a beast of a person were still but a mere fledgling in Walker's eyes. If Teret's moves left a lasting impression, Walker's absolute control would leave one in a crushing abyss of frenzied awe.

"Heh. No wonder The Wills refuse to let this man grasp an Undertaker's Stele. It's good that he has no ambitions and is just a thrill-seeker. I hate writing balance patches due to aberrations..."

Kiva mumbled and grumbled as the trees shook and swayed. As a Reaper, he had free access to the movements of Participants...and Walker wasn't even knowledgable about the world of Blendpunk Chthonim at all! He just knew about a few anomalous monsters with good drops at best.

It was the 3P Alliance instead that got more on his nerves. Hoarding all the materials in the few areas opened up to the Participants so far, he was considering launching a complaint that would delete their accounts if they hogged the Glorious Death-Board for a solid year.

It was good that the deathdeities didn't give a shit about them at all. Most thought they were too dull and too arrogant. Why would a god stretch out their hands to reward a dead that needed no help? They did not want to become their simple "buff."

In fact, very few of the deathdeities took notice of the Participants since most of their domains weren't released yet. Only one that was currently active and one pest of a deathdeity that should mind his own business was presently paying attention to The Wettened Woods.

[The Scorned Tatters curses you out and tells you to think your words louder.]

That one was Baron Criminal, a deathdeity of the Vodou faith. One of many Guere and Loa, he was renowned as the first criminal of his faith. A spirit that watched over the dead, he lent his favor freely to those who lead a life of crime with pride!

Which was why he was so pissed off. Like all Loa, he had a foul mouth, a vicious tongue lashing resounding in the ears of Kiva. An emblem of his existence in the form of cartoony manacles engulfed in a charcoal wisp floated beside one of the Reaper Kiva's shoulders, and he watched the proceedings with great interest.

That Stemmer was a fake gangster that brought up dogs. Not a real criminal, just a scumbag. But these two...

[The Black Gigantomonarch revs the engine of his dragon bike. If you have a disagreement, come right over. I'm bored, so let's fight, he says.]

...And that one was the Neo classed deathdeity Ur, a god of death so powerful that his very existence was toned down by The Wills and transmogrified into the god he was today.

He took the personality of a rowdy hotblooded young man in his late teenage years. Always looking for a race or a fight, he wanted to see someone fight without caring for the odds of their success.

Appearing in his Observer as a neon orange triangular hairclip with a flat shape atop it, the triangles bore a chibi robotic face that had either a comically large grin or comically wide frown.

He was interested in Teret, who had a rapidly aging soul and burgeoning resolve. The skeleton was a weakling more powerful than others at his level, which was reflected by his pitiful status.

Yet he had the nerve--no, the gall to confidently raise a weapon up to his monstrous master. If it was like this, could this heir-king look forward to something fun in the future?

Kiva drowned out the panels that materialized and dissipated rapidly in his ears, instead fixing his full concentration on the fight happening below his very feet.

....

Throw!

A lengthening string of qi undulated as it shot like a bullet, the skeleton whipping it around as bloodlust germinated within his mind. A nicked blade flashed in the monotonous red luster, and mists of mortisim billowed out from his frame.

His fingers were like ten skewers, two groups of five that were bound together with tape. Yet his wrists were flexible, his arts released as his digits became loose and limber.

Flourishing the dagger handle in a way that could be described as either punkish, rocker, or metal...his movements were gradually becoming stylized as he found what felt comfortable. It may look excessive and unnecessary, but Walker had to admit that it added to the unpredictability of his dear apprentice's moveset.

A spider, no, a cat. Walker could only visualize the skeleton as a baby chimera, combining consumed traits to morph into something much more significant. He was looking forward to the Teret that would appear five years down the line.

The skeleton's feet skidded along a string-qi strand, his bony heels grinding along as he drifted in midair. Then, as a fuscia pink outlined his form, he jumped!

The position that was unwieldy upon jump morphed into one of precision, his joints and bones working in tandem as he held the dagger in a reverse grip. When Walker flicked it away with his fingers, Teret dashed to the side in a crouch, shooting the deflected dagger at him for another attack!

A dark star burned as crosses were torn in the world, tearing apart the very fabric of the terrain. For a split second starry rifts punctured the foundation of the world, causing a tempest-like airflow to push Teret back.

After sending Teret flying like a cannonball with the end of his Sheathed Effigy he shot after him, running forward as if nothing escaped his notice. The grass was razed and dissected as geysers of blood shot upwards!

A blood-stirring fight was unfolding and accelerating even faster. There were no breaks to this wild ride!