Mentality

Matty thought he reacted fast. He thought he had casted Coral Defence in time to block the attack. Hydroguard Aura, a Passive Skill bolstering his defence by 25 points, he assumed he made it. Upon contact, his shield shattered and an explosion ensued. His arm took the brunt of the attack yet that did not prevent the Roc from spiralling down in dark flames.

"H-hang on!" Jules tried to pull the Roc up but it was too late.

Crash!

The large eagle fell head-first and Matty was flung into a pile of rubble that was once a house. He pulled himself up, accidentally gripping soft flesh too tightly, and hissed as the peeled skin on his arm was exposed to the hot air. The sensation was akin to someone knitting his burnt flesh and refusing to stop.

"Sing for me, Ibong Adarna!"

Jules' lovely command was accompanied by a bird's colourful singing. It was in a human language, though high-pitched as if divine. The black burn on his arm began to heal. A weary sight left Matty and he was able to pick himself up. He glanced behind him and saw Jules hung onto the Roc's back. The bird had protected her even in the face of darkness.

He resolved himself to do the same and opened up his inventory, equipping a small round shield of lesser quality that gave twenty points of defence and five attack. Offensively, it was lackluster—not that he had a choice. There was nowhere to hide. The buildings that had once made up the small gated town had become wood, stone, and rubble.

Jack the Ripper's footsteps were deafening, as was his voice. "Ibong Adarna…is that what I think it is…?"

There was no time to think. He was talking; therefore, he was distracted. 'Mist Veil!' Matty's shield breathed out a thick blast of fog that overwhelmed the red fog in place. It was his fog, his magic, and therefore Matty was able to have a vague sense of where his opponent was. 'Kraken's Tentacle! Kraken's Tentacle!'

Two whips of blue water snapped from his shield and smacked the figure in the mist. Contact was made, he felt it. However…

"Weak."

A hollow voice echoed and in a split second reaction Matty ducked under a tendril of darkness. The contrast in speed was asinine. His brain was barely able to keep track as he ran ahead and saw another incoming.

"Ngh!"

If it wasn't for Ibong Adarna's second song, he would have died. His deftness and agility spiked up and while his shield broke at the corner he was nonetheless in the realm of the living. Matty charged forward, instincts carrying to avoid another tendril, and swung his shield at the mask of the Ripper.

Clang!

He didn't so much as flinch. His mask took the entirety of his attack like it was nothing. His teeth grit together and Matty yelled, "Kraken's Tentacle!"

One second, a blast of water erupted right in his mask. In the following, a leg struck Matty's hip and tossed him several metres away. He ended up in another bulldozed building, lying on a wooden plank. The right side of his body felt numb. He raised his head in time to see the glorious metal colours of the Ibong Adarba, healing him with sparkles of red.

It wasn't just him, Matty heard the quiet groans of the defeated bodies nearby. The bird was healing everyone in its vicinity, excluding the dark entity responsible. Matty attempted to pick himself back up.

"Fast healing."

But a foot prevented him from doing so.

"I know some of these people are faking their deaths. It's not a big deal to me. Sooner or later, with that kind mentality, they'll die anyway."

Matty grinded his teeth, using all his strength to lift himself yet unable to. Jack was…calm. Unbearably calm, seemingly having no trouble keeping him down. Matty's fingers dug into the ground, arms bulging and his voice coming in ragged breaths as he tried and tried and tried, to no avail. A simple foot was keeping him down like a dog. The fiery rage in Matty's eyes burned brighter as he glared up at Jack.

"That's a good look in your eye. You better fight or else I'll butcher that woman," Words akin to a florist describing a precious species, Jack did not care one bit whether it was him or Jules that died.

Matty's anger surged. He summoned every ounce of strength within him, muscles straining, tendons flexing, but the foot remained unyielding. Frustration bubbled into a boiling rage and Matty's eyes flashed with an unbridled defiance.

"Get... off... me!" 

"You're weak," Jack stated. "Die knowing that your woman will see your head split from your neck and her eyes plucked from her head. It will be the last thing she sees."

An insurmountable pressure dug into his skull, his world collapsing and caving in. His vision went red as blood gushed down.

There was a whizz in the air and the foot that was about to crush his skull darted off. Matty pulled himself up, panting, and saw a blond swinging a bright yellow sword at Jack. His strikes missed. He wasn't alone. The blonde backed off and switched with a young woman with a long face and a side-tattoo. She and one other man came at Jack, weapons blazing, and tried to overwhelm him. They failed miserably as Jack summoned a scalpel and redirected their strikes.

Realizing they were making no headway, they stopped and so did Jack. Matty touched the back of his head, feeling the trickle of blood in his hair. Jules jogged up to him, her weak hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Matty gasped out, "Fine."

The blond in the tailored suit glanced over at the pair, a flash of recognition passing his eyes. Matty and Jules had a similar spark of remembrance. It was the sly British man from the train—Nash. His left hand wielded a sword while his right was armed with a gun. His people were sprinkled everywhere, surrounding the lone Ripper.

"I assume you're the one responsible for the army of pissing soldiers we encountered?" Nash said. "Your work is a bit too nasty in my opinion. Time for you to sleep with the fishes."