803. Round 2

"Gah!" Dragos suddenly exclaimed when a sword pierced his lower back.

"Round 2 it is," Jonah agreed grimly. He had already managed to recover from the devastating wound just fine. When it came to regeneration, he was not far behind the psychopath cannibal.

The aura claw swiped at the swordsman, but this time Jonah made sure to evade flawlessly, leaving a deep wound on Dragos as he pulled away from him. Although he seemed to have recovered all damage, the wound still healed visibly slower.

While his attention was on the swordsman, a spear embedded itself into his shoulder. Monique frowned. She used <Athena's Throw> and aimed the Fang of Decay at his spine, but Dragos managed to shift his body in time to dodge a fatal hit.

Despite dodging the fatal hit, it seemed like the Mental Disruption had taken effect, as Dragos started swaying and looking around in confusion. With a twitch of her wrist, Monique used a skill of Athena to retrieve her thrown spear while charging forward to attack with Tatzel's Sacrifice while Dragos was out.

Just enough time for Jonah to enter a sword dance. Elegantly like an acrobat he danced and built up the number of blood streams around him before charging at the confused chosen of Ammit. The streams of blood that followed him like ribbons, were like a meat grinder.

A this point Jonah understood that the reason he healed slower was not just because of the Vitality he absorbed from the man. The wound slashed by the sword healed even slower than the gashed left by the blood ribbons. There was something about the sword that hurt him even more, but Jonah didn't have the time to think about it. He concentrated on using the man's own blood to create even more weapons.

...

The influx of damage helped Dragos escape his confusion even quicker. Under his breath, he kept chanting skills as he evaded the attacks of Jonah and the three Golems. A moment later he managed to land a kick on the masked man, catapulting him into the distance while his claws severed the legs of another golem.

Ignoring the two golems left, he seriously faced Monique who was clad into an Aura of Fervor, as if his confusion and weakness had been a lie. The supernaturally fast claws grabbed the spear that was aiming for his face. Unsuccessfully. The spear he had wanted to grab had vanished, instead, it appeared at his waist and stabbed for his kidney.

He could feel it. The spear ignored all his defenses and resistances. He tried moving out of the way, but it was too late. <Iapeto's Stab> blew a junk of flesh out of Dragos' waist the size of a basketball, revealing his intestines, lower ribs, and upper part of his pelvis.

It was the worst wound he had ever received and he could feel that it was not healing. Dozens of announcements told him that his resistance to curses, to dark magic, and status ailments had kicked it, but he failed to completely resist. He felt a dark demonic energy permeating the flesh around the wound.

He angrily swung his claws at the spearwoman while trying to heal himself. Using <Triple Chanting> and <Quick Cast> be tried using <Cure>, <Heal> and other support skills and spells, but even <High Heal> could only slow the festering. All while still fighting the elusive spearwoman who turned out to be a tough nut.

She was a fortress of dodges, blocks, and counters all the while being covered in an increasingly dense aura of gray divinity that slowed and deflected his attacks. He had to layer several buffs to overcome her through sheer power, finding, and opening.

When he finally thought he got her cornered, she suddenly vanished, switching places with a wall? No! With their Tank. His aura claw which was about to tear out her heart, crashed into his humongous shield, only leaving a little gash. It was just a small impact on his shoulder, but he was instantly flooded with notifications.

<Ding! You have been afflicted by Fear>

<Ding! You have resisted Fear.>

<Ding! You have been afflicted by the Curse of Burden>

<Ding! Your Curse Resistance is too low. You have failed to resist the Curse of Burden completely>

<Ding! You have been restrained by Aload's Destiny.>

<Ding! Your Status Ailment Resistance is too low. You have failed to rest Aload's Destiny completely. Duration 2 minutes.>

With a mere tough, he had been afflicted by a curse and a skill. What kind of skill was this, that it not only overcame his lv.7 Status Ailment Resistance but still bound him for two minutes!? Several more impact stacked the Curse of Burden to the point that even he, with almost 700 strength started feeling a tremendous weight on his shoulders.

The two golems also didn't stand on ceremony and tried their best to take off his legs. His skin was tough and his defense high, but since he couldn't move they started hacking pieces of his legs like they were felling trees. It would have been hard to endure, without <Pain Resistance lv.9>. Then suddenly, all attacks stopped.

"<Water Prison!>!"

"<Lightning Storm>!"

He heard the cries in the distance. He was suddenly encased in a water sphere that added more pressure to him, in addition to the Curse of Burden. As if the water pressing the air from his lungs wasn't enough, dark clouds formed above his head and dozens of lightning struck him and the sphere.

The electricity jerked his body and he feel his muscles and tendons ripping from his bones, while the water surrounding him became so had that he was being boiled alive. Without the shields, he cast in the last seconds and his various resistance skills, he might have actually died.

Nonetheless, it was the first time he got a peak at his own mortality. He was never before so clear about his own fear of death, as much as at this moment. It was at this moment, that he finally felled a decision he had been delaying for a long time.

…

When the lighting strikes finally ended and the water sphere was releasing, Dragos flopped to the ground, seemingly dead, but the party had gotten no death notification. Monique was about to throw an aura spear at him when Dragos suddenly started twitching and cramping as if he was still being shocked.

"AAAaaaaahhhrgg Aaahh, " he screamed out his lungs. It was the first time the party heard the psychopath scream out in pain. It looked like he was suffering terrifying pain in his last death throws. The party hesitated to get closer unsure what he was up to. When he finally fell silent they saw a round object roll from his hands.

Before they could get closer, things escalated. They watched in horror as the massive wound at his side closed. It did not regenerate anything, it simply stopped festering and grew new skin on the still-healthy flesh. One of his eyes had popped during the electric bath, the empty eye cavity was simply grown shut with skin.

Boiled tissue and dead skin slid off his bones like pudding skin, being replaced by fresh skin from neath but leaving the new places, for example, his head, bald. The result of the grotesque transformation was that the formerly almost handsome man was turned into an abomination that looked like a half-rotten undead covered in fresh skin.

They could only stare in horror as Dragos scrambled on his knees, staring at his hands and body as if he himself was in disbelief. Moments later the creature screamed in despair and anger.

"No, no, this can't be...This isn't what was supposed to happen... This shouldn't- I shouldn't! You! It's all your fault I turned into this kind of monster!" he screamed like a banshee. As he screamed, his whole body was covered in the same dark, murky aura that had previously only covered his crippled hands.

"You will pay for this!" he said and vanished.