The battle for Son's temper? (79)

"Kai Theron... Kai Theron... Kai Theron..."

The demons' voices tugged at my emotions, a haunting chorus that alternated between pleading and demanding, urging me to unseal my eyes and acknowledge them.

Drawing in a deep breath, I braced myself against the thorny tendrils that seemed to pierce my very heart.

The once-gaping wound on my shoulder had now fully closed.

[Participant 137, remaining health points: 39,818.]

Drops fell with a dull patter, coalescing into a puddle beneath me. Pushing away from the painting, I rose, the fragrant bouquet of blossoms filling the air. The scent of pollen teased my nose, inciting a sneeze that I stifled with a handkerchief pressed against my face.

Using the sword as a makeshift cane, I pressed forward.

At a certain juncture, I crossed through the water curtain. Clutching the hilt with increasing intensity, I halted, endeavoring to assess my surroundings.

"Kai... Ka-ai..."

A soft, melodious female voice stirred unfamiliar chords within my soul. The tumultuous emotions threatened to consume me whole.

"My sweet baby, Kai..."

I pressed on, at first with a slow pace, then quickening as if possessed. I moved like a sightless traveler, colliding with obstacles in my path.

My sword's tip found purchase within a pit, and an abrupt loss of balance sent me sprawling upon a bed of small pebbles. Their jagged points bore into my palms and face.

Yes, what in the world was happening?!

I could perceive the rain's temperature through steel, and even meager pebbles could penetrate my armor with ease. It was as though I bore no protection at all.

Frustration surged, and I clenched a fistful of the jagged stones.

"Turn around, Mom will help you..."

Supporting myself on elbows amid the fine gravel, I reluctantly waved my hand, Spiritual Weapon in tow, toward the voice's source.

The blade cleaved into living flesh, eliciting a strident wail:

"AHHH... It hurts... It hurts so much... My baby, why?..."

Resting my elbows on the gravel, I reached for the folds of my robe, tearing long strips to fashion an impromptu blindfold. Gently, I obscured my vision, relying on my mental senses to detect the demon lurking nearby.

From the previous battle, I gleaned an insight: with every slain clone, the subsequent one gained strength exponentially.

This phenomenon was likely linked to the 36th floor's revelation, and the New Rules experiment in the Arena appeared far from simplistic.

Embarking upon this venture, I comprehended that an indiscriminate carnage would seal my demise.

I rose to my feet, positioning the sword parallel to the ground.

"Why did you close your eyes, Kai?"

"Kai..."

The two voices melded seamlessly, demons multiplying in number, body convulsing involuntarily. Yet, my soul persisted in its gradual convalescence.

Hinging upon fortune, I swept my sword through the air. The demons receded, their words of reunion persistently murmured within inches of my ear. An unexpected stumble pitched me forward, and I plunged into a cold spring.

The bottom remained elusive, nor did the sides offer any purchase; I was left circling in a disorienting swirl.

Swimming to shore would be a difficult task to achieve; I'd be compelled to swim for at least a day and a half.

"Hold on... Hold my hand."

Del's voice, tinged with childlike innocence, wafted ahead. I extended my right hand, and his grasp enveloped mine. Yet, in that fleeting touch, smooth skin replaced the expected texture. A wry smile curved my lips as a volley of Poisonous Arrows found their mark in the demon.

"G-gah..." Warm splatters met the water's surface, followed by a splash as the demon plunged in.

With every stroke, the damp fabric clung to me. Struggling against the sluggish current, I moved forward, plunging into the bottomless unknown.

With a sharp jerk, an unseen force seized my shoes and yanked me downward.

Shaking my head to dislodge the shock, I first spluttered, then inhaled a gulp of precious air before succumbing to the urge and diving down. My fingers clamped around a furry hand, only for my shoulder—previously healed—to be subjected to fresh pain as fangs sank into the flesh, breaking it open once again.

With growing animosity, I yanked my hand free and thrust the sword into the clone's chest, only to have the demon's fangs sink even deeper. Amid the escalating struggle, I discerned that we were sinking further and further.

Gritting my teeth, I seized the sword with both hands, executing a vertical strike to finally rend the abhorrent form asunder. Planting my foot firmly upon the inanimate neck, I wrenched off the head, the Caretaker's muffled announcement resonating in the aftermath.

Desperation lending urgency, I propelled myself upwards with vigorous strokes of hands and feet.

Yet the surface remained stubbornly elusive.

Cursing my oversight, I regretted not acquiring an oxygen mask for this trial.

The air dwindled rapidly, the crushing sensation of suffocation intensifying by the second. A woman's voice, strangely melodic, whispered in my ear as something—hair?—coiled around my neck.

"Come on, open your eyes, take a look."

A shiver coursed down my spine, the grip was so vice-like that hope of release waned.

I unleashed a barrage of Poison Arrows in all directions, but this elusive clone eluded capture.

You vile creature.

Exhaling streams of bubbles, I discarded the soaked bandage, confronting a horde of demons—uniquely, they exuded an elegant charm clad in form-fitting attire. Soon, however, their attractive exterior parted, revealing a host of plump lips that enunciated:

"Son."

What?!

With no time to squander, I hewed off the blonde strands enveloping me.

The elven figures sprung forth from their perches, brandishing saccharine smiles. This time, no shadows obscured their true visage.

Diving into my inventory, I produced an invisibility cloak, doubly enhanced. My Spiritual Weapon found its mark in the nearest clone, while a summoning of Poisonous Arrows transformed the translucent water into a murky blend of blood and flesh.

Claws sliced through empty space as I shrouded myself in the cloak, gliding upward with measured pace.

The clones hunted, their search a perplexing dance. My lungs clenched, wringing every last molecule of oxygen from my bloodstream. Swimming grew laborious, a gnawing sensation that I was veering off course took hold. Then, my desperate ascent was met by a barrier of delicate ice.

The sense of impending peril heightened by the second.

Looking downward, the clones resembled tiny white dots canvassing a vast perimeter.

Lifting my hands above my head, I swam backwards, summoning forth a legion of Poisonous Arrows that hammered the fragile ice. The resounding commotion commanded the attention of the expectant-eyed elves, their cobalt irises agleam with anticipation.

The arrows' weight shattered the ice into fragments, preventing the demons from reaching me.

Drawing nearer to the largest fragment, I methodically poked my head through, then my chin. The hood of the cloak fell onto my neck like a damp shroud. With cautious breaths, I inhaled the frigid air.

A splash and a crunch marked the emergence of the clones.

"Where are you, my precious?"

One clone skimmed within meters of me. A section of ice struck my shoulder with a thud, triggering a hiss from multiple demons converging on my location.

I seized the ice with my fingers and summoned Shadowed Familiars, dispatching them to observe my surroundings from various angles. I bided my time, awaiting the opportune instant to flee.

One of the madames drew close, only to fix her gaze with eerie precision upon the very Shadowed Familiar through which I observed her.

Her snow-white tail rapidly transformed into paws, while pallid hands blossomed into wings as obsidian as night. Dozens of them ascended, wings fluttering, an aerial barrage aimed at the lizard as I finally clambered atop the ice.

Dismissing my Familiars, I lay sprawled, face-down on the ice, utterly drained.

Mermaids and winged beasts scoured the ice, above and below, in pursuit of me.

Each time they drew close, I released a Familiar to divert their attention away from me, a risky yet essential gambit.

---

[There are 5 hours left until the invisibility cloak is deactivated.]

A sudden beep—605′s signal—jolted me from a half-conscious state, my finger wiping away a trace of drool from my chin. I addressed him mentally:

[How much time remains until the test concludes?]

[18 hours.]

Hmm.

I raised my head, my gaze locking onto the three active status windows:

[Health Window:

39 800.]

[Endurance Window:

12 100.]

[Intelligence Window:

16 320.]

Not too shabby.

Lowering myself onto the sandy terrain, I surveyed the demons, now forsaking their deceptive masquerades. Their number had swelled to at least fifty.

No longer employing affectionate speech, they vented their frustrations by trampling the desert's sun-soaked expanse.

Yawning, I propelled myself to my feet, my mental tendrils detecting the presence of hundreds more clones concealed beneath the sand.

As the sun dipped, it kissed the horizon's edge, its fiery embrace swallowed by crimson clouds. Meanwhile, the full moon emerged, casting its faint radiance upon the distant opposite edge.

Twilight approached.

With an impending worst-case scenario in mind, I shucked off my invisibility cloak, reserving five hours for the unexpected, and summoned both the General's Armor and Spiritual Weapons to assail the first demon—one bearing a triangular tail.

In a flash, the shadow recoiled, sidestepping my advance.

So, do they bolster their strength even if I don't eliminate them?

A piercing whistle sounded behind me. Half-turning, I deflected the demon's attack with crossed forearms. The armor yielded, biting into my flesh, but I maintained my balance, traversing an additional two meters, feet still ensnared in the sand.

Another assailant lunged from above. The blade still clenched, I launched myself upward, embedding the sword in the clone's throat. Twisting the hilt, I severed the dense spine, met with a wet, audible crack.

"Kai Theron killed 14 archaic demon clones..."

It didn't take long for the demons to react. Sprouting wings, they took to the skies, homing in on me.

I dodged to the side, launching Poisonous Arrows at the obsidian forms. They nimbly sidestepped the lethal projectiles, their fangs clicking with excitement.

With a click of my tongue, I observed even more clones emerging from the sand, casting off their sandy shrouds as if awaking from a summer slumber.

Hollow sockets stared into my pseudo-soul, probing for latent fears.

In due course, they encircled me not only from above, but also from beneath.

Playing with me as a cat might with a mouse, they oscillated between approaching and retreating, punctuating their actions with repugnant laughter.

Perhaps they awaited a reaction?

Very well.

Activating the Breath Hypnosis technique, I anchored myself within the sand. Employing Shadow Steps, I lunged into the fray, my Spiritual Weapons cleaving into the demon horde.

Initially, they struggled to grasp the change in circumstances. Soon, their confusion gave way to a furious onslaught upon my afterimages.

Compared to the Golem King, these clones paled in comparison. They'd need to be dispatched at least six times each to reach his level.

Carving my way through the demons, I engaged in a macabre dance, acutely sensing their combative prowess escalating.

Soon, my armor was awash in purple blood, yet I yearned for more.

If one were to witness the genuine essence of Kai Theron, this was it.

Gripping a demon's skull, I sprouted claws and, tightening my grip, obliterated the clone's cranium, my actions unaccompanied by the Caretakers' reports.

Were they harvesting brains?

Shaking my hand free, I confronted a more resourceful foe with a swift kick.

The steel heel crumpled, morphing into a crescent shape. It's wiser to confront them with prepared weaponry.

A blow to my abdomen expelled a coughing fit, blood tinging my lips. But I didn't hasten to regain my footing, allowing the demon's pummeling. Wrapping my arms around its form, absorbing blows to my back, I emitted a primal roar, my claws severing the clone's lower back with a squelchy snap, expelling violet entrails.

I withdrew the sword from the sand and severed the paw of a demon attempting to gnash my shoulder.

While the armor could be restored, doing so consumed endurance—of which I was in dire need.

A whistle echoed, and a trio of foes descended upon me in tandem. The sand cushioned my landing, though not without my plunging knee-deep into the yielding substrate.

---

Having dispatched a total of 62 archaic demon clones, I battled for 14 hours straight. Bruised, my arm broken, and my stats plummeting, I donned my invisibility cloak.

At this stage, the Survival Crossroads ought to be drawing to a close.