There were numerous occasions when Karma and Jinx would face life and death situations similar to this one, and while Jinx always felt that this was his last day on Canaan when facing a powerful opponent, Karma could legitimately feel how grave this circumstance was.
"We're going to die, we're going to die, we're going to die!"
For once, Karma agreed with him.
They've dealt with powerful vessels before, and this was their first time dealing with a viel whose depth of power was still a mystery to them.
The viel's form released small surges of electricity that then turned into full blown currents. Karma remembered what his master had said to him if they ever found themselves in a bind.
'If you were to choose between saving yourself and Jinx, choose...'
The viel released a shot of lightning from the darkening sky. Karma shoved Jinx forward like it was his wicked instinct to use Jinx to save his own skin.
"What are you--?!"
"This time...I feel sorry for you."
The electricity coursed through Jinx's body, shaking him and burning his flesh. He did not have the time to realize that he was betrayed by someone who he trusted even if the kid was an ass most of the time. His entire body convulsed. Drool surged out of his mouth. His eyes had rolled to the back of his head.
Karma drew another sign. A purple "X" appeared vibrantly. He grabbed the light and threw it as soon as the electric current died out. Jinx fell lifelessly on the ground. His appearance was unrecognizable. His flesh sizzled crisply underneath his torrefied skin. Smoke rose up from his form but there was no time to mourn for him.
The X grew in size and pursued the winged viel who avoided the twirling death cross as fast as he could.
Once the cross came in touch with his arm, the light latched onto his back and adjusted. One rod of light aligned to his back and the other one magnetized his arms horizontally. Metallic spikes that burned with purple fire nailed the viel to the cross.
Karma aimed his trembling hand at him. The cross reversed with one snap of the young boy's fingers.
"Death to the forsaken..."
Thorny vines emerged from nowhere and hugged his opponent firmly. His face was hitched to the cross. His skin broke and oozed with bright red blood. A red thread connected Karma and him. The young boy tied himself to the curse, willing to dig his own grave if it meant taking the viel with him.
The red thread wrapped around his pinkie finger. It was a tag-of-war. If none of them dies first, the both of them will perish as soon as the thread burns the distance between them completely. If one breaks free, the other one dies.
This was the reason why he hated using "The Curse of Crucifixion". In fact, he despised every skill he had because his abilities put his one foot to the grave.
A whip sprouted from his hand. He swished it vehemently, giving the viel agitated licks of scourges. The viel did not let out a single yelp but instead, he gave Karma a look of warning. Foamed drools came out of his mouth and red eyes gleamed with strength and tenacity.
Karma's heart pounded in exhaustion. The red thread pulled him closer as seconds passed by. His opponent had yet to lose his resolve and life.
The Curse of Crucifixion lowers down one's will power. The moment they lose their determination, the faster the curse of death takes over.
However, his opponent was thousands of miles away from quitting.
"My king is one. My king is the cardinal of all. My King is Kairon. I will not bow down to anyone but him." It was not a ritualistic chant. It was more of a proud confession that may be repeated hundreds of times by his mouth yet was dictated by the knightly heart and soul.
As the viel managed to detach his head from the rod of light, a low screech of what seemed to be a beast sounded from behind Karma.
He slowly turned his head and found that the beast he thought was actually a Level 3 Juvenile vessel. It was six to seven feet tall. Red bat wings were folded behind it. Its hair was blonde and flowy that stopped an inch from the floor. Eyes were consumed by darkness and a distinguishing feature that separated vessels and beasts were the intricate markings on a vessel's greyish skin— like they were tattooed from top to bottom as if they were canvases.
The vessel was wearing a black armour similar to a beetle's husk. A two-horned helmet protected his upper skull. Most vessels had numerous eyes scattered all over their bodies, limbs which were disfigured and unappealing to the eye, black goo that trailed them wherever they went, and different shades of tongue.
They reek with doom and the intent to spread darkness just from the way they lurk with malice. They were filthy to the eyes. This juvenile vessel was odd though. Their class usually raided in groups. They would never attack if they were alone.
The creature corrupted by sheol swayed side-to-side, swaying his sharp sickles with its movements. It raised its weapon at Karma. The boy had no other choice but to jump away the second it made a slash. Level 3 vessels were equivalent to unguided human teenagers. They were stupid, reckless, sexually curious, and pressured by their groups to commit chaos. To have a lone juvenile acting different from the studies made for them, Karma was starting to believe that this was his karma for betraying Jinx.
The red thread hauled him another inch. He was losing his time and his life. Because he couldn't lessen the viel's resolve, the creature was successfully struggling free from the cross.
At this point, Karma will just have to choose who his killer would be-- a brew of just every known predator in the history of mankind or a demonic adolescent with a farm sickle that had probably slashed a few throats.
The only one who could dispel the thread was his master. However, his master was nowhere to be found. He couldn't be killed that easily, right?
Right?
Karma was busy avoiding getting cut into ribbons of human flesh. The viel broke free from the cross. The sickles he was thoroughly dodging stabbed his shoulder when his eyes glanced away for a second. The vessel tossed him like a sack of feathers. He crashed against the tree trunk; his back arched with a loud crack.
The juvenile and the viel clashed. The viel took on defence while the latter was full on onslaught. He dodged the sickle two times. The third strike was unavoidable but the viel's skin scaled and hardened like a dragon's when the tip of the sickle spiked his arm.
Karma was a dying audience. His body was being sucked into another realm with the red thread burning short. Cold and icy water surfaced under him.
"So soon..." he shakily exhaled. "I--I don't want to go yet." His vision blurred. A figure of a dark cloaked man slowly consumed his vision.
"You're going to take me now?"
He had always appeared. Karma didn't know who he was. He sprouts whenever he abuses his powers.
With the last seconds of his life ticking, a familiar foot stepped down on the thread and ground on it, extinguishing the curse with an audible hiss.
"M...master?" Karma croaked. The cloaked man dispersed. His vision slowly returned.
"You're on milking duty when we get back home," Salem said in a laid-back manner.
Relief calmed the fear that he didn't know he had. Salem will always arrive the minute Karma would think that his time was up. It was annoying how he would consistently be proven wrong with his doubts. What made his Master Salem different from the rest of the world was that even if there was no hope of changing things, he'd still do it anyway just to piss off fate.
The viel grabbed the juvenile's face and electrocuted it—disabling all of its functions. It fell on its knees with a loud plop. Holy light radiated from the viel. He needed to send the vessel back to Sheol yet there seemed to be a conflict of interest.
Salem grabbed his feet and dragged him down for a simple forehead flip. It might be questionable to all who would witness the act, but the aftermath would explain it. A late arrival of a powerful hit struck the viel on his head and knocked him unconscious. If he was a mere human, he would have had his entire skull crushed. The viel stood firmly on his ground despite being dazed. His head was thrown back from the assault. The excom didn't waste a second to follow it with another blow.
Salem jumped and aimed the heel of his foot to the viel's head. There was a resonating crack, yet no knees touched the floor.
The excom glanced at him blankly. He inwardly applauded him for his dedication. In this era— faith, loyalty, obedience, and resolve were usually forced upon an individual. They follow it as a trend. They have it because it was mandatory. They believe because society makes them to, not because they want to.
They live in falsehood, breathe the air of control, and move as mindless puppets.
Though the viel had pure intentions, work is work.
"Kneel now or die later."
He was a sinful excom with holy powers and nothing will stand in his way to get two more cows in his farm.