Seth fell back as the wraith sailed harmlessly passed over him, the slime still covering his face as he slammed against the floor, his weapon clattering to his side. Thankfully, Coal was still pinning down the ghoul using just his body weight.
Before he could even try to remove it from his face, the slime leapt off by itself. It hit the floor with a plop and squirmed its way over to his dropped weapon. God only knows what a creature like that would have wanted with such a thing, but he didn't have time to dwell on it as the Wraith was making another dive.
Seth rolled backwards, thankfully only gaining another cut, this time on his leg, rather than losing the entire thing to those deadly weapons. But as he came out of the roll and got to his feet, he saw something strange.
The smokey horror, which was now positioned between him and his puppet, recoiled in pain when it landed. More specifically, it had recoiled when its ethereal arm tried to push through his own ethereal threads. The actual result caused the threads to move slightly and the wraiths arm to hiss and smoke, this time a pure white smoke that ate away a portion of its arm.
'Of course! This thing must be some sort of soul-based lifeform. This is probably what happens when someone's soul score is too low. The only way to touch a soul… is with another soul.'
He couldn't help but smirk at his revelation. This impossible to beat enemy, this untouchable wraith, now had a weakness.
"Hey Silver! Catch!"
He suddenly heard from the side, snapping him out of his thoughts. Glancing to the side, from where the slime used to be, he saw a woman standing instead with his spear in his hand. More accurately, he saw a slime in the shape of a woman.
Her body was the same semi-transparent blue goo that had smothered him. She had naturally grown arms, otherwise how else would she hold something, yet no legs. Below her waist simply blended into a pile of slime, like a dreadful attempt at a snowman.
Her face was bland. Not in the sense that she wasn't pretty, but more like it was a hazy memory of what a face should be.
No lips, just a slit that functioned as a mouth, the crude shape of a nose without nostrils, and oval eyes without pupils or iris. It was if a child was asked to draw it.
She didn't give him time to consider or further scrutinise her odd, half formed looks, as she lifted his spear and tossed it to him.
Catching it, he immediately lifted it up into a defensive position. Holding it with a hand at each end, horizontally in front of him, just in time to meet the glistening claws of the black spirit.
He shifted his stance, pushing the wraith to the side as he circled his left hand, wrapping the ethereal strings around his hand before lashing out with a rapid punch that slammed against the smug, incorporeal face of the not so friendly ghost.
The Wraith let out a wail of pain, reeling back as its smoke covered face hissed as if it was covered in acid.
"How did you do that?" The slime girl said from the side, watching on in serious confusion at the unorthodox ghost busting technique.
"Nevermind that, you take this. Deal with the gangly one. Leave this one to me." Seth replied, commanding the spear to snap in half before tossing the half with the point to the girl. While the point may be useless to him, it was nice to have some kind of defence.
"What about the big one?"
"Leave him, he's harmless to us. Just go while he's got that thing pinned down."
"If you say so…" She muttered, the lower half of her body suddenly splitting into legs as she hurried over to the wrestling pair.
Seth was doing his best to have Coal keep him pinned down, mainly relying on his overwhelming body weight to bear down on the squirming ghoul. Every scratch, bite or kick from the wretched thing made Seth glad that he didn't feel any sensations from his Puppet and only shared their sight.
Focusing back on the wraith, he spun the stick in his hand and glared at it. They stared each other down for what seemed like an eternity before finally lunging at each other.
***
Hoping that the silver eyed man knew what he was doing, Cynthia gripped the shortened spear tight in her gelatinous hand so tight that if she still had knuckles they'd be turning white. She hurried over to the wrestling pair, glancing warily at the one made of stone.
The flailing ghoul, despite being pinned down, didn't take the approach of a newcomer lightly, especially with this one being distracted by the one currently pinning it down.
Using one pair of hands to hold the arms of the stone giant, it used the other pair and stabbed them upwards into the chest of the approaching girl. It let out a high pitched, maniacal cackle as it felt its emaciated fingers plunge in deep without any resistance.
However, instead of letting out a cry of pain or even the smallest whisper, Cynthia simply looked down at the hands that were buried wrist deep into her chest. The only thought that crossed her mind being,
'Ugh, Gross. I have no idea where those things have been.'
She let out an irritated sigh before pushing forward more. Forcing her jelly-like body further down the ghouls arms, much to its confusion, until she was standing over its head looking down at it like a disapproving mother.
Lifting the spear above her head, she plunged it down swiftly and without a single hint of mercy. Repeatedly stabbing into it over and over, eliciting squawks of pain that soon became replaced by weakening gurgles as it drowned on its own blackened blood.
Finally, after a few dozen brutal stabs in its gaunt chest, it fell still. The only thing keeping it from hitting the ground was the stone giant still holding it, and its arms being buried in Cynthia's slimy body.
[Well done hun~ You got yourself a Requital.]
A sultry and feminine voice whispered in her ear as she turned her head 180 degrees like an owl, to look at how the other person was fairing with his opponent.
***
Wham!
Seth's fist, wrapped in the ethereal threads, slammed against the Wraith again. The wretched phantom had one set of its claws wrapped tightly around his defensive stick, while the other was coming in for another swing at him.
He quickly pulled his hand back from the punch, grabbing what should be its wrist, and stopped the claws barely an inch away from his throat.
This thing was giving him far too many close calls. He never realised how awkward punching with his non-dominant hand would be until it was his only lifeline in a truly mortal combat. Not to mention the fact that, while it allowed him to hit the damned thing, it didn't seem to be making any lasting damage. The smoke would hiss and partially clear, but after a few seconds it would slowly start to reform.
As he held the claws at bay, his arms trembling from the strain, he desperately searched for a way to defeat this thing. And that's when he finally saw it.
Hidden behind the forest of black, smoky wisps was a small speck of grey. A tiny difference in its form that couldn't be any bigger than a marble, but a difference like that couldn't be without a purpose,
"Fuck…you…Casper!"
He grunted through gritted teeth, letting out a strained cry as he pulled the claws further away from his throat, before letting it go and diving forward. Instead of dodging backwards, he plunged himself through the incorporeal body of the Wraith and grabbed towards where he saw the grey marble, a pervasive chill running through his body as he did.
Stumbling out after a few moments, he opened his hand to see the small grey ball within his grasp. As memories of the Reforming Skeleton that gave him his spear flashed within his mind, he wasted no time in crushing the ball like an egg. As the ball shattered, the Wraith let out one last mournful cry before the smoke that made up its form simply dissipated. The claws clattered to the ground, before dissolving into puddles of silver.
"Who cares if it can't bleed? It can still die."