Marcelus's stats had some changes over the months.
***
[Bip...Bip... Analyzing the host...]
Name: [Marcellus ???]
Rank: [Mundane]
Strength: [2.9]
Constitution: [3.0]
Stamina: [3.0]
Agility: [3.2]
Spirit Force: [0.01]
Ether Core: [42.5]
Attributes: [calm heart][sensitive]
***
Marcelus's strength had undergone a staggering transformation.
His physical abilities—strength, speed, and agility—had escalated to a level thrice that of the top echelons, a feat that seemed almost imaginary to him.
Alongside these physical transformations, Marcellus experienced an unexpected surge in a wealth of Ether cores after dispatching his assailants.
It was as if fortune itself had favoured him, bestowing upon him riches that materialized seemingly out of thin air.
Yet, despite these dramatic changes in his physical and material circumstances, one aspect of Marcelus's development remained relatively unexplored: his spirituality.
This facet of his being presented a new challenge, one that he grappled with as he sought to cultivate.
In the midst of his introspection, Marcellus found himself engaged in the routine task of checking his stats.
It was during this moment that Ayden placed an intriguing item into Marcelus's hand, sparking his curiosity. "What is this?" Marcelus inquired; his interest piqued.
Ayden's response revealed that it was loot acquired from their recent encounters. "I found it on the guy you took down," Ayden explained.
"Their weapons vanished, but their bodies remained. I found the same type of loot on the one I killed. They must have looted the citadel."
Marcelus wrestled with a whirlwind of emotions as Ayden casually mentioned the word "killed".
The reality that he had taken a life hit Marcellus with a mix of fear, pain, and shock. It was his first experience with such a direct and haunting confrontation with mortality.
The revelation that he had ended someone's life was jarring and unsettling, one that he struggled to come to terms with.
Seeking solace in the justification of self-defence, In his mother's religion such an act was permissible, one of the tenets of God of Combat was self-defence, noble even engaged in single combat if they felt the least bit slandered.
Marcellus tried to rationalize his actions.
He convinced himself that what he had done was a condition for his survival, a response dictated by the primal instinct for self-preservation.
The chaotic encounter had forced his hand, and he had reacted instinctively, fighting to ensure his survival.
However, he was unaware of the far-reaching implications and the ripple effects his actions would unleash.
Marcellus and Ayden continued their exploration of the citadel.
They traversed through dimly lit corridors, with Ayden demonstrating his proficiency in creating fire, torchlights—a skill that swiftly illuminated their path and dispelled the shadows that clung to the ancient stone walls.
As Marcellus grappled with these internal conflicts, he shifted his focus to the item Ayden had placed in his hand.
It was a necklace, a simple yet intriguing piece adorned with ceramic beads the bead had sigils.
The necklace exuded a warmth when illuminated by torchlight, its mundane appearance belying its potential significance.
He decided to view it through his medium like he had done with his sword.
The necklace bore a tag that read:
[Rank: Mundane Charm]
[Ebon Veil: A swift, shadowed reinterpretation—a deliberate corruption of the once tranquil "Veil of Tranquility," introduced and popularized by the revered Basilica Sanctus.]
[Enchantment: Shields against external malevolence influencing your subconscious]
Marcelus's thoughts raced as he considered the implications of this discovery. "My mind's been playing tricks on me since I arrived," he mused as he wore the charm.
As they moved deeper into the citadel, they stumbled upon intricately etched doors and a grand watchtower that hinted at hidden treasures and untold stories.
The watchtower, in particular, captured their attention, its imposing presence suggesting a wealth of secrets waiting to be discovered.
Their exploration led them to a room within the watchtower, where they found a meticulously crafted map of the citadel.
The map revealed an intricate layout, showcasing the citadel's division into three interconnected circles, forming a trinity-like design, Ayden verbally shared such details.
This discovery piqued Marcel's curiosity, prompting him to ponder the significance of the layout. "A careful equilibrium is evident in this arrangement," he observed.
Ayden shared Marcel's fascination, his eyes alight with excitement. "Yes, Marcelus. Each section seems to serve a distinct purpose, culminating in a formidable whole," he agreed.
The citadel's design hinted at a deeper meaning, a harmonious balance that intrigued them both.
Marcelus's smile broadened as he contemplated the mysteries that lay within the citadel's walls. "The hidden secrets within these walls must be fascinating, alas walls have ears too" he remarked.
Ayden's enthusiasm was unbridled, picking up Marcellus' hint.
"We shall unveil them," he declared, his voice filled with conspiracy. The prospect of uncovering the citadel's secrets was a tantalizing one, and they were both eager to delve deeper into its mysteries.
Marcelus's heart quickened with anticipation at Ayden's remark, hinting that they are of the same mind.
"There might be more to uncover in this citadel," Ayden mused, his gaze fixed on the structure before them.
Eager to explore further, Marcellus responded, "Absolutely. I'm intrigued to learn what secrets this citadel holds."
The watchtower's interior was soon bathed in a warm, flickering torchlight.
The glow of the flames revealed intricate patterns etched into the walls and doors, each detail a testament to the citadel's ancient history and the craftsmanship of its builders.
Ayden verbally shared all the details.
"Running water?" Ayden noted, his observation highlighting the historical significance of the structure.
To Ayden this was a huge inconsistency, alas, Marcelus was not familiar with such a concept, so Ayden verbally shared all the details.
The presence of such a feature suggested a level of sophistication and functionality that was notable.
"I agree," Marcelus added, his voice tinged with wonder. "My memory is foggy but i don't think I have ever heard of such a concept."
As they delved deeper into the watchtower, Ayden explained what running water is.
Ayden produced a tattered map that he had discovered earlier.
The map showcased the citadel's intricate layout, revealing the interconnected nature of its sections. Ayden marveled at the detailed design, fascinated by the hidden complexities that the map suggested.
A shiver danced down Ayden's spine as his gaze skimmed the map.
The lines and symbols seemed to writhe, echoing in some forgotten corner of his mind. "Have I..." he whispered, "have I seen this before?"
Marcelus's mind racing with possibilities.
Ayden's voice carried a sense of wonder as he replied, "Only by exploring each section shall we uncover more answers. The details are elusive, but I'm certain that I find it familiar."
Ayden placed a reassuring hand on Marcelus's shoulder, "Let us proceed," he said, his voice firm and confident.
"Together, we shall unravel the enigmas of this citadel and uncover the secrets hidden within its ancient walls. Birds often fly when clouds gather and soar above the nest."
They were so close that although they spoke words with different meanings, they understood their meaning.
"Of course," Marcelus responded.
"I have a proposition," Ayden began with a thoughtful tone, his eyes fixed on Marcellus.
"The way I see it our fates, it seems, has tangled in this bizarre land. Can such be mere coincidence? I doubt it.
Now I don't know of your designs, but an undeniable force draws me to you—I'll be your eyes in this place.
Amidst these circumstances, we can grasp the grand design, the bigger picture that unfolds around us… Perhaps even uncover the mystery of why the rainwater tastes salty.
Why not help one another on this bizarre realm."
Marcelus's interest deepened as he listened to Ayden's words. "Perhaps... perhaps we should, Ayden," he said, intrigued by his squire's perspective.
"I've often pondered such, things. Share your insights with me, no matter how fragmented they may seem."
Ayden's voice was filled with conviction as he spoke. "Marcelus, there's an intricate tapestry at play here, guiding our roles and actions. We're more than just individuals—we're part of a greater purpose of which I am unsure.
"Have you noticed how we're incentivized to eliminate each other?
The hunts, the division—it's all interconnected, a conspiracy. I'm almost positive there's a limited number of survivors allowed in this citadel."
"I understand your meaning".
"Additionally, I don't believe they can or intend to directly kill us in this place. There must be something for them to gain."
Marcelus wrestled with a mix of emotions.
In the midst of their exploration, Ayden, gazing intently at Marcel, "Marcellus, have you ever questioned the nature of our actuality here? The fabric of this world seems... malleable, almost like a…"
Marcelus, interrupting, puzzled by Ayden's sudden philosophical turn, narrows his eyes in contemplation. "What do you mean? Are you suggesting that this isn't real? I actually… killed people that died."
Ayden pauses, choosing his words with deliberate care. "Not exactly. It's just that, sometimes, things around us may not be as they appear. My senses and perceptions could be deceiving me."
Marcelus feels a shiver down his spine as he absorbs Ayden's words, a sense of familiarity creeping into his thoughts, as if he had this exact thought before. "So, you're saying we could be in some kind of illusion, or a fabricated…?"
Ayden nods slowly. "Perhaps. Think about it, Marcelus. The surreal events, the seemingly impossible feats we've accomplished, the strange nature of the citadel. Doesn't it all feel a bit... unreal? Like fragments of a fantasy pieced together?"
Marcelus's mind races as he tries to digest this notion, the idea that their reality might be a carefully constructed illusion unsettling him.
However, almost as quickly as the conversation began, it faded away for thought.
The profound nature of their exchange becomes a fleeting memory, seemingly erased from their conscious thoughts.
It was as if the conversation never happened.
For the past few months, ever since they woke up, it had been a torturous loop of recollection, repeating the same conversation about the nature of their reality here, only to forget it shortly afterward.
The conversations were detonations.
Each time they discussed the nature of their reality, the ground beneath their feet trembled.
Walls of perception cracked, revealing glimpses of an unsettling darkness. But then, just as swiftly as the cracks appeared, they would seal shut, leaving them reeling in the aftershocks.
The loop wasn't painful; it was terrifying.
*********
******
***
As the group convened at their predetermined meeting place—a tree that bore witness to their pact — Leon and the remaining members wore expressions mirroring the harrowing encounters that Marcel and Ayden had weathered.
Each countenance bore the traces of a shared struggle, the mark of ambush and confrontation.
Leon's voice, laced with remorse, resonated as he addressed his comrades. "My fellow members, I take full responsibility for my leadership shortcomings. I apologize for the challenges we faced and the losses we've endured. I must ensure your safety, and I regret any pain or peril that has befallen you under my guidance."
Silence lingered, heavy with unspoken emotions—a shared acknowledgement of their collective trials and the need to regroup and endure.
But Ayden's firm voice broke through, "Let's part ways here."
A declaration, not a request.
Marcelus felt a mix of surprise and uncertainty at the sudden decision, but he remembered Ayden's proposition.
Ayden's declaration reverberated, evoking reactions from the group. Their eyes turned to Leon, revealing a mix of anticipation and apprehension.
Some yearned for unity, finding strength in numbers, while others reluctantly accepted the inevitable separation.
The announcement wasn't up for debate; Ayden and Marcelus had made up their minds.
With a nod, Ayden and Marcelus turned away, leaving the tree and the group behind, embarking on a new path.
The silence that followed was pregnant.
The remaining members stood at a crossroads, their emotions a blend of yearning and uncertainty.
It marked a pivotal moment—a test of their unity and resilience as they confronted the enigma of an unknown future.
With a deep breath, Leon took the lead, rallying the group. "We may have lost two valuable members, but our mission remains steadfast. Let our unity guide us as we face the challenges ahead with unwavering determination."
*********
******
***
Days merged into months within the citadel, each one a kaleidoscope of danger.
Now deep within the second circle, they found themselves embroiled in a stealthy pursuit of a rival team.
The stakes had risen significantly; their adversaries were markedly more formidable than those they had faced in the outer circles.
Marcellus versed in Valar and a smattering of street Nostratic, and Ayden, fluent in Valar and Gaul, faced a linguistic barrier.
The loot they gathered from fallen foes—scrolls and texts—remained cryptic, their languages inaccessible and indecipherable.
Marcellus tried to memorize them either way.
The increasing strength of their opponents as they edged closer to the first circle indicated the growing intensity of the challenges that lay ahead.
Despite their victories, the tangible rewards seemed meagre, primarily consisting of these enigmatic texts they could not understand.
Marcellus often found himself fretting over attracting undue attention. His suggestion to maintain a lower profile was met with a mix of jovial acceptance from Ayden.
The breathing technique, the Harmonious Nexus, was a complex progression of six stages; Strength Mastery, Flesh Refinement, Viscera Sculpting, Muscle Ascendance, Bone Forging, and finally, Pulse Harmonization.
Each stage, up to the fifth, could be pursued concurrently through a regimen of focused breathing and visualization.
However, the final stage—Pulse Harmonization—was unique, requiring a state of Enlightenment, a plateau neither Marcellus nor Ayden had yet reached.
Aware of their shortcomings, they resolved to venture into the first circle only after achieving this elusive state of Enlightenment.
It was a decision born of prudence and respect for the journey's profound nature, recognizing the need to prepare fully for the challenges that awaited them in the citadel's innermost sanctum.
*********
******
***
[Day 1096]
Three years later.
The duo were on the usual hunt.
Marcelus found himself standing before a door in a modest manor.
If I make too much noise, we might attract unwanted attention, without a trace of hesitation, he swung the door open, revealing a horde of people lurking within.
Immediately, like wild beasts released from their confinement they charged forth summoning the swords in their hands and trying to kill their target as quickly as possible, their blood-stained shirts gave them an extremely horrid appearance.
Marcellus didn't even summon his sword.
With a confident stride, he lunged forward, raising his right foot and delivering a devastating kick to the first assailant's throat.
The sickening crunch of breaking bones echoed through the air, leaving an indescribable impact on all who heard it.
Gulp!
The assailant flew several meters away, hitting the people behind it in the process.
When he hit the floor, he was no longer moving.
The assailant was still alive since his head was intact. However, Marcellus's kick destroyed the jaw and crushed the upper bones of the spine.
Therefore, although its brain still functioned, it could no longer use its hands nor could it move its hands or feet; the person was no different from a dead man.
The only difference lay in the absence of blood spraying like a fountain.
More than forty assailants filled the manor, but Marcel's agility, with an astounding stat average, transformed him into a blur of motion.
He weaved and dodged, bones snapping and bodies collapsing with each precise strike.
A jab here, a jab there.
clack!
Thud!
The symphony of breaking bones and thudding bodies reverberated through the space, resounding with chilling clarity.
Marcellus employed his fists, palms, hands, feet, knees, and elbows, turning his entire body into an arsenal of lethal precision, a formidable weapon capable of claiming the life of any enemy.
In less than a minute, the once-threatening adversaries lay sprawled on the ground—alive but utterly incapacitated.
Limbs were shattered, jaws snapped, spines reduced to fragments and heads twisted at grotesque angles; severing the connection between brain and body.
Marcellus's countenance remained stoic, unshaken by the horrifying spectacle. With his hand-to-hand combat skill coupled with the experience of taking down the strongest elites, his heart could no longer be shaken by such a thing.
However, as the sound of bones breaking and bodies colliding reverberated, Marcellus couldn't help but worry about the attention they might attract.
He silently wished that their presence went unnoticed by anyone nearby.
Ayden soon appeared outside the door.
Ayden had come to see what was going on after hearing the commotion and was supposed to cover the back to prevent anyone from escaping.
Ayden emerged from outside the door, drawn by the clamour that had echoed through the manor. Their eyes widened as they beheld the gruesome scene, surveying the lifeless bodies strewn across the floor.
Turning their gaze to Marcel, Ayden couldn't help but whisper, "Is that all of them? I think you got them all"
Marcel's expression remained unchanged as he nodded in confirmation.
The duo proceeded to eliminate their foes methodically, ensuring no chance of healing.
A trail of incapacitated adversaries was left in their wake.
Ayden quipped playfully, "Maybe you should try a new approach, like using my long sword with your eyes covered."
After a moment of contemplation, Marcellus made a sudden declaration, "Tonight, I will remove my blindfold."
This moment marked a pivotal shift for Marcellus' evolution in the citadel.
He had adapted to the sword, he could fight without seeing.