The chamber before them was a macabre spectacle of twisted altars and flickering torchlight. Father Gregory, adorned in dark ceremonial robes, stood at the center of a sinister sigil inscribed on the floor. The air was thick with an otherworldly energy as the cult leader raised his hands, orchestrating the final stages of the grotesque ritual. His attendant, Disciple Cramwell, stood beside him with a crude smile on his face.
"Ah...it appears they have arrived." Disciple Cramwell said.
"Only 4 of them? I'm sure there was another strong presence within the underground sewers, but it matters not now. They will all be food for the ritual."
Derrick Foster, wielding the Demon Sword "Life-Span," led the group with a steely gaze. To his left stood Ying, an expert and mentor, his eyes ablaze with determination. On the right was Naoto Gan, the last of the Slyph Tribe, his calm demeanor belying the tempest of power he could unleash.
We don't know what their abilities are, nor what tribe they belong to. This is difficult...my senses are being overwhelmed by the excess spirituality! In that case...
"Ying! Plan A!"
"Got it!"
Ying casted the necessary hand-signs, conjuring an "Authority" that cast a profound influence on the designated area. Within it's bounds, all spirituality will be disrupted, imposing restraints on enemies and allies alike.
Father Gregory's spell suddenly misfired, causing a strange stinging sensation to run through his right arm. That man...how is he capable of projecting such a high-level Authority? He only has the power of a Rank 5 Soldier, so something like this shouldn't be possible. I suppose getting rid of the Wraith is our top priority.
Father Gregory enacted a similar yet stronger "Authority" that disrupted Ying's barrier effects. Everyone within the effective range of their Authority were able to use spirituality to a significantly weakened degree. "Brother Cramwell, I'll neutralize the barrier while you execute the intruders. You can do that much, can't you?"
"Of course sir."
Shit...This monster can maintain such a powerful Authority while moving as if it's just another menial task! Of course that wouldn't work, Ying inwardly criticized.
A sudden blur of movement caught them off guard. Disciple Cramwell, fueled by a surge of dark energy, became an indistinct streak as he lunged towards the group with speeds that surpassed natural perception. His figure blurred, leaving only the ominous afterimage of impending danger.
Reacting swiftly, Derrick Foster swung the Demon Sword "Life-Span" in a defensive arc, attempting to intercept the lightning-fast assault. However, the cult leader's speed was too great, and before Derrick could fully react, Cramwell unleashed a series of rapid strikes.
Father Gregory, equally swift and deadly, seized the opportunity. With uncanny precision, he launched Derrick away with a devastating kick. Despite the lack of overt spirituality imbued in the attack, the sheer force and proficiency behind Cramwell's movement held incredible weight. Derrick, caught off guard, was sent sprawling through the air, the impact resonating with a thud as he crashed against the chamber's wall.
"Gah!" Derrick coughed up blood. Even though he wasn't even using his enhancement, he's just way too strong! Derrick's hands began shaking uncontrollably. The fear that he wanted to suppress was overtaking him, stifling his movements.
"Gaaah!" In a desperate effort to shake himself from the crippling fear, he stabbed his own foot with Life-Span. The sudden burst of pain snapped him out of the paralysis, granting him a second wind.
With newfound resolve, Derrick charged at Disciple Cramwell, who, for a moment, was taken aback by the unorthodox strategy. As Derrick closed in, their blades clashed once more, and Cramwell, though surprised, couldn't help but sneer at Derrick's swordsmanship. "Is this the best you can muster? Even children have could contend with your skill," he criticized with a mocking tone.
In the midst of their clash, Derrick, realizing the larger threat, shouted at Naoto, "Switch with me, Naoto!"
"Yeah!" Naoto, recognizing the urgency in Derrick's voice, prepared to engage with Father Gregory.
However, before Naoto could make his move, the arm of a large spirit beast materialized, blocking his path. The ethereal creature, summoned by Father Gregory's command, stood as a formidable guardian, thwarting Naoto's attempt to intervene.
"Sorry, but I prefer keeping my distance." Father Gregory lifted his cloak, revealing the intricate tattoos adorning his body. Each tattoo represented a contract between him and a mythical beast, granting him the ability to summon them at will. The chamber resonated with a surge of spiritual energy as Father Gregory called upon the formidable allies etched onto his skin.
The battlefield had shifted, with Derrick battling Cramwell in a clash of swords, Naoto confronted by a spirit beast, and Father Gregory preparing to unleash the full might of his summoned allies. "Did you know? Factors never disappear. They're simply converted into different forms of energy through the cycles of life and death. They all have an "attraction" and "repulsion" effect depending on other surrounding Factors. If that is the case, then what would happen when you combine two Factors with a strong rejection?"
Father Gregory expending two of his spirit beasts, reducing them down to their Factors and compressing the two components to the size of a baseball. A strong heat radiated from his fist, as though he were clutching a star.
I've gotta keep my dist-
Father Gregory closed the distance before Naoto could even parse the thought of escape. "I'll get rid of you first. That wind is quite troublesome." With a malevolent grin, Father Gregory unleashed a cone-shaped explosion that erupted outward, a forceful blast designed to obliterate anything in its path. The shockwave propelled Naoto upward through the labyrinthine levels of the Cathedral, each floor passing in a dizzying blur.
"Naoto!" Derrick, momentarily distracted by the sudden explosion, loosened his guard against Disciple Cramwell. In an instant, Cramwell's blade sliced through the air with deadly precision, cutting deep into Derrick's chest. The clash of steel echoed through the chamber as pain flared within Derrick, his focus momentarily shattered by the unexpected assault.
Blood seeped from the wound as Derrick staggered back, gritting his teeth against the searing pain. The battle had taken an ominous turn, the team now separated and facing deadly opponents on multiple fronts. Father Gregory, undeterred, stood with an air of triumphant malevolence, while Derrick struggled to regain his footing against the relentless onslaught of Disciple Cramwell.
"Ah, the effects of the Authority have worn off. It seems your little Wraith friend has reached his limits." Father Gregory slowly approached the wounded Derrick Foster with a look of pity and disgust. "It's a shame though, how come you're so weak despite being a member of the Wraith tribe, one of the 4 major tribes that govern the most authority over the world. You're just a child without any knowledge of the real world. Now die."
He grabbed Derrick's right arm with a vice grip and ripped the arm out of it's socket. He screamed in pain, clenching the torn muscles tissue and bone he once called an arm. His energy gradually faded as Derrick, now grievously wounded and unable to withstand the excruciating pain, succumbed to unconsciousness. His body went limp, and the Demon Sword "Life-Span" slipped from his grasp, clattering to the cold stone floor of the Cathedral.
I can't move...and my thoughts and become scattered. Damn, what should I do?
In the midst of despair, a strange yet familiar voice called out to Derrick. The mysterious figure whispered in his ear.
"Get up, Derrick."