As the crossfire of tension in the room reaches its climax with the utter destruction enveloping the group, the pernicious scenario intensifies. The entire edifice around Gunn starts to tremble ominously. Below, the furnace, unable to contain the burgeoning chaos, erupts into a horrifying spectacle of explosion. Flames barrel upwards, consuming wood, metal, and stone alike in their unforgiving embrace.
Gunn, central to this apocalyptic tableau, rises from his throne of blood. The flames that seek to engulf him twirl devilishly around his figure, licking at his plague doctor attire, yet they do not consume. Instead, the shadows emanating from the depths of his dark cloak swirl fiercely, dispelling the flames, transforming the fiery inferno into mere wisps of smoke that fade into the gloom of the ruins.
Amidst the desolation, a highly sophisticated system window materializes before him, stark as though carved from the shadows themselves. Black on the borders with detailed white lines, it frames the following data:
Title : Plague Doctor
Level : 10
- [Strength: 800]
- [Speed: 800]
- [Magic: 800]
- [Stamina: 800]
- [Curses: 800]
- [Acid: 800]
- [Poison Strength and Effectiveness: 800]
- [Speech: 800]
- [Wisdom: 800]
- [Crafting : 800]
[Skills: 12]
'…What is this..a window..'
Beneath this imposing array of stats, another area of the window marks the kill count prominently:
- [Total Kills: 3 (Lucille, Felix, Lydia)]
Additionally, twelve skill icons show as activated beneath. At this moment, both human guards and automatons, armed and approaching with grim resolve, surge towards the ruins. They maneuver with precision, their weapons charged with special abilities, their intent deadly and clear. As they close in, the system window flickers, highlighting a new command:
- [Objective: Kill them all. Reward: Poison Necromancy. You will be able to curse the dead to life to fight for you.]
With an authoritarian pace, Gunn strides forward, the ground beneath his feet seeming to absorb the very light around him. A sinister darkness emanates from his body, dense and oppressive. Human guards in outfits caught in this black cloud start choking and coughing violently, their skin decaying at a rapid pace as they falter and collapse, becoming part of the kill count:
- [Total Kills: Calculating...]
- [20]
Meanwhile, the automatons, impervious to the biological terror, continue their relentless assault. They unleash a variety of attacks, laser cutters slice through the air, plasma bolts sizzle with deadly accuracy, and mechanical limbs swing with the force of wrecking balls. Gunn, unwavering, conjures a scythe from the blood of the guards, its blade dripping an ominous bloodâ€"each droplet sizzling on the ground as it falls.
With a dexterous and spectrally graceful motion, Gunn swings his scythe through the mechanical assailants. Each strike dismembers and dismantles the sophisticated machinery in a tumult of sparks and severed cables. As each automaton falls, the system updates the numbers with unerring precision:
- [Total Kills: Calculating...]
- [10]
[Total: 30]
Every component of this encounter is sharp, defined, and meticulous, as if every moment, every detail, mattered for something far beyond this fight. The system window remains prominent, updating dynamically, mirroring the grim dance of destruction that Gunn orchestrates with chilling proficiency.
Engulfed by the vermilion storm of his own creation, Gunn advanced as shadows clung to him, an extension of his will. The eerie tableau surrounding him, human guards entangled in his dark embrace, incapacitated by their own rapidly rotting fleshâ€"provided a grim backdrop. Each guard, ensnared in the choking darkness and weakened by the corruption of their skin, stood little chance against the cold, calculated ferocity of their adversary.
Gunn, his silhouette lined by the faint gleam of the system window, wielded his scythe with a choreographed precision that belied the brutality of each swing. The blade, unnervingly sharp and glistening with an almost otherworldly luster, descended upon the guards in swift, arcing motions. With each pass, blood sprayed in grotesque artistry, painting the blackened ruins with stark streaks of red.
His movements were both a dance and a dirge, fluid yet fatal. The scythe cut through armor, bone, and sinew with indiscriminate efficacy. The screams that filled the clearing, muffled by the omnipresent dark mist, were abruptly silenced by the finality of each stroke. One after another, the guards fell, their bodies crumpling in unnatural angles on the blood-soaked ground.
The system window, ever-present and unyielding, meticulously updated the gruesome tally:
- [Total Kills: Increasing...]
- [50]
As Gunn eliminated the last of the choking guards, the area grew ominously silent, save for the echoing clang of his scythe as he poised himself for the next moment, standing amid the chaos of the battleground, a lone arbiter of death enveloped in darkness.
The rain dropped heavily on him, Gunn stood in between the piles of bodies and destroyed automatons; he thought, 'I'll Kill them..all of themzzzthose bastards…trying to look righteous..they're all murderers!'
[Everyone eliminated. Reward: Poison Necromancy.]
"Wellllp. It's shitty it had to come to this. All you had to do was die, but that's not good enough for you, is it?"
Gunn turned around, and saw someone approaching.
It was a guard, he was built in a muscular tone, taller than 6 feet for sure. His eyes were a dark green color, and he was bald, but had a bushy red braided beard, with scars on his face.
He was holding a black crystal, saying, "I want you to remember my name, Gunn, father of rot. I am Arebled, and—."
SHINK!
Gunn was walking past Arebled, Arebled's head was cut off, and his body dropped to the ground. As Gunn kept walking, Arebled's body began to shake viscously.
"RAGH! TAGH! RAGH! RAGH! RAGH!"
Gunn stopped, and he turned around slowly.
Arebled began to rise, flames of darkness surrounded him as he screamed, his body was beginning to distort, his bones sticking out of his body, and his eyes, the bones were all covered in black flames, and his skin became rotten, and black wings of flesh was on his back, and he became bigger, he grew tattoos of glowing red patterns, and his eyes were pitch black.
"AGHHH! RAGH!"
'What is this?'
He noticed the black crystal in Arebled's hand was being sucked into Arebled's skin, and he began to stand on his feet, breathing heavily as he huffed and puffed.
"Hehe….after your death, the motion to have our alchemy amplified by these black crystals. The crime rate has risen over the past few months, we didn't wanna have to resort to this, but facing off against monsters like you, we need it. Who the fuck knows where they came from, but it's a last resort. And if I deliver your puny head to them again, Chief Bramswell will definitely bless me-."
THOOM!
Gunn didn't care, he bashed towards Arebled, drawing blood from the ground as he moved forward, forming another revolver gun, putting it in Arebled's mouth, and pulled the trigger.
Arebled's head exploded, blood and brains flying all over the place, but Arebled's head began to reform.
Gunn just stood there, thinking, 'Regeneration…'
Arebled laughed, "Haha! Shocked?! Scared?! Come on! Face me! Face me king of rot!"
[New quest: Slaughter Arebled. Reward: 20% added to strength]
'What is this..? A window..telling me what to do?'
As Gunn stands amidst the ruins of his enemy, the tailored instruments of his dark dominion become ever more evident. Each piece of his attire is not only a mark of his macabre station but also imbued with potent enhancements, crucial to his reign of terror and manipulation. His system showed his attire, and Gunn just looked.
**[Plague Doctor Mask - "Veil of Phantasms"]**
- Material: Obsidian-infused leather
- Special Abilities:
- Releases a continuous stream of black mist which induces vivid illusions.
- Emits a poisonous gas on command, debilitating enemies' respiratory functions and reducing their combat efficiency by 70%.
- Durability: 850/850
- Poison Resistance: +300
- Illusion Potency: +250
**[Plague Doctor Hat - "Crown of Dread"]**
- Material: Darkened Steel with Blood Ruby Inlay
- Special Abilities:
- Enhances the wearer's perception and awareness, extending vision range by 50 meters.
- Absorbs ambient fear to regenerate health (+10 HP per frightened enemy per minute).
- Durability: 900/900
- Fear Absorption: +200
- Perception Bonus: +150
**[Death's Touch Gloves - "Necrograsp"]**
- Material: Reinforced Shadow Silk
- Special Abilities:
- Anything touched by the gloves decays rapidly, leading to structural weakening of inorganic materials and necrosis in organic tissues.
- Transfers absorbed life essence from decayed materials to restore wearer's stamina.
- Durability: 800/800
- Decay Rate: +350
- Stamina Restoration: +5% per contact
**[Cloak of Shadows - "Nightskulk Mantle"]**
- Material: Woven from the essence of the void
- Special Abilities:
- User can activate to blend seamlessly into shadows, becoming nearly invisible to the naked eye.
- Increases evasion by 80% when in dimly lit or dark areas.
- Durability: 850/850
- Stealth Evasion: +400
- Shadow Affinity: +300
'Status..? This is me?'
Arebled dashes forward, "Here, you'll pay for all the lives you've taken! You were beheaded for a reason! You heard the crowd! You heard how happy they were when you died! Some cried tears of joy, some even laughed and mocked your head rolling off the fucking platform! Don't you get it, no one loves you!"
"The ones who cared about me, you bastards took them away from me..I'll kill all of you."
Locked in a fatal dance beneath the ruined skies, Gunn faced the monstrous transformation of Arebled, an ominous force reborn amidst dark flames and grotesque distortions. Here begins a detailed rundown of their cataclysmic confrontation:
Gunn, poised with unnerving calm, watches as Arebled unleashes tendrils of black flames snaking towards him. He wraps himself in his cloak of shadows, vanishing momentarily before emerging behind Arebled, slashing with a blood-formed scythe, drawing first blood. Arebled recovers, skin glowing with red patterns, and conjures sharp black crystal shards, hurling them at Gunn. Gunn, enhancing his speed, dodges with fluid, close sweeps, each movement a blur, as he nears Arebled. As Arebled advances, Gunn releases a dense black mist from his mask, enveloping the battlefield. Arebled, momentarily confused, coughs on the toxic fumes, allowing Gunn to strike with poisoned gloves, causing flesh to hiss and bubble.
Arebled, enraged, uses his grotesque wings to create a gale, dispersing the mist. He slices towards Gunn with winged blades. Gunn blocks with a blood-made axe, the clash sparking red and black flares. Gunn aggressively presses forward, but Arebled manipulates his own protruding bones to explode into shrapnel. Gunn uses his cloak to shield himself, then counterattacks with a series of rapid, piercing jabs.
Arebled lifts enormous chunks of the earth using his black crystal alchemy, launching them at Gunn. Gunn, showcasing his invulnerability, shatters the boulders with bare fists before sprinting straight into Arebled's guard, landing a powerful uppercut. The battle takes to the air; Arebled flaps his wings, ascending with dark fire trailing. Gunn, using blood-manipulated wings, pursues. They exchange a flurry of blows mid-air, blood and dark flames mixing in a visual spectacle.
Gunn forms multiple blood spears, throwing them with deadly precision. Arebled dodges most but is pierced by one, igniting further fury as he counterattacks with a wave of black fire. Amidst the chaos, Gunn calls upon the dead, reanimating fallen guards as soldiers. Arebled, caught off guard, battles the horde, slashing wildly, his black flame incinerating the undead. Utilizing his cloak's stealth, Gunn disappears, reappearing with blood daggers. Arebled, anticipating the move, counters with a shield of black crystal, reflecting some daggers back towards Gunn.
Gunn intensifies the poison, creating a thicker cloud that reduces visibility. Both combatants, nearly blind, rely on their heightened senses, striking and parrying in a deadly, unseen ballet. Arebled traps Gunn momentarily in a cage of black crystal. Gunn, combining acid with his strength, melts through, leaping out with a rage-fueled roar and a devastating roundhouse kick.
"I-Impossible!"
Launching themselves skyward again, Arebled forms spikes of black crystal on his wings, attempting to impale Gunn. Gunn counters by hardening his blood into armor, crashing into Arebled with brutal force. Arebled uses his decay ability, trying to rot Gunn's blood weapons. Gunn swiftly reabsorbs them, reforming them into a large, poisonous hammer, crushing Arebled's defenses. Fatigue setting in, their blows grow more vicious and desperate. Gunn receives a gash across the chest, retaliating with a poisoned punch that sends Arebled reeling back, hissing in pain.
A wild charge by Arebled is met with Gunn's tactical retreat, leading Arebled to impale himself on a spike Gunn crafted from poisoned blood, briefly pinning him to the ground. Both soar into the sky one last time, Gunn crafting guns from his blood, firing rapidly. Arebled, weaving through the bullets, lands heavy blows on Gunn, who grits through the pain. Diving down, Gunn surrounds Arebled with a vortex of acidic blood, corroding sections of his enemy's flesh and crystal armor. They crash back to the ground, Gunn pinning Arebled, bombarding him with close-range blood-formed spikes, each thrust more forceful than the last, puncturing through the black crystal.
Gunn, gathering all his might and abilities, bloodweapons, poison, acid, forms a massive, final gun. He shoots, blasting through Arebled's defenses. As the dark flame around Arebled flickers out, Gunn lunges forward, his fists glowing with toxic venom. He strikes Arebled's head, driving it into the ground with such force that the impact causes a shockwave, causing Arebled's body to rupture explosively. The battlefield quiets, Gunn standing victorious, surrounded by the remnants of his foe, his body heaving from exertion but unyielding, a brutal testament to his supremacy.
The air is thick with the smell of blood and burnt darkness, the ground littered with black crystal and blood-red patterns fading into the dirt. Gunn, breathing heavily, scans the horizon, his cloak fluttering slightly in the post-battle silence, ready for whatever comes next in his relentless conquest. The system window updates quietly in the background, a silent witness to the carnage:
- [Arebled: Defeated]
- [Gunn: Battle Status - Victory]
- [Reward: Strength increased by 20%]
The battle ends not just with a display of raw power, but with the artistry of combat, each move a brutal ballet of blood and shadows, played out on the grandest stage of all life and death.
Title : Plague Doctor, King Of Rot (New Title Earned!)
Level : 10
- [Strength: 960]]
- [Speed: 800]
- [Magic: 800]
- [Stamina: 800]
- [Curses: 800]
- [Acid: 800]
- [Poison Strength and Effectiveness: 800]
- [Speech: 800]
- [Wisdom: 800]
- [Crafting : 800]
Gunn heard the Cavalry coming, and his mind was set on killing them all. His heart and mind was led by silent rage, but as soon as he stepped forward, he coughed out blood. He dropped to his knees, coughing over and over, to the point where he lifted his mask. He had black veins on his neck and a little bit on his face and right eye.
"AGHHHH!" He screamed.
He gritted his teeth, something was happening to him that he didn't know, he said, "I'll kill them all..all of them! Bring them all!"
He began to remember how he was with his entire family, a family of 12, celebrating his birthday.
"Make a wish!" His mother said as Gunn smiled.
A birthday cake with candles in front of him sat patiently, ready to be eaten.
Gunn grinned, and as soon as he blew the candles out, a loud blast of alchemy, gunshots, and electricity blasted through the party, killing everyone. Blood blasted everywhere, and bodies hit the ground. Gunn flew backwards, smashing through a building, his body limp and bloodied and dirty as smoke arose around him.
"No…no!" He sat his head up, and saw Chief Bramswell, with red and black electricity on his right hand. He was escorted by dozens of maybe even hundreds of the Empire members and constable, including Lucille, Felix, Lydia, and the Executioner Mortimor, wearing a black trench coat with black gloves, wearing a black hat and a black mash, holding a large black guillotine on his back, with steam coming from under his mask.
Chief Bramswell's eyes glowed red and he commanded them, "Kill all of them. Don't leave any alive.
Everyone out there said in sync like they were in a trance: "We will kill all of them, Don't leave any alive."
Even Gunn repeated the phrase, "We will kill all of them, Don't leave any Ali—!"
"AGH!" He slapped himself.
Tears ran down his eyes, and he screamed to the top of his lungs, "NO!!!!!!"
They looked his way, but Gunn was already running. His tears had turned into blood, he held his chest.
…
Gunn, still on his knees waiting outside the furnace factory, cried as he remembered that movement, he stood up, cloaked in shadows, he ran off, holding his chest, crying.
"I'm sorry..I'm sorry…I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough!"
He was back in the city, running past people in the busy streets, pushing people out of his way. His shadows kept him semi-hidden, so some people said:
"What the-?!"
"What was that?!"
Gunn found himself in an alleyway, and he found a piece of broken mirror glass on the ground as the rats ran away.
He saw the black veins on his skin, and he gasped, "What is this?! Huh?! Who's there?!l
[Ding!]
His system window opened in front of him, saying:
[The price to pay for using darkness comes at a cost. Get your revenge before time runs out. Avenge the ones you lost, kill all of the murderers]
Gunn gritted his teeth so hard his mouth bled, "Time limit huh..? How much fucking time?!"
[The more you use your power, the shorter your life-span. Your only objective is to kill. Kill those who killed you, avenge your loved ones. Every use of your abilities should count, for your time limit and life span is hidden. The more you kill, the more powerful you get, the more quests you complete, the more you become stronger. Do not fail them.]
"..Fuck it.."
The otherwise calm, eerily silent ruins were abruptly disrupted by the thunderous arrival of Chief Constable Bramswell, accompanied by a formidable cadre of his deputies and other Empire constables. Their heavy boots disturbed the grim peace as they trod upon remnants of the destruction that had unfolded.
As they journeyed deeper into the blood-drenched site, a chilling scene unfolded before the..the bodies of Lucille, Felix, and Lydia strewn carelessly, a testament to the cruelty that had occurred. The sight of these casualties, who were not merely victims but comrades known to Bramswell, struck a gut-wrenching blow. His face, hardened by years of service and confrontation, crumpled under the weight of this harrow. With a staggering gait, Bramswell approached the bodies and then, as though his strength gave out, collapsed to his knees. A heartbreaking wail escaped him, raw, pained, filled with unmitigated loss.
The sorrow momentarily hung in the air, thick and palpable, before being swept away by a rising fury. Bramswell turned on his heel, his eyes ablaze with a vengeful fire. Rising to his full height, he faced his company, who watched him with a mixture of fear and resolve. His voice, when it boomed out, was laced with both command and anger.
"I want that fucker dead! We will destroy darkness and his reign of the plague! Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!"
The transformation within him was ghastly to behold. With each repetition of his command, his face contorted further into something sinister and barely human. The veins in his neck bulged as if to mirror the intensity of his decrees.
As Bramswell's voice echoed across the ruined space, a strange and terrible power emanated from him. It was as though the air thickened, vibrating with unseen energy. One by one, his subordinates started to collapse onto their knees, not out of deference but due to overwhelming compulsion. Their eyes, wide and unseeing, burned crimsonâ€"a disturbing show of Bramswell's ability to imprint his fiery orders directly into their minds.
Blood trickled from their eyes and ears, an excruciating testament to the potency and perhaps the cost of Bramswell's psychic command. Whispers and gasps of pain mingled with the haunting echo of his orders, creating a macabre symphony of obedience and torment.
This grotesque tableau painted by Bramswell's wrathful decree and his subordinates' suffering underlined not just a mission of vengeance but the devastating impact of power unchecked. The scene was as dramatic as it was intensely sorrowful, reflecting the lengths to which grief-stricken determination could push humanity in its darker moments.