Chapter 88 - Old Habits

*thus, we keep going forward. Peace out and Deus Vult*

Hoolay's ribs cracked with a satisfying crunch, his blood flowing out in heaps, the weird liquid covering the blade that had once been his own. Mark loomed over the body, casting an ominous shadow as he reached out with his right arm, shaping his fingers to have sharper, claw-like tips before sinking it right for the heart. He grabbed it with a firm grip, feeling the strange pulsing sensation as he took it out, the bloody light it emitted causing his heart to pick up speed. It looked like the Stellaron did through the dark liquid flesh. His arm trembled slightly, yet he betrayed no emotion. 

"Here, Feixiao. Take this. It should solve your issue. I'll make sure to hold you at bay." 

With that, he tossed it into the air, allowing it the gift of flight. The General simply looked up, following it after leaving her sword in the hands of Yanqing. The sky glowed red, and Mark simply clenched his jaw tightly, keeping his lips pursed as the subtle thud of his heart resounded just a touch louder in his chest. Feixiao's fox-like spirit swallowed the Crimson Moon before she fell from the sky, her consciousness momentarily severed. 

Unlike the game, Mark didn't let her crash to the ground—as if it would feel like more than a little nudge in her back. Still, some things were bound to remain the same no matter what happened to an individual. Specific thoughts, patterns, things carved in the mind would remain there to the person's very death. 

With a gentle movement, he lowered her to the ground, watching her carefully. At once, her fist cut through the air, gliding at his face. His head tilted to the side as he tossed her away, preparing as her feet found solace on the ground once more, spinning her torso in one fluid motion to face him. 

The glowing red ring that circled around her iris was intense, burning with hatred as she growled, her voice strained. 

"You damned borisin..." 

Her mind wasn't exactly at home in those moments, and he knew for sure what was about to happen. It was time for him to test his new body against a formidable foe in simple combat, man-to-foxian. 

"Come, Saran..." he mumbled, speaking just for her ears to hear, in case her true self inside her mind can hear it and know that someone out there knows. No explanation would come from him, but the information would flow out. He didn't care. 

The winds were one with her as she bolted forward like an arrow let loose, cutting through the air with ease, bringing her strikes in from all sides, hitting ruthlessly, fighting to kill. Their hands made contact countless times a second, both of them pushing each other to the limits. Perhaps in her eyes, Mark was worse than Hoolay, considering that he had used the beast's sword a few moments before. 

Their feet danced in a tangled back and forth, stealing ground from one another with each opening as strikes kept connecting. No feints, no hesitation, just the thrill of battle and Mark's desire to forget. Each blow that rattled his bones was an emotion yanked out of his chest, one last thing to weigh on his mind. They were bound to return, but not then. 

"Come on, is that all the Merlin's Claw has to offer?" he asked, his tired gaze fixed on her as both engaged in a deadlock, their arms tangled as they tried to overpower one another. His muscles were running on waves of energy, feeling alive, used to the high intake of pure power. Feixiao's jaw was tightly shut, her teeth grinding against one another as she struggled to overpower him. Still, he knew that her body wasn't giving its all. In that state, she was like a puppet running on basic commands like 'fight' without actually drawing out her inner strength. That power of hers was, for now, engaged in a battle with Hoolay's being, the Crimson Moon, trying to wrestle control over her and infuse the old Warhead's mind in her own. 

Mark footed himself, pressing on the ground at once as he brought his arms up, lifting Feixiao in the air before trying to toss her aside. Like a sly fox, she moved her legs around his neck, trying to choke him like that. Her vice grip was strong, like anvils pressing on both sides, straining his muscles as he tried to resist it. She snaked herself around his head, trying to both snap it or just choke him out. 

His breath was slowly dying out, yet giving up was not on his list. With her on his shoulders, he just leaned back before jerking forward, throwing his core muscles into the gutter with a simple burst of mustered strength. Her head sunk into the ground, forcing her grip to loosen, giving him a window to slide out and grab her, forcefully holding her against him to ensure she wouldn't hurt the others. Perhaps the sole thing that could restrain her was him. 

She struggled and fought back, her half-dazed state from the blow still putting up a fight. She kicked at his shins, tried to reach back to hit him, but she couldn't deal any serious damage. 

"Did he just... fight General Feixiao alone and win?" asked Yunli, studying him intently. She couldn't believe the sight, and by the looks of it, Yanqing had a hard time believing it too. 

The only one who wasn't that surprised was March, who had seen the way Mark fights, witnessing his lonely struggle on Penacony, which was probably the pinnacle of his power to date—or so she thought. 

"Miss March, just how did he train until this point?" asked Yanqing, looking back at her over his shoulder. She was silent for a bit, unsure of what to even answer. Just then she realized that she barely had a clue about his training. Himeko had mentioned something at some point about him having trained in the Simulated Universe on Herta's Space Station, but that was long ago. 

"I don't know..." she said softly, almost regretting the words that left her lips, the truth a tinge too sad for her. She hadn't asked about it, hadn't tried to understand. He simply went off to do his thing, that much she knew—but what was he doing? 

"Perhaps some secret training, I guess. He's crazy strong now, and it's barely been a while since we've met last time and trained together. It's just... how?" 

Yanqing's spirit seemed to break at the insane speed of growth displayed before him. Was he perhaps holding back last time to not hurt him? Just who was Mark, truly—or rather, what was he? 

Meanwhile, he just stood there, holding Feixiao until she snapped out of it. She looked at him, catching her breath as if she'd had a scare. Her blue eyes stared deeply into Mark's bland, lifeless gaze, seeking answers. 

"You're holding me rather tightly, you know? That's no way to handle a lady," she chuckled, and he simply let her go. Still, unable to hold back the primal urge within him, his palms gently grabbed her ears, giving them a few soft rubs and squishes. Feixiao tensed up at once, a soft blush on her cheeks as she tried not to purr, but he could still feel the gentle vibrations coming from her. 

"Hey, who gave you permission to do that?" she asked, trying to sound angry, and yet her voice wavered ever so softly. He shrugged and rubbed them a little between his fingers before letting go. 

"That's payback for you almost strangling me," he answered, completely unbothered. With the crisis solved, it was time to wrap up the entire situation. He simply grabbed Hoolay's sword, giving it a nice look before putting it on his back, using his ice to attach it to his back. Torn clothes, wrecked look—he was a whole mess, but he was alive and standing, at least physically. 

Feixiao's gaze fell on his shoulder, the exposed one part of his new arm, looking at it with interest as she noticed the metal heart in it. To her better judgement, she refrained from speaking of it, yet Mark did catch sight of the subtle interest in her eyes. 

"It's a gift... from someone dear to me... it means that she'll always be with me..." 

She nodded, a look tinged with bitterness and soft understanding appearing on her gentle features. She didn't look like a General from up close, like a beast of war—she was just a soft, tender being. 

"I see... I'm sorry..." 

He nodded, the look in his eyes just a touch regretful, otherwise lacking emotions. His arms were crossed once more as he spoke. 

"No worries, it's fine." 

Just like that, Feixiao fell to the side, grabbing on to Mark's ragged clothing for support. He was quick to grab her and carry her in his arms, heading straight for the Alchemy Commission. Their battle must have taken a toll on her. The other three simply followed along, watching as Mark leapt around and flew once more, the red flames brightening the sky with their crimson glow. 

Quickly after, he dropped off the General right in the care of Lingsha and Bailu, who was still a bit scared of him. He just stood there, watching the little dragon doctor work her magic, as Lingsha cast her gaze his way, looking him up and down. 

"Looks like you made it out of that cube. You also look like you could use a seat here." 

He shook his head, lifting a dismissive hand. He was still covered in dry blood, that of his own from the Penacony disaster, while his outfit was far from being called clothing. 

"Focus on her. Where's the other two?" 

She looked to the side, towards the Lunarescent Depths, while shaking her head. 

"Those two, they just didn't want to listen and snuck out." 

He nodded, looking around at the mess. Cloud Knights, all of whom had fought against the borisin, were scattered around, with medics bustling around to try and heal their wounds. Some of them were worse off than others, while some had minor injuries. Still, he blamed himself deep down for not waking up sooner, for not being there to prevent, or at least alleviate, the damage caused. 

Somewhere on the way, Stelle and March appeared into view, with Yunli and Yanqing accompanying them. Whatever they were discussing must have been about him, since Stelle's face fell at the sight of his expression. He looked gloomy, like a rained dog who had lost all purpose. She glanced at March, who nodded shyly by her side. Mark didn't even bother. 

"I see that your friends are here. How about we go chat with them?" asked Lingsha, smiling a little, and yet Mark just shook his head. 

"It's fine; go ahead if you wish. I've no business with them for now. Just go on." 

His answer was rather strange, yet she didn't question more. Experience told her that no matter what, there would be a form of conflict everywhere, just like with her and the Alchemy Commission. Bailu had patched up the foxian, then went on to care for others, leaving Mark alone with her. He was silent, so silent that not even his breath could be heard. For a moment he felt like he didn't need air. 

"You're still here?" asked Feixiao, already forcing herself to stand. He just nodded, not really in the mood for chit-chat. 

"I guess you don't feel like speaking much. I can't say I blame you. With what just took place and what your friends said had happened to you a while back. Still, you're strong. I hope you're up for some training." 

She smirked, standing up as if nothing was wrong with her, but she was straining herself a little. Mark nodded, feeling as though another joke struck him right in the mind, but he didn't bother. It was his default setting, yet at times too much. 

"Sure, I'm down for that. I need to see how strong I got." 

She stretched a little before walking to the door, suddenly looking serious. 

"I need to go find someone. Would you perhaps join me?" 

With a sigh, he nodded, following along at that point. Some things had taken a different turn. Jiaoqiu's usage of poison must have been lost thanks to Mark defeating him like that, so the news of his sacrifice would probably strike a lot harder. Still, he prepared, following behind her.