Chapter 31: Seldanya
Seeing Dusk Catcher's conflicting response, Casanova quickly understood that something was horrifyingly wrong!
He immediately opened his suitcase, a cold, formless mist coming right out of it.
A brief moment after the mist dispersed within the living room, a pair of purple, thorned gloves manifested.
Casanova quickly wore them and waited, observing at the man.
The elder groaned in pain and started to squirm on the floor as enormous protuberances started growing out of his stomach, creating various kinds of differently shaped bulges.
They slowly moved inside his body, causing him terror and agony!!
Casanova looked at him, silently contemplating about his future actions.
He didn't want to kill him, as it meant creating unnecessary civil causalities, bringing unwanted attention from the police.
It was true that the Mask Of Sahvin he wore was concealing his identity, but if he were to kill him and gain the attention of the police, it would possibly mean regaining the attention of the group of Nephilim he was desperately trying to hide from.
'After he found her injecting the blood of those girls, did she use the fluids of his unconscious body as a means to perform a forceful vow of secrecy, maybe by using the phrase she wrote on the mirror as a catalyst?'
'This could very be the backlash from the failure of listening to her commands.' Casanova quickly tried to explain what he was seeing, aided by the apathy of The Mask of Sahvin paired with the calming and enhancing effect Intra had on the Nephilim mentality.
As the elderly man grimaced with even more pain, suddenly, a slimy, pale arm shot right out of his mouth.
He gagged and twitched as he desperately tried to expel the foreign object from his insides.
He flayed his arms around, trying to forcefully pull it away, but wasn't couldn't.
He soon started to suffocate, wetting his pants by the sheer horror.
Casanova's eyes narrowed.
'Earlier, he mentioned of his inability to recall of the last time he'd drunk alcohol… The thing causing his frequent bouts of unconsciousness wasn't the alcohol, it could very well have been her all along!'
'This sacrilegious event resembles the wretched actions written inside the pages of The Hermetical Canons of Immortality…!'
As he passed out, his arms slumped, his limbs hitting the wooden floor with great force, dark-red bruises slowly forming on his wrinkled skin.
The slimy arm bent unnaturally and touched the wooden floor, its fingers feeling its texture.
Casanova shot towards the unknown creature, planning to slay it before the situation turned more dire. The elder was already as good as dead—Casanova had to fulfill his duty!
Just then, he heard a solemn, feminine voice chant a simple word.
"No…"
His body immediately froze up, prohibiting even the slightest movement.
For the first time in decades—Casanova, wearing the impassive Face of Sahvin, started shivering uncontrollably, his thoughts turning into a jumbled chaos.
The being's fingers then perforated the wooden floor with great ease. Using it as a ledge, the bizarre creature's grip tightened, and more body parts belonging to the slimy creature were expelled from the elder, basked in the reddish light of the elder's house.
A mature looking woman slowly left from the man's unnaturally gaped and unhinged jaw, her charm almost palpable. Her wrinkles were all in the right spots, accentuating her beauty. She wore a short sleeved black dress, her curves like hills on the countryside.
"Disgusting," she scoffed , her voice different than before, appearing more…'human.'
She slowly stood up, wiping her body free from the slimy substance and looked at the unconscious man, her lips curling downwards.
'Child, you dared speak of our deal with someone else.'
'All you had to do was to shut up, but look at you now. I've been purposefully feeding you some quintessence so you could survive my true body exiting out of yours, in an act of mercy.'
'But now…" she laughed at his uncanny, deflated body, "I don't think you deserve my compassion."
'D-Did she call him…child? Casanova briefly thought before his mind returned to chaos.
Who was this woman? How was it possible for her to overwhelm the effects of Intra and scare The Mask of Sahvin as if it were a frightened child?
The mysterious woman stepped on the man's neck with her heels, burrowing a small hole into his jugular artery. Blood spurted out of the wound like a geyser, making the woman spread her arms out in solace.
With an expression of pure ecstasy, she moaned softly, her skin gradually turning a shade of red.
She cupped her hands, and when they were filled with blood, she eagerly drank it, her now red lips quivering with pleasure.
While the woman was busy enjoying the man's fluids, Casanova realized that the mysterious effects of the feminine voice were starting to subside, easing the chaos ravaging in his mind, returning the effects of Sahvin.
'She's dangerous, horrifyingly so…!'
'She didn't care of using the grandma's body as a suspect, for that wasn't her real body to begin with! She made false trails to bring her true body's attention away from the police and for us, prompting us underestimate her greatly…!'
'She's not a mad zealot that recently came in contact with The Hermetical Canons of Immortality, she's an expert of its wretched arts!' Casanova finally understood, his mind turning clearer and cleared.
'I have to get out of here…!'
"Oh, my…" The mysterious Nephilim turned around to face Casanova, a slight smile etched on her face. "And who could you be?"
"Does it…matter?" Casanova replied, trying to gauge enough time to escape.
"Oh, trust me, it does—more than you can imagine," she clicked her tongue. "I would've never expected to meet an another Nephilim here in my territory."
"Did the Chosen Daughters of Salvation send you?" she asked, her brow furrowed.
Unsure of what her affiliation with The Daughter of Salvation would be, and his sheer ignorance about the group she was talking about, Casanova simply decided to voice his lack of knowledge.
"What are you talking about?"
Her eyes narrowed. She calmly inspected his face and body, trying to gauge any sudden or unconscious movement that would betray him, revealing his lies.
"Why were you trying to learn more about me, then?" she suddenly asked.
'She knows? Was she conscious during my talk with the elderly man or was she aware only of the fact that he had talked about her identity? Was the act of expelling her true body a means of safety, so no important information would get out?'
Casanova's mind spun with different answers, all ending with unwanted outcomes.
Her physical prowess seemed proficient, but not as impressive as his.
He could try to attack her, but if the ethereal voice interrupted him with its paralyzing presence, the woman could easily eliminate him.
'What is she gaining from asking me these questions?' Casanova asked himself. 'I tried to figure her identity, it's bizarre how she's not retaliating immediately… She either doesn't consider me as a threat, or she's being careful, trying to gauge my strength.'
'I don't see any reason for her to fear me if she possesses that ethereal voice as an ability, though. What could she fear?'
His eyes narrowed.
'Her ability might not have many uses...'
When Casanova was thinking of what to do, the two Nephilim heard light steps coming from behind them.
"Dear…?" a soft voice asked, fear and worry etched in her voice.
Casanova turned around, amazed to see that bedridden woman could walk without any difficulty.
'She's still alive…? I thought that the blood-written rules the Nephilim had wrote on the mirror ruled her certain death on the clauses of infringement!'
As the other Nephilim turned around, Casanova stared at her, wanting to see her reaction.
She looked deeply shaken.
It was an uncommon sight for a being that threatened the woman's life so easily.
"What are you doing here!?" the Nephilim asked worriedly, her voice almost a shrill.
She immediately ran towards the woman before grabbing her hand in a gentle, tender manner.
She stared at Casanova, her face covered by bizarre expression, her look strangely resembling the one of mothers that tried to keep away predators from their young.
'She is afraid of me—afraid of what I could do to that woman,' Casanova finally understood.
'She's not outright attacking me nor using the paralysis again. My hypothesis was right—she cannot use the ethereal voice anymore.'
'That Nephilim cares about that woman a great deal, it seems.'
'She had a selfish reason for healing her, possible regarding to an experiment belonging to The Hermetical Canons of Immortality.'
'And if the bedridden woman is so important for her, to the point where she wants to protect her, makes it seem that there's something else hidden within her identity…'
'If the Nephilim were to complete her experiment, I'm unsure of what ungodly thing may come out of it'
'I can't let the woman get into her wretched hands.'
"What have you done to him…?" the bedridden woman spoke softly, staring at her husband's deflated and twisted bluish corpse with a shell-shocked expression.
"Miss, please follow me. You aren't well, sick people shouldn't wander off…" the Nephilim swiftly deflected her question.
"I-I said…" the woman stared into his husband's milky, lifeless eyes before looking back at the Nephilim, still drenched with her husband's blood.
Her expression slowly darkened, her lips quivering, two dark-red tears slowly streaking down her face, carving two pitch black lines into her face.
Suddenly, she shrieked.
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY HUSBAND?!"
'This is the right time!' Casanova leaped towards the Nephilim—she was still staring at the woman with a shocked expression.
The wooden floor under Casanova's feet split open, sending wooden chips flying all over the room.
Once the Nephilim was at arms' length, he swiftly rose his purple, thorny gloves, strengthening them with his quintessence.
With a speed great enough to create a sonic boom, he struck!
"Safety," the same ethereal, feminine voice resounded across the room.
A thunderous explosion boomed within the confines of the house, causing the windows to shatter.
Casanova's fist hadn't connected with the Nephilim, however.
She slowly reappeared behind the now-terrified, paralyzed woman.
The Nephilim expression was ashen, her black, messy hair now covering most of her face.
"What are you?" she asked, fear dripping from her figure.
'The 'voice' has different uses, then… Since she couldn't to use the paralyzing effect for more than once, she shouldn't be able to use this one anymore.'
Casanova slowly dropped his fighting stance.
With a forced grin etched upon his masked face, he finally spoke.
"I could ask you the same thing."
The other Nephilim frowned.
The bedridden woman staggered, fearful of Casanova's uncanny appearance.
With a precise hit of her hand, the Nephilim chopped at the bedridden's woman nape, inducing her to pass out.
As she slowly fell, the Nephilim caught her, placing her gently to the floor.
She then rose up, staring fiercely at Casanova.
"Oh, honorable patron," she spoke in a somber voice, "You were there when my ancestors lived. You were there when they rose to power, and you were there when they later scattered. I need your help, my venerable angel. I need of you to bestow your Essence upon my being," she prayed vehemently, her blood-stained hands rising to her chest.
"Fall from the Upper Worlds, Seldayna," she recited solemnly.
A black lightning burst through the wooden roof, slamming against the Nephilim, lighting most of the house on fire!
Strangely, the bedridden woman was unharmed.
A cascade of quintessence then spurted out from her Mercurial Fragment, leading her to stagger from the inhumane amount of power.
Her figure slowly changed.
Dark spines grew from her shoulders, back, and neck, blood showering from the open wounds.
Her eyes slowly morphed, turning into smiling, jag teethed yellowish mouths.
There was no need for Casanova to use Dusk Catcher to gauge her danger, his instincts were doing all the work, screaming for him to get away!
'If I run, she will get the bed-ridden woman.'
'If it leads her to finish her experiments, who knows what she could unleash.'
'Who knows how many girls will die if I fail my extermination.'
'And if 'she' were to die…'
"Dusk Catcher, I'm afraid I'll have to squeeze you dry," he silently spoke. "And now…"
Casanova took a deep breath, closing his eyes.
The quintessence that passively emanated from his body immediately started to all gather to one place—the place where his Mercurial Fragment was located. And then, the environmental quintessence that flew freely through the air began to move towards him, as if heading to his call.
The thorns on his purple gloves grew exponentially in size, to the point where they punctured Casanova's arms.
He however, didn't grimace nor groan in pain.
He simply stood, his eyes closed, bringing waves and waves of quintessence before him.
The inhumane looking Nephilim started to run towards the man in the midst of his 'awakening,' wanting to finish him as fast as possible. The world in her perspective lengthened, every step of hers leaving deep imprints in the wooden floor.
As she outstretched her right arm, spikes quickly grew from her knuckles, making it so that she resembled a wild animal!
"…"
Casanova slowly opened his eyes.
Just then, the rogue Nephilim's claws were about to perforate through Casanova's chest.
But the man, with no urgency whatsoever, raised his hand, catching her forearm effortlessly.
Using just a few amounts of his strength, he tightened his grip, shattering the bones in her arm.
She shrieked with pain, trying to get out of his unyielding grip, but couldn't free herself.
She grew pitch black spikes from her other hand, trying to claw her way to his face—Casanova stopped holding her arm in place and simply sidestepped, avoiding her attack.
Angered, she tried to claw at him again.
Casanova nimbly bent down and struck her outstretched arm from below, bending it into an uncanny angle, her bone sticking out!
"You're awfully weak." he said.
"SHUT UP!" she spouted, her injuries slowly healing.
Her bent arm returned to its previous position, the broken bone slowly retracting from her flesh. Her skin gradually closed up, her blood returning inside her body.
"You killed all those girls for this minuscule amount of power?" he spoke. "You disgust me."
The rogue Nephilim flesh started to squirm then vibrate at an alarming speed.
Like the elder from before, large protuberances started forming in her skin's outer layer.
"I'll kill you…I'm going to kill you," she burned with anger.
A brief moment later, her expression changed uncharacteristically.
She began to mouth something, but strangely, Casanova couldn't hear—even with his heightened senses.
Just then, she smiled from every single mouth.
A pitch-black, placenta-like construction began to form around the bedridden woman, the sound of gnawing flesh inexplicably coming from the burning house.
'Something is not right.' Casanova quickly understood.
He used Dusk Catcher, immediately catching on what she was planning.
'Body's rusty, but it's still enough.'
An uncountable amount of spikes pierced her body, shooting in various different directions, forming deep gashes on every inch of the flaming, wooden house.
Casanova dodged and weaved the ever increasing amount of pitch black spikes, using all the available space to avoid them. His blood-red eye pounded against his brain with force, warning him of the places where danger would arrive.
She's going to attack your solar plexus.
Casanova sidestepped, avoiding the danger.
She wants to destroy your brain.
He nimbly moved his head, narrowly avoiding the pitch-black spike, a small sized gash forming on his forehead, blood quickly seeping out of the wound.
Casanova kept on dodging her relentless assault, gaining speed with every successful dodge.
It was a long time ever since he moved that way. Nonetheless, his body was starting to remember how it was done.
The overloaded Dusk Catcher told him where the dangers were going to be located, while Intra aided him in calculating the perfect places for him to reside.
It was truly the perfect match!
She wants to destroy your whole body.
He jumped in the air, and under his feet, a large spike shot right across the room, perforating the wall behind him, creating a sonic boon quickly after.
'Dodging won't do.'
As he landed on the spike she had just thrown, he ran towards the pitch-black mass of spikes, her body now covered by them.
The more he was close to her, the more it was difficult for him to dodge them, leading him to get injured again and again.
Using Intra and Dusk Catcher, he could prevent the wounds from being too deep, however.
By then, he was less than five meters away.
Five spikes quickly shot out from her 'body'.
Using Intra and Dusk Catcher to its maximum power, Casanova understood that they were almost impossible to dodge. He vaulted over them, but the spikes suddenly changed direction and began to follow him!
'I see how it is.'
He nimbly twisted his body in mid-air, his movements resembling those of the incredibly talented acrobatics. A pair of spikes sliced right near his hips— blood spurting from his wounds.
Yet, he ignored the pain!
Now, the pitch-black mass of spikes was at arm's length—all Casanova needed to do was strike!
He brought his fist forward, and with a strength dreamed of by the fighters of every martial art, warriors from every era, and children from every generation, he struck with every ounce of his might!
BOOM!
The mass of spikes shattered in a thousand different direction, destroying everything in their path!
…
The incessant crackling of the blazing fire was the only present sound.
The wooden house was filled with gashes, shards of glass, and blood.
Soon after her supposed defeat, the spikes crumbled under the wind, becoming only ash.
Casanova searched Nephilim's corpse and the bedridden woman amidst the debris, but couldn't find them.
Somehow, she had escaped.
Knowing that the police, the firefighters, and ambulances would come, he had to be quick.
Using Dusk Catcher, he hoped to gain more insight.
Inside the half-burn, cluttered mess of their bathroom, he finally found something belonging to that Nephilim.
It was a small statue, maybe two to three inches tall, depicting a woman with the head of a lizard.
She holding a human baby in her arms.
Dusk Catcher regarded it as dangerous for some seconds before stopping to do so, like how it happened before the Nephilim had left the elderly man's mouth.
Casanova silently took his communication device.
Pressing a few buttons, he initiated the call towards his old colleague.
"The mission was a failure," he simply said.
"Message received."