Garden Of The Abyss

Chapter 291 - Mystical Steel

"Crap...what the hell was that all about?"

Rubbing his head as he looked up at the pitch-black ceiling that he fell from, Macheo grumbled to himself before brushing the dirt from his relatively well-maintained leather garments of sable and crimson color. 

Where did the others end up?...Not a good start--shit, he thought. 

Letting out another disgruntled sigh, he looked around, taking in the sight of the enigmatic domain set for the preliminary round--watching as the verdant and purple lights were manifested along all sides of the far-stretching walls. 

"I guess the round's already begun…" 

Adjusting the dark-colored gloves over his hands, he set his glistening, crimson eyes forward as a small gust swept his light-golden bangs across his forehead.. 

Aiko...where are you? He thought. 

Despite telling himself to focus and prioritize the preliminary, he couldn't shake the girl from his mind no matter how hard he tried to concentrate. 

Beginning his search--for impies or Aiko, he didn't know--he traversed the mysterious labyrinth with his guard raised. Passing by the surrounding walls, they didn't follow any sort of uniform material--some being made of dirt, some of cobblestone, and even some of exuberant quartz--it was as if the maze was formed of whatever they could get their hands on. 

Running the sole of his dark-brown boot against the floor, a click met his ears as the square section of the floor he stepped on gave in to the weight of his step. 

"Shit." 

Realizing what he had likely just done, he completely halted his movements--clearing his senses as he honed in on whatever booby trap had awakened. 

Catching the corner of his eye, a bundle of dirt gave way, falling from the wall to his leftmost as a small hole was revealed--a glint being caught before he jumped back. Just in time, he watched as a small, but extremely pointy, sharp projectile shot past the spot he previously stood. 

"...Have to look out for traps now too? Should've seen this coming." 

Moving onward, there were hardly any deductions he could make on each turn he chose, simply following his own gut as he traveled the bowels of the gunky labyrinth. 

"Gyu! Gyu!"

A high-pitched squeal met his ears, forcing him to look up to see it--the small creature he was meant to be catching, flapping its little wings as it hovered just out of reach. 

Guess it's my lucky day, he thought. 

Adjusting the cape that hung from his shoulders, he maintained focus before extending his hand--allowing his mana to travel from his core to the tips of his fingers. 

"Achel--" 

Before he could unleash his willed magecraft to capture the tiny fiend, an impact suddenly came burrowing towards him, forcing him to jump back in a flip. Able to catch the sight of the malicious force that attempted to hit him, it was a spear of steel, crashing into the farthest wall before piercing it completely. 

"Huh?"

Perplexed by this, he turned to the only possible source of the thrown spear--finding the culprit in the form of a man, who held a less than heroic smirk. 

Possessing a muscular body, wearing a one-piece outfit that resembled a black-and-white striped jumpsuit, the pale-skinned man smiled with his unkempt, spiky, black hair running down his back. 

"Who the hell are you?"

"My name is you have two choices: get the hell out of my way so I can capture that little one...or die!"

Introducing himself with a lack of a name, in place giving the golden-haired young man a choice, the pale-skinned challenger made a motion of dragging his thumb across his throat as if gesturing the death he would enact. 

Guess that dragon chick was right--people are damn greedy, he thought. 

Maintaining eye contact with the cold, sable eyes of the fiendish man, he let out a sigh before replacing his idle expression with a smile. 

"Sorry, but that's not happening. I'll make a counteroffer: get out of here and I might leave one of your legs unbroken."

Macheo's words seemed to pop a blood vessel in the other participant's head as he revealed his mouth full of silver teeth. 

"Cocky brat! Let's see you maintain that attitude when you're filled with steel!" 

Running towards the young prince, the long-haired man sprinted with his stance unusually low before striking at his chosen enemy. 

Nearly misjudging the reach his enemy possessed, Macheo corrected this by the skin of his teeth with a last-second backstep--watching as a silver, blade-like object nearly met his skin harshly. 

A blade? Where from? He thought. 

Hopping back to gain some distance, the nature of his foe was revealed to him at last. Running down from the man's forearm was what looked like a blade matching the length of a broadsword--protruding from his own flesh. 

"Steel magic, eh? Quite rare." 

Macheo commented quietly to himself, brushing the sweat from the corner of his mouth. He remained diligent and cautious--keeping on the defensive as his foe launched another bladed assault at him. 

I don't have much experience--actually, none at all--fighting against a steel-user. Unique magic types like this are a real pain in the ass, he thought. 

"Ha-ha! You regret it, don't you? I bet you wish you listened, but it's too late now! I'm going to cut you and gut you, brat!"

With little sanity to his words, the man roared out with his tongue hanging over his bottom lip as he continued to unleash a barrage of furious, wide swipes of his forearm blades. Having to constantly check behind him to make sure he wasn't being pushed back into a wall, dodging the edge of the steel blades became an arduous task for him. 

However, by being on the end of the frequent, non-stop swipes, he began to find the rhythm of strikes, the pattern of his foe's breath--it was clear the man was unrefined in combat, and simply relied on his magic to overwhelm his opponents. 

Now! He thought. 

Dropping down to completely evade the reach of the forearm-born sword, he launched his fist straight into the gut of the pale, murderous man, digging it in with force braced by his full reinforcement. 

"Gyuh…!"

Letting out a pained wheeze coated in saliva, the steel-mage was launched back by the powerful, visceral blow to his stomach. 

This boy...the man thought, the level of his reinforcement...he's talented, no...he's a genius!

The force of the punch brought the man's back colliding harshly against one of the mountainous walls, causing it to tremble as sediment rained down atop his head. 

Shaking the fist he had just used to attack with, Macheo looked at the man who was searching for the breath that vacated his lungs. 

"Unlike you, my offer is still on the table; leave now and I'll overlook this." 

Watching the malevolent, steel-wielding mage for a few moments, no answer came as the man continued to regain his breath. 

Did I really hit him that hard? He thought. 

"...Die, brat!"

From seemingly out of nowhere, the ear-grating wickedness belonging to the challenger's words sounded out as he slapped his palm against the ground, "Hephaestus: Graveyard Armory!" 

Protruding from the ground and sending forward were a flurry of quickly-formed blades of steel, jagged and unrefined as they attempted to pierce the young prince. 

"Abhorrent." 

Before the protruding blades could reach him, the golden-haired prince could only say that one word as he looked at the man with contempt. 

"...Huh?"

Still sitting on the ground with his back to the dusty, stone wall, the shaggy, black-haired mage was left stunned by that glare before witnessing the magecraft of his opponent. 

The rise of magical energy; as serene as a waterfall; brisk and plentiful, but at the same time--as powerful as a hurricane. 

"Achelous: Maw of The Leviathan!" 

Throwing his hand forward, Macheo's yell of magical will manifested into existence his water born of his own mana, bending and shaping it into the head of an almighty leviathan that charged forward. 

You're a coward; afraid of Purgatory--so afraid of it that you're willing to kill just for a sliver of a chance of making it out of here. I was the same way; which is why it really pisses me off! Macheo thought. 

As the water-born leviathan pushed onward, it clashed against the burrowing barrage of steel--pushing back against its metallic form, beginning to bend it just as they pushed against one another. 

"I...impossible…!"

The steel-mage yelled out, witnessing his magic be overwhelmed by the boy's own. Though, that surprise became washed over with a glint of resolve, "I won't lose to some brat! I, Menulous, won't lose…!" 

Finally standing himself up, the second-rate mage seemed resolved to continue fighting even as the leviathan formed of a watery essence swallowed his protruding blades whole, breaking them down and dissolving them. 

Finishing its duty, the leviathan dissipated back into pure water, then soon into nothing but the moisture that drenched the stone flooring. 

"...Hephaestus--"

Before another incantation could be fully unleashed, a boot crashed against Menulous' mouth; Macheo had launched himself forward, propelling his body by manifesting high-pressure bursts of water from the soles of his boots. 

The result was a brutal kick that left a resounding crack throughout the immediate area, launching the spiky-haired man back with a crack of the wind. 

"You're done!" 

Sending the man back with this abrasive kick, Macheo yelled out as he landed on his own two feet, swiping his sable cape back behind him. 

Feeling the harsh impact of the kick that hit him directly in the chin, Menulous' eyes had fallen completely white, his irises fading temporarily as his consciousness was robbed from him. 

Catching his breath from the brief, but intense exchange, Macheo looked down at the unconscious man for a moment with eyes that didn't hold any anger, those crimson jewels of his only displaying sympathy. 

"Unfortunately for you, a brat I may be, but I'm on a different level from you. I've stood in snowstorms deadlier than your magic. You don't belong here; you're weak. Just as I was. I hope...you find your path out of this wretched place. Oh, right--don't come after me or I'll actually kill you, alright? I'm kind of trying out this mercy thing, it takes a bit of getting used to; I'd hate for you to ruin my streak." 

Turning his back to the fallen foe of his, Macheo's parting words met faintly onto the ears of the man. 

Damn...that white-haired bastard is rubbing off on me, he thought.

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