Chapter 204: Humiliation
Wilbur didn’t watch the zombie.
His gaze snapped back to the second floor.
The figure that had been there was gone.
Did she run?
The thought barely registered.
He vanished, reappearing on the stopped escalator. A few light, rapid taps on the metal steps, and he was up.
In seconds, Wilbur cleared the distance, arriving at the second-floor landing.
A gale blew in through the cracks in the shattered glass wall, bringing the damp chill of the rain. The hem of his clothes fluttered.
Wilbur started to turn his head, to scan the area, to guess where she’d gone…
But the moment his gaze shifted, the second he split his attention—
Sching!
A flash of scarlet steel, razor-sharp, stabbed from the shadows at his flank!
Surprise flashed in Wilbur’s eyes.
His wide eyes locked onto a pair of crimson ones—calm, but holding a firestorm of fighting intent. They stared at each other for a single heartbeat.
The next moment, the scarlet figure was gone. A phantom.
But her attack had left its mark.
On the outside of his left elbow, already covered in his gelatinous armor, a new gash opened. Clean. Deep.
No blood flowed.
Partly because, as a Corpse-Plague Acolyte, he could suppress bleeding to prevent fluid loss.
Mostly… it was her sword.
That bizarre, scarlet greatsword.
It was the strange power in the blade that drew in and devoured the blood that should have spilled out.
Wilbur’s gaze shifted from the sinister greatsword, which radiated a faint blood mist.
He looked at the woman holding it.
His target.
The Scarred Woman.
She stood a few paces away. Her silhouette was slender in the dim light, but coiled with a tension ready to snap.
The half of her face visible in the dim light was pale, delicate, almost beautiful.
But the other half… a mask of twisted, angry scars, as if licked by flame. The beauty was gone, replaced by the weight of unspeakable pain and a chill that warned strangers away.
Even as his enemy, Wilbur had to respect her.
Especially…
She was clearly only a Second-Rank.
With such a gap in power, she hadn’t used her speed to run. She’d shown herself. She’d chosen to fight him head-on.
That kind of courage… it wasn’t something you saw every day.
“But…”
Wilbur’s lips curled into a sneer, laced with contempt.
“Are you just looking to die?”
He respected that courage, but only a little.
In his eyes, it was just stupidity.
Wilbur wasted no more words.
His mangled right arm hung low, but his good left arm tensed with power!
His body launched forward like a cannonball, bringing a foul wind with it as he slammed toward the Scarred Woman, who was backed against the wall of an abandoned shop!
BOOM—!
The enhancements of a Corpse-Plague Acolyte mostly manifested in physical strength and toughness.
Even though Wilbur could manipulate pus, his raw physical strength was nothing to sneeze at for his rank!
His heavy punch, whistling through the air, smashed into the wall Pandora had been leaning against!
The wooden partition wall shattered like wet paper, caving inward as splinters flew!
The Scarred Woman, showing the same blinding agility as before, slid lightly to the side the instant he threw the punch.
In that lightning-fast exchange, her scarlet sword struck again, drawing a near-perfect arc.
Wilbur pulled his arm back and looked down.
Another gash crossed the first on his left elbow. A stinging, burning sensation cut through the pain.
Wilbur didn’t immediately pursue. He didn’t even bother with the figure that had already put distance between them, settling back into a defensive stance.
“In the air…” he said, his voice certain. “I can smell potions.”
As a member of Ascension Road, even if he wasn’t an alchemist, his years of exposure to, use of, and forced endurance of potions made him an expert. He knew the signs.
He’d already figured it out.
The strength, speed, and reactions she was showing now, which exceeded a normal Second-Rank's… they were fueled by potions.
There was nothing wrong with that. Results were what mattered.
However…
Wilbur’s eyes went cold.
There was no doubt in his mind.
Nothing, no trick, no potion, could bridge the chasm between Second and Third Rank!
Whoosh!
This time, it wasn’t Wilbur attacking.
It was the Scarred Woman.
The scarlet figure pressed in like a phantom.
The sword was there in an instant, with a piercing hiss!
Wilbur’s face hardened. His body reacted on instinct, his left arm rising to block.
Sching—
The sword left a third wound on his arm!
This time, she meant business.
After the blade bit through the pus-armor, there was a subtle lift and twist. She was trying to rip the wound wider, to take a chunk of flesh with it!
However…
“Do you really think a Third-Rank…”
“...is just some training dummy you can cut up?!”
Humiliation and rage erupted in Wilbur’s heart.
He laughed, a raw, angry sound!
He sank into a stance, his feet rooting into the ground. He took the force of her blade on his arm, his monstrous strength absorbing the hit completely.
Then, all that power exploded out from his core!