Grey landed in front of the Syrn.
"What an ugly son of a bitch."
The Syrnâs silk hair had expanded out like a web of dripping chaos. It was sticky and white in the worst of ways, black veins running through it. At least a mothâs wings could have some beautiful patterns to them, but this was nothing like that. It was only made worse by the fact the flesh line connecting the two halves of the Syrnâs body was still bubbling, looking almost like a cancerous growth of pustules forming down its length.
It screeched the moment it saw Grey.
"Happy to see you too, pussy."
Grey swung the scythe.
Surprisingly, the Syrn avoided the weapon like a plague, twisting in the air and sliding out to a stop in the distance, its speed so fast it was already almost a hundred meters away from Grey by the time it came to a stop.
"Scared of your own weapon?" Grey sneered. "Or scared of me?"
Void Gaze.
The Syrn froze for a brief instant, and in that moment, Grey had already appeared in front of it, swinging its scythe.
For whatever reason, Grey couldnât analyze the weapon. But as far as he was concerned, that was only more reason to use it.
His Helm Frame blazed with the Prometheus Flame. He could feel the durability of his Frame plummeting with every passing second. If it fell beneath a certain point, Grey wasnât sure if the pre-set loop would manage to make it to the end.
But right now, he didnât give a damn.
His body moved forward like it was shot from a railgun. He pulled on the Fog of Chaos and allowed the rays of the sun to push him, accelerating beyond the limits of what even the Syrn had managed.
It dodged out of the way of Greyâs strike, but Greyâs momentum came to an abrupt stop, his inner organs rattling in his body. Blood leaked from his nose and ears, his own power tearing him apart.
But he slashed again and again.
The cadence of a scythe was filled with a mysterious sort of aura, one that the Last Paladin Spirit Ability seemed to be having trouble grabbing onto.
But the pulsing waves that came from his Helm Frame seemed to be helping.
His comprehension and that of the Prometheus Spirit melded into one.
A flash of understanding overcame Grey and all of a sudden he heard the rhythm of the Syrn across from him. It sounded like millions of howling animals, screeching, trapped in cages. It was a gross sight and an even worse noise.
It grated at the ears, and all Grey wanted to do was shred it to pieces.
A roar left his lips and he didnât hesitate to swap from his Dark Solveign Frame to his Last Paladin Frame.
White gold light erupted from him. His speed dropped, but the sharpness of his attacks increased.
Suddenly, he felt like he was ten steps ahead, the Syrn was sliced in an instant, its arm flying into the skies.
Its tail slashed at Greyâs neck, but it missed by a full three meters.
Grey kicked at the side of its knee, stamping out a heel.
It responded with one of its head-attached wings, slicing through space as though to tear into the void.
But Grey had already used the momentum of his kick to flip back. It hit nothing but air again as Grey landed on the ground, accelerating forward just after the wing was forced to fold down.
Grey slashed and cut, attacking with his feet and fists, even head-butting the creature. His rhythm was unpredictable and impossibly fast, and he somehow managed to dodge attacks before they even thought of landing.
He flickered around the creature in a tempest of violence. He cut into it so frequently and so often that blood formed petals of blooming flowers in the skies, the beautiful arcs reflecting the golden light that peeled away from him.
Grey laughed, a noise that was grating to the Syrnâs ears but akin to a tonic to him.
He banged his head, the rhythm of the world falling into a rap song that roared from his lips.
"Make sure to copyright that shit, BigX. I expect front row tickets to your next concert."
It should have made it easier for the Syrn to follow his movements, and yet every lyric Grey sang only seemed to make him faster and stronger, almost like he wasnât just carrying the weight of himself any longer.
Three times the Syrn had said something about its ancestors, three times it had said that he had humiliated them. For what? Because Grey managed to land a hit? Was that all it took?
Well, Grey planned on doing a lot more than that.
If they thought this was humiliating, heâd make them bury their heads in the sand, heâd make them too humiliated to step out of their homes.
The rhythm of the Syrn followed the call of its Ancestors, well...
"I donât have any ancestors, but that oneâs called âBack On My BSâ. Go put that shit on your tombstone while youâre crying to your mama."
Grey slipped to one side and caught the Syrnâs tail out of the air. Before it could yank back with far greater strength than he could manage to deal with, he used Void Gaze and tore a path down with the scythe at the same time.
The Syrn broke free and then yanked its tail back, only to find it didnât have a tail any longer at all.
The momentum of the whipping muscles without purpose sent it stumbling back and Grey launched its own tail at it.
PUCHI.
It ripped right through its forehead and into the mass of bubbling flesh.
"Go fuck yourself." The scythe flashed and the Syrnâs head flew into the skies. "Go be humiliated in hell and tell your ancestors Iâll keep killing as many of you that piss me off."
Grey cut down with the scythe again as the Syrnâs body fell, ripping through its chest with its pointed end.
The echoing booms of the battle slowly faded until all that was left was Greyâs heaving breath.
Suddenly, Grey looked up. "You canât be serious."
BOOM.
A giant bounded over from the distance, landing heavily on the ground.
It came to a stop, looking around in confusion as though it wasnât sure what direction to go toward.
Slowly, though, the giantâs eyes regained some clarity as though its intelligence was slowly ticking up, then it spoke in the voice of a posh noble.
"Where might I find Joaquin?"