NOVEL NEXT Chapter 12: Desperate Struggle
As he moved within the unseen, he watched as the Venator landed on his feet, holding the same, excited smile as only sparse bruising was left from the direct hit.
"C'mon! Hit harder than that! I have to feel it! I'm a fragile guy–breaking me shouldn't be this hard, should it?!" Dolus said, taunting them with his joyful words.
Florentine was the first to reach him, slamming her foot down before swinging the hammer downward in an attempt to turn the man's skull to dust. The blunt weapon was intercepted by both of Dolus' arms, somehow not blowing them away entirely as he endured.
While looking for his chance to jump in while unseen, Gael found it increasingly more clear that putting the "Frail" Venator down simply was out of his scope.
'--I need something stronger! Something to hit harder with–give me something, system!' He urged, holding his hand out.
"Temporary Summon: Skill!" He called.
[Skill Summoning Initiated | (N): 70% | (R ): 20% | (SR): 7% | (SSR): 2% | (UR): 1%]
[Chance Summoning complete…You've obtained…!]
[Skill Temporarily Obtained: (R) "Tungsten Body"]
As the system blessed him with a momentary ability, he witnessed the warrior woman's hammer be knocked away as Dolus expressed his strength with a mighty push.
"Ghh–!" Florentine winced, stumbling back.
Gael quickly sprinted in, covering ground in the steel domain as he got between the two, relying on his fleeting skill–
["Tungsten Body"]
The entirety of his skin shifted to a metallic shine, encapsulating not only his exterior but the density and toughness of his bones and muscle fibers. He threw his fist forward without any formal training, simply aiming to break the person in front of him–CLANG.
–Though his own knuckles were of the sturdy metal, it felt as though he'd collided with an even tougher material.
As his fist bounced off of the nose of the elite Venator, Dolus' smile remained, as though completely entranced in their face-off, "Again! Try it again–put your back into it this time!"
The eccentric man welcomed the attempt to harm him, spreading his arms without retaliating. It was a humiliating taunt, though Gael obliged, slamming his steel-enchanted fists against the man's bare chest.
–Crack.
After a few strikes, he found his fists being rejected as his steel-forged knuckles cracked somehow. Blood squirted out from the defects in his hands, not yet putting a single scratch on the joyful Venator.
"That's unfortunate. I thought you'd make me feel something," Dolus claimed with a disappointed smile, clenching his fists with retaliation in mind. "--Time to break you."
"Master!" Florentine shouted, rushing in from behind.
The warrior was too far behind him to reach in time, leaving his only choice to cross his arms in front of his body, hoping it would somehow be enough, praying the temporary skill wouldn't fade just yet.
Just as he crossed his arms, the Exterminator's fist slammed into his forearms. The force of it was nothing like he felt, having led a life without conflict–it was a sobering experience as the breath was forced from his lungs and his feet lifted from the ground.
As he flew back several meters, he found himself stopped by what felt like a steel wall, only looking up to find himself greeted by the dark-haired woman staring down at him.
"Gotcha, Master!" Florentine said with a smile.
"--Thanks?" He said, straightening himself out.
[Temporary summoning over.]
The metal attribute vanished from his body, leaving him feeling like a gazelle in a lion's sight. A quick inhale and exhale pushed that fear away, replacing it with plastic resolve, only hearing his heart thump in his ears.
As his split fists bled and his fractured forearms bruised, his system granted him a notification–
[Hidden Attribute Activated: "Desperate Chance" | Minimum Rarity set to (R ) while wounded.]
A meaningful blessing in the desperate circumstances while finding himself pursued by the relentless hunter. With the hammer-wielding warrior by his side, he needed something of his own.
'I need to break him–give me a roll capable of that!' He resolved.
"Temporary Summon: Weapon!" He shouted, moving while he called upon whatever fate granted him.
"Temporary Summon: Weapon."
[Temporary Weapon Summoning Initiated | (R ): 50% | (SR): 30% | (SSR): 15% | (UR): 5%]
With Dolus approaching closer, it was Florentine that intercepted the unbreakable Venator, thrashing her hammer about while the man simply laughed. It filled Gael with desperation, every second that the mystical lights flashed filling him with impatience before–
[Chance Summoning complete…You've obtained…!]
[Weapon Temporarily Obtained: (SR) "Sylph's Grandsword"]
Into his hand, an emerald-handled sword larger than his own body manifested, though it felt only as heavy as though it were made of paper.
As Florentine was knocked away by a sharp kick to the abdomen from the Venator, he found himself instead rushed down by Dolus. Without knowing anything about the weightless greatsword, he swung it in a downward arch–FWOOSH.
"Ah–" Dolus' eyes widened with shock.
The wind howled, finding the natural element turned into an unseen blade that slashed directly against the Venator's torso. It cut into the unbreakable man's skin, drawing blood for the first time as it spilled onto the steel floor.
'...I cut him? I actually hurt him?' Gael thought in shock, seeing the same surprise worn on his enemy's face.
The dismay warped to a smile as Dolus flexed his body, tightening his muscles as the bleeding was stopped merely by an inhuman density to his flesh, "That surprised me. You don't happen to know my Achilles' Heel, do you?" The eccentric Venator asked.
"I know it's whatever this sword is capable of," Gael answered, raising the light weapon up, finding a newfound confidence sparking.
"Get 'em, Master!" Florentine cheered him on.
It felt somewhat vexing that the brawny woman was shouting in his support, though he obliged while he had access to the weapon—
Dolus' calves swelled before he exploded forward, "I won't let you—!"
There wasn't any hesitation as he swung the weightless blade again, unleashing a slash of wind with a wide enough arc that forced the Venator to dodge.
He kept swinging the weapon, not particularly aiming or doing anything special—just doing the motions. It unleashed a storm of visceral wind, forcing the Venator to perform a dance to dodge.
"I'm almost done!" Blythe shouted from the center.
He almost didn't hear the yell, focused only on swinging the weapon as if his life depended on it–which it very much did. The assault of wind kept the Venator on his toes, though he failed to land a strike.