A claw lashed out instantly as he stepped into the office and he sidestepped, striking back with a fist that landed and glanced off the steel-like flesh, before twisting and launching a knee that....
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,,,was a bad idea, he acknowledged as he lowered his foot, giving up on that angle of attack. Kneecaps are lot more complicated then he remembered. Maybe he should stick to hands and feet until he gets better at doing this. The brief moment of distraction was enough for the corpse to land a blow on his armguard, shattering it with sheer force and causing him to hop backwards two steps before stabilizing himself. The thing crouched to the floor and pounced and he gathered mana into his shoulder before lowering his head and shoulder checking the corpse mid air charging and slamming both of them into the desk, which despite looking cheap was very well made, as it didn't completely collapse. The corpse tried to bite down on his neck, but he stuffed his one remaining armguard into the mouth before slamming his fist into the chin, causing the corpse to bite down on the metal item, ruining both armor and dentures in one go and yanking the armguard off his arm in it's entirety.
The thing struggled to stand upwards as Banks landed blow after blow upon the struggling corpse, trying to pull itself up from the desk in which it had been lodged. There was a stalemate for a brief time as the corpse struggled against him again and again, before the desk collapsed entirely sending the pair to the floor. A clawed hand impacted on his ribs tearing deeply into the flesh and then tearing at his organs.
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He rolled to the side just in time and the attack only scratched deeply into his flesh, rather than dealing a grievous blow. He pivoted onto his knees landing a kick to the underside of the corpse's chin causing the jaws to snap shut and the armguard to shatter entirely. With a roar the corpse struggled to it's feet raising it's claws with a look of fury on it's face and Banks mirrored it, standing up trying to catch his breath as he curled his own hands into fists. The perfectly possessed corpse roared stepping forward and he just quietly glared at the thing, while trying to recover his stamina and mana. It stepped forward again, and then backwards as if waiting for him to break and run, like a predator that has fully cornered it's prey and only now realized how dangerous a position both of them were in.
"What a waste of breath," he said somewhat hypocritically, as he smiled, flexing his muscles and joints. He stepped forward and immediately ducked under a grab and landed a hit upon the abdomen that barely stunned it, before he pressed upwards landing another blow on that incredibly durable chin. His left arm was grabbed in a vice grip and then the corpse's other arm went directly to his neck, only to be intercepted by his right arm. For a moment the two struggled in a battle, of strength, that he was swiftly using before swept the leg tossing it to the floor before stomping onto the chest so hard that the corpse bounced. The next second he left the ground, as his left arm was still gripped by the Corpse and in retaliation the thing tossed him across the room, like he was half the weight that he actually was. He hit the shelves on the far side pretty hard and slowly slid down until he was sitting leaning against the shelf.
"Fuck, that hurts," he said pulling himself to his feet. He was still a little rusty on the defensive use of mana, and protecting his whole back was a little more than he can handle at the moment. He once more curled his hands into fists as the thing spasmed off the ground and pounced tackling him back into the shelves.
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...spasmed off the ground and pounced the spot where he once stood smashing into the shelves. He reached out and grabbed the shelf before slamming down on the corpse. The thing writhed as it tried to desperately get out from under the shelf and he vindictively stomped on it a few times, before both the shelf and him were lifted at the moment and he had to hop off to avoid getting tossed, again. The thing leapt upwards with a clawed fist aimed directly at his heart and he dodged right, before hitting it with a raw haymaker that it ate in it's entirety, barely moving, and then immediately retaliating as it went wild trying to tear him apart and he matched that for a moment until a wild swing landed on his arms and he used the momentum to leap backwards, grabbing the principal's chair that had once belonged to the former corpse and returning it...
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...in the form of a swing that caught the thing head on, stunning it and causing the chair to shatter. He kept a hold of the two thin legs and then he slammed them both into the eye sockets of the corpse before it could recover causing it to screech in impotent rage. Whatever action that it might have taken if it recovered never happened as he immediately wound up a punch to the ribs, then the chest, then the throat and then he really got started, beating the corpse like a drum. That brief taste of pain, turned into a full course meal as he beat on the thing, pumping more and more mana into his hands, until he could barely feel them. He didn't want to look at them right now, it was likely that no manicurist in the world could fix them. One last hit and the thing lost balance and he coldly crouched down over the corpse and hammered the table legs in until the skull cracked open and whatever was left of the brain had turned to mush.
He calmly observed the state of the corpse, noting with cold satisfaction that it would never move again, before he stood up and immediately collapsed to one knee.
Every muscle in his body ached, his mana core thrummed, desperately trying to find some usable mana to fulfill it's various functions before they failed simultaneously, and it felt like his body nearly underwent collapse from the backlash. It was a bit frustrating, his mana used to defend him automatically without any effort whatsoever. This little scuffle wouldn't even have registered to past Banks. Now it felt like his hands and feet had all been broken and that every muscle in his body had been torn and shredded. The worst thing was that he doubted he could actually do any better. The damage was mostly done by himself to himself and unless he can fix his whole mana problems, the fight will just end the same way at the best. Step, by step he pulled himself to the doorway, where he paused for a moment. In front of him was a veritable field of corpses. Zombies lay thick as the eye could see, but they weren't the only corpse. Lying a couple of meters away to his left, with his throat ripped out was the Nevadie. Lying next to the door, with an arm ripped off and a hole in his chest was the guardsman. Nothing lived.
"He didn't get to blow himself up," Banks mused. It was an absurd statement, but the thought that he denied his Nevadie friend the chance to blow himself up, because he was to close put a cold laugh on his lips.
"_ugh, did you win?" the quiet voice, barely above a whisper caused his eyes to dart towards the guardsman. Somehow despite the hole in his chest he was still alive.
"I did," he said kneeling down. For a moment, he wanted to reassure him, to implore him to save his strength, but from the look in his eyes they both knew there was no coming back.
"Heh," Jakk said, smiling through a mouth filled with blood as the guardsman raised a hand and gave him a rap on his head, before his strength ran out and his remaining arm fell. "Sorry looks like this loser landed a punch, after all."
"You're not a loser," Banks admitted, a feeling of mourning entering his heart, despite the fact that this would ultimately turn into a future that no longer existed. "It requires tremendous bravery to even think of entering a Ghost Domain. Very few would ever dare, and even fewer would do as much as you did." Despite his impending death, his eyes were completely clear of the grey of the netherworld. He doubted that he would come back as a ghost. Even at the end of his line in front of the reaper his eyes were free of despair.
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"You were right, about one thing," he said, once more smiling with a mouthful of blood. "About the Commander. I did really want to touch those melons." Then as if saying everything that he needed to, the light disappeared leaving empty eyes staring at the scene of carnage that he co-created.
"Those are some final words," Banks said chuckling as he stood up. Soon his chuckles evolved into a fully fledged laugh, and then he started howling in pure laughter. Tears ran down his cheeks as he cackled in amusement, but despite the noise, nothing else came. Ghostly shadows forming at the edge of his sight dispersed under the mirth, and whatever zombies may have remained stayed huddled inside their classrooms.
"Alright," he said with a grin as he slapped his hands together and immediately regretted it. "Let's see what these keys unlock."
Fumbling around in his pocket he slowly pulled out the part key before walking once more into the principal's room and tearing the key from the corpse. Simply raising them close together generated some form of magnetic force and indulging them, he allowed them to snap together into the form of a complete ornate key. A sudden pulsing caught his attention and he turned to see a glow coming from the principal's desk, the one that was almost destroyed. Walking slowly over to the desk, he shifted the debris and found a keyhole right under the desk, that seemed to glow in response to the combined key.
Fumbling through his wrecked hands he slid the key into the lock and he had barely twisted it before the remains of the desk slid forward to reveal a spiral staircase. Glowing stones were embedded into the walls every few steps lighting up the staircase. He couldn't see the bottom.
"We're on the second floor," he mused. "Wouldn't it be easier to just have your secret underground entrance on the first floor. I mean I wonder which first floor room this runs through. I doubt that it is using any space manipulation. That would be unnecessarily expensive if you're already building a secret underground tunnel." He was stalling somewhat and he wasn't sure why. He was very likely to die down there and then the time loop would reset. He would retain his clothes maybe, but he doubted anything else. His one weapon, his spear was lost. "Alright, let's end this."
He stepped onto the stairwell and slowly made his way down, trying not to die an undignified death. His hands were beyond ruined at this point and so he shuffled slowly down, step by step, minute by minute. After only a couple of minutes the cold sensation that indicated that he was in a Ghost Domain faded. A few more minutes and the place got hotter and hotter and the ambient mana rose, his own core refilling amidst the elevated levels until it was equal to his full reserves before the start of the fight. Eventually after about half an hour of slowly shuffling down the stairs he found himself at the bottom. Ahead of him lay a short and straight path of glowing rocks that he shuffled forward, breathing in the mana rich air.
A brief flash of movement caught the corner of his eye before it disappeared and he paused gazing for a moment. He was less versed in the underground ecology compared to that aboveground, but that didn't mean he knew nothing. Nearly three meters tall, pale, gangly, eyeless and naked. If what he saw was what he thought he saw then they would very quickly be back with more reinforcements and he very quickly would die. Knowing that he picked up the pace, moving through narrow tunnel after narrow tunnel until he suddenly gasped as the room ahead opened up.
Ahead there were hundreds of those glowing rocks arranged in concentric circles with an altar in the middle of the room. The sheer volume of mana coming off the altar was stunning. Even among the already high concentration it was like a beacon. Whatever few moments that he may have paused for the far off sound of movement immediately brought them to an end and he immediately set off shuffling forward at greater and greater speed until he arrived at the altar. It wasn't like any altar that he had ever seen. Four sets of stairs leading to a sacrificial square. There was no deific symbol to identify it nor, nor any decoration. He couldn't tell whether it was a god of harvest, or war or death. The only type of decoration was a raised dais with a list of blue numbers one to five with only the first number lit up. Even an idiot could have identified that whatever god this altar was dedicated to, it also had something to do with the time loop.
In the center of the altar was a human hand with four fingers and a signet ring on the ring finger. The signet ring was unfortunately familiar, being the image of a snake entwined with the infinity symbol. It was a symbol designed to be used by only one person, a specific person who had missed a speech today, apparently the Undying Emperor thought being down here was more important. He chuckled mentally at the thought that the Undying Emperor in any way turned up here willingly. Most likely he was killed and then a part of his body was transferred here. He leaned over the altar giving a more in depth examination. The cut at the wrist was smooth, clearly done post mortem. There was not the slightest hint of decay, but considering high levels of mana can slow the decomposition of bodies, he had no idea how long the Undying Emperor was dead. Did he die before the time loop?
"That's one mystery down," he mused to himself, sitting by the altar. For a moment he considered destroying before he looked at his wrecked and ruined hands and gave up. Even if he destroyed it, he didn't get the feeling that it would make a difference. From his experience half of all rituals would fail completely if somebody accidentally wore the wrong underwear and half of all rituals will continue on even if the world itself ended. For some reason, he had the feeling that even destroying the hand wouldn't do a damn thing. "So he got killed and cut up," Banks mused to himself. "Why?"
Under most circumstances it wouldn't be such a pressing question. There were more than a few people that would like to take a swing at him. But while they would want him dead, he didn't think that they would want to dismember him and place him in such a weird place. Sometimes killing a king was a requirement for a certain ritual. He wasn't the most knowledgeable in rituals or gods. He might have to hit the library or speak to a priest or something. Maybe they could also tell him just how many parts of the Undying Emperor were spread throughout the city and if it perhaps had anything to do with the sudden resurgence of ghosts and the Golden Guards going crazy.
A quiet rustle took his attention and he turned to stare into the darkness, cursing his lack of night vision. For a brief instant he thought he saw a flash of white, before it disappeared, vanishing back into the darkness. But thankfully he didn't require light to see the massive stores of mana compressed into a being just under three meters tall.
"Stunted," he said out aloud, and received no response. Relatives of humans, a million generations separated from even the Nevadie. They were tall spindly human creatures that most humans would never have seen. Far stronger than over ninety percent of humans, they disdained the light and were violently hostile towards their surface dwelling cousins. Right now they were avoiding the circle of glowing rocks, but even as he watched the light from the rocks started to fail.
"Well that's just an asshole move," he said to himself. "Making the lights fade just as soon as somebody reaches the shrine. Really leaving somebody with no way out." He expended no effort to resist or escape. He was already resigned to a brief death when he last came here and even if he wasn't so injured he doubted that he would even be able to defeat even one of the monsters. Instead he turned towards the shrine examining it trying to get more information only to come to a dead end. His own mana vision had grown lazy, the intricate runes that denoted the ritual were blurry to him, looking more like a cloud of gas then a carefully crafted code.
A second line of glowing stones faded and a look of irritation overtook his face before he sat down. He couldn't do more at this point. For a few seconds he considered just sending his mind back in time to day one before he shook his head. He was still hoping to retain the clothes he got from the guards, and while it would be hard to retain them through the normal time loop at least there would be a chance. The third layer of stones fell dark and he sat back on the stairs just considering life, before he had an idle thought and with his least broken finger he carved a deific rune on the ground. It wasn't his best work but with gods it's more about sincerity in the heart then the rigors of getting every line picture perfect. Which meant he was pretty fucked.
The last line of glowing stones faded and the room filled with darkness. Almost immediately the sound of eager wet breathing filled the caverns as these huge concentrations of mana slunk towards the unresisting prey, with an eager sort of hatred you only saw in the most intelligent of animals.
"Hail the Still Shade," Banks spoke alike raising a hand and the sound immediately fell silent for a good few seconds as he named the being that was once their god, before in an instant a wet choking howl of rage seemed to erupt from the surrounding creatures, apparently taking it as an insult and in less time then it takes to blink he was ripped to pieces by the force of an army of maniacal, human relatives.
