Garden Of The Abyss

It was impossible for him not to be constantly reminded of it while those mouth-fiends continued to laugh hysterically even as they were cut apart by the quiet assassin. If it wasn't the howling laughter that bordered on ear-piercing shrieks, it was the gut-wrenching, rotten smell of flesh that inhabited the hellish realm, or the scenery of depraved, twisted beings--now being covered in their blood and guts as he cut them apart indifferently.

Evading a downfall of the colossal, patchwork fiend's arm, he was barraged by more of the lanky Reverse Walkers as they attempted to tackle him to the ground; he was quick to cut them apart with a furry of slashes but the anguished yells of Jae-Seong made his grip falter for just a moment as he watched the number of enemies grow once again. Feeling the air of hopeless tear away at his resolve, experiencing a weakness in the grip he placed around the hilt of his blade, he firmly planted his feet against the ground.

A glint; it was the smallest fraction of his ability, but that was all that was needed to see clearly and consciously into what plagued him all this time.

"Heaven"

—He called it; the first half of his ability: "Heaven Earth - Disconnect", Heaven granted enlightenment to his mind; negative emotions were purified, answers were called forth, and a path forward was built.

Even just the embers of this, maybe by miracle, changed his perspective in this moment of dread.

—That was just one theory he had of this sudden, eye-opening moment. Perhaps it was the pressing state of the harrowing battle before him that drove this mindset to the forefront.

Either way, a new Ren Nakamura called in a breath through his lungs.

Keep it together, Ren, he thought, you're not a helpless kid anymore. Even if you want to curl up and cry...stand tall and grip that fucking blade as tight as you can! I'm sick of lying to myself--over and over again, "I swear I'll be stronger", "I swear I won't give up"--enough is enough. I'm getting out of here alive, no matter what. If I have to use my teeth, I'll do it; if I have to use my bones, you're damn sure I will!

For the first time, I'll be honest with myself: I can't guarantee there won't be any more deaths here. Jae-Seong might fall, Sicarius might bite it, even I might be killed. But, I'll give it everything I've got--right here, right now.

"I think I'm starting to get it."

He muttered to himself quietly as the slightest of smiles occupied his lips for only a moment; whether it was the residuals of his ability allowing him to think clearly--he had come to an understanding.

I've been obsessing over perfecting my own life all this time; living up to being a proper person so that their sacrifices weren't in vain...Althaus, Johaness, Mila, Hodwin, Norbert, and Meinhard. But that's wrong! I was so obsessed with myself that I believed you all did it for me, believing I was special--when in reality, you just cared about me! All this time I tricked myself into thinking I had to live up to be a person worth saving, but I've been spitting in the face of your friendship all this time!

I'm not perfect, and that's why you became my friends; I fail, you fail--we're always there for one another--that's what it means; I'm Ren Nakamura because I'm imperfect! He thought.

Listening only to his rapidly beating heart as the rhythm of its excited rondo filled his ears, he stood tall as he drew in a slow, quiet breath before suddenly spiking his mana signature.

My mana limits have increased--so let's get crazy with it, he thought.

"Dunkel: Piercer! Times Ten!"

Shouting this out, he cleared a path with his blade as he gave way for the ten, dark lances to manifest through his own mana--pointing them towards the towering sentinel of rotten flesh.

As expected, the sluggish giant wasn't capable of avoiding the lances, but it didn't seem to matter as their infinitesimal size caused no noticeable damage to be done to the colossal--not so much as halting it as the shadowy piercers were lodged into its decaying hide.

People die; I can't change that. I'm not an invincible hero and I won't pretend to be one  anymore. Maybe I can't be like Sirius, but I don't need to be. I'm not strong, but I'm also not weak--I'm capable! I can be reliable now! I'll choose who I save, I'll accomplish what I can within my limits. You can lean on me; I can shoulder some of that burden--that's what it means to be an Outlander; I've finally figured that out, Iris! Sirius! Sora!...Meinhard! Ren thought.

"Araphel: Detonation!"

Releasing into their volatile form, the many lances inhabiting unstable darkness set off a chain of explosion from within the patchwork giant; it roared out as the flurry of abyssal explosions caked it in sable clouds of destruction, setting it ablaze as it fell to its rear.

"...I did it!"

My moments of failure, triumph, despair, happiness...all of those experiences are the culmination of who I am; to deny that is to deny all the relationships I've built...and without those relationships, who am I?

I don't have to be an invincible hero to carry the burden of the world on my shoulders; I have friends who can help me, and I can help them.

Besides...being imperfect isn't so bad; it's those moments when being weak--when being doubted, that you show what you're really capable of--and blow everyone away. That's what makes it all worth it, he thought.

But beyond that--in moments of total triumph, the worst feeling of all can bleed through that veil of victory; it's in those moments when complete and utter despair lowers a curtain over your eyes.

His victorious smile faded as the maw embedded into the colossal's stomach parted; like a cannonball, a slender figure launched out from the innards of the blazing giant, laughing as they soared forward--heading directly for Jae-Seong, who was still keeled over, overridden with anguish. Even through all of this, Sicarius, bathed in the black entrails of the many fiends, continued to slaughter away at the enemies that attempted to reach Jae-Seong.

"Rot! Rot! Rot away!"

The Marquis…?! Shit…! That entire time--he was recovering inside of the colossal?! Ren thought.

There was no way he could reach Jae-Seong in time, and even less of a chance at intercepting the catapulted Marquis who was still connected to the colossal through his lengthy umbilical cord.

"Jae-Seong---!"

Ren yelled at the top of his lungs, not turning his eyes away as he carved the fiends in his path; he could feel it--the victory in his heart was being obscured by a looming sense of dread.

No...we were so close, he thought.

Reaching the position of the man compromised by despair, the Marquis held a smile so wide it appeared his cheeks might tear; extending his palm forward as it was overflowing with a decrepit miasma.

...I've got you, Liber grinned.

--His palm met with the body of a man; however this man was not the curly-haired otherworlder drowning in despair. Liber stopped in his path as his decay-inducing palm was pressed against the abdomen of the man dressed in enigmatic black.

"Sicarius…!"

Ren screamed out without any care for the well-being of his throat; tears began to well up in his bloodshot eyes as he savagely cut away at any Reverse Walkers in his way in an attempt to reach his ally.

"...Shit. My body moved on its own."

Sicarius chuckled wryly before wincing; both his cloak and tunic were whisked away in an instant from contact with the Marquis' palm--leaving the accursed flesh of the Marquis pressed against the assassin's bare stomach.

Within a moment, the golden-brown skin on the man's bare abdomen was shifted to a deathly pale as if the life was sucked right out of it before finally turning into a black.

"How boring. I thought you would at least be better than that, Sicarius. I didn't take you for the self-sacrificing type; you were so promising, too. A shame, really."

The Marquis retrieved his hand as he spoke with a bored tone, watching as Sicarius quivered from the pain that was likely unimaginable.

"By now, your innards are nothing more but husks of dead, infectious cells. Count your breaths, Sicarius."

"Screw you."

Gripping the handle of his blade, Sicarius went for a surprise strike of his blade against the Marquis' neck; as expected, the steel was reduced to a fine powder the moment it made contact with the cursed flesh of the light-haired man.

Finding his latch ditch effort to be futile, the weathered assassin fell to his knees, gasping as sweat exuded from his pores; blood began to pour from each orifice of his body as the decay spread.

...What's wrong with me? When the hell did I get so damn soft? Heh...I blame you, Osmanthus. Never in a million years would I have bothered with a kid like this...but I guess people do change, don't they? Funny.. I didn't believe in that until just now, Sicarius thought.