Chapter 511: Arc 6, - 127: Carve My Way

Chapter 511: Arc 6, Chapter 127: Carve My Way

"Fwsh!"

She tumbled through a door that flickered in and out of existence, before it popped and vanished. Her palms and knees slid against the floor to catch herself.

With a grunt, she peered around the area she was deposited into. Exquisite, dark wood panels made up the walls and were marred with claw marks.

Chandeliers of crystal dangled with but a few chains left swaying and the rest scattered along the shattered table that stretched across the room.

The chairs were screeched back and some broken; the sharp metallic unmistakable scent of fresh blood permeated the room. Splotches of what used to be living bodies were all over the room.

Before her was a destroyed dining hall; before her, was the scene of a massacre. The head of a woman wearing pearls met her eyes right beside her.

Fumeko panted and wiped the blood going down her nose and past her lip. Only then did her gaze linger on her nail-less hand—her wrist, up to her elbow.

Dark, starry miasma covered her skin like scars and they lashed with no sensation onto her upper arms. She turned her hand around and moved her fingers. ’I can still feel them; it doesn’t hurt.’

Shaking her head, she got up and saw that her legs were under the same effect up to her knees. She wiped the sweat on her forehead and could not seem to maintain a steady breath.

She gulped and placed a hand on her chest. She was no medical expert, however a heart beating that fast was surely not a good sign. In fact, the corners of her vision blurred, and her head felt light and yet heavy with a throbbing sensation.

’Who are these people?’ She glanced around in an attempt to ignore her irregularities. ’Claw marks—big; wyvern? The impact on the table would suggest massive weight.

Something large was in here and wreaked havoc, so who were the guests.’ Her eyes scanned the suits, ties, gowns and scattered jewellery. ’They were definitely invited. Is this still their base of operations, or did I end up somewhere else?’

"It seems you are on borrowed time."

The deep masculine voice caught her attention and she whipped her head around. A long-limbed humanoid, with stretched skin and beady black eyes stuck to the corner of the ceiling with its head upside down.

It dropped and stuck to the floor where it shifted and morphed into a purple-skinned elf with two sets of glittering gossamer wings on its back that fluttered.

Its pupilless eyes of green stared as the light feminine voice continued, "The Thundering Blade’s plan was much more elaborate, however if this is the extent of where you are at, this shall be an easier venture than imagined."

Fumeko held her chest and huffed as the shadows whipped at her joins even more violently, but she managed to draw out her pistol and aim it, "What plan?"

The fairy-like entity floated across the table of corpses, "It matters not. We knew and she knew, there was a hair’s breadth of a chance of disposing you; much too quick, much too cunning."

"You idiots think I didn’t know this was a trap?" her eyes were trained on the shapeshifter.

It transformed into an armoured half-spider, half-human creature and continued to skitter past her with four arachnid legs. It hissed, "There was a method to discard one such as you off the board. However, we learn now that your affinity betrays you."

The pincers on the sides of its mouth began to click and chatter, letting out what could be a laugh. "No running away now little rat," it turned into a half-snake entity from the waist down and slithered to the other side of the room.

"Blast!"

The shapeshifter waved its hand and slapped the purple bullet out of the air, with but a scratch to the exoskeleton on the back of its palm.

"What makes you think I’m running," the next shot reloaded. She stood upright and held the gun steady with her other hand. ’Just need to hit one. ... ...!’ She flicked the lever.

"You may set aside the toy child; it shall do you no benefit here."

’Sure, it’s not gonna kill you, but I can sure as hell make your affinity betray you... Fuck it’s getting hard to breathe.’ She gulped and glared down her target.

"Whatever brings thou comfort," its tail slithered and whipped. "I view it a shame not to go through with the show. After all the arrangements, the universe presents you to me in this state."

’If I can get close before I shoot, I can use the element of surprise, then get him with the dagger. But I can’t blink... Unless I can. And what if I can’t? I lose my chance...’ She remained steady.

The shapeshifter transformed into a tall muscular man with short hair and missing eyes; instead there was blood out of them, as Kazuo Namora’s voice spoke, "Follow me."

’Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.’ Her grip on the pistol tightened and trembled. She had to resist every muscle in her arm to not let that single finger pull the trigger right then and there.

’Kazuo Namora’ walked into the wall where a door appeared and disappeared behind him. "I want to savour this like how my fellow Gods would; it was a matter of time I felt that glory; of wiping the roach off the sole of our boot," the voice continued somehow.

Fumeko glared, and with a spiking heartrate, did not hesitate to sprint after the imposter. In a haze she scanned the scene, and spotted what appeared to be a tiny puddle of melting wax on the table.

She reached the wall and upon touching it, her hand sank right through up until her elbow. Her upper arm pushed, but she could not pass through.

’With a strong enough conviction, you can break the forces magic... at a cost. ... ...’

"Snap."

A doorway appeared and Fumeko stepped through involuntarily. She was thrown out the other side, where she stumbled forward and stood upright before she fell.

The underside of her hair was scarred with the same dark starry miasma; as well as her neck up and around to her ears and down her collar. They had grown past her knees and elbows to envelop most of her limbs now.

"What a pitiful sight," the shapeshifter snapped again and shut the door behind her.

Fumeko aimed her pistol up at the voice of her father who walked around a crate in the middle of a rather empty room. It had chests and crates of similar makes and sizes, but it seemed like extra storage if anything.

"What’s in the box?" Fumeko leered.

"Icing on the cake," its human fingers turned into sharp metallic claws that scratched the edges of the crate to open it up; and tied up within was Kineko Namora.

Fumeko’s glare finally vanished, and her eyes widened. She tensed up and felt her heartrate growing more erratic. ’Fuck.’ "The kid has nothing to do with this."

"No, the child was the way to halt your advances," Kazuo Namora denied, and slowly morphed into a form of golden hair that ended in blacks and had the beauty of a noblewoman. The songbird-like voice spoke, "Only now, it will be your final sight."

"Shing!"

With a single swipe with the claws that remained, the shapeshifter undid all of Kineko’s binds. Kineko grunted and fell out of the box. She looked up to see Jotou standing over her, and Fumeko at the other end of the room.

"Big sis? Aunty Spauky-Eyes?" she rubbed her eyes.

"That’s not Jotou Kineko, it’s a bad guy, it’s wearing a disguise," Fumeko huffed out.

Kineko’s reddened and puffy eyes looked up at the blonde before she shuddered and crawled backwards into the box.

The shapeshifted Jotou looked down and grabbed Kineko by the back of the head and dragged her back out-

"HEY! You let go of her right now-!"

"Or?" the shapeshifter dragged forward a whimpering and about to cry Kineko. "Thou shall hail fire upon me?"

Fumeko felt the pain twisting in her chest, about to tear out of her ribcage. Her arms could barely aim the pistol she so desperately held while calculations ran through her head, over and over and over again.

No magic, her body at the brink of collapse, a pistol to give her a second’s chance at an attempt of anything, a scared child she has to save, an unpredictable escape route, and a creature that can turn into any horror nature could conjure...

"You have no choices left. You can do nothing but watch," the claws grew longer.

"Big sis Meko..." Kineko sobbed and shut her eyes. Her feet kicked as she was lifted into the air with ease.

"Stop," Fumeko grunted out.

"Last of the Namora ’bloodline’ gone right before my own eyes. Let it be known the true threat I can be."

’...!’ "What are you trying to prove? That you can hurt a fucking child?" Fumeko snarled.

The new god’s eyes narrowed.

...

"Would you rather perish first and let your false-sibling observe, or would it be better for you to witness the life drain out of her eyes while you succumb to the consequences of tampering with magic beyond your-"

"Blast!"

The shapeshifter deflected the bullet with a wave of its free hand, but as the ammunition made contact, it pierced through and spread across its form of Jotou.

Its form flickered between various different people, between the new gods, the detectives, Lady Pinberry, various cult members, elves, part-humans—all in an instance of two seconds.

The amalgamation of forms reformed back to Jotou with a growl of pure pain, and Fumeko was already sprinting forward in the direction.

Kineko screamed and kicked around, grabbing the hand on the back of her head and squirming. In a pure rage, the shapeshifter’s eyes went stark pupilless red and it formed claws to swipe at Kineko’s-

’No.’"Woosh!"

Within the blink of an eye, the detective stepped into purplish-black shadows and time around her eyes slowed down. Even so, she reappeared into existence just as quickly, and grabbed Kineko’s arm. "Woosh!"

One second she was running, and the next she was on the other side of the room with Kineko hugged tightly in her arms and away from the shapeshifter.

"WAAHHHHH!!!" a gut-wrenching scream was but a muffled noise right by Fumeko’s ear.

Fumeko felt the pain of a knife being twisted into her gut, and as she looked down, blood poured down her shirt. Her head ached in severe pain, and blood trickled down her nose, but there was no knife.

...

The blood was not hers... Her eyes followed the trail to the source and as her hearing cleared up, she realized it was her sister’s. Kineko’s arm was cut off at the shoulder.

The detective’s eyes widened while the kid cried for dear life. Fumeko looked back, and saw the arm fall from the claws that swiped it clean off.

It was a blur of motion. Nothing made sense. The world around her spun, and she had to let Kineko onto the ground while she turned and faced the threat.

She saw Jotou’s face with a sneer; the shapeshifter transformed-

"WOOSH!""Shlck."

...

...

With the cries of Kineko dying down as she passed out, the room went silent.

Fumeko’s blurry vision readjusted itself. She felt pins and needles all the way up her body. Her hand trembled; her veins were visible through the shadow scars across her body.

That hand, held the handle of a gleaming purple dagger that was embedded into the chest of Jotou Howllett. The red, pupilless eyes glanced down, seeing it pierced into its body.

In a moment of shock and disbelief, Fumeko paused; but she pulled her other arm forward and gripped the dagger’s handle. With both hands, she sunk it deeper into the new god’s heart.

The shapeshifters arms split apart into a dozen limbs on each side and wrapped around- "Shlck."

All the limbs were lurched back as Fumeko carved the dagger up its ribcage.

Its legs melted down, but could not shape into anything but puddles of slime as she brought the dagger back down and slashed it across.

The shapeshifter fell to the floor; its lower half disintegrated into ash-filled wind. While it formed the lower half of a tornado, Fumeko landed on top of it and kept it pinned to the floor with the dagger.

She glared down, and her shaking arms twisted the dagger in every direction she pleased.

Its head morphed into a shark’s head, an octopus, half of a wyvern’s maw, Ambrose’s face, Kazuo’s face, Jotou’s face, Fumeko’s face—each attempt to grapple the brunette off of its torso limply failed.

Fumeko’s grunt turned into a growl and a loud scream escaped her lungs as she withdrew the dagger and plunged it down into the new god again in the neck.

She drew it out, and stabbed it in the stomach, then the other side of the chest, then the arm, then the neck again, then the chest, again and again and again, all the while she cried out loud.

Blood spurted out of each stab she made as the shapeshifter morphed its anatomy in every which way to escape; or perhaps it was out of its control at this point.

Tears ran down her eyes—of anguish and catharsis. Again and again, she stabbed and carved up its body till there was punctured open hole in the middle of the shapeshifter’s body.

In its final view, all it saw was the detective sat atop of it and wildly swinging a dagger down, and the feeling of the blade going through to meet the floor on the other side.

Fumeko watched as the shapeshifter’s eyes morphed into hazel irises and two light brown fox-like ears emerged from atop its head. A long, bushy tail emerged from its rear and what was left was a dead fox-woman.

The detective drew her dagger back up and panted; blood was over the shadow on her arms, and all over her shirt and face. Having savagely murdered a leader of the cult, Fumeko got up off the corpse and ran over to the fallen Kineko...