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Chapter 22. Massacre

  Isaac's grin grew wider as the realization settled in—the Wretched were afraid of him. He had been wondering how in the hell the hosts were supposed to complete the Phase Two task in such a short time, but now he was beginning to understand.

  He was just a level six—seven now—survivor, yet he had no issue slaughtering the Wretched in dozens. Sure, he had survived the trial and received a very powerful weapon as a reward, but as long as other Hosts unlocked their Origin, they should still be able to face a few of those beasts at the same time.

  Thus, with their combined effort and the obvious weakness of the Wretched, the task should be quite simple to complete.

  Yeah, I can see it now, Isaac mused, taking a single step toward the group in front of him.

  In response, they all stepped back even as more and more monsters spilled into the alley, slowly surrounding him.

  So much for not getting overrun.

  A low chuckle escaped him, making some of the monsters flinch. At the same time, the corpses around him started to vanish, a few even leaving him an Inferior Virality Gem as a gift. He didn't move to pick them up, not now.

  It was the right call, too, as a moment later, a couple more Wretched arrived in the alley. Unaware of the massacre that just happened here, they pushed past their frozen kin and charged right at Isaac.

  They dropped to the ground a few seconds later, spilling fresh blood over the alley.

  The other beasts recoiled further, some even looking over their shoulder, maybe considering escape. Isaac never gave them a chance to act on that thought.

  With a yank on the blood flowing in his veins, two unnaturally long daggers materialized at his sides. A third one formed in his left hand, its crimson surface pulsing in the rhythm of his heart.

  "Go…"

  At his whisper, the two floating daggers shot toward the surrounding crowd. The first two Wretched in their way died on the spot, but it was far from over. Fueled by the sacrifice of his own blood, the blades pivoted mid-flight and cut through the beasts like a scythe through wheat.

  By the time their power ran out, at least ten Wretched had fallen.

  Those who survived took a few more steps back.

  Isaac pounced in turn, the dagger and Root of Blood in his hands.

  Whatever remained of the Wretched's will to fight was shattered as Blood Draw cleaved through another dozen within a second. The rest panicked, breaking formation and stumbling over each other as they tried to escape as far as possible from him.

  Some of them fell in the chaos, while others even turned on their own kin in a frenzy. Only those at the very back had a chance to survive. Too bad that death was coming for them anyway.

  Every single sound that didn't matter faded out of his ears as Isaac hacked and slashed everything in his path. Symphony of Blood in his veins played a loud tune, helping him navigate the carnage he wrought. At the same time, the Root thrummed as it bathed in the endless supply of blood—its guidance still active.

  Some of the braver Wretched abandoned their dreams of escape and faced him, swinging at him with their sharpened claws. Isaac cleaved through them, too, not even pausing when they landed a hit or two.

  Instead, he gathered the blood dripping from his fresh wounds and poured it into his next attack.

  Sacrificial Blood Draw erupted from the Root, and unlike any other, it didn't stop on a single swing. Isaac slashed again, and the blood followed—weaker but still strong enough to end all the Wretched that tried to get him from behind.

  [Wretched x21 slain.]

  Afterward, no beast tried to face him anymore. They all ran, uncaring if their escape killed one of their kin. What mattered to them was survival—survival that wasn't earned easily.

  Yet, before Isaac could give chase, loud shouting pierced the veil of Symphony of Blood. He removed his sword from another corpse and paused, his gaze snapping toward the smaller alleyway that led back to the street.

  Right, the other survivors.

  The rush of battle—the sheer thrill of cutting through endless waves of enemies—had nearly made him forget why he had ventured out in the first place. Still, going by all the shouting, he definitely made the job easier for the approaching group of Hosts.

  Isaac threw one final look at the Wretched escaping toward the opposite ends of the alley and shrugged. They could run. He or someone else would get them one day anyway. For now, there had to be more of those beasts on the street.

  But first…

  His eyes landed on the scattered violet gems littering the ground.

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  Gems.

  It didn't even take him half a minute to collect them all and throw them into his pocket.

  Now, let's see what's going on there.

  Without much of a hurry, Isaac jogged into the narrow alley where he had saved that one guy in the beginning. He spotted some Wretched running near its end, but none even spared him a glance. Similar to the beasts he had just fought, these, too, were in full panic mode.

  Reaching the alley’s end, he stopped and peeked onto the street.

  Huh… That's a lot more people than I expected…

  With all the fighting going on, it was hard to get an exact count, but at least twenty people had to be out there. Most fought in smaller groups, using whatever makeshift weapons they found to bring down the Wretched together. Some, though, wielded a gun or the power of their Origin.

  Isaac ignored the former and focused on those who had already awakened.

  The first one he noticed was a young woman with short whips made of crystal clear water wrapped around her hands. Every single strike of those things had the Wretched falling to the ground, screeching in pain. Another brought them down for good.

  His gaze then strayed to two more hosts that seemed to be wielding the same Origin.

  Their swords—and where they had even gotten them was anybody's guess—were wreathed in fire, while their free hands held small flames. He had yet to see what those were for, but he could always ask later.

  Right now, there was only one thing on his mind.

  To join the battle.

  Blood Dagger.

  The three new blades instantly flew at the nearest Wretched, killing them in a single strike. A heartbeat later, another dagger materialized in Isaac's left hand, and with that, he left the alley, charging at the closest cluster of monsters.

  Symphony of Blood once more played louder as he danced between the endless bodies running around him. Some tried to defend themselves from the Root of Blood coming for their heads, but the blade didn't care for any obstacles and sliced through them, too.

  Before long, Isaac slipped into the same rhythm he had found in the alley, cutting everything apart in his path. In the distance, he heard some surprised yells but paid them no mind. All that mattered was the army of Wretched still coming for him. It was so much easier when they didn't try to escape.

  Blood Draw.

  The wave of crimson met the charge of a small group, slicing them all in two uneven parts. A salvo of Blood Daggers followed, bringing down a few beasts coming from behind. Those who remained close by, he greeted with a blade to the neck, staining more and more of the street in fresh blood.

  As a couple more Wretched blocked his path, Isaac pulled more Viron from his body.

  Only there was almost nothing remaining there. Emptiness answered his call, forcing him to face the beasts with just his sword and the final Blood Dagger gripped in his off-hand.

  So that's how it feels to run out of energy. He grimaced, chopping off a Wretched's arm and then finishing it with a dagger to the neck. Not the best time to find out, but I guess it could have been worse.

  At least Symphony of Blood remained active, so he couldn't really complain. The enhanced battle prowess the skill offered, combined with his ever-growing attributes, still made the couple of Wretched before him a non-threat. Maybe if there were no other fighters close by, he would be worried, but as it stood, even without his active skills, he should be more than fine.

  And he was.

  Once again, Isaac lost himself in the battle, his focus only on the monsters in his way and the sword he now gripped with both hands. The Root's gentle lessons followed his every move, while the Symphony offered him an eerie tune in the background as he cleaved through endless bodies like some personification of death.

  Before long, the Wretched started running again.

  This time, Isaac didn’t give chase. He simply watched them flee, standing amidst a sea of corpses. Symphony of Blood also vanished, and for the first time since the battle began, he felt the sweat covering most of his body, and how his chest rose and fell in ragged breaths.

  His heart wasn't any better, pounding so fast that he worried it might escape his ribcage.

  Isaac let out a tired chuckle.

  Yeah, he would need to work on controlling himself. Getting consumed by the battle might have made him more efficient, but his body could only go so far before it ran out of power. Then again, maybe this wouldn't be an issue if he had gotten a few more hours of sleep.

  A thought for another day…

  He rolled his aching shoulders and turned his attention to the other Hosts just finishing the remaining Wretched on the street. Some were already eyeing him warily, their bodies tense, ready to spring into action at a moment's notice.

  Isaac did his best to hide his exhaustion and stared back, Root of Blood hanging loosely at his side.

  It wasn't until the last of the Wretched fell that the large group gathered a safe distance away from him. The trio standing at the front exchanged a few muttered words before an older man with a graying beard stepped forward.

  "Friendly?!" the man shouted, the rifle in his arms just an inch away from being aimed at Isaac.

  Weird question to ask. Even if I wasn't, do you think I'd tell you with those odds? Isaac commented in his head. On the outside, he just nodded. "Aren't we all?"

  "You never know, laddie," the man answered, his thick accent shining through. "Thanks for the assist. Got a name? I'm Tyler."

  "Isaac Walker. Looking for one, Brandon Jackson. He with you?"

  The older guy didn't have to answer as, at that moment, another much younger man from the trio stepped out. His face seemed familiar, and once he spoke up, it was obvious why.

  "That's me. You're the neighbor my wife mentioned yesterday, right? Did she send you?"

  Isaac nodded. "You could say that. She is waiting inside with your kids. You're all welcome to come inside, too. Just stay away from the last apartment on the last floor."

  "That was the plan. Thanks again, kid," Tyler answered this time.

  He then looked over his shoulder and nodded at the final part of the trio—the young woman who he had seen using the water whips. She, among a few others, instantly moved toward the vanishing corpses, gathering the few Virality gems lying around.

  Good idea, Isaac thought, and ignoring the curious gazes from the rest of the group, also went around the street to collect the gems left behind by the Wretched he had killed.

  Of course, it didn't take long for someone to approach him.

  And so it begins…

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