Awakening of the Weakest Slayer

An oppressive purple glow bloomed from Sezel's outstretched hand, a color that seemed to drink the moonlight, quietly blending with the glow in the surroundings from the Spirit essence. The energy swirled and coalesced, and began to take shape, mirroring the monstrous form of the Flesh Reaper that Vesta was currently battling.

Shiki couldn't believe his eyes. His mind, already reeling, struggled to process what he was seeing. Was this even possible? A Fable that allowed a Slayer to create a perfect, spectral imitation of a living monster? But it wasn't out of what could be considered a possibility.

Shiki stumbled to his feet, the little girl stood frozen by his side. He was not that great of a babysitter, but he accepted it, tracing some steps back, a white-hot pain shooting through his bruised leg.

Sezel exhaled sharply. Beside him stood his puppet, a perfect, ethereal replica of the Flesh Reaper. The only difference was that the actual beast was made up of hard black chitin and Sezel's puppet was a form of pulsing purple energy, mixed with the dark mist-like thing.

To Sezel it felt like his mind was split in two. There were two visions in his head, one that his own eyes perceived and simultaneously, the vision of cold, alien perception of his puppet.. 'A better way to look at the world.' he chuckled inwardly and threw himself into the fray.

His beast followed along with him. He could control it with his mind. The puppet was just like an extension of himself, with enhanced speed and fighting prowess. Vesta saw him sprinting towards them and, with a powerful, desperate strike that made her own sword recoil, she managed to momentarily halt the Flesh Reaper's relentless advance.

Sezel leaped from behind the beast, bringing his katana down with all the strength he could muster. He had fought this thing before; he knew its weaknesses. "Its joints!" he shouted. "Target its joints!" His own attack was parried by the beast's scythe, the clang of steel on chitin a sharp, discordant note in the silence of night.

The monster moved its other scythe to attack Sezel, but it stopped mid-swing, held in place by an unseen force. A sharp grin split Sezel's face. "So, how do you like it?" he said.

The Flesh Reaper's head whipped behind it, the other form, identical to itself but glowing with an eerie purple radiance, held its another scythe, and behind it, the girl Vesta charged with her sword surrounded by flames that danced like a tamed animal.

The Flesh Reaper wasn't an idiot in this sense. From its earlier clash with the girl, it had determined that she was a dangerous enemy to fight, and now it wanted to move away. Its first instinct was to retreat. But there was an even greater shock to the beast, it was Sezel's puppet. It couldn't fathom why someone of the same species was attacking him.

Usually, enhanced beasts are more intelligent than the mindless Common beasts. A very effective way to get away from a horde of common beasts was to make them fight against each other, but that strategy would fail with enhanced beasts. However not much intelligent, but they would not attack one of their own. It was a fundamental rule of their existence, and its violation sent the creature's simple mind into a state of stunned confusion.

While the beast was distracted, he withdrew his blade, preparing to strike at its vulnerable legs. But the monster noticed. It could move one of its scythes again. It saw Sezel's blade arcing towards its leg joint, but instead of defending itself, it ignored him, its full, murderous attention now fixed on the puppet.

Sezel relaxed his body and poured all his strength into the attack. His katana was inches from the Flesh Reaper's soft leg joint. There was no way the beast could escape this. Sezel at its legs, the puppet at its torso, and Vesta attacking from above—it was a perfect, inescapable trap.

Suddenly, a shadow formed over Sezel. His eyes widened in horror as he realized his mistake. He had underestimated the raw, brute power of a Rank-5 beast, and the beast now showed them how strong it actually was.

The Flesh Reaper locked its scythes with the puppet's and, with a surge of terrifying strength, lifted it into the air. With just a little, effortless movement of its leg, Sezel's attack was rendered useless, his blade skittering harmlessly off its armored chitin. Then, with a furious shriek, the beast started spinning.

Vesta had no choice but to back off, unable to risk getting near the spinning vortex of destruction.

And Sezel, damn unlucky as always, was pinned to the ground, with no space to stand, no room to run. After gaining a terrifying amount of momentum, the Flesh Reaper released its scythes, sending the puppet flying through the air like a cannonball into a building nearby.

A big crash, like a blast echoed through the whole area, and then the building collapsed.

Sezel gritted his teeth and rolled sideways, scrambling to gain some distance. In his mind, the split image of what his puppet saw, a world of dust and crushing weight—flashed before his eyes, making his stomach twist 'Damn it, I should have known that it could easily overpower my Rank-4 puppet.'

The puppet was buried deep under the rubble, but still alive. Sezel could feel it. He could still perceive the image it saw. He scrambled up to his feet and sprinted towards Vesta. The Flesh Reaper too stood still, tired after the spin.

But Vesta was not fazed. She was just getting started. She rose to her feet, her sword held firm.

Sezel skidded to a halt beside her. Her gaze flickered to him for a heartbeat, then back to the beast. "Was that thing yours?" she asked, her voice low and steady, her eyes locked on their opponent.

Sezel nodded. "Yes. That's my Fable."

He received no response. The beast's stance shifted, its body coiling for another attack. And then, in the next moment, it was gone. A gust of wind, sudden and violent, began to blow in circles around them.

The beast, with its impossible speed, was now invisible to the naked eye, a blur of motion circling them like a vulture. Sezel gulped hard, his back pressed against Vesta's. There was no telling from where the attack would come.