(Raviel's pov)
When the man jumped from the abysswalker's corpse, the blood red-mud squelched under his boots as they sinked further into the soil.
Standing on the crimson mud, he brushed the small speck of dust settled on his shoulders of the black trench coat, as if the butchering of the abysswalker was just a roadkill.
His body turned towards my direction, head tilting slightly, studying me as he allowed a faintest of a grin to form on his face.
"...Okay" he said lazily as he waved a hand towards my direction. " Where were we "
I stared at him, I knew running or escaping wasn't even an option; I had barely seen how he had killed the monster, but one thing was for sure if he could toy with a grade-4 abysswalker which in every sense shredded me before comming here. So escaping was not on the list.
Squeezing the torned part of my arm with my right arm to stop the blood flow. I swallowed back my fear and spoke.
"...Where am I "
He blinked at my trembling figure, then frowned like I'd asked something profoundly stupid. "Hmm.... right, and how the hell would I know that dumbass?". He snorted, scratching the back of his neck, while gesturing vaguely at the corpses.
"I'm also new here".
That threw me off. My brain stopped for a second. So even a person like him didn't knew where he was. Even his presence felt suffocating and yet he didn't know.
"You are new.... here, what does that mean?" My voice came out rough, cords hurting from the earlier screaming.
"Yeah." He stretched his neck until it popped, then added, "Though I've been stuck in worse places. This one's just worsely pretty."
He said it like it was his everyday morning routine.
I wanted to ask more, to know more about this place, even the tiniest of hint would have sufficed, but from his expression I knew that it wasn't the time for questions.
Suddenly
The man raised his hands up in the galactic sky, eyes flickering over the horizon.
"We got company" he said quietly.
At first I didn't hear see anything or about what he was talking about. Then as if the world started beating itself, the red liquid rippled on the patches of soil, and the ground began to hum. The heaps of corpses started falling down from the vibrations.
My right hand tightened on the torned flesh.
While the katana silently pulsed on the ground near my side.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud
The vibrations and sounds then increased tenfold.
The ground started to shake, shuddering under the weight of something enormous marching towards us.
The man started to count, tapping his fingers on the blank air as he did.
"One million…Two million….Ten million…" He paused.
"Trillion… Quintillion…" as he moved his fingers through the air.
His tone was detached, almost bored.
Then, squinting his eyes farther into the horizon, he muttered, "Uuh, what was the last….? Oh right — Centillionplex."
He smacked the side of his head like he was trying to remember the series. I didn't understand why he was counting. Until I saw them.
The horizon broke open.
The galaxies moved.
Shapes emerged from the swirling galaxies, and I understood that the stars that felt like they were twinkling at us weren't stars at all but trillions of abysswalker's with colosall wings that grew closer every second.
And the horizon which felt like it was being enclosed by the enormous shadows of the abysswalkers with huge titan like bodies were marching towards us on the ground.
One flew — or maybe fell — from the sky. Its body was the size of a cathedral, ribs visible beneath torn flesh, black tar leaking from its mouth as it screeched. The sound was like metal screeching against metal.
My knees almost gave out. "We're… we're dead."
But the man didn't move an inch, he just stood there watching them come closer, calm as still water.
Then he turned to me, eyes flicking to my shoulder. "Ooh, would you look at that," he said quietly, voice almost amused. "Looks like someone's scared."
He looked up again, eyes tracking the approaching horrors. The galaxies above us pulsed brighter, bathing everything in violet and purple shades. The corpses around us began to twitch, the crimson mud rippling sharply from the tremors.
The katana lay half-buried in the crimson mud, glinting faintly beneath the pale, fractured light and the ongoing tremors.
My fingers twitched toward it, but before I could move, the man's voice cut through the rumble of approaching footsteps.
"Well then," he said, lifting his chin toward the weapon, gesturing lazily with one hand. "Would you like to do the honors?"
His tone wasn't mocking, just too calm, amused, like this was nothing more than a game to him.
I hesitated, eyes flicking between him and the incomming horde. The air trembled with distant horrifying roars. The earth beneath my feet felt alive now. My arm screamed in pain every time I shifted my weight, but I bent slightly and kicked the katana towards him.
The blade spun through the air, slick with mud and blood.
—And then it stopped in mid-air.
A faint metallic clink rang out as the man raised his hand, fingers barely brushing the air. The katana froze mid-flight, then shot forward so fast I couldn't track it. He caught it by the hilt without even looking, effortlessly.
"Thank you," he said, voice low and smooth.
And then he turned his head just slightly, eyes glinting under the faint glow of the alien sky. "Watch and learn, Raviel."
My blood ran cold.
How — how did he —
I barely managed a word before my breath hitched. "How do you kn—"
He didn't answer. Didn't need to.
He only smiled. A small, knowing curve of his lips that said. How would I know?.
"This," he said softly, "Is the level you should intend to reach."
He unsheathed the katana. Metal grinding against metal, bringing it slowly towards his eye level, he ran his blood-streaked hands on the edge of the katana.
"Missed you, buddy," he said almost fondly, running his hand along the blade's edge. Dark blood smeared across his fingers.
"Shall we kill some grade ones and twos?" he muttered, tone casual as if he were talking about pests rather than monsters.
Then he turned his head slightly and gestured for me to look forward.
I felt my throat tighten.
He'd called them grade one and two.
And somehow…. somehow he even knew about the katana.