Danto watched Lerni charging, a snarling, rabid beast that had broken free of its leash.
[Kill. Kill. Eat. Eat. Sleep. Sleep.]
[Feed. Feed. Hunger. Hunger.]
Lerni heard the voice, it was a low, rhythmic chant in his skull---but the terrifying rumble in his stomach was far more important.
He's completely now nothing more than a wild animal… Why is that?
But that doesn't concern me.
That means I can use it to my advantage. Danto's gaze hardened.
He stood his ground, awaiting the impact. Just as Lerni came close, Danto executed a razor-thin side-step, letting the brute run past, carried by momentum and rage.
With Lerni's back exposed, Danto raised his tachi high. White charyū sparked and crackled at the base of the blade, right at the top of the hilt.
"Bushi Arts Number Twenty-Nine (29): The Bleeding Blade!" He roared, swinging the blade down in a clean, vertical arc.
A familiar white crescent-shaped wave of energy erupted. It looked slightly faster, more potent than the last, and it carved through the air, slicing straight through Lerni's midsection.
SCHLIIICK----SCHLOP!
The wave cut him clean in half. Blood instantly sprayed and drooled everywhere, his pale innards dropping onto the asphalt with a sickening, wet thud.
Danto recovered from the effort of the slash and immediately darted toward the 'corpse', terrified that the regeneration would kick in instantly.
Okay, to kill a Beast Art User… As per Zan's explanation.
His mind superimposed the memory over the grisly scene as he stood directly over the severed body.
I have to force my charyū all over their body, preferably their heart… But it has to still be attached or be in contact with the body.
He hovered his blade over the hot, red mess, desperately searching for the organ.
Sweat stung his eyes, and his hands fidgeted---he couldn't waste time.
Lerni's finger twitched, solidifying Danto's internal countdown.
He plunged his sword into the mixture of blood and guts, rummaging through the gore with panicked haste. The experience was utterly revolting and irritating, but he pushed on.
And then he found it. Lerni's heart, soaked deeply in thick, drawy blood.
Crucially, it was not attached to either half, lying right in the middle of the two severed sections.
That was when tiny, glistening, tentacle-like formations began to grow from the two halves of Lerni's body, reaching toward each other. Other formations were picking up the spilled innards and attempting to thread them back into place.
Danto bit back a yelp. He used the flat side of his blade to drag the isolated heart toward the right half of the torso on a sudden whim. Ensuring the blade was in absolute contact with the body, he jammed the tip into the heart.
He began channeling charyū from his hand, through the blade, and into the tissue. All the while, the tiny tentacles were drawing the two halves back together. Lerni's hand began twitching more vigorously, and his eyes fluttered open.
Without wasting another breath, Danto said with hurried, shaky conviction: "Bushi Arts Number Twenty-One (21): Overflowing Gates!"
The charyū quickened, bolting down the blade like lightning and flooding the heart. The organ instantly began to swell, ballooning to a slightly larger, grotesque size.
Then---
SPLAT!
It burst, showering Danto's clothes and face in a final, disgusting spray of crimson. He involuntarily recoiled, the blood-soaked blade now an even more gruesome extension of himself.
He held his breath, backing up to stare at the remains, waiting for any sign of movement and after waiting several long, silent minutes…
Yes! He's down!
Danto collapsed backward, landing on his bum and panting like an exhausted bull. He didn't feel the full extent of the collapse, thanks to number twelve (12), the unmoving mountain still active in his core.
He used the lower part of his stained, tattered coat to wipe the blood. It was useless, but he cleared his eyes, nose, and mouth.
Relief flooded his senses, mixed with a shocking sense of exhilaration.
If he was still alive, he would have been back by now.
He thought.
I survived. And I killed a Beast Art User.
It was his first also in his first week of patrol. What wasn't there to celebrate?
But Danto just couldn't catch a break. He heard a grunt, followed by a scrambling rumble. His mind instantly split in two, convinced the fight wasn't over. He raised his head, gripping the tachi.
But the sound wasn't coming from Lerni.
But from Michael.
The second Beast Art User immediately rose and ran, his shoulder slowly, unbelievably reattaching itself as he fled, leaving a trail of blood and crimson footprints.
Damnit! I knew that bastard would get himself killed.
So, after the brat hit me, I decided to just stay down until the right moment…
Michael's shoulder fully knitted itself back together as he ran.
I mean, what was going through his head when he decided to fight a Cabonari when he hadn't eaten in days?
At least that takes care of one thorn up my ass.
Michael groaned in pain, trying to run as fast as possible.
[Hunger… Hunger…]
A familiar voice sounded in his head.
No! Not going to give into these urges this time! Who am I to fight in this state?
He shook the voice aside, his footing buckling with every panicked step.
Danto immediately sprang back to his feet, his blood-stained tachi raised. His worry turned instantly to confusion.
Why is he running?
He almost let the Beast Art User go, taking the gift of grace.
Then, the memory of five hostages and Mugi slammed into him, giving him a renewed surge of desperate energy, though he still groaned and grunted under the exertion.
A ball of white charyū formed in his lowered hand. He raised it and dropped into a pitcher's stance.
Not too much now…
He eased the tension in his arm.
Bushi Arts Number Seven (7): Orb of Freedom.
He released the ball of charyū, throwing it without much muscle. It was the size of a young child's football, and it flew through the air, weaving slightly as it closed the distance with the fleeing Michael.
It touched Michael's back, and then---
BOOM!
A small, localized explosion happened. It wasn't large enough to damage an SUV, leaving only a small cloud of smoke and particles in its wake.
When the smoke settled, Michael had been literally blown into pieces. His head lay on its side, one arm severed here, another there. Innards were splattered on the asphalt, and the entirety of his lower section was twitching on the ground.
...
Michael's head suddenly let out a small cough as tiny, glistening, wet tentacles grew from the base of the skull and began attaching themselves to other parts of his body, the tentacles articulating and pulling the fragments together, forming him a new torso.
His body complete, Michael lay on the ground, groaning softly, still stained in crimson.
"Uhhh… Why'd this have to happen…Using energy that I don't have to be doing this." Michael groaned, slowly opening his eyes. Everything was a momentary daze. He rubbed his head and pushed himself up to a sitting position.
Then, he felt the cold, inescapable embrace of steel hovering just over his jugular.
"I'm going to ask some questions now," Danto said, gripping his bloodied blade, standing directly behind Michael.
"And you're going to answer every single one of them."
Danto glared down at the now quivering Michael, who immediately raised his hands in a gesture of absolute surrender.
Well... shit.
---The End of Chapter 6---