One At A Time (II)

Shadows flashed across the dusk-lit sky.

Several people were skipping across the adjacent rooftops, their heated pursuit cutting through the clamor of pedestrians with thunderous crashes, smashes, and booms echoing across the city.

The sounds were not the result of an accident or a natural phenomenon, nor were they the result of any kind of tragedy. Instead, the situation unfolding above the city streets was born from the collective animosity of several 'human' individuals engaged in a ruthless chase across the metropolitan landscape. Each of them moved faster than Olympic athletes at full throttle and packed enough power to crush chunks of concrete into dust

The figures—all of whom had vastly different shapes and sizes — leaped from building to building with inhuman agility. Despite the distance between them, they all moved in the same direction—even as the two teenagers deliberately widened the gap between themselves and rugged men pursuing them. The space had opened naturally, without the aid of magic, yet it remained insurmountable for the six lagging pursuers.

No matter how much effort they exerted, the distance refused to shrink. In rare moments where the pursuers gained ground by rotating their lead runners, their progress was swiftly undone. Their quarry only had to increase their speed, and the gap would stretch once more. It was a perfect display of the deviant hierarchy—where a difference in index meant a difference in overall efficiency, a gap rarely, if ever, bridged under the right circumstances.

Occasionally, the two teenagers leading in front would swap glances with each other to relay information or warn the other about any incoming projectiles—just like what was happening now.

Alert: Cyril, the Extra Skill [Mobius] is detecting a large concentration of mana from your pursuers.

Cyril felt an alarm go off in his mind, the dark omen alerted him to the dangerous concentration of mana being pooled and refined for yet another preemptive strike by their stubborn pursuers. With the way things had been going, they must have given up on trying to overtake them with speed alone.

Reacting to the alert, Cyril swiftly twisted his body to confront their pursuers, and in that same instant his eyes immediately locked on to the visceral source of dread at their backs. It was scrawny man fitted in a dark coloured jacket brandishing an open grimoire in one hand—naturally, the thick mystical text gave away his status as a magician. His chants were practically indecipherable to Cyril, but their overall purpose wasn't.

"This'll get ya!" the magician let loose a sardonic howl.

The bright ball of energy congealing around the magician's outstretched palm condensed down to the size of a fist before erupting into a torrent that flew towards the fleeing pair of provisional hunters. What the ruffian had unleashed didn't have anything to do with combustion— no, in fact it was the opposite. The 'blast' that erupted from the magician's palm morphed itself to fit the image of a large aquatic serpent almost a dozen meters long.

The tidal serpent—a literal mass of ambient moisture — unleashed a shrill cry from its large, gaping maw as it bolted after its quarry.

Without uttering a word, Cyril willed the activation of his unique skill [Juggernaut]. His body instantly lost most of its speed, as if he had discarded more than half of his earlier momentum and surrendered to an unseen force. His feet skidded along the ground, obeying the sudden deceleration, but before he could come to a complete stop the violent gust from the tidal creature's savage charge staggered him as it flashed past in a blur.

His unique skill, [Juggernaut] allowed him to amplify the magnitude of any phenomenon he came into contact with—including the forces and vectors acting on his own body. His earlier deceleration was the result of precisely augmenting air resistance to counteract his forward momentum. However, since the spike in his drag was so brief, his body still needed time to fully come to a stop—creating the perfect opening for the conjured beast to overtake him.

I messed up the timing! They're going for Angelica!

"Angelica incoming!" he shouted forcefully

Cyril's companion—who had already progressed to the next building over—heard his warning a second too late for her to avert her trajectory, but she didn't need to. Angelica spared a swift glance over her shoulder, already anticipating the serpent's charge as she reached for the rapier dangling at her hip with a practiced hand.

She took hold of the rapier's dazzling hilt and drew the blade in one smooth motion. A burst of mana gushed forth from her form, reinforcing her aura and setting the blade of her weapon ablaze.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

"Cyril, I've got it get out of the way!"

Her directive was obeyed almost instantly as Cyril, using the augmented recoil forces at his disposal, landed on a nearby building and launched himself into the air like a rocket.

Angelica planted her feet firmly upon landing, channeling a burst of strength into her core. With a swift twist of her hips, she spun into a full 180-degree turn. Flames crackled along her blade as she slashed, cutting through the air to meet the incoming mass of water, which twisted and writhed as if possessed by a will of its own. Their pursuers were still some distance away, but it didn't matter—her attack would reach them all the same.

For an instant, the space above the streets flashed a brilliant orange, a shade distinctive enough to stand out against the evening backdrop.

Boom!

The tidal serpent burst like a ruptured dam, unleashing a deluge of water—enough to be called a sun shower—as it splattered in all directions. The streets, the people, and the asphalt below were all drenched in the cascading droplets, but the true impact of Angelica's attack was only felt by her pursuers.

With a single swing, her blade unleashed an arc of hellfire that cleaved the magician's serpentine spell in two before crashing into the bald man leading their charge, engulfing him in a fiery torrent.

"Oh dear, did I go too far?" Angelica raised a trembling hand to her mouth, her face going pale as she surveyed the scorched roof.

"It's not over yet!" Cyril's voice rang from above

Thud

A heavy impact rang shortly after.

Cyril landed harshly on a nearby rooftop, the concrete cracking from the force of his fall. A moment later, Angelica touched down beside him with effortless grace, her clothes barely stirring from the descent.

By all accounts, especially in terms of their respective Indexes, they ought to have been somewhat relative to each other per conventional metrics, but apparently, those parameters only extended to power and not control.

"Where to now Cyril?" Angelica exhaled a long breath, seeming to have calmed down some.

"It's just up ahead, at this pace we'll make it in a few seconds." he replied, setting his sights on the destination—though not before casting a quick glance over his shoulder.

"Then we can deal with these guys once and for all."

Angelica followed his line of sight and peered into the blackened trench she'd carved on the next roof over a moment ago.

The dark plumes of smoke wafting from the collision site churned and stirred from within, before being abruptly whisked away by an unnaturally strong gust of wind.

There was a small earthen dome erected on the adjacent roof, it was forged from concrete, bricks and whatever other earthbound structures were nearby. Its purpose as a defensive keep was obvious, given away by the large cracks carved into its surface that shuddered from the lasting trails of heat Angelica had sent that way.

Unable to retain its form any longer, the earthen structure collapsed to reveal three men panting from what Cyril assumed to have been quite the laborious effort for them. Given the blatant difference in their respective Indexes, blocking just one of Angelica's attacks required a great deal of coordination, lest they all be blown away, and even still, after all that effort their numbers had dwindled to half of what it once was.

The water magician from earlier was nowhere to be seen, undoubtedly blown away by Angelica's counter.

"You're going to pay for that kid." the bald man scowled, oozing animosity thick enough to poison the air itself. Everything from his shirt to his trousers had holes wafting black fumes from them, the direct result of him having taken the brunt of the attack earlier.

Although his vexation couldn't be justified, Cyril felt like he could at least understand it, having gone through something similar himself in the not-so-distant past.

Getting burned really does suck. He thought to himself.

[Cyril, the requested destination is twenty meters ahead. It is currently the only area within the range of your [Mobius] skill that fits the criteria of an environment with low-civilian density.]

The announcement made him smile.

[Mobius] being what it was—the backbone of sainthood— as they called it, meant that even as more of an auxiliary ability, its served a pivotal function that set apart those who ascended to the ranks of sainthood from regular deviants. It was the reason why saints could sense gate formations purely by instinct and navigate these gates on their own. [Mobius] functioned like a multi-purpose radar, with the user as its central axis.

Manites could record various forms of information, from vibrations and magical disturbances to even more subtle signals, all transmitted through their random collisions. The skill allowed one to decipher said fluctuations as they interacted with manites. The gathered data was then processed and converted into perceptible information that significantly enhanced the user's sensory awareness.

Cyril had been focused on probing the environment for an ideal spot to confront their pursuers while baiting them for as long as possible. Now that he was finally within range of a location with the perfect conditions for a supernatural brawl, there was no longer any need for them to play cat and mouse.

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