Syclus held his breath.
'Come on, Mongrel! Use your spatial Aspect!'
From what he could see, this was the only chance the demonic swordsman had to escape.
However, as a fan himself, Syclus knew that Mongrel never used his Aspect in the Dreamscape, as if it was somehow beneath him. Mongrel only ever relied on his sword, his skill, and unadulterated technique.
'Such dignity…'
And this time, too, the mysterious warrior refused to compromise his unassailable, noble principles. Instead of activating his Ability, he simply lunged at the enemies without fear or doubt.
Then, something strange happened. His infamous odachi suddenly turned into a stream of impenetrably dark, liquid metal and flowed onto his arm, soon turning into a round shield. With that shield, Mongrel deflected an incoming javelin, then twisted his body, dodging a hail of razor-sharp windblades, and dove into an immolating stream of fire that one of the Awakened breathed out of her mouth.
…Miraculously, he emerged on the other side unscathed, like an infernal monster that could not be burned even in the flames of hell. The black armor reflected the crimson flames, somehow becoming even more menacing.
In the next second, Mongrel's spiked gauntlet connected with the face of one of the ambushers.
It was as if the poor man was hit by a mountain. His skull caved, and then exploded, the lifeless body folding as it flew to the side and turned into a rain of sparks.
What happened next could only be described as pure carnage.
The black figure pounced on the ambushers, using both his gauntleted fist and his round shield to sow devastation among their ranks. Mongrel moved with terrifying speed and devious cunning, using the bodies of his enemies to block or prevent attacks from their comrades. Syclus wasn't sure, but he thought that he saw a couple of them die from friendly fire.
The rest fell to the demonic butcher himself, though. Every move Mongrel made was precise, calculated, and deadly… but also brutal and utterly cruel. He danced among his enemies like a grim reaper, killing them one after another without showing any sign of even knowing what mercy or hesitation were. Blood, screams, and flashes of light filled the clearing for a good couple of minutes.
And when it was all over, the lone black figure was left standing alone amidst the bodies, covered in blood from head to toe. A moment later, that blood turned into sparks of light, too, and awash in light, Mongrel stepped forward, his armor as black as pristine as ever.
Syclus remained silent for a few moments, and then said hoarsely:
"Hey, Dimi… Did Mongrel just… slaughtered twelve Awakened solo?"
The older man cleared his throat.
"That, uh… you know, I might rethink my bet. Actually, my money is on that man."
His colleague blinked a couple of times. After that, he glanced at the comments and forced out a smile.
"...Is he even a man, though?"
***
Meanwhile, Sunny was on the verge of collapsing onto the ground.
'Argh! Everything hurts! What the hell, why is this stupid battle royale so intense?! I almost sullied my pants!'
That battle… hell, it was too close. He barely managed to survive, and had only prevailed because the twelve Awakened were clearly not a real cohort. They were experienced enough to coordinate their physical attacks, but when varied and unique Aspect Abilities had come into play, all their cohesion turned into pure havoc.
He had used that confusion to quickly get rid of the most dangerous opponents, and then somehow cleaned up the rest. The Mantle of the Underworld still took several solid hits… the armor itself held, but his body beneath was bruised and battered.
'Are these damn rewards even worth it? Damn, they'd better be!'
Suppressing a pained groan, he willed the Soul Serpent to turn back into an odachi, and headed away from the clearing.
'Just five hundred... four hundred and eighty-eight left. This is going to be a long day...'