OLD-WORLD EXTRA

Chapter 467 Piece Of Light

467  Piece Of Light

***

Shinobi, the Reaper of the group, faced off against a man of similar disposition, following the trend the other duels had presented.

Both Celestials were clad in flowing robes, one a dark black and the other a bright white, their faces hidden beneath hoods.

Their hands rested on the hilts of their weapons, Spectral Scythes that shimmered with an ethereal glow, for they were truly ethereal, unable to be wielded by anyone but themselves.

Unlike the last four, their surroundings were clean of any damage, almost untouched.

That indicated just how careful they were since if any attack landed without interference, death would be a certain result.

Reapers were glass cannons, insane damage dealers but weak damage takers.

So while they were a danger to all, they were especially a danger to themselves.

With that in mind, Shinobi and the enemy Reaper vanished in what seemed to be an instant, their forms reappearing in the middle of their arena.

Their Spectral Scythes sliced through the air until they locked in a clash of strength, the force impact sending ripples of Aether around them, filled with death.

Their Death Marks had wanned in the past few minutes, so they reapplied them on each other, causing an engraving of the Reaper to appear on their opponent's skin.

Then, Shinobi's visage blurred, his weapon retreating for a moment, only to attack at a different angle.

His scythe arced through the darkness, narrowly missing his opponent's throat as he had twisted away at the last fraction.

Templar's Reaper retreated, but Shinobi didn't give chase; instead, he threw his scythe while raising his left hand.

Realizing what he was about to do, the priest threw his own scythe and extended both his hands, a fraction slower than Shinobi's. "Distant Grasp."

They summoned invisible chains that shot out their palms, latching onto each other's limbs in a deadly tug-of-war.

Just as their scythes clashed, Shinobi used his superior strength to yank his opponent toward him, while also commanding his scythe to return.

The priest and scythe moved at a similar speed, and again, he was a beat late in matching Shinobi's actions, so when he reached him, he had no scythe to defend himself with.

Shinobi enjoyed the panic he inflicted on his opponent and gripped his scythe as it landed on his right palm, releasing one set of the invisible chains as he leaned his body backward like a spring, about to unleash death.

Due to his shackles being momentarily loosened, the priest barely managed to twist free, but not before Shinobi's blade grazed his side, drawing first blood.

Not letting out any sound, not even a grunt, the man retreated once more, grabbing his floating scythe on the way back.

Then, a heavy fog descended upon him, blurring both his soul and body. It was Grim Veil, and that ability signaled a boring ritual.

Sure, it wasn't anything religious, but it most definitely looked like it.

The two would start running circles around each other, appearing like ghosts haunting an invisible being. Why do that? Well, hitting each other in that state was close to impossible, at least if either of them wanted to stay safe.

Sighing, Shinobi activated the ability as well, and for a moment, all was silent and still. But in the next, a single loud step resounded. The hunter group leader had given up on playing it safe. He was going to end it now.

Shinobi appeared in front of him, his scythe a blur as it sliced through the fog.

The priest, noticing the change in mentality, met him head-on, their weapons clashing with a series of rapid strikes.

Each blow was precise, every step, whether backward or forward, was calculated, and every twist and turn was aimed for a kill, but neither could land a decisive hit.

Grim Veil distorted their forms, making them seemingly flicker in and out of existence as they seemingly phased through each other's attacks.

Shinobi swung low, aiming for his opponent's legs, but the priest leaped into the air while his own scythe came down in an arc.

Shinobi twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the strike, and retaliated with a powerful horizontal slash.

The priest parried the blow as his feat reached the ground, the force of their collision sending small shockwaves through the air.

They disengaged for a brief moment, both panting as they circled each other, their scythes humming with Aether and Death.

Without warning, they clashed again, moving faster than before.

Their scythes blurred as they struck, dodged, and parried in a relentless barrage of attacks, almost dancing around each other.

15:37

Yet, refusing to let up, Shinobi pressed the attack.

He spun his scythe in a wide arc, and that forced the priest to backpedal.

His opponent's veil grew thicker as he inputted more of his Aether into it, making it harder to see, but Shinobi's instincts guided him, allowing him to anticipate his next move, which was a direct attack.

The priest had suddenly lunged forward, his scythe aiming for Shinobi's heart.

Shinobi waited a beat, then sidestepped at the last possible moment, feeling the blade graze his robes as it passed.

He retaliated with an upward slash, but his opponent blocked it with his scythe's pole, skidding back many steps.

They locked eyes for a brief moment, then both of them suddenly flinched, glancing at the distance.

There, the reason for such a reaction existed.

A floating piece of light was heading towards them.

The sight was unmistakable.

It was a soul.

While they did feel other souls earlier, flying up to wherever souls went, perhaps a place connected to the Nether's River, their Aspect, it was too far out of range to get attracted to them.

This one, however, was close, so it came to them out of its violation, recognizing them as Reapers that guided souls like it to where they belonged.

Whether that place was with its kin, somewhere above, or within a Reaper themselves, fully consumed and brought closer to what all beings loved, Aether, their mother tree, they didn't know.

All they knew at that moment was that they needed it.

"SOUL HARVEST!"

Shinobi roared, beating the priest to the punch. Absorbing that soul wouldn't just grant him a temporary buff capable of ending this battle within seconds—it would also edge him closer to the next rank.

Usually, consuming a soul didn't have such significant benefits, but this one was different.

Quality mattered, and this soul had power, likely a Seraphim killed by one of his allies.

The priest had the ability as well but knew that attempting to absorb the soul now wouldn't make a notable difference. At best, it would disrupt Shinobi's consumption of it for a few moments, not enough to change the tide of battle.

Accepting it as a lost cause, he decided against wasting time on the chant.

Instead, he went all out, fully committing to killing or at least crippling Shinobi, abandoning all concern for his own safety.

His scythe became a whirlwind of death, slashing through the air with incredible speed.

But Shinobi matched him blow for blow, his attacks slicing skin-deep marks in his opponent.

Their veils had dissipated as they began using Distant Grasp in between attacks, neither Seraphim willing to back down.

And as the soul was a second away from being consumed by Shinobi, the priest's strikes grew more intense, each swing of his scythe coming faster and harder than the last.

He was desperate.

The end was upon him and all he managed to do was scratch his opponent, and barely at that.

His own body had sustained much worse injuries.

But then all of a sudden, by their seventh clash in that single second, Shinobi's scythe glowed a pure white light, appearing almost tangible, the air around it vibrating with dark, dark Aether.

The priest knew that the end had arrived.

He was dead.

"I WON'T GO DOWN QUIETLY!"

No longer putting up any defense, he used all his remaining strength and jumped, swinging downwards, aiming to cleave Shinobi in half.

The priest was fast, incredibly so, but to the current Shinobi, he was no faster than a snail.

Shinobi closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye, and before his opponent could near him, he struck.

His scythe carved through the air, cutting through the priest and his scythe as if they were paper.

The blade had severed the connection between the Reaper's soul and body in one clean motion, killing him at once.

Separating into two parts, both the scythe and body fell to the ground, blood splattering on impact.

Soon after, the body began to rot and age, as if it were Turning Hollow while being corrupted at the same time.

Shinobi, still experiencing the high of absorbing that soul, watched in silence as the scythe dissipated and the body became an indescribable mess. His expression was unreadable beneath his hood, but it was apparent that the sight was too ugly for him, as he looked away, eyeing the distance where battle was still taking place. As he walked towards the sound, he felt the glowing mark of death slowly fading from his right hand.

"That felt nice."