Reincarnated As A Mosquito

Chapter 57: Copy Cat



Chapter 57: Copy Cat

Chapter 57: Copy Cat

"Running so fast? I thought you wanted to have some fun with me." Freya said, with a sharp smile on her face, she walked forward. The air around her was cracking with the immense use of Aether.

Ben looked at her, and of the number of people on the ground, they weren't put unconscious or mildly injured like Ben had to them. They had been fatally injured and left bleeding on the ground.

"Is she possessed again?" Ben wondered, his gaze fixed on the faint hint of purple in her eyes. If she were possessed at this moment, it would catch him completely off guard.

[No, she's in full control.]

"Tsk, well, I just need some blood right now," Ben chuckled. He aimed, preparing to launch a blood bullet at the middle-aged man. However, before he could execute his attack, a razor-sharp gust of wind sliced into the ground in front of him.

"This one's my mark," Freya declared, her eyes not leaving the middle-aged man. She harnessed her wind element to enhance her agility as she ran towards the middle-aged man with the wooden sword in her hand.

The middle-aged man seized the opportunity to rise from the ground and swiftly swung his wooden spear to intercept Freya's attack.

A resonating clash echoed through the surroundings as the magical force of Freya's weapon met the man's wooden spear. The unexpected resistance took her by surprise.

"Surprised?" The middle-aged man taunted, holding his ground against the force of the sword. He leaned to the left with calculated precision, evading the sword's path. "You're not the only one who wields magic. Witness this and despair, for there are individuals with even greater powers than you can ever fathom."

With precise footwork, he manoeuvred into Freya's blind spot, delivering a slashing blow to her back with the sharp edge of the spear. Surprisingly, the aged, rusty spear managed to cut through her leather armour, drawing blood.

Infuriated, Freya leaped backward, putting some distance between them. She channelled healing magic to stop the bleeding and mend her wounds.

[A/N: Freya's healing magic isn't that strong; she can only stop bleeding with it. Healing a wound will require much more magic and time. ]

"With my ability, I can enhance or reduce the class of any weapon I come into contact with. This wooden spear you see in my hands is even mightier than an advanced-class weapon," the middle-aged man proudly declared, using his spear to fend off the approaching wind sashes.

In her fury, Freya closed the distance to the man once more, infusing her sword with wind magic to heighten its sharpness. With a swift slash, she aimed her blade at the middle-aged man.

However, to her astonishment, the man remained standing nonchalantly. He extended his hand, effortlessly catching the sword in midair. A metallic sound echoed as Freya's sword came to a halt in his grasp, with only a few drops of blood trickling down his palm.

"Decay," he commanded, and in the next moment, Freya's sword shattered into pieces, as though it had weathered countless years of exposure to sunlight and rain, turning into crumbling wood.

"And when I say the things I touch, it also includes my own body," the middle-aged man continued, slashing his spear once more and inflicting a wound on Freya's belly.

"Should I join the battle right now? Maybe...not," Ben contemplated, observing the middle-aged man gaining the upper hand in the confrontation with Freya.

[You can intervene if there's immediate danger, which doesn't seem to be the case here, fortunately.]

"Ya, right," Ben replied, returning his attention to the ongoing battle. He decided to consume the blood of those injured by Freya to bolster his strength.

On the battlefield, the middle-aged man charged toward Freya, and Freya reciprocated by running toward her opponent, preparing a wind blade in her left hand and a water ball in her right. Just as the man was about to attack, she unleashed a powerful water ball towards him.

'Boom!'

A deafening explosion filled the air as the middle-aged man halted in his tracks to fend off the oncoming water assault.

Meanwhile, Freya continued her charge, her agility heightened by wind magic. She slid along the ground, mirroring Ben's earlier kick, and executed a spin on her palms to strike the man's legs, launching him into the air.

The sequence of attacks caught him off guard, and before he could regain his footing, a powerful punch connected with his chest. This move was borrowed from Ray: infusing the punch with high-density fire magic that blasts upon contact; however, in Freya's case, this was with a high-density wind blade.

She prepared several wind blades in her hand, but instead of launching them, she compressed the attack around her fist, making a green orb surrounding her fist.

As her fist made contact, the wind magic around it erupted into numerous wind blades. With precise force and accuracy, each blade cut deeply into the man's enhanced body, tearing his leather armour to shreds. He was flung backward, colliding with a cart that toppled over.

"If it weren't for my enhanced physique, I'd be fatally injured already. What kind of technique is this?" he pondered, grimacing as he coughed up blood.

"You...bitch..." The man cursed Freya, attempting to rise to his knees. But Freya's expression remained cold and unchanging as she extended her hand towards the man, casting a water ball spell.

Tiny droplets materialised out of thin air, converging in her hand. However, this time, instead of forming a spherical shape, the water took on a sharper, smaller, and more bullet-like form, rotating on its axis like a drill.

"This is...my blood bullet attack," Ben exclaimed, realising that Freya had adapted his and Ray's techniques to create her spell.

'Boom!'

While Ben was still in disbelief, a thunderous sound reverberated across the plain as the water bullet struck the man's forehead, ending his life in an instant.

"Die like the filth you are," Freya remarked with a chilling expression, her eyes aglow in complete purple, showing no emotion in the face of the bloody spectacle before her.


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