PS: THE CHAPTER CONTAINS A HUGE AMOUNT OF PHYSICS' CONCEPTS - SO IF YOU HATE PHYSICS, YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!
THE CENTER OF ALL THAT HAPPENS TO ME
"I feel sick."
He was looking down. Although there wasn't any apparent physical change, it was remarkable that something about him had changed, something in the inside. He felt exhausted. Too tired to keep doing anything.
Tired and traumatized. Exhausted, but still with a mind that refused to rest. There was no way to forget that, nothing he saw would ever be lost.
"I feel horrible."
Those symptoms were the physical manifestation of everything he had experienced in that moment of reality that had just turned to dust and ash in the wind, eternally scattered. The lump in his throat was the words he could never bring himself to say. That gash in his stomach, with a heavy acidity, were all his feelings, the ones that were never revealed.
And that exhaustion was much more than just tiredness. It didn't stop being that - tiredness, but even so, there was something so much bigger about that feeling... Something that would be impossible to describe with just a few words.
If he had been curious to touch it right below his eyes, the boy would have noticed the large bags of flesh that were already forming there, like those of a person who had not been able to sleep for days.
Crusch would finish her speech in no time, and soon it would be Emilia's turn. He promised that he would listen to her, that he would root for her, and that he would make sure everyone knew that the things she said and felt were really true. He gave himself the task of doing this.
...But, he had no energy. He couldn't clap his hands, think of something nice and convincing to say... That would be too simple, but at the same time, it was infinitely difficult.
"I would rather be dead."
But that would be breaking a promise, wouldn't it? Emilia... She had felt in a way he would never have come to understand when the girl learned about those things. The Half-Elf girl had always been extremely concerned about his condition.
She was the one who reminded him that there was a breakfast and that he should take it. She was the one who always approached him when she saw him alone. She was the one who always tried to talk and learn more about him. She was the one who had always been there, even when he thought he could handle it all himself.
"... But I can... I can solve my problems myself!"
"Really? Do you really think you've done anything by yourself so far?"
It was as if two antagonistic forces were fighting inside the torn person that was Ryan Savoia at that moment.
"Yes, I did! I did... I saved Emilia from Elsa, I rescued the village children... I can handle it myself!"
"No. You can not. Even because, in each one of these situations..."
The two voices had the same origin, two halves of the unconscious of the same person... And one of them seemed to be getting closer and closer to winning.
"In none of those moments were you truly alone. You've never done anything for yourself, Ryan Savoia."
That was the calmest voice, who seemed to know exactly what he was talking about. His tone was easily understandable and a little slow, as if he wanted to make every aspect he brought up highly clear. It was sweet in a way that couldn't be described, but at the same time it was heavily astringent, and it burned in the mouth like soda.
"Do not fool yourself. At no time in your life were you alone. Not in this world, not in that other one." The voice began to speak. "The truth is that you always thought you were too much, that's a fact. No one is special for walking around by themselves, being and acting lonely, just to say 'it's okay'. No one is too capable to say that they never needed or will ever need help. And with that, you forget something..."
... ... ...
"You were always the helper, never the protagonist."
Ryan felt the pressure inside his stomach almost leak out. He brought a hand to his mouth, swallowing the great bitterness back.
"In that old world, the true heroes fought and bled, but you only helped. You always followed the Hero's orders, didn't you? You always end up leaving him to eliminate the biggest threat while you dealt with the weaker... Tell me if that's a remote trace of protagonism?" His own conscience was mocking Ryan, even appearing to take some satisfaction in it. "Your sacrifice was in vain - the one time you tried to take the initiative, you did it to die... Isn't that really pathetic?"
His mind continued to speak, scattering those arguments, which, though unwanted, were nothing but the plainest truth.
"In this world it was no different either. Doing everything yourself? Saving the day? Ha, don't make yourself laugh, Ryan Savoia... Deep down you know that you always had help, that you couldn't have saved Emilia without the help of Julius and Reinhard, that you couldn't have defeated Rem without Beatrice's support, and also that you would never have saved that village if it weren't for Emilia, who now doesn't even know how much she's been betrayed."
... ... ...
"All because of the selfish train of thinking that you're a little special just for having experienced certain things. No one could be more proud than you... Oh no, it's not pride! That has another name, a very good one... It's called indolence ."
Ryan felt like something moved inside him, tearing, only to rebuild it all over again. It was painful, but he forced himself to hang on, locking his teeth together.
"You were complacent, lazy. You don't like to worry, don't like having to get involved until it's for a personal cause or the situation itself reaches the limit... But even so, you always manage to come up with an argument to justify having done something about it, or worse, for not having done a single thing. You are merely pressured and driven into action by the situations you find yourself in, you never have a drop of proactivity. All of your successes are nothing but pushes by external factors. You were never a hero because you never acted for it, never wanted to take responsibility, and above all-."
"Shut up...!"
He screamed internally with all his might, just wanting to get out of there and throw everything in the air, leaving all the factors to luck. Grabbing his head, Ryan looked down, locking his teeth tighter and tighter.
In a way that mixed an attempt to maintain discretion with the immense desire to make everything there go up in the air with an explosion, he took himself out of there, creating a portal in the midst of the shadows.
/
Damn... Damn... Damn... Damn... Damn...!
I can't do anything...! Time is short, and it just runs more and more through my hands... And there's nothing I can do, once again...!
I don't know where the bomb is... I don't know! I got too busy thinking about my death that never came to be, so much so that if it didn't, I might have seen where the explosion came from...!
I couldn't help anyone again... I couldn't be of any help at all...!
I always end up ruining everything wherever I go... People who interact with me always end up dead in some cruel way, victims of this fate that seems to cling to my shadow. I never save them, just when they need me most.
I couldn't save my best friend in the other world, I couldn't save the girl I liked, I couldn't save the people from dying down there, I couldn't stop everything that happened in the most efficient way.
In short, I couldn't do anything.
I know I might be starting to get mad, thinking this way to myself, like I'm talking to someone... But I can't have the will to care about it. I let everything around me simply happen...
I thought this would work itself out, you know? With this power to go back in time through death... I thought that if I were the only one to die, no other tragedy would repeat itself, as long as I could go back and redo it.
I would never have to be responsible, would never have to feel bad if something bad happened... Just go back in time, after all, and all the nonsense would be fixed. As long as it stayed that way, it would be perfect for me.
... Or at least that's what I wanted to think, isn't it? I just used that power to do what I've always done - have a reason not to feel bad when something goes wrong.
I knew it was my fault... It was always all my fault! But still, I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to suffer from it. I didn't want to think that I could have done things differently, and that the situation itself could be changed if I was a little less lazy.
So I would cling to anything that would take away that possible guilt, whether it was a person saying "it wasn't your fault" or even a show of compassion for my feelings… I always wanted to deny that I had any responsibility for the facts.
And the same was no different with this new power. I killed and let die, said things and let him tell me things... Only to have everything erased later and I think it would be enough to just start again.
I always tried to put on a facade of hypocrisy – "I don't want to go back. Everything I said and lived will be lost." But look what always ends up happening... As long as I can go back to fix problems, I'll do it in the most indiscriminate way, forgetting those things I theoretically preach.
...I can say with all certainty that I hate myself very much.
Always using my life as a kind of "unspoken example", you might say... Affirming my memories and feelings, again and again, and acting like I'm a special person for going through the pain processes in that does nothing to solve, the clear example of a person who wants to get sympathy for drama.
I killed Emilia and Ram, and... You know what?
"Even though I felt undoubtely bad, knowing I could go back and fix this after all... I knew none of that would actually come to be. So I just forgot it like it was nothing in a couple days." I ended up letting myself talk, making my own low voice echo through the dark place.
No consequences would come. I wouldn't be punished, and that wouldn't be remembered by anyone. Emilia and Ram continued to act as they always did to me, as if I were harmless, unable to scratch them in the slightest.
"If they only knew…" … And so, I continued to evade responsibility.
Emilia... I failed her so much... And even though it all started again, and that story has been erased...
Why can't I stop feeling so bad now?!
I'm just disgusted with myself now! What I did to her... There's no way to explain or try to understand those feelings...! Emilia felt betrayed when she heard me say those things, when she heard, openly, that I was never willing to share my secrets or talk about myself, that I didn't trust her the way she trusted me.
That must have hurt her so much... And at no point did I want to think about it. In no time, I wanted to feel responsible for causing all that pain.
This desire to work it out alone is not pride and much less greed - leagues better if it was any of these things, for the real reason was something far more pathetic and baseline!
"I just didn't want to have to feel responsible if something went wrong. I just wanted someone to tell me it wasn't my fault. That, as I couldn't do it before, I just had to try again, and again, and again, until I did, and I wouldn't have any problem with that."
Right now, Emilia is doing her best in front of all those nobles full of prejudices and bitter looks to provide, and she believes with all her might in the thought that I'm there, watching... I could go there now, put on a smile on my face and pretending that everything is fine, but...
"I feel so exhausted…" I looked up, letting my body relax over that huddle of old wooden boxes, positioned just a little way down the last three steps of an obscure path in the Capital.
... ... ...
"I see, I see... Sloth is really an unforgivable evil, isn't it?"
A distorted voice makes me stand up. I feel like I know this vocalization, and something in me says it's not a good thing... Immediately jumping from where I was, I let my eyes meet that person.
"Greetings, faithful one of love!" The man distorted, visibly making the sounds of bones breaking and cracking. "Your person's call is what called me here. The Witch's love emanates with intensity from you!"
He then corrected his posture with what appeared to be a highly painful movement in a normal person, and carrying that same black book with him, let his greenish skin tell me everything I needed to know.
"Yes...!" He bent his neck in an angle of rotation that would easily exceed 270°, smiling in the end. "You are indeed blessed with the Witch's infinite love! A love like that which emanates from you must not be ignored...! Oh, how could I... How could I ignore a love like this?! How could I tolerate such abundance in front of me...!"
He then, to the inner dismay of Ryan's already tumultuous emotions, began biting his fingertips in a way that simulated the blades of a crusher. He drew blood with extreme ease, not appearing to be impacted in the least by the pain.
"What kind of monster is this guy?!" Ryan wondered, feeling his face twist in disgust as he saw that bloodshed on the alley floor.
"Love… Love…! I was lazy, lazy, lazy...! Forgive this believer who, in his complacency, ignored all this love!" He screamed more and more, rolling his eyes upwards until they too began to bleed like two small rivers.
Ryan backed up a little, swallowing his saliva. He couldn't help but think about Emilia's condition when he saw that scene so similar.
This was the same green-skinned man he and Rem had fought. Just by looking at his appearance, anyone can feel an immeasurable amount of dread, and with Ryan it was no different. Everything about the man had a certain uncanny property. The eyes were sunken and very wide, the face malnourished, but even so he kept moving strangely and literally self-mutilating every second.
"... But now." He spontaneously stopped, taking on a much more serious tone. "We will start the great work in the name of the Witch's love."
He announced. That voice, so deep and different from the previous one, entered his ears like an icy wave of mountain air, yet with the power of a wave at sea. Ryan felt every point in his body tremble as that startled gaze looked deep into his soul, smiling with a bloody mouth.
He clapped his hands very lightly, and spontaneously, a large number of hooded Cultists gathered around the two. There were about twenty of them, and they all appeared to be highly uniform, both in height and manner of acting. They were like robots, keeping themselves fixed and without any unplanned action.
Whatever they were going to do, Ryan couldn't let it happen. The boy bit his own tongue a little, thinking about everything he had been introspecting about at that moment.
"I really hope I got something out of it... That's why I hate to think about things too much."
If he drew the sword now, he would immediately be taking on a great responsibility. That wasn't a problem in itself, however, what made him reflect was what existed behind that gesture, what would come after that.
"Am I just looking for one more justification for when I make a mistake?"
"I fought." ."I did something". ... Is that the reason he would be fighting? For when he needs to redo the loop, say he at least tried and that's why everything was fine?
"Now that I know how this works, this excuse won't work anymore."
He took a deep breath. It was time to face the problem as if he really wanted to solve it all at once.
FIGHT ON
" [Transport] ."
He pulled the sword straight from that piece of "anti-space". Its silvery glow bounced off the few beams of light entering the narrow alley space with great performance.
"It's time to stop kidding around." He thought to himself. Ryan wouldn't hold back any longer.
He pointed the blade at the unnaturally textured, green-skinned man. Bringing the silvery glow in beams to collide with his eyes, he referred to the abnormal being.
"Why are you here? And for what reasons do you want to attack the Capital?!"
The man didn't hesitate to answer, cackling like crazy at what passed as a good five seconds before answering. Bending his neck once more, this time making it almost a complete circular turn, his mouth dropped open.
"To spread love to the people of this place! Eternal faith in the Witch's infinite love is the way to that for sure! Once everyone is enveloped in eternal love, everything will be different, and there will be true happiness by the side of the Witch... Witch! Witch!" He just said more and more meaningless things, with high abstract and insane content every second.
"Yeah, it looks like it won't do any good trying to talk to you." Ryan said, revealing what he had already expected to happen. "I hope you're ready to reveal to me everything that's inside that crazy head of yours. That is, after I…"
... ... ...
The Cultist leader was made to look to the side by that movement of immense speed. It was almost as if that figure had changed position instantly in midair! Before he even knew it, Petelgeuse Romanee-conti had already lost two of his most faithful followers.
"But what is this?!" He yelled, in the least pleasant kind of surprise.
"Look, I really didn't want to be doing this… And I still don't. Your attack is a pain in the ass, and you have no idea how much this shitty idea of putting a bomb in the middle of that Castle has given me headaches."
Two Cultists had their skulls crushed in an explosion of blood and gray brain matter. As if they were two watermelons, Ryan grabbed each head on one side, slamming them together at an extreme speed that scattering organic matter in all directions.
"How could you… How could you?! In such an arbitrary, so simple-minded way... Killing two of my most dilligent...!" He yelled, visibly enraged by what he had just witnessed. "Attack!"
"I don't want to waste any more of my time on this." Ryan replied, giving him a cold, answering look.
The cultists prepared an [El Goa] together. Fire Magic at a moderately powerful level would turn out to be something big when combined by all the 18 that were left. In that movement, a great inferno of orange flames began to form.
"I've seen this movie before." Ryan readied his sword, preparing to make a direct attack. "And I can already think of a different ending."
He ironically started running towards the fireball, the opposite of what any normal person would do instead. Aiming the stabbing end of the blade at Petelgeuse and his circle of followers, he put his goal in mind.
" [El Goa]. " In unison, so as not to express the slightest emotion, just like the machines they were, the group of Cultists conjured up that huge projectile that looked like a miniature sun.
"... And that was just the mistake you made." Ryan said out loud. " [Transport] ."
Suddenly, that same dimensional gap from which he pulled the sword solidified in front of everyone, and more specifically, the great ball of fire. The portal had been expanded enough to be able to successfully absorb the attack.
The fireball immediately vanished with immense speed, being swallowed up by the shadows. Ryan quickly closed the portal, completely surprising the Cultists.
He leapt into the air, coming down with a stab. In that single blow, one of them was already dead.
And it didn't take long for the second and third to follow. The indestructible properties and extreme sharpness of the blade he carried were able to burst and slash through the ritualistic daggers that became comparable to sheets of paper.
And there was also a second factor. At close range, those figures didn't look like good fighters. Lack of mastery of physical skills was indeed a reality for most Mages, with only a few recognizing the value of body-oriented training and its use for combat.
"Well, I guess I can't ask for much more from a sword that was used by Satan itself...!" Ryan thought, smiling a little inwardly. "I hate to admit it, but..."
He slashed, with a single series of three quick slashes, more Cultist frames, thus reducing their numbers to just over a dozen.
"Thanks for the gift... Father."
That sword was made of metal that couldn't be found anywhere - it literally didn't exist anywhere! It was an item of the highest class, created by a divine being of immense power, made to be used by his first creation of light, one that unfortunately gave itself over to the dark.
Rothius loved Volkihar. Perhaps even more than he loved many of his other creations, and that blade, a true work of art impossible to replicate and utterly timeless, was proof of that. It was a shame that this was never recognized by the creation of light.
"Well, he even put his name on the blade! Just like a father who writes his son's name on the tray he takes to school..."
When a very specific Mana signature was sent through the silvery, polished surface, the icing on the cake would appear - right at the base of the blade, luminous characters would appear, written in a language that only those with the power of angels can see or read. Ryan didn't know how, but he had an innate knowledge of how to read it - it was like "being born knowing."
"To my most beloved. "
... ... ...
"What an irony for this to end up in my hands..." He mused, smiling. "But enough thinking about it. Time to get this story over with."
"Hey, wanna see a cool trick? It's a little difficult to do, but I think I can..."
Ryan looked at a Cultist who was threatening to attack him head on. Instead of attacking, he just dodged the stab wounds of what appeared to be a woman.
"I just need to snap my fingers like that and... Oh, it looks like it worked!"
Screams of pain ran all over the place, reverberating and bouncing off the walls as the person burned and twisted in place like a torch flame. The angry scarlet took over everything, consuming the flesh little by little, leaving an unrecognizable mass of slow destruction, generating immense suffering.
"This kind of thing... This... This!" The man with the languid face felt himself burning inside as much as that person was. He was once again biting his fingers, replaying in his mind how impossible that was.
There was no spark or fire. In fact, no pair of eyes would detect anything happening at the time of that spontaneous combustion that was so strange. Ryan had done something, a kind of specific ability that was rather difficult to generate.
Although he has no affinity with any of the basic elements, he still has Magic, and with that, a power that arises from the base of the ability to manipulate energy accompanies his person. Precisely because he doesn't have a specific and defined Magic skill, he can do a certain thing easily, something that not even many of the Great Mages can't do.
And that was manipulating the very power that was the basis of Magic - Entropy .
Everything in the universe is made up of chaos, an increasing thermal magnitude, which will bring about the end of everything that exists once it reaches its peak. A cooler object becomes warm by receiving a charge from a warmer object, and such previously hotter object becomes cooler by giving away that heat. In a perfectly isolated system, heat exchange would stop at the exact moment the two reached the same temperature.
And that's what chaos means. The temperature, heat, and agitation of all atoms and molecules is what allows the universe to continue to exist.
And what would happen, for example, if everything that exists in the universe had the same temperature? There would be no heat exchanges or temperature changes, which means that...
"Reality itself would end." Ryan completed his train of thought.
Universal chaos is ever-increasing, and there is no real way to reduce it in any way. Everything is made of chaos, every action, be it taken or not, causes an increase in entropy. That force will keep going up and up, until the entire universe is homeotherm after all.
"And I control the very base of that power... Chaos is my Magic...!"
Ryan held out his hand, thinking of that feeling that was already so common to him. He wondered what the people around him would think if they knew he was literally playing with the clock that regulated the rest of this world's lifetime, and worst of all, just making it speed up every time he used Magic.
"To the wall you go!" He created an invisible force wave, made up of pure fundamental force. It was like manipulating an analogue of gravity itself. With that, four more Cultists landed on a wall, colliding hard.
Pieces of stone brick from the alley fell to the ground, revealing the great force of that impact. Manipulating forces like nothing, breaking chemical bonds between atoms and molecules, or even hyper-energizing these bonds to make people and creatures literally explode from the inside out or ignite due to the immense amount of heat generated by the manipulation of chaos. Doing all this was his power.
Just like that time, when he'd fought Rem at the manor and didn't want to admit his death, he'd witnessed that feeling once more. Ryan felt strangely inspired by everything around him. He looked down at his own hand, and smiled, wondering what exactly that was.
"I'm feeling that same urge of wanting to survive this and see what happens next." He concluded, smiling at the end. "I need to cultivate this feeling more often."
The time had come to stop running. Personally, Ryan hated having to find fault within his own character, although he was quite good at it, and to keep that from happening, he'd pledged, so that only he could hear himself, that he was going to change.
"Nobody needs to know that. Rather, they will see it happen."
He raised a fist upward, pulling in an immense amount of air. Both Petelgeuse and what was left of the Cultists were alerted by that action. They could feel that something big was approaching.
The space around Ryan began to distort - it was as if the air in the boy's immediate vicinity had taken on a consistency of liquid, pulsing and distorting around itself. He allowed himself to open his eyes, revealing a steady, purposeful purple glow.
And then, in a single snap of his fingers, he let those waves that surrounded his body expand almost infinitely, and at high speed, towards all the spaces on the horizon. It was like a bomb that dealt with gravitational force itself.
The Cultists didn't even have time to react as the distortion in space stretched out, lifting their bodies into the air. The feeling of being hit by it was bizarre - similar to being electrocuted, but nothing dramatic or painful; it had similarities to being surrounded by water on all sides, but there was no pressure outside. It was a kind of vertigo-inducing vibration, making even your own organs quiver in place, while you couldn't feel anything outside.
An empty space, which, paradoxically, was not empty at the same time. This was what was felt as the telekinetic pulse waves erupted, without generating a single damage.
And then, so suddenly, came the sensation of moving at a speed that surpassed any that could be physically sensed and calculated by the brain. Creation and destruction at the same time, within the same and unchanging plan.
Atoms splitting, dividing. Links being broken and remade in such a short time as to be universally dismissed as no time at all. Repositioning, twisting, distortion. Deconstruction, reconstruction, making, organization.
A ball dance of matter and energy, running all over the place, without even having to leave the place.
The knock on the wall. One millisecond... Two milliseconds... Three milliseconds... And all that accumulated was felt in the shape of an enormous amount of heat being generated and released at the same moment, turning flesh, tissue and bone into nothing but pure atoms at the time, being spread by wind; cosmic dust in its most fundamental state.
One move and all the Cultists were dead. Everyone except their leader. Finishing his stance, which was, yes, a little drastic, Ryan took one more time to grace the man with a rather mocking smile.
"This... This... You... You kill my beloved followers of love... All so diligent... All so capable of taking the Witch's love...!" He looked at Ryan with eyes that burned with hatred. " [Authority of Sloth - Unseen Hands]!"
"...! This is power I didn't let him use last time...!"
Ryan was confident, but he didn't know what to expect… However, something instinctively told him that he should jump back, to evade something.
"What is it?!" He felt himself move back, avoiding anything that would be that with a leap.
But the question was - there was nothing there! He had diverted, in his conception, nothing but pure air.
Ryan rolled on the floor, aware of whatever was around him. Going behind the boxes that were in the alley, however, he realized that there was, yes, something quite wrong with the situation.
It was getting sharper. As he called for his powers to watch the manic man approaching, it became clearer and more concise. First, it was tiny fibers of some kind of energy, which, within seconds, began to condense into some vague shape that he couldn't quite define.
More effort. Putting more pressure on his analytical eyes, he began to see... Sharper, sharper...
"Die in the name of the Witch...! Sloth will eliminate anything that gets in the way of the Witch's eternal love...! Proof of love!" He yelled incomprehensibly.
"That...!"
In what appeared to be a single volley of a mighty gale, all the wooden boxes in the alley were shattered into mere pieces piled on top of one another on the floor.
Ryan dodged a possible attack once more. He could be alerted by that instinct, which was like a supernatural kind of intuition. The problem was that just that, coupled with the pale, almost non-existent vision of objects coming out of the man's back, didn't make any of this any easier.
"I can't keep playing dodge forever…! I have to deal with this guy, and after that... I have to find time to get the bomb out of the Castle...!"
First, he had to find out what kind of power that was. Sight wasn't the most reliable of the senses, as he could barely make sense of it, even with a great deal of focus.
Second, defeating that madman, which in itself wasn't very difficult, but required the completion of the first objective.
"Take this...!" Ryan reached forward, moving a sliver of air with his telekinetic powers.
The man, biting his fingers and clutching his head as he babbled intelligibly, stared up at the sky, letting it take care of everything, counterbalancing the force and matter sent by Ryan.
"Sloth...! Sloth...! Love love love...! Witch!" He sent out another attack, screaming at the top of his lungs.
Ryan dodged it, this time with a little difficulty, earning a subtle cut on his left arm.
"Damn it...!" He said. "But now... I think I've figured it out."
Trying to buy as much distance as he thought of a plan, he began creating several small light projectiles. That required concentration, as I had to create them and shoot them at the same time, acting almost like an automatic machine gun. That seemed to be minimally effective in keeping him away while thinking of a plan.
"Whatever that power is, it can block waves and matter at the same time... Well, I shouldn't be trying to fit physics from a world without Magic into one where it exists, but if I were to consider it..."
Petelgeuse used his hands to block the shots of light, creating a dome around himself that could do the job relatively well. Ryan realized this and saw that he would have to rush to the making of that plan.
"You must be killed… Killed in the name of the Witch, in sacrifice of love for her…! That's what we'll do! That's it! We will be diligent!"
"It can move both matter and energy... Matter and energy... Matter and-"
A lamp lit up inside the boy's mind, and he looked at Petelgeuse, who seemed to be slowly approaching.
"Energy. That's it... Energy! This guy can control forces...!"
Only one force can negate another force, and this property of Petelgeuse's power had already been revealed from the beginning. By the time Ryan released his "force bomb", the man was the only one not affected in any way.
Second, if his power had been physical, he wouldn't have been able to stop the energy, only the matter that accompanied it. And only one force is able to cancel out another force.
"That makes sense. Like me, this guy should be able to manipulate the energy of kinetic work somehow... Of course! He is Slothafter all!"
Having your work done by others, but still receiving the results of it, is without a doubt every sluggard's dream. Taking the expression "Work" in its most numerical sense, "Work" is a release of energy through the use of force. Work can only be done by forces!
"I discovered your ability... And now I know exactly how to look at it and beat you...!" Ryan pointed at Petelgeuse, shifting focus.
The pieces of wood on the floor. Looking down, he lifted several of them, keeping them aloft.
"What do you think you can do with this? You know you'll never get to me!" Petelgeuse countered. "You look really proud to me... Maybe you're Pride?"
"Heh… I would say far from it. I don't have a lot to be proud of." He said. "And who said I'm going to throw these at you?"
Ryan then closed the handle, applying crushing pressure against all the fragments of wooden boxes, and then...
"... What?!" Petelgeuse complained, feeling his vision obstructed by a sea of beige fog.
"Sawdust Bomb! Perfect, now I can see your power!"
He was really right. Now, with the large amount of sawdust microparticles light enough to be carried in the air for a few seconds, he could see. There were several hands.
The distinctive shapes of the outstretched limbs expelled any wood dust that might accumulate there, letting it reveal itself.
"Now I can finish you off...! And I just thought of a great way to do that." Ryan let himself speak. "Up we go!"
He piled up Mana on his feet, forcing a leap. It was time to return a certain gift...
"It's time to see if what I saw in that anime was really correct... It's not flour and we're not in a completely sealed place, but it should burn the same way...!"
He reached out once more, opening a certain known portal of darkness.
"Time to return the gift." He smiled as the portal began to emit a peculiar, intense orange light. "[El Goa] ...!"
It didn't take a moment for the great orange mass to emerge from the portal. Time is a concept that doesn't exist in that infinite piece of nothing, so the Magic attack kept the same aspect as when it was absorbed, plus it didn't damage any of the other things that were also inside.
When the sawdust was hit, the effect, while not quite as expected given the conditions, was certainly surprising. Each small fragments of particulate wood were very close together, forming a dense smoke-like atmosphere.
Under given conditions, and counting on the presence of oxygen, the same effect occurs that would be seen when lighting a match in a gaseous environment - that is, an intense explosion.
But this was not an enclosed space, so the contact of the flames with the explosion generated something much closer to a "flame thrower effect", with relatively inert fire going all over the place, other than an explosion itself.
That is, to simplify further, Petelgeuse did not explode - the madman instead caught fire from head to toe.
"AAAAAAAHHHH!" Screams representing the purest agony filled the entire alley.
Petelgeuse began to roll, trying to undo the flames that intensely covered and melted every inch of his body. Ultimately, he forced the invisible hands to come out again, and used those to undo the fire by smothering.
"Impossible... Inadmissible... Illogical...!" He screamed, displaying his newest hideous, charred figure. "You... You, you, you, you...!"
The bereft of sanity was unrecognizable - the charred skin, completely blackened and dark as coal, oozed and flaked like the thin film covering the yolk of an egg. Looking at his right hand, one could see that the bones in his arm were entirely exposed, with skin and tissue mixed together in a hideous oozing ooze.
The Cultist outfit clung to his skin like plastic, making it look even worse and more haunting.
He once again directed his unseen hands in Ryan's direction.
"You lost your morale. It won't work. Even because..."
... ... ...
"I'm actually right here, right behind you."
The Ryan staring at him from afar simply dematerialized, revealing himself to be a clone. Every damaged nerve in Petelgeuse sent shock waves as he heard that voice beside his left ear, as well as that final stab.
A sheer heart attack - not in the most literal sense, was aimed right in the middle of the chest, and Petelgeuse fell to the ground.
"I know you haven't died yet." Ryan lifted Petelgeuse's body. "Spit it all out and tell me where's the bomb?! Where did you put it?!"
Realizing he couldn't just play dead, he opened his eyes, and let a bloody smile trickle down.
"You… will never make it… in time…" He said.
"Oh? Bold of you to try me!" He said. "Well, if you're not going to tell, it looks like I'm going to have to take it myself!"
Ryan placed a hand on Petelgeuse's head, drawing the attention of that excited body that shouldn't even be able to physically be alive.
"Do not worry. This is going to hurt a lot. A lot on you, not a bit on me."
/TIMESKIP/
"Huh...?" Julius was surprised by that small pulse of Mana that he felt rising from two of his crystals. It was the spirits In and Nes, who seemed to want to warn him of something. It was the second time that these spirits reacted in such a way.
... ... ...
"Okay... Time to act."
A portal materialized in a dark spot where no one could see. From there, the boy came out with a slight cut on his arm. No biggie, just the clothes a little ripped. He brushed off some dust, and at once looked at the center of everything.
A debate seemed to be taking place between the candidates. Everyone discussed things and spoke in loud tones. Since it was late, Ryan wasn't placed in context, and therefore didn't know what, exactly, they were talking about.
But as he looked at Emilia, his suspicions came true - she was truly shaken by this course of events.
Unlike the other candidates, the silver-haired Half-Elf kept her face down with a crestfallen expression. She didn't participate in the discussion along with the others.
"Probably no one wants her to participate..." Ryan thought, biting his lip. "Once again, I'm sorry, Emilia..."
One last time. A person can't live on just begging for mercy, and it was through all that thinking that Ryan led him to conclude something very important.
"I'm not special enough not to need help."
It didn't matter what he lived, the things he went through, or whatever - no hardship makes anyone totally self-sufficient. Looking back now, Ryan wished he'd learned that a little earlier.
Among all those, there was one, only one person who, perhaps, will be willing to help him with that. And thinking about it...
"I am the sole center of all that happens to me."
Ryan closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.
"I never thought I would have to do something crazy like what I am about to make happen now someday." He thought to himself, swallowing his saliva and trying to calm the heavy pounding of his heart. That was taking on a big responsibility.
He started walking forward, just forward. Ryan ignored the noble and knightly glances, striding across the central red carpet as if he were someone important. Everyone commented on how he was being disrespectful and the like, but the young man pretended not to care.
He reached the center, and even rigid as a stone, forced the neck to turn and eyes to look to the left side, finding that person staring, certainly very confused. The boy gave her a soft smile, and after that...
"There is something happening in the Capital right now. A big problem. I will need help dealing with it."
AUTHOR NOTES
No big commentaries on the chapter. Yeah. Just that this is a liiiil bit longer than expected (as I ofently write no more than 6000 words per chapter). This is only slightly shorter when compared to the chapters of my webnovel (which range from 6.500 to even 12.000 words - with a few 20.000s, even!).
Hope you guys liked it! Have nice days.
(THE USELESS "PERSONAL LIFE REGULUS-LEVEL RANT" PART STARTS HERE. YOU MIGHT AS WELL IGNORE IT.)
But, changing topic, I must say that I'm not a fan of "brute-forcing" the way out. Even of you're a strong character that can surely do that, wit is also great, you know?
Strategizing, planning, using the environment... All of these things are stuff that I love. Defeating your foe both psychologically and morally before getting physical is just amazing! Seeing their fierce pose fall and the thought of "I'm rekt..." slowly creeping through their minds as they try their best to deny it and fight back.
But you know what I like the most?
Teamwork, guys.
The story is about teens with superpowers that start solving a lot of mysteries... And I mean A LOT of mysteries! And A LOT of fighting, too!
By the way, Arc 2 just began! (In PT-BR, I mean...) Gotta translate that quickly.
And in that story, I intentionally make it so that my characters hardly get anything by brute force or acting like "lone wolves". The Ryan from my Webnovel got between a rock and a hard place for a couple times for forgetting he has friends when dealing with danger.
... And that finishes my Regulus Rant!