My Servant System

1273  Chapter 1272: Emerging 'Victorious'

As had become custom by this point time lost its meaning to us, though with how recent events had been I had lost my understanding of time and what I should even think of it, so this was of no consequence to me as I just killed and killed until eventually there wasn't anything to kill anymore.

These were two armies that were clearly at odds with one another over everything that they possibly could be besides having an overwhelming hatred for something - in that they shared far more in common than anyone else could ever manage - and somehow we were supposed to figure out how to deal with them and figure out some kind of solution to this 'trial'.

It was easy to classify them differently since the Purists operated with brutality and power in mind, using a hammer to solve every possible problem they had instead of changing the tool for the current job; they threw simple yet overly strengthened spells at us before switching to their rigid, heavy weapons to attempt to beat us into the sands below.

That System of mine that constantly worked in the background had received a gigantic influx of experience that filled me with more power, though for the time being I wasn't really able to use it since I was so damn tired... but for future me that was perfect, especially since that experience came with Shop Points as well.

As more and more soldiers drew closer I switched my focus from spell casting to physical combat as I slashed and cut at anyone who got too close while also occasionally bashing the skull in of any who seemed to deserve it more than the others.

The moment we emerged from the sea of warring armies we instantly began to flee from the combat and towards the safety of the empty desert, where we could rest, recuperate and understand what the hell was going on.

We had only been here for a few days and already I was completely exhausted and wondering whether or not the 'prize' would be worth it, but at the same time the prize I was already acquiring was very much worth it.

Leone's Estoc, Anput's heavy war spear, Mom's Claymore and my Falcata and War Pick combo all were caked in gore as we got to work killing anyone who got close to us, be they from the 'Purists' or the 'Combiners' as I had begun to mentally view them as.

A single solo trial could become my perfect excuse to splurge on rare and impossibly powerful things for everyone, especially if the people we were seeing were as advanced as they seemed to be; for now though I just fought to maintain consciousness, since my everything was ablaze with sharp, mind numbing agony.

Soon enough the magic barely held the soldiers at bay, and we were forced to pull out our melee weapons and get to work up close and personal, using magic as a secondary force to repel them and instead relying on the brutality of close quarters combat.

For now though we needed to leave this section of the desert behind, and as the freezing night began to claw its way over the desert sands as the sun fell we were being placed into one hell of a predicament that we had only a single answer to: kill every and anything in our sight and pray to any God or Goddess out there that we would emerge from this battle alive.

Sometimes that resulted in a particularly messy kill, but more often than not it just meant that I was dodging any swings and reciprocating with a swift severance of that limb before ending their current lease on life, bringing down the overall numbers of these armies by one every few seconds.

The difference between the Falcata's elegance and the War Pick's brutality was quite contrasting and impressive, and yet I sadly had little opportunity to appreciate it as I was instead focused entirely on just surviving, which currently meant killing for the sake of survival instead of killing because I liked it.

All of the blood was still pretty, and I loved the way some of these idiots screamed when they caught the blunt side of the War Pick in the center of their chest or when their limb fell to the ground uselessly, but more of me was focused on killing as quickly as I possibly could.

And yet the moment their blood splashed across the sands it was immediately absorbed and added to the land that they were allowed to step upon, spreading the domain they had created and providing a very clear reason to not remain anywhere near them for the time being.

The 'lucky' few were actually the only ones to provide us with any clue at all on what was happening, and that was thanks to them literally exploding upon stepping on sand that wasn't dyed red with their blood; the mana inside of them simply burst free from their Core and tore their bodies apart.

Meanwhile the Combiners were taking a far more balanced and fluid approach in their attempts to kill us, ranging from complex and nuanced spells that forced Leone and I to think quickly to defend against them to the more graceful and stylistic fighting style they took when they joined the fray up close.

That meant slit throats, bashed faces and destroyed torsos as I went for direct kills, and as such I left a trail of bodies in my wake as we began to move through the sea of former and future corpses in search of safety, reining in our magic and blending in a little as we reduced the aggression shown towards us with that simple act.

So we fled, rushing over the sands and using as much of our remaining strength as possible before collapsing on the cool sands an hour or so later, bathing beneath the moonlight and giving our bodies a much needed break, one that it demanded and then some from each of us.

Both of the armies weren't keen to let anyone escape though, and upon seeing us fleeing from their blood swathe of land they attempted to give chase, only to get stabbed or shot in the back whenever they tried to leave in turn.

Quickly it became methodical in nature, each swing of my arms or twisting of my body being done not by conscious thought but by instincts alone as I switched to autopilot, working entirely off of how everything felt instead of what I should be doing.

Whew~