Reborn As An Evolving Monster

The Guardian, now forced to primarily rely on its hearing, couldn't miss Mark's loud and heavy footsteps.

It turned to face in his direction hurriedly.

[The Skill "Berserker[SSS] activates!]

[Your Endurance Stat temporarily increases by 60%.]

[Your Agility Stat temporarily increases by 30%]

[Your Strength Stat temporarily increases by 20%.]

[Additional Effect:

Your Strength and Agility Stats will further increase proportionally to the amount of Damage Incurred.]

A terrible smile was drawn on the Guardian's face.

"Kill... Them... All!" It whispered before slowly raising its remaining hand.

Mark approached as quickly as he could.

The decapitated head that the Boss Monster held blinked.

The next second, a dark Aura emanated from its crying eyes.

Those crying eyes, had been cursed.

For a long time, they were forced to bare that curse.

And now, the time for retaliation had come.

The cursed eyes took it upon themselves to let their curse be known, and to share with anything they could find.

But before they could, something suddenly appeared between the Mark and the Guardian.

"Sorry but..."

Dark Magic.

Its polar opposite and biggest weakness or counter, is, as one might expect, Light Magic.

"I can't..."

Unfortunately, the Magic Type that resembles Light Magic the most, is Holy Magic.

An unfortunate fact that might explain why none inside the Boss Room could use either Magic Types.

Holy Magic isn't a Magic Type that can be wielded by Monsters.

Therefore, expecting Monsters to use Light Magic would be extremely unreasonable, if not absurd or foolish.

Still, all wasn't lost.

The thing that had imposed itself between Mark and the Guardian's hateful dark eyes was neither Light nor Holy Magic.

It was the next best thing though.

It wasn't Light Magic.

All the same, it produced Light.

The Magic Type that shines brightest after Light Magic.

"Let Death take him just yet!"

The fingers of his right hand touched those of his left.

The heels of his hands were connected.

The sphere of flames between the Fire Spirit's palms had been condensed to the absolute limit.

Mark instinctively reacted by lowering his body and upping his pace.

The Fire Spirit's fingers moved ever so slightly.

Distance between those fingers.

A narrow space.

A narrow escape route, for all the contained energy to take.

"Take this, ugly fuck."

A beam of energy?

Some kind of laser beam?

The attack had no name yet.

It wasn't even clear what the attack was exactly.

And none inside the Boss Room even took a second to think about that.

The Aura in front of the dreadful eyes turned into tiny spheres of energy a centimeter away from those eyes.

Dark rays with nonsensical and absurd speed.

The dark rays and the Fire Spirit's beam collided.

After shooting his attack, slight surprise, joy, and pride had momentarily overtaken the Fire Spirit.

The speed with which his condensed flames moved was amazing.

The Fire Spirit knew that better than anyone.

Yet, he couldn't help but smile nervously.

His attack had been shot first. There was no denying that fact.

But even though he had shot first, the collision between the attacks had only taken place after the dark rays had crossed about three-fifths of the distance separating the two Casters.

By this time, Mark was still behind the Fire Spirit.

Unlike most, if not every, collision between two different Magic Skills that, both Mark and the Fire Spirit, had ever witnessed, there was no explosion.

Not an ounce of force generated by both attacks coming into contact.

No shockwave, no outburst of energy.

Not a hint of damage was inflicted upon the area surrounding the point of impact.

There was no great surge of either light or sound.

Not a spark, and not a crack.

Not even a weak and faint boom.

That was too much to ask.

Way too much.

The reaction was completely different from the one generated by the collision between the Fire Spirit and Elisa's Magic Attacks.

A silent collision.

Quiet.

Hushed.

The noise and energy that the Fire Spirit's flames desperately wanted to let the world feel through the different senses had been repressed.

Subdued.

Stolen.

And the Fire Spirit hated that with all his heart.

A feeling of disgust filled him, as the distance between the dark converging rays and himself started slowly shrinking.

He, just like Mark, had come to understand Dark Magic with his gut.

The Guardian's attack didn't have more energy.

It didn't overpower his attack.

No.

That wasn't the reason why his Fire was losing to that, seemingly, infinite darkness.

Dark Magic simply, and unfairly, made things disappear.

No force, effort, or violence was needed or necessary.

Once covered by that darkness, once within that darkness, once englobed by it, anything and everything would disappear.

At least, that was the Fire Spirit's understanding.

It was entirely possible for his understanding to be wrong, whether completely or partly.

But how could it be?

How could he be wrong?

His flames weren't being overpowered. They weren't being extinguished.

It was more like... They were dissolving. Vanishing.

The Spirit could tell, because he was the one to have given birth to those flames.

His flames were being made to disintegrate.

The Spirit could tell, because he was once with those flames.

He was a Fire Spirit.

He was his flames, and they were him.

The distance between himself and those dark rays shrunk and shrunk.

Right in front of the Fire Spirit, his flames were being stolen.

No.

More precisely...

'Maybe I was wrong...' The Fire Spirit thought to himself.

He let out a weak chuckle.

The rays were centimeters away.

The Fire Spirit had bought all the time he could.

And he was not about to let himself get stolen.

He was not about to let himself get swallowed by that infinite darkness.

He was not about to let himself get devoured by it.

'Darkness... Might be the greediest after all...'

Before those rays could reach him, the Fire Spirit disappeared.

For a moment, he was reminded of Mark.