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Chapter 157: Hands of Shadow

The three hands hovered around Dimitria like a pack of obedient hounds, restrained by some invisible leashes. Their massive, shifting forms coiled and uncoiled with a slow, almost lazy menace, as though they were waiting for the slightest flick of their mistress’s will before lunging forward to tear apart whatever she pointed them at.

They were not the product of a spell, of that Viktor was quite certain. For one, he had never heard of anything like this. For another, Dimitria was a pyromancer. She shouldn’t have the ability to command darkness.

A Reliquary, then.

An artifact that allowed the woman to summon her little pets.

That was when he noticed it. A ring, resting on her long finger, glinting faintly whenever she shifted her hand.

Was it the one?

He narrowed his eyes. Had it been there all along? Had he overlooked it until now? Or had she kept it concealed, waiting for the right moment to reveal her secret trump card?

Well, those were questions for later. He would inspect the ring at his leisure after he took it away from the cold, lifeless finger it would soon adorn no longer. But he had to win the fight first. And they were coming.

The first hand shot forward, a writhing claw of pure black. He twisted his body and slid just out of reach as the thing passed, its elongated fingers brushing the edge of his sleeve. For a fraction of a second, the world seemed to tilt as a sudden wave of nausea rolled through his stomach.

Is that... part of the attack?

He didn’t have time to dwell on that thought, however.

The second hand came, surging forward in a horizontal sweep with terrifying intent, claws spread wide like a fan of darkness ready to envelop him completely and crush him within its grasp. He snapped his body upward, wind gems roaring as he kicked off the air itself, narrowly escaping the closing fingers.

Once again, vertigo hit him, sharper this time.

Now he was certain. These hands were not just dangerous physically; they also carried a corrosive, disorienting effect on his senses whenever they came close enough.

But... the first strike, the one when he was still wrapped in his dark veil, hadn’t had such an effect.

Perhaps, the shroud had somehow absorbed or blocked whatever curse effect the shadows carried, and it was shredded in his place. Damn. If mere proximity was enough to make him feel sick, he didn’t want to imagine being touched, let alone being trapped in their grip.

The third hand swung in. This time, instead of dodging, he spun and drew his rapier in one radiant arc. The blade of light sliced through the air, cleaving the black mass. And the instant the luminous edge struck, the shadowy hand shredded, dissipating like smoke caught in a sudden gust of wind.

Oh?

On the other hand, the glow of the rapier dimmed sharply. Looked like the energy that fueled the blade had been drained far more quickly than usual.

It seemed, when light and dark collided, they canceled each other out. Thus, even though he had managed to destroy the hand, his own weapon had taken a heavy toll, its strength greatly diminished. So yes, the weapon was effective, but it came at a cost. And in a fight that would demand repeated strikes, where those hands of shadow could come at him again and again, the need to recharge his blade put him at a disadvantage.

Viktor pivoted, readying himself for the remaining hands, only to find them hovering back at Dimitria’s side. She was staring at his blade, doubt and concern flickering across her face.

Ah, she’s rattled. Seeing one of her precious pets shredded so easily must have shaken her. So she ordered the rest to fall back. That was a mistake, though. She should have pressed her advantage, sending those hands forward to attack him relentlessly, and his glowing stick would have burned out before he could fend them all off.

Instead, she had stepped back and given him room to breathe, and he was not going to complain. He returned the rapier to its sheath, its power quietly recharging.

The Ettin lumbered to his side. “Let me help you, Master.”

“No,” Viktor said. “You stay back.”

Mighty as it was, he doubted it could help much against these hands of shadow, even when it was at its full strength. And now, after taking numerous injuries in the previous battle, it had become even less reliable, and could even turn into a liability.

“Why did it call you Master?” Dimitria’s voice cut across the chamber, her tone a mix of curiosity and disbelief. “Who the hell are you?”

Viktor didn’t bother to answer. He turned his thoughts to the question of what to do next. It looked like the woman wasn’t in any hurry to attack again. Instead, she took her time to conjure more hands. She was waiting for their numbers to swell, and would only strike when she had enough to overwhelm him.

That was not a bad strategy, actually. If a dozen hands attacked him at the same time, he would struggle to keep up. The blade of light could cut down one or two at best, while the chamber’s low ceilings had made evasive maneuvers difficult.

Well, it was not like light was the only thing that could disrupt shadow. Fire could do the trick as well. After all, Spiky Head—who Dimitria had called Xander—had once launched a crescent of flame at Viktor from his burning sword. The projectile had grazed him, and destabilized the dark veil for a brief moment. A direct hit, and the shroud would have been torn apart completely.

Acting on that insight, he raised a hand, letting the fire gems flare to life and hurled several fiery globes at the shadowy appendages.

Before they could reach their targets, however, Dimitria had made her move. A casual flick of her left hand, and the fireballs were swept aside, spinning off their courses before smashing into the chamber’s walls with a shower of sparks.

Well, of course that was not going to work against a pyromancer. Not when what he had at his disposal was little more than an elementary spell. Even so, the experiment had its merits. The fact that Dimitria had to protect those hands was proof enough that they were indeed vulnerable to fire.

[Should I send Galatea there to aid you, Master?]

That was not a bad idea. Galatea’s affinity for light magic would be very useful in a situation like this. In her armored form, she could use her warhammer, imbued with her magic, to smash everything into glowing wreckage. In her projection form, she was so damn shiny that those hands would die instantly just by looking at her. Still, he had another idea he wanted to try first.

Not yet, he told his Dungeon Core. I’ll tell you when I need help.

[Understood.]

And so, Viktor turned inward. Even as his eyes remained fixed on Dimitria and the shadows she conjured thanks to the power of her ring, his mind was focused on something else entirely. A Thauma, of course.

When he finished crafting, there were now ten hands of shadow around the woman, twisting and lashing, hungry for blood.

“Die, brat!” Dimitria shouted, her hand snapping forward to fling all of them at him in a single, coordinated assault. The hands obeyed their mistress’s command, converging upon him from every direction. From above, from below, from the sides. A closing cage of darkness that offered no escape.

Viktor did not evade.

Instead, he commanded his wind gems to roar, summoning bursts of force to propel himself straight into his opponent.

The hands slammed into him—

—and they passed right through.

Because he had activated the Thauma he just made.

Phase Through Darkness.

It was wrought from the remaining Sigil of Phasing and two Sigils of Maintaining, and it functioned exactly as its name promised. Just as the other versions that had allowed him to move effortlessly through air or solid earth, this one let him phase through those monstrous limbs without any impediment, unharmed and unhindered.

“What—!?” Dimitria’s voice broke into a strangled gasp, her eyes widening in shock as she witnessed something that should be impossible: her opponent had ignored her deadly attacks like they were nothing, and closed the distance between them in a heartbeat. And, before she could even comprehend it, the blade of light flared from its sheath, cutting across her neck in a flash of radiance.

Viktor halted behind her. With a slow, almost ceremonious motion, he returned the rapier to its scabbard. Then, he turned around, and saw that all the shadowy hands, those monstrous extensions of darkness that had threatened to overwhelm him moments ago, were gone, vanished as if they had never been there to begin with.

The space was empty, save for the woman who now stood frozen. A single line of red streaked across her throat, and a tear welled in the corner of her eye.

“No... This can’t happen...” Her voice trembled. “I... can’t die like this...”

“We’ve had quite an eventful encounter today,” Viktor said. “I’ve learned a lot, thanks to you. You have my gratitude, lady.”

He gave a bow as the head fell from her shoulders. The rest of her body followed a moment later, collapsing onto the cold stone floor.

Looking down at his fallen opponent, Viktor drew a breath as he brushed the sweat off his forehead with the back of his sleeve.

“That was amazing,” the Ettin’s middle head exclaimed. “I can’t believe you could’ve pulled off something like that.”

The right head bellowed. “YOU KILLED HER DEAD, MASTER!”

“Scary...” the left head murmured. “I hope... we’ll never be on your bad side...”

Viktor chuckled. “It’s nothing but a simple trick.”

Well, to be honest, the whole thing was actually quite risky.

Even though he had been certain he could physically pass through the hands thanks to his Thauma, the curse attached to them was a entirely different matter. Charging straight into those shadows could very well have been a fatal mistake.

Of course, it was not like he didn’t have any safeguards. He was still under the protection of “Rekindled Ember,” after all. And that was exactly why he had chosen to go ahead with the plan; he had a fallback even if things went wrong.

In the end, he had won, and that was all that mattered. Now came the next step: collecting the loot.

He approached Dimitria’s corpse. His gaze settled on her right hand, the hand that had once wielded shadows like extensions of her own will.

And he saw nothing there.

The ring.

It was gone.