Chapter 264 – Unforgiven (V)

Chapter 264

Unforgiven (V)

Long Tao’s gaze was hollow–there was neither anger nor pity contained therein, as though wind had swept all his emotions away.

The beast struggled, roaring and growling and whimpering, all while the wounds began to stack. For all his prowess, this was actually the best he could do at the moment–even if fallen and at the cusp of dying, it was originally a quasi-Divine Chimera. Though all its Innate Divinity had long since been sapped, its mind likely recalled the sensation nonetheless.

How many of the maligned monstrosities like this had he killed during the hunt? Millions, at the very least, he wagered. There once was a time when seeing them made him angry, though he could seldom remember those days at this point.

He dodged yet another swipe of the paw, ducking underneath it and swinging the blade upward and over in a singular motion, opening up yet another shallow wound.

What angered him now was just how weak he was–not a year ago, he had the ability to end the concept of time itself with the swing of his sword, and he was now struggling to just barely create a flesh wound on some malformed creature that was one breath away from dying regardless.

Here and there, he’d glance over at the odd Master of his, though the man never showed much of a reaction; Long Tao suspected that the man knew, at least broadly, that he’d reincarnated. However, he’d still been underestimating him, for one reason or another.

This was supposed to be a show of force, but…

He couldn’t help but sigh, turning his attention back to the creature.

There were many, many, throughout history who played with the concept of chimeras–creating a perfect thing from two flawed ones. Or three. Or fifty, in some cases.

There had never been a success, not really; the most successful Chimera, by his estimates, had to have been that quarter bull, quarter dragonfly, quarter serpent, and quarter human thing that managed to endure six strikes of his before capitulating.

But ‘success’ wasn’t really the right word; that thing was in as much pain as this here one was. They weren’t alive; they were merely… existing, and doing so against their wills.

None could ever speak, yet Long Tao knew they could understand. They could think. They could feel.

Which always made Long Tao wonder–why did they all struggle? Why did they all fight until their last breath? Perhaps the instinct to survive was so overwhelming that even the bone-boring pain wasn’t enough to dissuade one from trying to live?

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He dodged yet another tail swipe, rolling sideways in the air and cutting with the sword, managing to draw a bit of blood. It yelped yet again, retreating for a moment and staring at him with those eyes–there were thoughts behind them, though how many and what kind, he couldn’t tell.