Chương 79: 78-Dirge

After one more hour of plodding through the sewers, Jenna's powerful senses finally picked up a current of fresh air coming from the south.

"This way," she told the rest of her team.

"We are almost there. Once we reach the exit, it is only a 300-foot run towards the Black Tower."

"Won't the city watch stop us before we reach it?" asked Billy.

"To be honest, I would be very surprised if there were still a city watch left," answered Jenna.

"There—light ahead," she said, pointing toward a dim source of light—they had finally found the exit. The Losers ran toward it as if the exit could fly away. They were no more than twenty feet away from it when a slight figure appeared at the end of the tunnel, blocking the way out. Jenna immediately recognized herself. Her twinner was wearing a martial arts uniform, and her face was covered by a widow's veil.

"I would be lying if I said I was not expecting this," Jenna said.

"Will you let us pass?" she asked, knowing already what the answer would be.

"Our thoughts are just words, floating in our souls," the Widow said in Jenna's own voice.

"A pity about Charlie leaving," muttered Jenna.

"They could have exchanged one-liners."

"That was not a one-liner, Jenna," said Bob.

"That was a verse. She is reciting poetry."

"Whatever. Let's go through her," Jenna answered as she charged their foe. Jenna enhanced her Body, Dexterity, and Speed, summoned her elven sword, and tried to take her enemy by surprise. She aimed her weapon at the center of her chest—she was not going for half-measures. She almost made it. At the last possible instant, the Widow's body seemed to shrink away from the point of the sword, without moving. The weapon almost grazed her, missing for no more than one thousandth of an inch.

Jenna struck again, so fast that her sword made a whizzing sound as it cut through the air. The Widow made another almost impossible dodge—her economy of movement was such that after evading the blow, she was only inches away from Jenna, their faces almost touching. Jenna tried to headbutt her—she found herself flying through the air as her blow met no resistance. The Jade Cloud Style made the Widow the absolute mistress of fighting distance. The lack of resistance made Jenna somersault and fall on her back.

The Widow's foot fell upon her knee, inflicting a terrible blow and bending it backward. The lack of resistance made Jenna somersault and fall on her back. The Widow tried to stomp on her knee, but she reacted at the last moment, dodging the blow. Cracks crisscrossed the stone floor from the impact point.

"This one can rewrite reality," the Widow said, looking in wonder at Billy.

"Much better. That means I can kill you more than once." Jenna leaped up from the floor in a single and graceful movement and lunged again toward the Widow. Somehow, she knew her twinner was smiling under that veil. As Jenna unleashed her attack, she heard a tinkling sound: it was Bob's arcane die, rolling across the floor. It's a Small World (Gambling 3): Roll the Gambling Die: it will constrict space, making all distances within 10 feet of it one inch shorter.

The effect has a 1-in-10 chance of self-dispelling every second. Once dispelled, the perk ceases to be. Requires knowledge of a Waycraft perk of at least third rank. Suddenly, all distances changed—it was a small change, but it proved more than enough. Jenna's weapon grazed the left side of the Widow's face, leaving a deep wound and taking half her ear with it.

"Not bad," the Widow conceded." Souls without beginning, souls without end," she added. Then she changed styles. Her movements became less defined, less precise, but Jenna could feel her opponent's chakras and meridians light up like bulbs on a Christmas tree—whatever the Widow was doing, it was charging her body with life energy. Jenna tried to strike her as Bob cast Ice Spears at her. She dodged the attacks, not as effortlessly as she he while using the Jade Cloud style.

However, Jenna saw her wounds close in real time. After seven seconds of elegant dodging, the Widow was as good as new.

"Glorious Resplendent Crane Style, focused on recuperation and self-healing," the Widow told her.

"Tell me, Jenna: I know you can self-heal too, but can you do it while fighting three foes at once?" Jenna knew she could not. She would need to concentrate all her freebies on regeneration to achieve that kind of mastery—the Widow could slay her half a dozen times before she had time to heal. They had to change the game: she made a hand sign to Bob—coordinated attack. They would count on Billy for defense. Her Spirit enveloped Bob, enhancing his Body.

Jenna kept some of her freebie points in reserve as Bob adopted war-form and summoned his elven sword. They both lunged at the Widow at the same time—perhaps numbers would do the trick. Jenna and Bob released a deluge of sword techniques on the Widow, their swords hitting so fast that they flickered, becoming many blades at once. The Widow's relaxed movement changed again, becoming frantic and deceptive.

Each small step seemed to take her in several different directions at the same time; each technique could become a block, a strike, or one of multiple permutations of both.

"Echo of One Thousand Fists Style," she said while redirecting their attacks so effectively that Jenna and Bob had to defend against each other. The Widow laughed as Bob's sword opened a deep wound in Jenna's shoulder.

"That one taught you, didn't he?" the Widow asked Jenna, nodding toward Bob.

"How long did he train you for? One week? One day? Perhaps part of a day?" Jenna tried a savage backhand cut at the Widow's neck. The Widow hit the sword just in the right place, just at the right time, and Bob's head flew from his shoulders. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Jenna tried a savage backhand cut at the Widow's neck.

The Widow hit the sword just in the right place, just at the right time, but Bob managed to dodge the strike at the last instant.

"What did he tell you when you were finished?" the Widow went on." There is no more to teach. There is no more to learn. And you believed it."" All ends start with a beginning, all beginnings lead to an end," the Widow recited. The Widow's pattern of movement changed again, becoming a primal torrent of rage and ferocity. She became a blur of movement, her right hand making a clawing swipe towards Jenna's throat so fast that it whistled through the air. Jenna managed to avoid it at the last instant.

The Widow's claw struck the wall behind her instead, her four fingers gouging grooves so deep that they looked as though they had been carved by lasers.

"Crimson Tiger Style, one of my favorites," the Widow explained.

"I have been training with my enhanced attributes every day for years on end, mastering styles I created myself. Each is focused on a single tertiary stat. Some of those stats you have not even heard of."

"Have you any idea of the kind of discipline needed to live my life, to be who I am?" She turned toward Bob, ignoring Jenna. It was as if she had ceased to exist.

"You took everything from me. Everything. I am going to take everything from you, now." Jenna jumped on her back. The Widow's left foot shot backward and up, going through Jenna's chest as if it were a spear. The Widow's left foot shot backward and up, missing Jenna by inches. Bob made a hand sign Jenna recognized immediately: Celestial Exit. Bob created a Celestial Gate just behind the Widow. With the dimensional lock affecting Julta, it would transport her to a random spot in the city.

"It was a good plan," Jenna thought. At this point in the battle, they were just trying to survive. She launched herself at the Widow, trying to hit her in the chest with both soles at once. The Widow changed styles again. She became the center of the universe, the prime mover. She briefly touched Jenna just as Jenna was about to strike her, and the Primordial shot off in an impossible, curved trajectory, as if she were a moon orbiting a planet.

She struck Billy at an oblique angle, with such force that he was propelled through the Gate meant for the Widow.

"Billy, no!" shouted Jenna as she saw her boyfriend being transported to a random spot in the city. With Billy gone, the next death would be permanent.

"Celestial Prime Engine Style. Grants power over momentum. True power does not come from perks or magic, little Jenna. Those are for weaklings. It comes from stats. Be happy for Billy, little Jenna," the Widow told her.

"Billy is the only one of you three who is going to make it out alive. If only my husband had had that chance," the Widow said, her gaze lost in memory." Ending and beginning, round and round, two words, always paired…" she recited. Jenna's brain went into overdrive. By pulling Billy away from the fight, the Widow had removed their greatest tactical advantage. She tried to peer into the Widow's mystery.

It was not hard to see where their timelines had diverged: much like the Black General, she was based on the Jenna who had briefly transformed into a psychopath. Unlike that Essential, she had developed abilities Jenna had never possessed. Jenna gave herself an instant to think. What would her life have been like if she had never recovered from her bout with sociopathy? She would never have met Billy or Bob, that was for sure. Not as allies, at least.

Bob seemed to be some kind of enemy, someone who had taken a loved one from her. And that was part of the problem: Who could this cold-blooded mistress of death have loved so much? What could have happened to the Widow during the first months after activation? One thing was certain: she would have been hunted, psychopath or not. To the Coven, she would be first and foremost an abomination. Suddenly Jenna understood everything. Why Bob had killed her husband. The Widow's dedication to martial arts.

The type of man who could have inspired such affection in her.

"Oh, my God," Jenna said.

"You are Paul's widow. You married that beast."

"He was not a beast," the Widow said, smiling sadly.

"He was perfect in every way. He just wanted everyone and everything to be perfect, too. You never understood him. And now, the poem must come to an end." Bob suddenly looked alarmed. Jenna had seen that reaction before, when Gaze of the Eternal Warrior fed him tactical knowledge.

"The poem is a weapon, Jenna, the poem is a wea—" he began."... word on word, word against word, who knows which is which?" Suddenly, Jenna's thoughts were split by a guillotine of verses. She could see Bob being paralyzed, too. She tried to shift her freebies to resist, but the poem acted at a more fundamental cognitive level, blocking her access to her powers.

"Ponder the poem, little girl," the Widow told her sadly.

"You only have to find words without beginning or end—prove the poem wrong, and you will break free from it. But you won't." The Widow made a "V" with her index and middle fingers. She was going for her eyes. Paul had tried that on her once. Time seemed to slow as she saw her death coming. Words without beginning or end. She suddenly realized she did know such words. She had learned them in Belona. Learned them from herself, as a warning about the danger posed by Andara.

A dreadful little poem, created by her past self to be learned by her future self, caught forever in a time loop. With an effort of will, the words returned to her mind. And the tears of my love Not restrained now anymore Down my face they fall, my dear And through blurry eyes I seek Red with pain, and teary, Another day with you, just one Knavish lover though I am Not winning your trust and dying Oh, the sweet balm of death When you look at me no more Silently, I shall reclaim…

As the horrible poem surged through her mind, Jenna felt the words shackling her consciousness dissolve and be forgotten. Her hand caught the Widow's wrist just as the assassin was going to strike her.

"Paul loved this one. I am sure you will appreciate it too," she said as she pumped the Widow's spirit full of points. Psychopath -3 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Caring +3 Jenna knew then that she had won—Paul had been a monster; the alterations Jenna made to his mind only worked briefly, but the Widow was not a true psychopath. She was a psycho only because she had kept her Spirit low all these years. When Paul had discovered who he truly was, he had howled and cried in despair and horror.

The Widow did not even blink. Jenna realized then that her opponent was a mountain of willpower. She had hammered every weakness out of herself over the years through discipline and meditation. Nothing controlled her. Not fear, not guilt, not remorse. And now, not cruelty. The Widow and Jenna looked at each other for two seconds that seemed to last forever. Finally, the Widow spoke.

"Both of you, leave. Seek Billy, and help him. I will tie up the loose ends myself," she said. Jenna tried to say something, but the Widow cut her short.

"Go." Once alone, the Widow reflected on the lie most of her long life had been. She had renounced her friends, her life, and her compassion, but even at her most depraved, she had never renounced her honor. She did not allow herself even a moment of self-pity—that was for weaklings. She sat down in the lotus position, took a knife from the sheath at her belt, and prepared to perform a warrior's farewell. She allowed herself one little gift: famous last words.

"We are finally meeting again, my husband. In hell. Fear my coming."