Book Three – Chapter Twelve – Part Four – The Fleeting Touch of a Friend

It was an odd scene, to be sure. In the middle of the road sat a girl covered in flame. Her lungs had obviously been incinerated hundreds of times over, yet she still produced a horrible screech. The swords flying above never missed a chance to separate Servi’s body into bloody pieces. Nearby was a cat girl suspended in the air, who stared ahead with unwavering determination. Her blue eyes darted from tree to tree to rock to a disembodied head. The pink tail wrapped around her waist cause her great pain because it was stiff and gunky, but she powered through it.  

It was totally unnecessary, but Momo wanted to share the anguish while her best friend was enduring the worst pain in the world.  

But on that note, it was only the worst pain thus far.  

Grief was one of the emotions that carried the ability to be built up over a long period of time. When it did, it was stacked on top of itself and endlessly multiplied until it had a chance to escape, which was usually via a form of outburst.  

In Servi’s case, it took the form of killing herself in a series of horrible acts that progressively increased in brutality. It wasn’t long before pairs of hands and feet littered the space in front of Momo. They collectively joined the growing piles of heads, which themselves had formed a squelchy lake of crimson.  

After she had perished 8,618 times in forty minutes, during which the smell of ruined Human flesh had become so incredibly volatile that Momo had vomited so many times she had nothing left, it all stopped. Servi's screams had ceased. The heat from the flame engulfing her body faded away like taking a pot off of a stove. Once Momo heard the clanging sounds of weapons dropping to the ground, she thought the nightmare had finally come to an end.   

Her mouth spoke her friend’s name in a hoarse whisper. “Servy… Can you hear me?” she asked. Her body still faced away from the Human. She waited a moment longer and cleared her throat, this time asking with a voice that was a bit louder. Her voice felt scratchy, like nails being pushed against a stone floor.  

She received no response other than a single noise in the form of a weapon hitting the ground. Hearing the noise without seeing it brought uneasiness into Momo’s heart. It had already experienced enough terror and pain for ten lifetimes, but it seemed Servi’s grief hadn’t yet reached its final form. A cold chill tickled the Singi’s tail, forcing it to shiver. The odd feeling traveled up and Momo’s back until her teeth started to chatter.  

It was then that the weapon she had heard made an appearance. The two blue pulsing lines were to be expected since it seemed Servi had an unlimited amount of nadrium weaponry. The blade itself was only 25 centimeters long, and when measured as a whole, was only 39 centimeters in length. The growing river of scarlet goop and Human parts it sat on clashed violently with the sleek design. It was a weapon that didn't fit in with its surrounding location.

“Please, don’t do it anymore. Servi, you’ve suffered enough! There’s no need to do this anymore. Please… Servy…” Momo begged. She did all she could to plead, but even her hopes were dwarfed by a guilty conscience.  

The dagger took flight with invisible wings, soaring skyward with jarring cuts and ugly spurts of speed. After coming to a height of 150 meters, the blade came to a sudden halt and aimed itself downward. The sun’s brilliant rays gleamed off the pulsing lines, cascading in a glorious wave of light so bright that it seemed like the Gods had sent down a portion of their power. It looked like the kind of holy blade that would fell a demon king and his entourage.

Thick clouds, bursting at the seams with water, gathered unnaturally overhead in a matter of seconds. Static electricity filled the air, making it positively ripple with an shocking feel. The cold strands of Momo’s tail stuck up, giving it a frayed look. She cast a gaze upward and begged the Gods to help her friend. She cited that Servi had repented for the lives she had stolen many times over.

If Gods were patrolling the Heavens above, they didn’t answer. The mighty clouds combined into one that was larger and thicker, and rain started to fall. The speed at which the drops descended to the ground didn’t befit the already odd situation. It was gentle and caring, like washing a newborn babe with a towel twisted from unicorn hair. It was not at all what Momo thought would happen, which was why she breathed a sigh of relief.  

She had thought her selfless prayers had been answered.  

They weren’t.  

The floating dagger so high in the sky acted as a conduit. As for what would use it? 

Lightning: pure, unadulterated lightning in its purest form. The reason for it all was a skill called Judgmental Spite. It required the user to be Rank 1, and it was a continuous skill. For as long as Skill Energy was provided, it would transmute and become lightning, stored in the clouds that gathered at the skill’s behest.  

It was an odd skill, to be sure. It was definitely not one to be used in rapid succession, which was what Servi’s grief-stricken state had in mind. Back when she was a part of the Mafia, she glanced through her ID. Her red eyes scanned across Judgment Strike, and she noticed it was already learned. From where? She didn’t know at the time. Even now, she was still in the dark.  

Lightning exploded in the dark gray clouds as thunder rumbled, ravaging the area like a child throwing a tantrum. The beautiful sun and calming blue sky were nowhere to be seen.  

Momo didn’t know what exactly was going on, but she never stopped pleading with whatever force would listen to her. Momo shuddered as a giant chunk of rock protected her from the rain. She didn’t think it was fair for her to be shielded against the sudden rain while her friend became drenched.  

“She’s cold!!! She’s gonna get sick!!! Cover her! Don’t cover me!!” Momo cried out, but her words were drowned out by a thunderous noise.  

The sky flashed, brightening everything Momo saw to the point where she thought she was blinded. Next came a sharp crack, which sent chills of fear down Momo’s fragile state of mind. The very air tumbled in an anxious breeze, and the fallen leaves nearby scattered away from the fallen trees just from the pressure alone.  

Something was building up in the clouds high above the Human and Singi, and it was about to be unleashed.  

Finally, lightning struck the dagger. The weapon glowed yellow, but then another bolt energized it even more. Then another, and another, and another. In many ways, it similar to another Rank 1 skill. Judgment Spite needed a base weapon to hold the lightning just like Fulgur Spike needed an electric ability to charge it.  

Each crack of lightning sounded like the God of Judgment announcing his decree while banging his holy gavel.  

After a short pause, the skill activated, but not before a flash of light so powerful and intense that it scorched Servi’s retinas. It wasn’t a one-off side-effect, either. The dagger’s tip would continue to glow brighter than the sun. And Servi’s grief-controlled state had no choice but to endure such suffering. The newly-added source of pain only served to enhance her mournful wailing.  

A concentrated, brutal surge of lightning exploded from the nadrium dagger’s tip, bathing Servi in a cylindrical beam of electricity. With every passing second, tens of thousands of lightning bolts struck the earth, bouncing off the glowing walls and increasing their speed.  

Fortunately for Momo, the yellow barrier encasing Servi was a measly three meters in diameter, and she was about five meters away. It was impossible for lightning to spill over and assault her. But it wasn’t as if Momo was conscious. The Singi endured Servi’s vicious screaming as the Human purposely took her own life. Momo endured the hundreds of rolling heads and the awful stench of burnt flesh, but even as committed as she was, Momo couldn’t last until the end.  

The reason she suddenly went limp and lost consciousness was because of the noise Judgment Spite produced. The tens of thousands of lightning strikes did not come and go silently. They left their mark on the world via a scorched ground and a loud snap. Servi’s sorrowful screams couldn’t compare in the slightest. The wave of what could be described as an auditory apocalypse inflicted more damage on Momo because she was a Singi.  

Sensitive ears were both a blessing and a curse. A sturdy pair of earmuffs would have sufficed, but Momo wasn’t in any condition to make such preparations.  Itarr was there, of course, always watching and always staring at the present she wrought. She bolted into action, constantly healing Momo's ears and repairing the damage while she was unconscious. There wouldn't be any lasting pain, but she was going to have a slight headache when next she awoke.

For the next five minutes, Servi’s body was assaulted by 3,000,000 bolts of pure electricity. They came at such a rapid pace her physical essence was reduced to a pathetic puddle of flesh. While in such a state, any attack was strong enough to kill. Even a poke by a kitten would have been enough for Servi to be considered dead.  

While being the only witness, Itarr never once averted her head. She stared down the lightning as they illuminated the dim sights around her. Flashes of yellow clashed against the growing darkness by the gray clouds above. After two minutes, Itarr began to get worried. She believed Servi’s grief-stricken state would put a halt to the skill because she would have died far more than the number of lives she had stolen.  

But that wasn’t the case.  

The lightning would not stop for anything. Itarr tried to override the command, but she couldn’t control it. It was very possible for her to use new skills, which she demonstrated by summing a wall of Earth to block the lightning, but that only vaporized into dust when it touched the cylindrical beam covering Servi.  She even went so far as to use Metal Wall and Judas Shield, but neither could endure such a sustained barrage of lightning.

By the fourth minute, Itarr screamed and raged inside their soul for the Mad Dog to appear. She demanded it come out and put a stop to everything, but her desperate cries went unanswered, meaning it had nothing to do with what Servi was going through.

Itarr was alone, and alone she was. Her humanoid mass of red energy wandered through the vast crimson depths with a solemn expression. The once lush fields of melancholic grief had all but disappeared, which further meant Servi’s suffering should have been over.

Since it’s all gone, why is she still hurting herself?! She kept asking herself. Her mind riddled itself in an attempt to search her own lost memories for an answer, but she came up empty. 

And after a total of 300 seconds had passed since Judgment Spite’s activation, the dark clouds and sudden downpour faded away as quickly as they had amassed. The dagger being used as a conduit lost all of the energy it channeled and simply fell.  

Were it forged from any other material, the frightening power of electricity would have disintegrated it when all was said and done.  

Aided by gravity, the dagger dropped in a nearly straight line while Servi’s body regenerated. When her chest had reformed, the weapon reached terminal velocity and impaled her heart, digging all the way to the hilt.   

The sun emerged through the bleak atmosphere, shining a much-needed light on the aftermath of forty-five minutes of hell. It illuminated the deep scorch marks surrounding Servi’s naked body. The ground had liquified and turned bright red, emitting tremendous heat that escaped into the atmosphere. A portion of Servi’s back had been regenerated within that molten lump of rock, fusing to it and giving her a horrid appearance.  

The dagger’s blue pulsing lines reflected a bit of light upward, which happened to glare off of the soaked green leaves. Light refracted and bounced from water droplet to water droplet, creating a sparkling sight of rainbows. It gave the embedded blade a feeling of it being something holy, like a blade made from the blood of a Goddess, and it was currently sealing away a Demonic Lord of Destruction.  

Itarr wordlessly took the sight around her and cried tears of relief since it looked like Servi’s atonement had stopped. She quickly did all she could to absorb the portion of hardened rock that had fused and become a part of her beloved Human. During that, she did all she could to make the land surrounding Servi walkable.  

I love you, Servi. She said those words over and over, letting her final sorrows echo out for what she thought would be the last time. Her expert touch hastily cleansed Servi’s body from the rain, rock, and dust besmirching it. Then she did the same for the air-borne Singi. Her dripping hair and tail dried within moments as the water was whisked away. As an added bonus, Itarr cleaned the dirt and grime. That gave Momo's pink hair a shine and her tail the flexibility it once had.  

As harrowing as Judgment Spite was in terms of single-target damage, the rain that accompanied it couldn’t have been more different. Each drip was pleasant, carrying simple water to moisten the ground with nourishment. Perhaps it was the skill’s way of apologizing for the sheer damage it caused? It was asinine to think a technique could hold such mortal-like traits of regret and atonement, yet the mortal world often assigned emotional characteristics to inanimate objects.  

After drying Momo’s armor, clothes, and skin, Itarr gently lowered the unconscious Singi as if she were a jewel. Her soft hands became dirtied with round pebbles and rocks. Her tear-stained cheeks slowly rubbed against the ground. The discomfort was there, and Itarr hoped Momo would forgive her. As an added bonus for both the Singi’s and Goddess’s sanity, the area around them was clean of any blood and body parts resulting from Servi’s self-inflicted punishment. Though it wasn’t spotless, there were a few spots farther away than Absorption’s range. Itarr had done her best to return nature to how it was before.  Right after that, she clothed Servi so she wouldn't be naked.

Fortunately for the Goddess, when Momo returned to the world of consciousness, her own well-being was the last thing on her mind. Her blue eyes blinked twice, evicting any dust and noticing the lack of disembodied heads. The nostrils then took a deep whiff, filling her with an odd scent made up of burnt flesh and rain. Her mind kicked into overdrive, reminding the Singi of everything that had happened.  

She quickly stood up, ignoring the pointy rocks pressing into her palms, and turned around so fast her hair smacked her cheek. But she didn’t feel that. More accurately, she couldn’t feel a single thing after laying eyes on the unmoving body of her best friend.  

“Servy!!!” she cried as she dashed ahead, covering the few meters in an instant. Moving as quickly as she did was far too much for her weakened body, and her legs gave out. Sliding the rest of the way on a carpet of gravel, Momo finally reached her beloved friend.

A pair of hands examined Servi’s legs, arms, and the rest of her exposed skin for any wounds. Momo sighed upon finding nothing, but her eyes were quickly drawn to the dagger. A little bit of blood spurted out every so often, a side effect of True Immortality creating a never-ending stream of crimson. As long as the knife remained lodged in her chest, the wound wouldn’t fully shut. And as Momo glanced at it with a pair of shaking eyes, she pondered on what to do.  

She thought obvious thing was to remove it, which was why she gently gripped it. Her nervousness shook her arm, causing the blade to scrape downward and making another wound. The poor Singi shouted, cursing herself for making it worse.  

“I need to do this! Grampy said to always put pressure on a cut. Come on, Momo! COME ON!!!” With a ferocious shout, the Singi centralized her courage within her shaky limbs, calming her arm just long enough to rip the nadrium dagger out. In the same rocky motion, she sliced off a few scraps of leather from her pants and pressed them against Servi’s already healed wound.  

Momo would become aware of that fact a few seconds later when she realized the blood had already stopped flowing. She slowly moved the leather away from Servi’s chest, peeking at the closed injury with wonder.  

“Servy, you’re incredible… But there’s no time to lose. I gotta move her,” Momo whispered. In her weakened state, she knew it was impossible to lift her best friend, but she attempted to do so anyway. Her arms and legs were far slimmer than they were eight days ago. The strength she lost would take some time to come back. Her face became strained as she wrapped her arms under Servi’s chest. With careful steps powered by heavy breaths, Momo slowly walked backwards. 

“I’m sorry, Servy. I ain't got no choice but to drag you like you. I’m too weak to properly pick you up…” Words flowed from Momo’s mouth as she did her best to make it painless. However, the rocks and little pieces of gravel made that impossible. Servi’s legs from the knee down did not suffer any scratches or wounds, but the Singi didn't know that. Momo said a silent apology for each one she thought was there, vowing to properly make it up.  

“It doesn’t matter that they’re healed quicker than they appear. It still has to hurt… Servy… It seems like I’m always causing you trouble. And you’re always getting hurt around me…” Momo cried, sending salty tears down her well-soaked cheeks. They splashed down onto Servi’s face, which held a calming expression. Her pink lips were very slightly pursed, allowing un-needed oxygen to enter her lungs, filling them to the brim with the one thing nearly every living thing needed. That air came out when her lungs deflated.  

The Singi pulling Servi smiled at the subtle movements of respiration. “Hold on, Servy. I’m almost there.” 

Momo’s destination was a calm shaded spot about 50 meters away. Ten of those meters were off the beaten path behind a tree. As far as she could tell, the ground was dry. It wasn’t a victim of the sudden Judgment Spite. And the fluffy green grass had to be warm because the trees above had small gaps that allowed the sun to come down. It took Momo three minutes of constant pulling, but she made it without stopping to catch her breath.  

She crouched down and moved her arms from around Servi’s chest to her head, supporting it gently while it laid on the bed of green. Momo’s hand fanned the grass, throwing away any pesky rocks and other unwanted obstacles. Her blue eyes looked back to the brutalized spot. She didn’t know how long it would take for the ground to return to normal.  

Suddenly, Momo yawned and sleepily rubbed her tired eyes. Exhaustion rapidly assaulted her inner defenses, overtaking her somewhat fragile state of mind. She looked to the left and right down the gravel road and turned her head back to Servi, realizing that her slender arms and legs were completely void of any injuries. Her face looked so peaceful and at ease, and the Singi couldn't help but crack a small smile. Without hesitating, Momo laid down right beside Servi and gently cupped her friend's right hand. Ten fingers massaged every bit of skin available to them as Momo sent her friendship barreling through her touch.  

Or she tried to, anyways.  

The warm grass tickled her furry ears. A flexible tail swooshed to life and snaked through the sea of green like a pig would roll in a mud pit. The smell of nature filtered out the stench of burnt flesh for good, allowing her nostrils to take in what she thought ‘calmness’ smelled like.  

It’s not the first time I’ve held her hand like this, but it feels different. But it’s not a bad difference. I hope you have a nice nap, Servy. I’m just gonna rest for a second or two. After that, I’ll take you back to Canary, and we can forget all about this dumb quest and town. We won’t have to worry about anything there. We’ll be safe, and I won’t ever leave you. I won’t make that mistake again. You’re my best friend, Servy. That’s why I’m gonna hold your hand. Just give my hand a squeeze, and I’ll squeeze it right back to show I’m here. I’ll wish and wish with all my heart that you'll wake up soon.