Chapter 168 The Face of A Parent

Swallowing the mutilated limbs, the translucent-haired false humanoid held an uneven smile as if not knowing how to properly animate its face before slamming his palms together.

The gesture once more invoked a total shift in scenery as the rainforest decayed; grass dissipated to dust as trees rotted and leaves wilted, causing it to all be swept away by a breeze.

“Again…!?” Emilio said.

He looked back, finding Melisande was still safe, having to keep herself tucked away from the nightmare’s view.

Kintoki was more focused on his stricken companion, who he helped stand as Sumera held her head, groaning, “…Did I hit my head too hard or is the realm changing again?”

“It’s definitely changing,” Kintoki assured her.

What replaced the glimpse of nature was a vast platform of ivory material, suspended in the clouds that overlooked a desolate world, taken by darkness.

Once more, the form of the Unending Nightmare altered itself, losing its humanoid resemblance as the complexion of its skin became translucent, having glitter-like particles on its see-through skin as its colorful organs could be seen.

“Urg…” Emilio let out at the sight of the perplexing form of the entity.

The clouds took the shape of smiling, human faces, etched with intricate detail despite being made of fluffy clouds, spectating as the nightmare took the initiative.

“–Here it comes!” Kintoki said.

Of course, the muscle-bound Braveheart was the first to jump back into the mix, getting between the boy and the mage woman in order to block the incoming leap from the translucent nightmare.

Though as Kintoki used the width of his blade like a shield, expecting a physical blow, what came was a surprise as the nightmare instead held its palm forward, unleashing a shock wave of frost.

“Ghh–!” Kintoki winced.

It caused the golden-eyed man to stumble back before a layer of ice began to grow on his skin, attempting to freeze him in place as the nightmare successfully subverted his guard, attempting to finish him with a quick stab of its fingers.

“Watch out!”

A hefty amount of recklessness of his own was needed for Emilio to jump in front of the man, relying on his own swordplay to repel the unhuman, formless entity as it warped its body like clay to dodge the edge of his blade.

It seemed impossible to hit as when he went for a slash towards its side, it simply compressed its midriff, avoiding his sword altogether before countering with a wild thrust of its palm.

“–!” He prepared himself.

To his surprise, it was a fakeout; the nightmare jumped right past him and instead threw its palm towards Kintoki, who barely deflected it with his sword.

“What’s this thing’s weakness?!” Sumera said, “Roots of Nature!”

Attempting to bind the entity with roots aimed around its ankles while it clashed with Kintoki, Sumera’s spell was completely negated as though it caught onto the creature’s ankles, it simply reshaped its feet momentarily to escape them.

It seemed dead set on handling Kintoki first, which was a harrowing surprise to Emilio.

Does it know Kintoki is the biggest threat? He thought.

Just then, they all fell in shock as Melisande gasped as well, witnessing the nightmare contort its arm into a lengthy, whip-like extension, honing its own translucent skin into a fine edge before whipping it around, leaving an evisceration across the man’s chest.

“Argh…!” Kintoki let out, being knocked back by the visceral blow.

Blood sprayed out from the dreadful cut, resulting in Sumera desperately rushing over, lobbing wild, unrefined fireablls at the nightmare to force it back as she came to Kintoki’s side.

“Kintoki! Kintoki, are you alright?!” Sumera asked.

“Ngh…” Kintoki winced, sweating.

A quick look at the wound from Sumera’s experienced eyes brought a miserable reality as she realized something: the wound was bleeding much more than it should, and even when she applied pressure to it, the bleeding only seemed to grow stronger as the fountain of warm, crimson liquid poured.

He’s going to bleed out at this rate…! Sumera realized.

“Emilio, forgive me but I’ll need you to hold it off by yourself for a bit!” Sumera asked desperately, “I need to tend to Kintoki’s wound or he’ll die! I wouldn’t ask this of you, but…I don’t have any other options!”

Though it was seldom something he wanted to do–face the nightmare alone, that is–he was able to deduce that this was probably the only possibility in which they could win, or at least not lose guaranteed.

…We need Kintoki. I guess I have to step up, he thought.

“Alright!” Emilio agreed.

A surprised look came over the orange-haired woman’s face for just a moment as it softened up from its usual tense, proud look as tears lined her eyes, “…Thank you.”

Just as Sumera began utilizing her healing magic on Kintoki, the translucent humanoid rushed over to try and halt the process, but was intercepted as Emilio dashed in with a burst of wind, cutting it off from its intended destination with a slash of his sword.

“Not happening!” Emilio yelled.

Though a mistake was made in the heat of the moment: he accidentally looked into the empy eye sockets of the entity for not by a split-second.

That stifling sensation like a jolt of electricity coursing through his body was felt as though it had peered directly into not just his mind, but the core of his soul.

Again…?! Shit, what a newbie mistake! He lamented.

Without fail, the Unending Nightmare began to change its shape again, though sticking to a humanoid form as it grew black fabric around its body, honed into a light-green tunic with tactical gear.

The familiarity of the figure brought pause to Emilio as he saw the sight of the man with shaggy, black hair and a scruffy beard that was never properly shaven. It was more dreadful than ever when he saw that black-and-silver broadsword in the figure’s hand.

“Father…?” Emilio muttered in disbelief.

It was unmistakably the form of Julius, utilizing the natural, stalwart stance of the Mountain God Style that he’d suffered through experiencing time and time again through swordsmanship training.

There was a natural hesitancy on two fronts; on one hand, he was nervous, knowing all too well what kind of skill and strength his father possessed, but more than that, having to face one bearing the face of his parent in a life-or-death battle was a challenge on its own.

Of course, he knew it wasn’t Julius, but that didn’t stop the sight of his dearly missed parent from dulling his movements as the false Julius dashed towards him.

Here it comes! He thought.

Already forced on the backfoot, he held his blade up, blocking the overhead strike that slammed down, silver-to-silver. The amount of force behind the blow surprised him as he felt it ring through his bones like the chime of a bell.

This strength…! He thought.

Still, he gritted his teeth and honed his reinforcement, bolstering his physical capabilities as he managed to repel the false Julius’ attack, stepping in as he went for a counterattack.

“Good job, Emilio.”

Said with a warm smile across his lips, the compliment left the false father’s mouth as Emilio was midway through a swing towards his neck.

For just a moment, the black sclera possessed by the nightmare using the face of his father had changed to a normal white, bearing an unmistakable resemblance to his father more than ever.

Huh? He paused.

The parental patronage he yearned for, and the parent he missed spoke to him with the same level of affection the original Julius had, causing him to hesitate for a moment.

“Emilio! No! Don’t fall for it!” Melisande yelled out.

Though Melisande didn’t fully comprehend who it was that Emilio was facing off against, she could at least deduce that it was somebody the boy knew by the look in his eyes.

The warning from Melisande snapped him back into focus, but it was too late to follow through on his attack as a swift, but heavy blow came his way in the form of the Mountain God Style.

“Valley Carver.”

It was a sword technique he recognized; a horizontal slash meant to bisect foe’s even dressed in heavy armor. Knowing the power behind such an attack, he knew it wasn’t something he could risk blocking directly.

With a burst of wind, he unelegantly knocked himself to the side, avoiding the powerful blow as the wind pressure from the false Julius’ blade cut straight into the platform.

…I hate to admit it, but it’s copied him perfectly. I can tell; Father, you never missed an opportunity to try and drill swordsmanship into my body, he thought, no matter how inept I was for it at times, no matter how much I complained…You didn’t give up on me. That’s what I needed as ‘Ethan’–I needed somebody to push me; force me further even if it killed me.

Bringing himself to his feet, held his sword up, this time copying the impervious stance of the Mountain God Style, keeping his feet spread apart and his stance broad, holding his sword at a diagonal angle, ready to adapt to whatever came.

Maybe it’s fate, but I’ve found the perfect catalyst to hone what you taught me, Father, he thought.