In his path were Ratface and Brutus. A couple other guys had tried to get in his way but he dealt with them efficiently. He couldn't tell whether it was pure adrenaline or it was his increased stats that were at play now but even he knew he had leveled up. Far beyond what even he could imagine.
As Zafron advanced towards Brutus and Ratface, his face etched with rage and sheer intentions to kill whoever stands in his path, a menu appeared before his eyes:
[Skill successfully activated]
[...]
[Slime manipulation active]
With that, Zafron clenched his fist tighter and he began feeling a warmth spreading across his palm and fingers.
Ratface sneered, oblivious to the change. "Look at 'im, Brutus. Thinks he can scare us with a mean look."
But Brutus's eyes widened, his bravado faltering for a moment. "Uh, Ratface... you seein' what I'm seein'?"
A red, viscous substance began to form around Zafron's hand, growing more intense with each step. The slime pulsed and writhed, seemingly in tune with Zafron's mounting rage.
Cassandra, in the midst of fending off an attacker, glanced over her shoulder. Her jaw dropped at the sight.
"Is that....?" she asked herself, her voice a mix of confusion and awe.
'Zafron can control slime, just like me? Has he been hiding it from me all this while?' she wondered, her gaze drifting from Zafron's figure to the red slime oozing from his fist.
Ratface's eyes widened as he saw what was before him.
"Is that... slime? But....It's glowin' red!" His sneer morphed into a look of panic. "Brutus, maybe we should—"
But Brutus, trying to maintain control, bellowed, "Don't panic Ratface. We've got this covered. We can't let him get through at all cost."
Zafron's gaze remained fixed on Brutus and Ratface with no trace of emotions, his slime-covered fist clenched at his side.
Brutus, not really scared, struck first, lunging at Zafron with his blade aimed to cleave him from head to toe. With preternatural speed, Zafron sidestepped, his face emotionless as the blade sliced through empty air.
Brutus recovered quickly, pivoting to swing his weapon horizontally at Zafron's midsection. But Zafron's slime-encased hand shot out, catching the blade mid-swing.
Brutus' eyes widened in disbelief as he poured more energy into his weapon, causing it to glow with intensity. "What the... How is this slime as hard as rock?" he sputtered, struggling against Zafron's iron grip.
Before Brutus could react further, Zafron's free hand smashed into his face with bone-crushing force. The impact twisted Brutus' features grotesquely, sending him sprawling to the ground, his grip on the blade lost.
Dazed and disoriented, Brutus struggled to regain his footing. The side of his face that bore the brunt of Zafron's attack was a mess of contorted flesh and flowing blood, his vision swimming as he fought to stay conscious.
Seeing his comrade fall, Ratface leapt into action with a furious cry. As he sailed through the air towards Zafron, red slime erupted from Zafron's hands, ensnaring Ratface by the throat mid-leap.
Zafron's grip tightened mercilessly, Ratface's eyes bulging as he gasped for air. In desperation, Ratface's blade began to glow green, responding to its wielder's struggle.
But his attempts to swing the weapon were futile; his arm refused to obey, and the blade slipped from his grasp.
As the sword fell, it suddenly sprang to life, hurtling towards Zafron's chest with impossible speed. In an instant, a layer of rock-hard slime materialized over Zafron's torso, deflecting the enchanted blade harmlessly away.
Unfazed by the assault, Zafron intensified his chokehold on Ratface. His eyes, cold and unforgiving, bore into Ratface's increasingly desperate gaze. No words were exchanged; the silent, implacable pressure of Zafron's grip spoke volumes about his deadly intent.
Brutus, barely conscious, staggered to his feet in a desperate attempt to save his comrade from Zafron's deadly grip.
'These guys are just wasting my time. I need to get to Gustavo and the other guy these two mentioned are in charge before they reach Mara and Matilda,' Zafron thought, growing increasingly impatient.
Before Brutus could take two steps, Zafron's left hand swept through the air, unleashing a tidal wave of slime. The force was enough to uproot a tree, and it crashed into Brutus with devastating power.
His body was flung backwards, leaving a gruesome trail of blood across the ground and nearby foliage.
Ratface, still in Zafron's iron grip, opened his mouth to speak, but only blood poured out. His tongue lolled uselessly as more red liquid trickled down his chin.
With a sickening crack, Zafron crushed Ratface's windpipe and hurled his limp form at the mansion's entrance. The door splintered under the impact, swinging open to reveal the interior.
Zafron turned to see Cassandra battling the thugs behind him, her slime morphing into various forms as she wielded it with swift precision. 'Will she be okay?' he thought, his eyes clouded with concern, before he stepped into the building.
He strode purposefully into the building, his eyes scanning the chaos of overturned furniture and cracked walls. The silence that greeted him was unexpected. 'Has Gustavo already dealt with them? Or what else transpired here?' he pondered.
"Matilda! Mara! Where are you? Matilda....." Zafron called out, his voice echoing through the empty halls. His words trailed off as his gaze fell upon a crumpled form in a red gown, lying motionless on the floor.
Cautiously, he approached the body, his senses on high alert for any sign of movement or life. As he drew closer, recognition dawned – it was Malachi, lifeless in a pool of his own blood.
'Gustavo must have eliminated him,' Zafron thought, his jaw clenching. 'If that bastard has laid a finger on Mara or Matilda, I swear I'll string his corpse from the mansion's ramparts.'
Rage boiled within him as he bellowed, "Gustavo! I know you're here. Show yourself, you coward! Show yourself and let's finish what we started months ago at Astoria!"
Suddenly, he heard coughing from one end of the mansion, followed by some movement. 'That must be him!'
********
Meanwhile, inside a hidden chamber of Malachi's mansion, tension hung thick in the air.
Cordelia sat on the bed, her face buried in her hands, worry etched in every line of her body.
Matilda paced restlessly, her footsteps echoing in the confined space. 'What is happening out there? Malachi hasn't come back yet, and neither has Zafron. Hasn't he received our message?' Matilda wondered, the silence taking its toll on her.
Mara in the other hand, leaned against the wall, her eyes darting nervously towards the door.
Suddenly, Mara's head snapped up, her body tensing. "Did you hear that?" she whispered urgently.
Matilda paused mid-step, tilting her head. "Hear what? I didn't hear anything."
Mara shook her head, frustration creeping into her voice. "No, I'm certain I heard something. Listen!"
For a moment, silence reigned. Then, faintly, a sound drifted through the walls. Mara's eyes widened in recognition.
"That's Zafron's voice!" she exclaimed, pushing herself off the wall. "He's here! We need to get to him, bring him to safety!"
As Mara rushed towards the door, Matilda called out, her voice sharp with concern. "Mara, stop! That's madness! The battle's still raging out there!"
But Mara had already wrenched the door open, disappearing into the hallway beyond. Matilda's words echoed uselessly in the empty space she left behind.
Cordelia looked up, fear plain on her face. "Matilda, what do we do? We can't let her go out there alone!"
Matilda's jaw clenched, torn between the need for safety and the urge to protect her friend. "Damn it, Mara," she muttered. Then, turning to Cordelia, she said, "Stay here. Lock the door behind me. Don't open it for anyone but us, understand?"
Without waiting for a response, Matilda darted out after Mara, her heart pounding as she plunged into the unknown dangers lurking in the mansion's corridors.