Chapter 407

Enhancement technique. Arthur guessed that was what it was, that caused Tun Rahman's ghost to grow more powerful. A berserk technique of some form, for over the next few clashes, his opponent came at him faster and more aggressive than ever. Berserk techniques weren't all insane, frothing techniques that took away thought and consideration. Instead, they were so named because of the way they empowered an individual - but at a cost, later on.

Most generally allowed the user to keep their mind and focus, though the most powerful took even that. However, there was always a cost, most empowering an individual for a short time frame and leveraging greater weakness afterwards. Some even did damage to the body, forcing the body to tear itself apart in an attempt to keep up.

Arthur's own boosting technique was no berserk technique, just a simple buffing one. Where he might increase his Body by four or maybe even five points, it was a regular, smooth increase. A berserk technique at the minimum increased Body by five, and with practise or just better techniques could even double that number.

Weapon, sliding along the edges, a flurry of cuts. Some opening wounds along his face, along his chest and upper arm, stabs that pierced or left long streaks of blood along technique enhanced skin. Gratitude running through him, as he found the attacks only doing superficial damage for the most part, reinforced body giving him an advantage.

For his opponent was taking damage too, significant amounts. Not a trade of blows, because Arthur wanted to survive and a ghost- a berserk ghost - didn't. Recollection and training guiding his attacks, as he fought defensively.

"How do we fight someone stronger than us?" One of his juniors, asking that question.

Mimicking his own Tsifu, he stepped forward. Two fingers, touching spots on the neck, the arm, the elbow, the wrist, just above the knee. "Then, you take away their ability to fight. Remember, tendons and ligaments connect muscles and bones. Take them away, doesn't matter how strong they are - they can't use that limb. Dismantle, rather than kill."

It worked just as well against a Berserker.

Slice along the approaching hand on the inside when it came through in a stab. Rising slice on the inside, then twist your hand around, cutting down as you finished the ribbon, aiming at the inside of the elbow. Tendons and ligaments parting, even as you fell back, away from the attack. 

Angle to the side, watch as the ghost catches the weapon it drops from nerveless fingers. Duck low, cut sideways, behind the leg. Hamstring, torn a little, protected by long pants and bad angles. Later. He'd deal with it later, with a cut kick or roundhouse, put it all under pressure.

Tear it open.

Slice along the neck, tear at the muscles holding the neck aloft, that allowed the head to turn. He would have gone for a blinding attack, but the monster didn't bleed properly for a scalp wound and stabbing a moving eye was actually a lot harder than most people thought, especially when moving.

Also, rather easier, funnily enough; depending on who you asked.

Dozen more attacks, quick passes that forced them back and one massive rising elbow that cracked a jaw and cost Arthur the use of his left hip as the kris ended up embedded in there, his opponent had fallen back. Arms hanging by itside, the ghost floated there, dozens of streams of ghostly floating away from it.

Leaving Arthur thinking he might be winning. Which was, of course, the wrong thing to think.

Before he could correct himself, the monster threw its head back. A rising scream, echoing around, assaulting the Climber. His kris - and the one embedded in his hip - vibrated to the scream, one of rage and loss and eery death. Desperately, as the pain built, Arthur yanked the one hin his hip out with his injured arm, gripping his own tighter.

The scream kept rising, higher and higher, louder and louder till suddenly, even with hands clutching his ears as best he can; his ears popped. Eardrums shattered, leaving Arthur suddenly deaf. 

Not that it mattered, for the vibrations themselves continued in his very bones.

Eyes began to bleed, pain wrapping itself around the Climber. Rather than just stand there and wait, Arthur pulled on his own trump card, the one he had been holding back for just this moment. Wishing it was, somehow, stronger than this.

The Refined Exploding Energy Dart flew out from his third eye, skirting through space. Yet, to Arthur’s surprise, its form began to come apart as it approached the screaming ghost, the energetic container peeling away as the sonic attack reached it.

Such that, even before it reached the ghost, it exploded, the untamed, highly volatile energy within escaping. A roar of blue and white energy released into the air, transforming into white and yellow flames at the edges as it dissipated. Minor shockwave, enough to throw the hair of the pair back and – thankfully – for the ghost to stagger back.

Looking upset, staring back at Arthur as its scream was ended.

Before it could begin again, the Climber flipped the knife, held underhand and low at the ghost. He followed it close behind, pushing off with one leg, rushing as best he could as he dragged himself after. Scared that he would never make it, Arthur dropped Steel Skin to begin empowering another Energy Dart.

The kris, never a weapon meant to be thrown, struck his opponent awkwardly. It hit center mass on the monster, but was caught half-flipped. Still, sufficient force had been input to make the ghost hunch over a little, indrawn breath exhaled as the kris clattered to the ground.

Moments before Arthur reached, that exhalation of air transformed.

No more plain air, but biting wind, chill and cold seeping into the surroundings. White mist and fog grew, rapidly multiplying as Arthur plunged into the newly created cloud bank, swinging at what he believed the head to be, his vision blinded.

Fist connected, briefly, with something. Glancing off a chin or jaw or top of head, he couldn’t tell but the exhalation never stopped, the cloud billowing forth such that vision – even a foot away – was lost. Hip gave way, forcing him to fall over with a gasp. The cold froze over his ears, his extremities, his eyes began to hurt as did his breath. His body did not shiver, not yet; but he knew soon enough he’d be facing hypothermia as well.

Again, he pushed up, grateful at least that the cold froze the blood from his wounds. Searching, hunting for his opponent. Swinging arms wide, as he listened. Everything sounded strange, thin and muffled, the cracking of branches, the chirp of birds and the never-ending chorus of cicadas and grasshoppers and the buzz of insects fading.

Frost grew on his skin, his tongue run across teeth that had begun to ache like he had eaten too much ice cream too fast. It ached, all the way into his jaw, each breath a pain. Even his Yin Body could not handle such a sudden decline, though a part of him knew that he was mildly resistance to the cold because of it.

Yin Body or not, he was still mortal, he still needed his blood unfrozen, his muscles warmed, his tendons to work. His eyes hurt, being open, a biting ache and a swirl of whiteness - frost - around his eyes. 

"You know, if you wanted to retire and move to Genting Highlands or even Frasier Hill, you could make some good money. Make the resorts actually cold again," Arthur called out, hoping to get something, anything. Global warming had done quite the thing to the poor hilltop resorts, reducing the nice chilliness of low twenties or even teens to mid-twenties at best most days. Well, global warming and extreme development removing much of the trees, though some efforts to fix that had occurred.

Or so he heard at least. He'd only ever been, once. A combined holiday and training trip, in an attempt to learn more about the wilderness and the cold.

Arthur was cursing now, wondering around, desperate to find his way out. He wasn't even sure which was he was going, not anymore, and with the Energy Dart stored away, chose to switch techniques. If he couldn't find Tun Rahman soon, he was going to have to run off rather than stay.

After all, you couldn't kill what you couldn't see.

Another step, then another. Nothing...

Pain, coursing up his back as claws raked across his defenseless back, forcing him to stagger. Only willpower and training and his healing kept him standing, as he realised the game now.

And how greatly disadvantaged he was.