[1% LIFESTEAL EDIT] Chapter 177 - Basilisk

[Author's Note]
I'd prefer to avoid doing this in the future if possible. But for this chapter, I felt a real need to redeem myself.
Don't worry; this doesn't change anything about the overall outcome, so if you don't feel like it, you don't have to reread the chapter. But I think I've conveyed what I was aiming for a lot better with this attempt. Feedback is welcome, as always.
And thank you to everyone who provided feedback! It really helped me home in on the issues that were throwing the whole vibe off.
Cheers!
And for those of you who re-read it---enjoy!

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As Freddy activated his spirit ability, he immediately sprinted out into the hallway. Travis easily kept up with him, given that he was severely slowed down, but it didn’t take long for the ratio to twist, and for Freddy to leave the man behind. 

Freddy leaped from one wall to another, turning corners down the hallways until he finally spotted the two men who had just left his room. Their backs were turned to him. 

With a thought, he cast a double-starred Blood Javelin, conjuring two spears, one in each hand. He allowed the left one to float in the air as he pulled his arm back and prepared to throw the one he was holding in his right. 

His Hydraulic Throw activated with both stars as well, and he felt the explosive potential building in his muscles as the tension concept went to work. He allowed it to build until it charged to the point where it would tear his muscles apart, and then, just as the time dilation of Twisted Pendulum was about to end, he threw the spear, adding a double-starred Accelerate Blood Projectile into the mix. 

The javelin left his hand with such an immense amount of force that the stone cracked under his feet, and the air imploded with a deafening crack, and the javelin floating in the air beside him immediately followed, flying with the exact same speed and power as its counterpart. 

And their target? 

The back of Basilisk’s head.

Freddy fully expected to see the man’s brain scatter on the walls, but with an absolutely impossible reaction time, the man raised a hand covered in stone scales and intercepted the first spear without even turning around. 

The javelin bounced off his hand with an unbelievable amount of force, ricocheting at the wall and then bouncing off it with a series of high-pitched metallic pings and a final crash as it collapsed the wall on the other end of the hallway, but it barely left a scratch on the stone scales, even if the sheer momentum had sent the man tumbling forward—unfortunately, out of the way of the second javelin. 

Basilisk groaned and shouted in surprise as he came to a stop. 

Freddy could feel the feedback from his talent. That had hurt the man. Less than he would have liked to, but more than he was afraid it would. While he knew he was getting himself into some very unfavorable odds, his target could bleed.

And if he could bleed, he would die.

But unfortunately, he wasn’t alone.

Mark pulled out his sword and whirled to face Freddy. “What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” he shouted. 

“Shut the hell up!” Freddy yelled back. “Out of the way or you’re dead, too!”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Mark declared coldly as he got into a stance. 

Something about the stance immediately tickled Freddy’s memory. He recognized the stance. Hell, he recognized the sword Mark was holding. 

The image of the man clad in full armor overlapped with the sight of Mark. Their height was the same. Their overall frame was the same. The weapon was the same. 

He froze on the spot as his lips twisted into an ugly snarl. “On top of everything else… you’re the one who killed him.” Despair pooled alongside his uncontrollable anger. “How fucking dare you?”

Basilisk finally got back to his feet and glared angrily at Freddy. “First you disrespect me. Then, you try to kill me!?” He spat the words out as if he could barely believe them himself. “You really have a death wish, don’t you?”

Freddy conjured his Sanguine Avenger just as Travis appeared behind him. 

The man paused at the sight and raised his weapon. Frankly, Travis was dead weight in this fight. At most, he would act as an assistant distraction. But Freddy didn’t tell him to back away. He respected the man too much to look down on him like that.

Travis undoubtedly knew that this fight would cost him his life, or, at the very least, it would cripple him. And seeing the resolve on his face, as long as it swayed the odds even a single percent in Freddy’s favour, the man was willing to accept that sacrifice. 

Freddy’s eyes met Basilisk’s and then Mark’s gaze as he slowly took a step forward.

Sadly, he had lost his momentum. Twisted Pendulum was too risky to use again. 

His mind rushed as he thought through his options. 

Frankly, any kind of drawn-out fight was a lost cause. These two weren’t some random nobodies. Unless he caught them by surprise, he highly doubted his chances.

The only thing that came to mind was batshit insane and extremely risky, but it had a solid chance of ending the fight immediately. 

First, he’d rush forward and trade hits with whoever came at him first. He’d have to bank on his Tsunami Strike doing more damage than whatever they threw at him. Then, with the boost from Sanguine Avenger, he would hit the other one. 

He might not win instantly, but if he landed his attacks, he would gain the upper hand. 

The stretch of hallway between the two pairs of men grew deathly still as they eyed each other. The air between them grew so heavy that it felt as if it were going to explode. Any movement, even the most subtle of twitches, was going to ignite the powder keg. 

It was at that moment that a green flash of light lit up the ceiling in the middle of the hallway, right between them, and the stone crumbled, dropping to the floor together with a very angry adjudicator. 

Shit.

The man glanced at Basilisk and Mark, and then back at Freddy. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Adjudicator,” Freddy greeted in acknowledgement. “We are in the middle of something. I’d highly appreciate it if you could get out of the way.”

“I asked you a question, Mr. Cliff.” The man released his aura. It was a ghastly thing. The full brunt of a four-star’s aura was something that should have made Freddy drop to his knees. Travis, in fact, did drop to his knees, panting as sweat washed over him. 

But Freddy didn’t. He stood deathly still, his crimson executioner’s sword in his hand. “Please,” he repeated himself. “I really need you to get out of my way.”

Other than the unspeakable hatred he felt for these two, Freddy needed them dead for practical reasons. These were bastards of the highest order. He simply knew that, should he let them live, he would regret it.

“Adjudicator,” Basilisk called. “Good that you’re here.” The man pointed at Freddy. “Arrest him. He just tried to assassinate me.”

“Do not push your luck, serpent,” the adjudicator said, turning the brunt of his aura in Basilisk’s direction. “I know you well enough to know you’re guilty of whyever he’s trying to kill you, so don’t play the innocent victim card on me!”

Basilisk snarled. “Is this how you treat your guests, then? You wouldn’t want me to report this to the high council, would you?”

“Hah!” The adjudicator’s expression darkened. “Big words for a fallen Lord!”

Freddy took another step forward, but just as he did, the adjudicator fired a shard of crystallized miasma right at the floor in front of him. “Mr. Cliff. I will not repeat myself a third time. Step back.”

Freddy gritted his teeth. “Why are you defending them?” 

“Are you out of your damn mind!?” The adjudicator shouted. “You are trying to kill my guests right under my nose!”

Releasing an ugly laugh, Freddy reminded the man, “Oh, so they’re your guests now? Isn’t this supposed to be my city?”

“Do not play the fool with me. You are seriously testing the limits of my patience.” Then, the man lowered his voice and warned, “And I would think twice about challenging these two if I were you.” The man glared at him with a crazed look. “So step. Back.”

“Oh?” A woman’s voice came from behind Freddy. “What’s going on here?”

The adjudicator visibly paled. “Miss Umbra.”

Freddy glanced behind him and spotted the dark-affinity archhuman woman standing there, grinning widely. “Please, Judge, call me Emily.” She waved generously. “Oh, and don’t let me distract you! I’m just going to stand here and watch.” She moved over and leaned back against the wall, giving them a final, cheerful wave and then a dismissive swipe of her hand, as if encouraging them to continue whatever they were doing.

The adjudicator turned his glare back at Freddy with a dire warning behind it, clearly urging him to back away. 

But he couldn’t. 

Freddy had never truly processed Thor’s death. It was a scar on his heart that had never healed. And now, he felt it pulsing, burning with an ache that didn’t allow him to walk away. 

Perhaps had it not been for the fact that Basilisk was partially responsible for his kidnapping, he’d have been able to keep his emotions in check. But now, the chance to control himself had slipped through his fingers. 

Fury, unlike any he’d ever felt in his life, was burning inside him. He wasn’t in a backing away kind of mood. So he turned his gaze from the adjudicator to look directly at the person who had betrayed him. “How could you, Mark?”

Mark cocked an eyebrow at him. “How could I what? And why are you talking to me like we’re old buddies?”

Freddy shot him an ugly grin. “Because we fucking are.” 

For all a second, the man watched him with a baffled gaze. And then, it seemed to click. He chuckled, which gradually grew into a bout of uncontrollable laughter. “So it is you! I knew it! I… just… knew it! I kept thinking to myself that it’s impossible, but there were so many signs! Motherfuckin’ Freddy Stern is still alive. I just wonder—how?” he asked, lowering his sword ever-so-slightly. “Just how did you live? Believe it or not, I had followed Madame to investigate your disappearance in that mining camp.”

Freddy’s eyebrows twitched at that. “Really?”

Mark nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah. She seemed absolutely convinced you were still alive, and would you look at that? She was right. And not only that, but you’ve grown, too. Much too quickly, at that.”

Freddy scoffed. “You’re one to speak. Almost a peak three-star? Did you sell your soul to the devil or something?”

Mark’s eye twitched. But he adopted a smile and waved him off. “I had some luck, that’s all.”

“So tell me”—he raised his sword as all friendliness vanished from his expression—”did you follow her to finish me off?”

Mark hesitated at that. A dark look crossed his eyes, and for a brief moment, he appeared sick at those words. His iron grip on the sword faltered, and he looked away in shame. “No. Madame brought me to apologize.”

For the briefest of moments, a loose thread of joy frayed from the blend of conflicting emotions twisting in Freddy’s heart. But it burned away but a moment later. “Maybe if you’d found me back then, I’d have accepted the apology. But you killed Thor,” he declared coldly. “You’re no bright-eyed innocent young man with a future ahead of you.” He pointed his sword at Basilisk. “And you’re friends with him? Bastard. You don’t deserve forgiveness.”

Mark’s down-turned lips forcefully twisted into a nasty smile as anger sneaked into his brows. “Who says I was ever actually sorry?”

Freddy chuckled darkly. “You’re a goddamn psychopath.”

A stream of people appeared on both ends of the hallway. Many of them were servants,  but at the forefront were the rest of the young elites, who had no doubt come to see what caused the disturbance. 

At this point, the adjudicator could do nothing but stand there with a resigned look.

Mark cocked his head at Freddy’s accusation. “A psychopath? Who?” He pointed at himself. “Me?” The man looked at him with an amused look. And then, that amusement instantly fell away, replaced by a flat, hollow stare that pierced Freddy’s soul. “Those are big words coming from someone like you, Freddy.” He took a step forward. “And what are you, then? You, who lured a man into a back alley to kill him?”

Freddy paled at the mention of that. “What did you just say?”

Mark’s grin returned. “What? You thought I didn’t know about that?” He scoffed. “And you’re a thief, too. You stole from the Kraven Clan.”

Those words were like a dagger twisting in Freddy’s heart. “You don’t believe that.”

“Oh yes I do,” Mark said. “What I don’t know is how you did it, but I can make a few guesses. You likely knew the value of any items tied to a passage break like that. Tell me, Freddy, did you go around tearing shirts off of corpses while nobody was watching?”

“Fuck off. I know for a fact you don’t believe that.”

“And what proof do you have?” Mark asked.

Freddy laughed at that. “You had an innocent young man tortured for half a year. For entirely selfish reasons. If you actually believe anything you’re saying, then the guilt must have eaten your brain.”

“No, Freddy,” the man said coldly. “You’re right that I felt guilty. And of course you’d know that, because you played on my emotions. You manipulated me.”

“Oooh!” Emily Umbra said with a cheerful giggle. “Now this is getting spicy!” 

Freddy shot the woman a glare, which she returned with a vaguely hostile smile. Then, he turned back to Mark.

“This is ridiculous,” Basilisk suddenly cut in. “Stop wasting your time, Mark. Adjudicator, please come to your senses. We were attacked by this man, completely unprovoked. If you aren’t going to punish him, then at least—”

But Mark suddenly raised a hand and took a step forward. “I’m not done.”

“Yes you are,” Basilisk said, pulling Mark’s arm down. “Be quiet.”

“Yeah, Mark,” Freddy provoked with a sardonic grin. “You’ve said enough. How about you shut up, now?”

“You sold me the story of the sad little orphan who was just trying to get by in life,” Mark forcefully continued.

“Mark, please!” Basilisk begged. “Adjudicator—”

“And I really bought it!” Mark shouted over Harold. “I truly believed that you were nothing but an innocent kid who got caught up with nasty business. But I mean… Come on. Look at yourself. Do you really believe you’re the good guy here? Dear Lord, you joined a group of terrorists!”

“You shut your mouth!” Travis suddenly shouted from beside Freddy. “You don’t understand a single thing we stand for!”

“Mark I swear to God,” Basilisk insisted, pulling harder on Mark’s arm. 

But in response, Mark tore his hand away and paced forward. “You know what kinds of stories I’ve heard about the renowned ‘Freddy Cliff’? It isn’t flattering. Ripping people’s heads off. Assassinating innocent delvers. Mass murder, raids on local businesses, public executions; it’s like you think you’re a god! But you’re not.

“You’re a petty, violent, monstrous tyrant. You were a piece of shit back then, and you’re a piece of shit now. So let’s drop this farce, okay?” Mark turned to the group of people standing around the room. “You should all be careful in your dealings with this man. He just tried to kill my dear friend here in cold blood. Watch your back in these hallways, you never know when he’s going to lose it!”

“Literally no one wants you to keep talking, Mark,” Freddy reminded.

Mark shot him a derisive grin and continued. “Also, just so you all know since he’s certainly keeping it a secret—his talent is basically an infinite source of supreme-quality healing!”

“You!” Freddy shouted as he took a furious step forward.

Mark continued, clearly emboldened. “That’s right, you heard me! Supreme quality!” Then, the man stopped as he seemingly realized something. He laughed as he raised his index finger. “Now hold on a minute! I think I know where those high-quality organs are coming from! It’s him!” Mark declared with a clap of his hands. “He’s tearing them out of himself!”

Freddy felt a cold sensation wash over him. He just couldn’t understand it. What the hell was Mark doing? Why? What was the purpose of this? His mind churned as he grasped for any justification for the man’s actions, but all that came back was a hollow, ringing pain.

And Mark still kept going, “Tell me, do you think he could possibly be in his right mind? What kind of person could tear their own guts out over and over and over, treating themselves like a living organ incubator? If he does that to himself, what do you think he’s willing to do to others?”

Before he even realized what he was doing, Freddy started walking forward. 

“You!” The adjudicator shouted. “Stop!” For a moment, he looked like he was going to attack, but he hesitated—instead, he leaped forward and pushed Freddy back with both hands. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to be forced to act. You don’t want this.”

For his part, Freddy grabbed the adjudicator by the arm and squeezed. The man winced. “I need you to get out of my way. Now.”

Mark cackled. “See!” he shouted. “He is a lunatic!” Mark raised his sword and got into a stance. “Tyrant! Terrorist!” he goaded, staggering as he seemed to suddenly run out of breath. “Coward! Liar!” He kept shouting. Then, taking a deep breath, he whispered. “Murderer.” And then, with all the venom he could muster, he spat, “Thief.”

It was at that moment that something within Freddy cracked. 

His aura, which had already been fully released, pulled on the depths of his soul. The weight of the numerous stage 3 abilities he had. Their extreme compression. Visions of the churning, pulsating universe of macabre insanity flashed across his vision as he struggled to breathe. 

And then, he just let it all out. 

The color of the space around him instantly drained. 

At that moment, the room went deathly quiet, and everyone turned to look at him.

He was possessed with but a single thought.

I’m going to kill him. 

He took a step, and this time, the adjudicator didn’t stop him.

A look of pure, unrestrained hate pierced Mark like an arrow, and the man found himself taking an involuntary step back. 

Basilisk stepped in front of him, and with a flash of three stars, a thick covering of stone scales appeared all across his body. “Get your shit together,” he told Mark. “He’s still just a two-star.”

The visibly sweaty Mark nodded and raised his sword. 

What am I doing? Freddy thought as his steps faltered. 

Even if he wasn’t utterly outclassed, he was sure that the adjudicator would stop him as soon as he started fighting. They were surrounded by incredibly important people. The man, regardless of how much he’d invested in Freddy, absolutely couldn’t afford to allow a fight like this to happen.

But Freddy took another step forward. 

This is a really bad idea, he thought. I’m probably going to die, he told himself. 

So why can’t I stop? 

It was like he was possessed. Suddenly, the words of Insanity itself echoed in his mind.

You are this close to completely losing yourself. 

As soon as he realized what was happening, a horrible panic swelled in his chest. 

He was no stranger to being stupid. He knew what being dumb felt like. This was way worse than simply being dumb.

His breath sped up. His heart hammered in his chest. He wasn’t even acting consciously at this point. It was just pure madness that was driving him forward, into what was likely the worst mistake he would ever make. 

He threw every bit of willpower he had, and yet, he was still moving forward. 

Mark raised his sword higher and he saw Basilisk’s face twist into an expectant grin. 

Willpower is much like a heart; it keeps beating forever—until it doesn’t.

Freddy had completely lost control of himself.

The realization struck him with a weight he couldn’t deny. He desperately looked for anything that could help him regain control of himself.

In his desperation, he resorted to a truly insane choice—mentally, he selected Hundred Thousand Wet Hells. 

If you take another step forward, he told himself, I’m going to kill myself. 

His steps halted. Where there was no self-control, survival instinct kicked in. And that was enough. With every last shred of willpower he could muster,. he pulled and then—

Freddy chuckled. It all went away like it never even happened. In a shocking contrast, he calmly shook his head. “Nobody here is a fool, Mark. People know who I am and what I’ve done. I won’t defend myself as I know better than anyone that I’m far from perfect. But you”—he pointed a finger at him—”are a lost cause. I see a shell of a man when I look at you. A hollow, echoing husk. 

“Ask yourself—what are you trying to accomplish by spilling my secret like this? What, are you hoping someone here will kidnap me and turn me into an organ farm?” Freddy chuckled as he looked around the room. “Any takers?”

“I might give it a go,” Emily Umbra said from behind him with a deadpan look on her face. 

The way she said it genuinely sent a chill down Freddy’s spine. He thought it sounded a bit like a joke, but frankly, he wasn’t actually sure. He opted to ignore her as he looked back at Mark.

For an instant, the same madness flickered though his mind again, but he pushed it down with a deep breath as he stared his former friend down with a look of true, genuine betrayal. “You’ve kept your arm, man. But you’ve lost everything else.”

Mark’s lips turned into a displeased frown. “Don’t talk like you know anything about me.”

“I don’t know shit about you and I don’t care to.” He turned around. “I just know that this isn’t over.” Then, he started walking the other way. 

Basilisk shouted after him, “And where do you think you’re going? You think you can make an attempt on my life and then walk away?”

“Sure I can—watch me.” And then he proceeded to do exactly that. 

As soon as he was out of sight, he collapsed to his knees and grabbed at his chest. Tears streamed down his face. “I can’t take it anymore,” he admitted it to himself as he wept uncontrollably.

***

Basilisk watched Freddy Stern turn around and walk away with a look of pure disbelief on his face. He turned to the adjudicator. “You’re letting him go,” he accused. 

The adjudicator met Basilisk’s gaze and scoffed. “Of course I am. You’ve felt the same thing I did. My primary duty is to nourish talent like that. And just so you know, if you try to touch him, I will defend his life.”

“Even if he attacks me first?”

The adjudicator nodded.

Basilisk remained quiet for a few long seconds. “You will regret this.”

“Are you threatening an imperial official, Harold?” The man warned. “You are not a Lord anymore. Stop acting like one.”

Basilisk gritted his teeth as he pushed a smile to his lips. “Why of course. How could I forget?” He tapped the side of his head. “Thank you for stepping in to… defend me, Adjudicator. I’ll be sure to pay the favor back.” And with that, he turned around. 

Mark followed after him. 

Before long, they made it to the room they were staying in, and Basilisk slammed the door shut behind him. “He dislocated my shoulder,” he said simply.

Mark’s eyes widened. “How?”

Harold winced as he pushed his shoulder back into place. “Three stage 3 abilities, by my guess. And something on top of that.”

With a sardonic chuckle, Mark shook his head. “No wonder he has an aura like that, then.” He sighed. “What do we do now?”

“We leave,” the man said. “We aren’t welcome here. The adjudicator will keep taking his side, and I expect him to abuse that at every turn.” He gave Mark a serious look. “I count myself lucky to have survived that.” Raising the hand he used to defend himself, he dropped the stone scales and showed a giant bruise that started at his palm and reached half-way up his forearm. 

Mark scowled. “All of that with just a javelin?”

Harold nodded. 

With a sour look on his face, Mark groaned. “He humiliated us.” But the shame in his expression ran deeper than his words. 

Basilisk felt nothing but disgust at seeing Mark like this. “I’ll have my revenge.” A sudden, sadistic grin split the man’s face apart. “But before then, I’ll send him a message.”

***

Freddy sat on the corner of his bed. A deep numbness had settled all throughout his body. 

The doors to his room opened and the adjudicator walked inside. The man stopped a few feet away from him.

Freddy tentatively glanced at the man’s face. The deeply displeased frown made him look away.

“I hope you’re aware just how much you strained my reputation today, Mr… Stern,” the man said. “Is that your real name?”

Freddy nodded. “Yes. And before you ask, I changed it because I was running from people who wanted me dead.”

“The Kraven Clan?” The adjudicator chuckled darkly. “That is one hell of a coincidence. What exactly did you steal from them?”

“I never stole anything from anyone,” he muttered with more spite than he thought was possible to imbue his words with. “I was falsely accused. Then I was kidnapped and tortured for half a year. Basilisk played a part in that. That’s part of why I tried killing him.”

The adjudicator sighed and pinched his brow. “I will need a way to confirm your real identity. And, if you have a way to prove your allegations against Mr. Maskaart, it would go a long way to justifying my decision to protect you.”

“You can ask Matt Canstone about it. I’m sure Lady Narcisse Morleppe would be glad to corroborate my story.”

“Good,” the man said with a nod. “That’s good.” He released something that resembled a sigh of relief. “And about your talent… I am not happy that it was revealed in front of everyone like that. But, for what it’s worth, you don’t have to be afraid. You are currently under my protection.”

I’m afraid of you more than anyone else, Freddy thought but adopted a thankful smile anyway. “Thank you, Judge. And I’m sorry for the commotion I caused. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“I will hold you to that promise.” The man leaned forward, getting almost close enough to kiss Freddy as he stared deep into his eyes. “This isn’t a joke. Next time, when I tell you to back away, you will listen to me. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, Judge. It won’t happen again.”

“Good,” the man spat and turned around. “Our guests are no doubt familiar with Basilisk. He’s a rather notorious individual. Trying to kill him will hardly wound their opinion of you.”

Freddy snorted at that. “Loveable guy, huh?”

The adjudicator shook his head. “It takes a lot to lose a Lordship in the empire. But he’s crossed so many lines and so many people that it was hardly surprising. That being said, he is still incredibly dangerous, and antagonizing him was a poor choice on your part. Be careful of him. He won’t stop until he ruins you.” And with those words, the man left the room.

Freddy felt deeply uneasy at the warning, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now. 

Obviously, he wouldn’t let it go. Sooner or later, he would have that serpent’s head. 

But his thoughts were more occupied with Mark.

It was hard to come to terms with the fact that he was the same Mark he’d once known. Freddy’s mind simply refused to fuse the image of the two individuals together. Perhaps it was wrong to even try. 

A small part of him wanted to have nothing to do with Mark ever again. But that wasn’t going to happen.

For most of that day, there were no knocks on Freddy’s door. He was dreading the thought of someone knocking on his door. No matter who came, it wouldn’t be good. 

But nothing could prepare him for the frantic, panicked knocks that came from the other side. For the screams of a young woman begging for Freddy to hurry up and open the door. 

So he did. 

And there, he saw Janice, disheveled and wide-eyed, holding a lacerated, bruised Lucas Black, with all his fingers missing, his tongue cut off, and his eyes gouged out of his skull.