Phantom Fenrir's grin widened, showing more of its sharp teeth.
"So, this spot alright with you? Or do you need a bit more room to, ah, express yourself?"
Aziel's brow furrowed slightly. This was more posturing than genuine concern, but the question still held a strategic weight.
"Blackie," Aziel murmured, keeping his eyes fixed on the wolf-headed figure, "any thoughts?"
"Doesn't really matter to me," Blackie responded in his mind. "Your opponent is a Mythical Beast. Confined or open, it will likely use the environment to its advantage. The real question is, which environment favors you more?"
Aziel mentally reviewed his limited arsenal. His primary advantage was the inherited skills of his arms, and his swordsmanship was improving. But cramped quarters would limit both his movement and the reach of his arms.
Although cramped spaces offer the perfect cover for hiding and launching surprise attacks, Aziel knew such tactics would prove useless against Phantom Fenrir.
Plus Blackie also said the Mythical Beast can control shadow. Wouldn't it be wiser to choose a wide-open space with no sheltering shades or silhouettes? At least, that's what he thought.
"An open space would be better."
Phantom Fenrir chuckled. "Open space it is."
A ripple seemed to pass through the forest around them.
Aziel watched in stunned silence as the gnarled, blackened trees surrounding them seemed to melt, their forms blurring as they sunk into the earth. The dense, shadowy undergrowth receded, disappearing as if swallowed whole.
What had been a dense forest was now a wide, relatively clear space. The ground was still dark and barren, but the increased visibility was undeniable. Patches of weak sunlight, previously choked out by the dense foliage, now dappled the ground. The air felt a fraction less heavy.
No way, Aziel thought, his mind reeling. Were all those trees and bushes… just its shadows?
It really didn't matter for Phant0m Fenrir whether the place was shaded or not.
The air crackled with anticipation as they faced each other.
"Alright, Aziel. Since you're the guest, be my guest and throw the opening punch. Or spell. Or whatever you want."
Aziel felt his mind race, options colliding and scattering like leaves in a storm. He needed a plan, and fast.
"Blackie, any suggestions on how I should act battling this guy? How did I fight him before?" Aziel whispered to his ring.
Blackie's voice filled his mind. "The best advice I can give you is to use everything you have. Try to combine the best attacks and defenses from each arm you possess. Use this sparring opportunity to familiarize yourself with your powers and to regain your past battle experience."
Aziel nodded, mentally agreeing.
He focused, summoning the Samurai Arm. The severed limb rematerialized beside him, and his will commanded it to grip the katana sheathed at his waist. He prepared to act.
But before he could even take a step… the ground vanished beneath him.
He crashed down, a searing pain exploding in his lower body.
He looked down in disbelief. His legs… his legs were gone. Severed cleanly just below the knees.
Aziel groaned, his body wracked with agony.
His eyes darted around frantically, searching for the source of the sudden attack.
Close by, he saw them; fleeting, wisplike shadows that flickered like heat haze near the ground. Sharp, jagged shapes that were unmistakably blades of solidified darkness.
These were likely what stole his legs.
The shadows retreated, dissolving back into the ground with unnatural speed.
Phantom Fenrir, despite his earlier taunting, actually looked surprised, even faintly annoyed. "What is this, Aziel? What happened to you? How did you become this ridiculously weak?"
Clutching at his ruined legs, Aziel desperately called out. "Blackie! … Blackie!"
Silence. Dead silence.
For some reason, there was no reply from Blackie.
Aziel gritted his teeth against the pain. He couldn't afford to panic.
Suddenly, a ripple disturbed the air near Aziel. More shadows, this time manifesting as tentacle. It seemed to emerge from the earth itself.
The shadowy tentacle held something within its dark form, which Aziel identified a vial.
With unnerving precision, the tentacle tilted the vial, pouring its contents onto the bloody stumps of Aziel's legs. The liquid was slowly absorbed into his flesh.
Aziel gasped, a shock wave of energy coursing through him. The pain lessened, replaced by a tingling sensation that spread outwards from the point of contact.
He watched, half mesmerized and half terrified, as new flesh knit together, bones reforming, and skin stretching over them. In seconds, his legs had grown back.
The tentacle then receded, sinking back into the earth, leaving no trace.
With his legs restored, Phantom Fenrir stared. "I'm giving you a head start, Aziel. But you're going to have to do much better than that. Now get up."
Aziel rose to his feet with ease. His newly grown legs didn't feel much different from his originals.
That vial's contents… is it some kind of healing potion? Can a healing potion really regrow a lost limb?
"Blackie! Blackie, respond!"
Still, only silence.
Aziel grit his teeth. He couldn't rely on Blackie now. He was on his own.
He needed a new approach. Direct confrontation clearly wasn't working. He was too slow and predictable.
This time, Aziel wouldn't telegraph his moves. He wouldn't rely on brute force. He'd try a feint, a distraction.
Aziel summoned the Papa arm, and grabbed it with his left hand. Its bony fingers twitched, claws glinting in the dim light. Aziel planned to use its size to his advantage; The arm was nimble enough.
He feigned a lunge to the left, hoping to draw Phantom Fenrir's focus. At the same time, he'd summon Big Guy, its hulking form exploding into existence directly between them, hopefully blocking whatever was coming his way.
But Phantom Fenrir was a step ahead. The moment Aziel shifted his weight, a dozen razor-sharp shadows erupted from the ground. Not towards his legs this time, but towards his hands.
Before Aziel could react, the shadows pierced his palms, impaling him to the spot. The pain was blinding, searing through his nerves.
But that wasn't all. The shadows then contorted, morphing into grappling hooks that yanked him forward, launching him like a projectile toward Phantom Fenrir.
Aziel squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for impact.
The world exploded in white-hot agony as Phantom Fenrir's foot connected with his chest.
He was sent hurtling backward, skidding across the barren ground like a broken doll. The air was forced from his lungs, and every nerve ending screamed in protest and pain.
He came to a stop in a crumpled heap, his vision blurring.
Phantom Fenrir stalked towards him, its crimson eyes burning with disappointment and amusement.
"Is that all you've got, Aziel? I am… beyond disappointed. You've become pathetic."
He loomed over Aziel, his shadow stretching long and menacing across the ground.
"I was expecting a challenge, a worthy spar. Something to at least break a sweat." Phantom Fenrir continued. "But what I see is just a pale imitation of the fighter I once knew."
Phantom Fenrir leaned in close, his breath hot against Aziel's face. "Until you can give me something more, something that even remotely satisfies me, I'm going to make sure you hurt. A lot."