27. Visage

[Designation: VISAGE]

[Instrument Class: ERUDITE]

[Anchored Realm: MANESFERA (+3)]

[Item Description: What does it mean to wear a mask? It's a commitment to a narrow set of duties and expectations—stripping away your own face to take on the immutable persona of another. It could be another soul, a god, a fantastical creature, or even an idea, but whatever it may be, it's not you as you know yourself. Yet, in another, very real sense, a mask can be freeing. By shifting into that second 'you', you leave behind the burdens and misgivings of the first. You breathe life into a new reality, in which your choices are redefined, dreams relived, and sins reclaimed. Who will you be when you put on that mask—the dreamer or the sinner?]

***

"You wanna know why I don't like to wear VISAGE?"

When Serac finally did ask (and not without some trepidation), Zacko had been surprisingly forthright with his answer, showing none of his usual glibness. The answer itself had been just as surprising—not only for its simple logic, but also for its manifold implications.

"I suppose there are many reasons, but if I were to boil it down to one, it's because I don't want to go further into debt. You see, VISAGE's proprietary resource is Karma. I need to spend Karma to use its powers. Yup. You can say I drew the short end of the transmutation stick."

That explains so much! Had been Serac's first thought. It even explains why Zacko was always so keen to partner up. He can hold his own with THE NINEFOLD DAO, but he needs another Wayfarer to pull out the big guns on occasion. Occasions like fighting a boss with upwards of 3,000 HP…

"Wait, hang on." Serac had frowned as she gave voice to her second thought. "You did manage to level up to 16, so you used to earn more Karma then you spent, right? What happened? Where did it all go wrong?"

The shadow that came over Zacko's face then had told Serac that she'd stumbled onto 'ghost' territory.

"Let's just say I ran into a situation where I ended up draining a metric shit-ton of Karma… with nothing to show for it in the end. It's a boring tale. Nothing that would strike your fancy, and irrelevant to our goals."

Serac hadn't pressed further. If she and Zacko hadn't yet progressed into the opening-old-scars phase of their partnership, then so be it. Besides, even this bit of truncated confession had been a marked improvement over the boasts about wine and women.

"I get why you bring it up, though," Zacko had continued then, "and you don't need to twist my arm. Against an enemy of Vetala-Ashvanaga's mitigation profile, I can't be too precious about my Karma. I mean, I'm still in the negatives, so what's a few thousand more, right?"

Zacko had said this with one of his not-so-winning winks. Serac had tried to smile back, but she could see that her companion's ghost hadn't fully left him be. In truth, it'd been something of a relief for both of them to shift into the 'strategy' portion of their talk.

"Alright, I think I know exactly how we're going to take out the Ferryman. But for this to work, we're gonna need to pull off a role reversal…"

And reverse it they did.

Presently, Serac the scrawny gunslinger jumped in front of the living castle, while her muscly Manusya partner ran off to the side. For their strategy to work, Serac had to start out as the 'tank', drawing aggro while Zacko prepared his big VISAGE-empowered attack.

On this second attempt at Vetala-Ashvanaga, Serac knew not to waste her bullets (or her Stamina!) on the castle wall. Instead, she concentrated on staying front and center of the castle. She aligned herself with Vetala's 'eye slit' as she backpedaled at record speed.

The green bar of her Stamina drained at a steady yet manageable rate. She kept one eye on the gauge and the other alert to cues for her to burn more of it. Cues such as a pair of pale, blobby faces that poked out of the parapets above, one for each of the front battlements. Jailer adds. They wasted no time to make nuisances of themselves, chucking blood-tipped javelins in Serac's direction.

Just two javelins. I can 'tank' them. I have to.

"Start off by letting the Jailers' javelins hit you," had been Zacko's instruction to her. "One might be enough, but preferably two to be safe."

"Yeah, I get you." Serac had responded with a sigh. "I don't like it, but it's what I have to do to maximize the damage from [Catharsis]."

"That too, but there's more to this. Remember the end of the last fight? How I got skewered by the damn things? Well, right before I died, I noticed that the javelins proc'd [Bleed]. My guess is they're coated with Vetala's (or Ashvanaga's) magic."

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Procked bleed?" Serac had looked at Zacko like he'd grown a pair of onyx horns. "Seriously, man, does everyone in Manesfera talk like this, or just you?"

"In this case, Wayfarer, the Manusya has employed the appropriate terminology." Trippy had come in to perform his glossary duties, much to Serac's chagrin. "[Bleed] denotes a status effect in which the afflicted soul continually loses a small amount of health, proportional to their maximum HP. It comes under the umbrella of various DoT—or damage over time—effects that are recognized under Pathsight. 'Proc', on the other hand, is something of a colloquialism among Wayfarers active in the current Kalpa."

"I swear, this generation and their newfangled lingo are doing my head in."

"You're literally one of the newest Wayfarers of this generation." Zacko had teased without missing a beat. "Accept your fate and get with the times, Serac. And while you're at it, did Trippy also explain to you why you should let yourself [Bleed] in this fight?"

Trippy hadn't. But the answer had come to Serac unaided.

"It's to do with my Realm Boon, isn't it?" At the same time, she'd subconsciously pulled up the relevant info from Pathsight. "TRIBULATION: For every negative status effect on self, the Rakshasa receives a universal Attack Value buff of 5%. I assume [Bleed] counts as one of these negative status effects?"

"Bingo! 5% doesn't sound like much, but against a boss with 3,000 HP, we need all the help we can get."

Serac could certainly agree with all of that. Agreeing with theory, however, didn't make practice any less painful.

[165!], [165!] -> [330!]

[Wayfarer Status Effect: BLEED]

[TRIBULATION active (x1): current buff at 5%]

One javelin went clean through Serac's flank, and the other into her thigh. Gritting her teeth through the pain, she quickly used a PULVERIZER punch to break off the shaft that stuck out from her thigh, lest it affect her performance in the next phase of her tank duties.

This was the most difficult part of her fight. The castle rumbled ever towards its destination, and the Jailers upon its ramparts continued to fling [Bleed]-coated javelins at the Rakshasa gate-crasher. And instead of fighting back, Serac now turned her full focus to making sure she wouldn't get hit again.

[4!], [4!], [4!], …

With every second that passed, Serac lost more of her HP to the [Bleed] effect. Physically, it wasn't so much painful as discomfiting—like she was becoming weaker and more light-headed with each passing second.

While her red bar continued to tick down, she was more concerned with the green. Because she couldn't afford to lose any more Health, she also couldn't block the Jailers' attacks with PULVERIZER. Her only recourse was to sidestep and dodge. Not an easy ask, with two Jailers aiming for one Serac. Each instance of active evasion lost her a discernible chunk of Stamina. She would be forced to stop and recover before long, and that would spell disaster. Unless…

Please hurry, Zacko. I was never cut out to be a tank, and I don't think I can hold out much longer…

"Amazing job, Serac! And now it's my turn."

Finally! But Serac's relief at hearing Zacko's voice quickly turned to bone-chilling awe as she saw his face—no, his VISAGE.

The wooden mask that bore the likeness of a laughing Buddha was now imbued with a purple aura. Purple like a violet flower. Purple like an amethyst jewel. Purple like royalty.

The Buddha's laughter took on a menacing glare as it imparted its magic to its wearer. Zacko's every well-defined muscle now coursed with the same purple energy that radiated from his mask. It was power built from every painstaking second of a Rakshasa's turn at 'tanking'. Power that its Manusya wielder had paid dearly for—with the currency of his self-worth.

[Dreamer Aspect: THE SIXTH DAO—HAMMER OF JUDGMENT]

A leaping headbutt. A NINEFOLD master's signature Poise-break technique, now imbued with Erudite energy and amplified to its maximum potential.

Serac's whole vision flashed with a bright purple light, just as her eardrums ruptured from the resounding crash of Buddha versus stone. And just like the last time a reckless man ran head-first into a rumbling castle, the castle lost, coming to a complete stop at Zacko's feet.

Except, this time, the castle did more than just stop. Zacko's headbutt had left a physical imprint on Ashvanaga's front wall, in the form of an impact crater and chunks of flying debris. And now, the entire structure keeled over.

Yes. Keeled over. That was the first thing that came to Serac's mind as she observed the phenomenon in real time. It was the height of lunacy to attribute such a phrase to a castle of all things, but it was also correct beyond all doubt.

Serac knew this because she'd seen it happen before. She saw it with Porky the Jailer. With Bayu the Warden. And now, she saw it with Ashvanaga the Infernal Steed, as it lost all its castle-y functions along with the entirety of its Poise.

You can Poise-break the opponent, thereby bringing any brute—no matter how large or how powerful—to their knees.

Right again, Trippy Version One. If only he could've been here now to witness a Poise-break of the largest, most powerful brute this side of the Sanzu River.

But now wasn't the time to cry over spilled soul. No, it was time for Serac the gunslinger to step back in—and take full advantage of this Poise-break for the ages.

By Serac's vague estimations, something like 15 to 20 seconds had elapsed between the time she'd suffered [Bleed] and when Zacko had finished charging his [Hammer of Judgment]. Through it all, her HP had continued to tick down by [4!] points per second. Which, combined with the damage from the javelins, had brought her health down to just about half.

This was the moment she'd been saving her Health for. With Ashvanaga down for the count, its castellan was a sitting duck. And as Serac raised a fully-loaded REVOLVER, she caught Vetala's slit-framed eyes as they glinted with discernible fear.

Aim, lock, and:

[Chamber One: CATHARSIS]

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.