The Fallen Vampire

Chapitre 245: Myriad Curse Art : Poison Tree

Compulsion is a fascinating power to witness.

It is not however, a pleasant thing to experience.

Your mind is practically divided into conscious and unconscious thoughts.

And while your mind is separated, your body is still alert and responsive; allowing you to answer any question your mind has stored without your common sense taking over.

Second Year Dan Disciple Elliot Erzhal was learning that right now.

His mouth moved independently of his inhibitions as he spilled the how and why behind his motivations to poison the cult.

But of course, there were still some who were resistant to the current turn of events.

"Y-You must be forcing him to say that!" Hideyoshi pointed at Taira. "Put down my disciple right-"

The tip of Hideyoshi's finger went flying off into the snow and a curved blade was pointed at his throat.

He bit his lip so that he wouldn't cry out as his eyes filled up with water.

"Quiet." Was Taira's only warning.

He turned his attention back to the disciple dangling limply in his grasp.

"Why?"

"For... The Dan Master. That woman humiliated him.. so I wanted her to pay."

Elliot's plan was simple.

He thought that Vermeil dangling the super secret pill recipe in front of his master had thrown off his concentration.

Surely that was the only way that some random old woman could have stormed in from out of nowhere and beaten him!

And then Elliot remembered her words about the competition- or more specifically, the prize that Vermeil's cult was willing to put up for it.

If he acquired it, then his sect leader would surely be happy and his standing might even soar.

On competition day, the Divine Black Myth was slated to compete against the Profound Pill Union in the first round of matches.

Initially, this was a problem because the sect of pill makers are not the fighting sort. Everytime this event is hosted they usually end up dead last. That is if they even decide to participate at all.

They who spend all of their time focused on medicine are obviously unprepared to deal with those who spend all of their time training their physical bodies.

But if there was a way to even up the scoring to where maybe the gap would not be so large, then they may in fact have a chance.

Elliot made an acquaintance the day before.

Like him, she was an up-and-coming member of her sect who was looking for ways to make a name for herself.

Taira had never even taken his eyes off Elliot during this entire exchange.

His gaze was cold and methodical, and it made even his hypnotized pawn break out into a sweat.

"You do understand as the architect of this... Your death will be long and much more excruciating."

"I..." Elliot's brain was struggling now to suppress the overwhelming amount of fear and adrenaline running through his body.

His entire nervous system was now screaming at him to react. To run. To hide until the end of days.

But he could do any of it. He just nodded his head like a good compelled dog.

Though the single tear that dropped from his eye confirmed that his soul was screaming.

Taira's lips parted gently as a glimmer of madness flickered over his vision.

I was angry with my friend; I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I watered it in fears, Night & morning with my tears: And I stunned it with smiles, and with soft deceitful wiles.

As he spoke his favorite poem, his words were so disturbingly gentle that the entire atmosphere became eerie.

Dan Master Hideyoshi stumbled forward- hoping to convince the foxkin to spare the life of his protege. Hoping in someway to get him to see that his disciples decisions were a direct result of his poor leadership.

He came no closer than two feet away from Taira before he was backhanded hard enough to instantly knock him unconscious.

And it grew both day and night. Till it bore an apple bright. And my foe held it shine, and he knew that it was mine.

The mark on Taira's forehead began to glow a dark pink. This light spread to the tattoos and markings all across his body.

His claws pierced Elliot's chest. He pushed his hand deeper and deeper until he could fully wrap his fingers around his spine.

Elliot's body shook horribly. He was clearly in the worst pain of his life, but he couldn't cry out.

The very texture of his body began to change.

His skin hardened and developed a wood-like texture. He took on a rigid posture as his fingers snapped, twisted, and elongated.

His shoes could no longer hold his feet, so they popped right open.

Like his hands, they twisted and mangled themselves together; jamming themselves into the ground like they were taking root.

Finally, Elliot suffered such a torrential amount of pain that the compulsion broke.

A bloodcurdling scream ripped through the air and changed the very energy of the island forever.

Almost none could hear Taira's words over the sounds of anguish. The only ones who were aware of what was being said were the women who already knew the poem's contents.

And into my garden stole, when the night had veiled the pole; In the morning glad I see; My foe outstretched beneath the tree.