The Crack In Heaven [A LitRPG Progression Fantasy] Chapter 45: Chapter 45: The First Strike is the Only One That Matters

Read chapter 45 of The Crack In Heaven [A LitRPG Progression Fantasy] by Adamus_Auguste on NovelPedia.

Chapter 45: The First Strike is the Only One That Matters Wide-eyed, Kael stiffly nodded at Els. Whether Joss was an exiled priest of Morvana's church or the leader of the fallen Ragged Crown didn't matter. He was a threat. His eyes trailed from Joss to linger on Tonio, then back to the ledger hovering beside him. You chose to break your anchor to save us. I'm glad Joss knocked you out before you did. This is my choice... and your teachings, Tonio. "What are you looking at, heretic?" Joss flung his blade to the ground, hurling sparks toward Kael without moving from his spot. He didn't need to. He towered between Kael and the doorway, the rat-man at his mercy, the girl in his machete's reach. Kael knew how it must have looked to Joss: him staring at the junk wall behind the ledger. But his gaze locked on a single entry woven in sky-blue ink. An unowned truth. I wanted more time to experiment, but I met all the conditions. It's not a desperate gamble or a wild hope; it's my chance to beat his predictions. Clenching his jaw, he tore his gaze from his ledger. He raised his hand, his left foot leaving the pavement in a forward step. Joss lowered his posture, his calm grey eyes darting across Kael's body as if searching for something until his gaze found Kael's right hand, the one he clutched the knife with. Kael didn't pause, didn't even slow. His mind excavated memories he tried to keep buried: the night Tovin stabbed him, his refusal of death, and the sensation of anchoring a truth. Bind it to something in his body first. To what? His foot hovered mid-air, his wounds bleeding his energy out. It was exhausting to move, to think. Exhaustion then. Now, the vow—the core he thought about. He screamed it in his mind... until the sound of Joss' machete raising faded... until the sound of the flickering lamppost vanished... until the vow swallowed even the sound of his own ragged breath. The first strike is the only one that matters! His foot remained suspended, slowing to a crawl. The anchor of his endurance throbbed painfully, rejecting the folly he enforced upon it. A folly he chose. A folly he embraced. Across from him, Joss already began to swing, his machete sealing every angle. It would hit him the moment his foot hit the ground, before he even began his own swing. Predicted again. What if... the parameters changed? The first strike is the only one that matters! He roared this time, steeling his will against himself, against the world. The throb of his anchor spread in an invisible outward wave. And the world answered by shoving the wave back inside him. It dug past the anchor of endurance in his mind, cracking it dangerously as it travelled down. It warmed his head, neck, and chest, settling behind his heart. It compressed itself dozens, hundreds, thousands of times, locking the core of this new truth in an anchor that beat like an ethereal organ. Something was wrong: a feeling, a pull down, while endurance pulled up. Both anchors tore him in that heartbeat of frozen time. His mouth slowly opened, words of plea forming in his throat. He shoved them down, anger searing his marrow. His eyes caught the doorway behind Joss. A golden glow erupted from the frame, whispering that escape was the only answer as his raised foot shifted. What on the pile of dung he was born in... The doorway... cross it, survive on your own. His fingers loosened around his knife. He gripped it hard enough to engrave the metallic patterns of the hilt on his palm. Something's messing with my mind. Friction between truths? Curse your incompatibility. I'm stabbing Joss. Now. The hesitation slithered to a corner of his mind, inactive. Waiting. Urgency to flip his ledger open for answers replaced it, but he ran out of time. Time... Wait! The anchoring couldn't have slowed time, or Joss would have killed him the moment it ended. The damn hesitation lasted for three seconds on its own. So, why was he still standing? He gazed ahead and almost choked on his breath. T