Raising My Trash Ability into a Broken SSS+ Rank Skill Chapter 659 The Parasite

[Spiritual Burst!]

[Spiritual Burst!]

[Spiritual Burst!]

Though Vritra's body felt frail, his mental power remained as potent as ever.

Burst after burst of psychic force targeted one of the fighters while Vritra charged straight at him.

Stalling for about thirty minutes was essential, yet during that period, he needed to eliminate every single one of them.

Morgan could pull off some schemes in the meantime, which is why Vritra stayed extra cautious, keeping a chunk of his attention fixed on the gamer.

"Aghhhhh," the puppet-man gripped his skull and howled, since his spirit stat was pretty weak.

Without Vritra restraining himself, the guy would likely be gone already.

WHOOSH

Blood sprayed as the spear plunged into his leg, yet the puppet ignored the bodily hurt, merely stumbling away.

THUD

Right then, the hammer smashed into Vritra's rear, serving mainly as a distraction.

Wild energy surged wildly inside him, the fusion turning risky, when abruptly, veins burst open across his back.

'Just five minutes gone by…' he mused, his frame trembling with greater intensity.

'He's outperforming what I thought, yet seeming frailer too…?' Morgan observed the clash, unsure whether Vritra came off as powerful or feeble.

Those feeble strikes had hurt this fellow so readily, with his form appearing ready to crumble.

Still, he held his own against the octet, repeatedly harming those dudes—it simply didn't add up.

No matter what scheme this individual had in mind, Morgan held his counter-strategies, and such a skirmish suited him fine.

'Drag it out however long you like; I pondered sparing a bit of your awareness, but now you'll end up as yet another minion in my crew.'

A slender, thread-thin strand began snaking across the floor, utterly unseen by ordinary sight.

It sped toward Vritra, and precisely when he retreated, it jabbed into the rear of his nape.

Amid the combat and agony, he failed to detect it at all.

Turning folks into puppets via this power proved incredibly potent; victims stayed oblivious, and before long, their recollections and sense of self would vanish.

Its sole drawback was the required duration, but thanks to this showdown, Vritra supplied plenty.

"Brother, you sure a-are tough. But HUFF HUFF, unfortunately, you c-can't join them. If you just die, a-all those women will be s-safe." Butcher gasped out his words.

Numerous injuries marred his form, hindering his movements severely.

Lacking any innate physical prowess from the start, he simply lurked behind the seven fighters.

Terrified that Vritra could end him right there.

Throughout the brawl, he made sure to cast lecherous looks at the anxious females.

Though a blade sliced Vritra's limb, ignoring the gash, he thrust the dagger into one fellow's windpipe.

{Sin Point Gained: Killed a Mutant +5,021}

A notification flashed right in front of Vritra, prompting his immediate command:

'Spend 2,000 points for 1 Endurance stat point!'

Slaying that opponent had boosted his stats, but they fell a mere 0.1 shy of the century mark.

[You have obtained 1 Endurance Attribute Point!]

[All attributes have reached the threshold!]

[Merge with an Ascension Path to continue evolving!]

Notifications flooded his view in quick succession.

『

[Stats]

(Strength: 100)

(Agility: 100)

(Endurance: 100)

(Spiritual: 100)

{Free Attribute: 0}

』

{Sin Points: 3045}

'It's finished; now I only have to…' Vertigo crashed over Vritra out of nowhere, nearly toppling him while assaults rained from every side.

He planted his feet firmly, struggling to remain upright.

Could this stem from the fusion too?

No chance for reflection, with daggers and frozen edges nearly riddling his frame.

Battling vast swarms was something Vritra knew well, so handling this wasn't overly tough.

Yet in his present state, it felt akin to tackling a nightmare-mode challenge while handicapping the foes.

Morgan eyed the ladies warily as well, though the real threat present was solely Vritra.

BOOOM

Bracing against the sting of a thrust, Vritra bashed another's cranium with the spear's shaft, causing it to burst apart.

His form wobbled, sight dimming and tinting crimson, mind reeling.

Rattling his head, he gazed at them, only to spot duplicates of everyone.

Shutting one eye, Vritra sacrificed some accuracy, but it beat totally whiffing.

FAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!

Abruptly, a booming shout intensified his headache, anguish lancing into his core.

Noticing his strike land at last, Butcher brimmed with delight.

Leaping ahead, he drove the blade into Vritra's gut, then scurried away fast, dreading a spear skewer.

Vritra reeled away; this scum slinked rodent-like right after Vritra blocked a mallet.

Close to fifteen minutes elapsed, his state deteriorating at an alarming rate.

The compelled integration already drained him heavily, and without realizing, the intruder was impacting him too.

Witnessing Vritra battle so battered pierced Yasmine and the rest like knives.

Yet he'd warned them firmly against meddling, lest everyone perish—though their role loomed nearby.

The surviving quintet ignored their gashes; solely the psychic assaults swayed them.

Vritra persisted in unleashing Spiritual Burst, seizing those instants to maim or finish them off.

Skirting the edges barely, he impaled a man's midsection, the spear tip emerging from his skull's rear.

His blood control ability stayed concealed thus far, reserved for the fight's peak.

Just Butcher and four others left now. Two boasted power abilities, two tanked with endurance.

Dispatching them posed no great issue, save for that wretch Butcher slipping hits whenever Vritra tangled with the rest.

CLANG CLANG

Repelling the hammer, he then surged ahead in a flash of might and swiftness.

Vritra's fist tore into a brute-type foe's torso, yanking free his ticker, crimson trailing to the earth.

The gruesome view terrified Butcher, halting his rear strike attempt.

'What kind of beast is this? How's he still kicking? Mental strikes, top-tier guard, brute force, lightning pace—what's his true forte?'

Chills gripped Butcher's frame; he realized beyond doubt he couldn't rival Vritra.

Good thing last encounter avoided head-on clash; he'd bolted posthaste.

Small surprise he'd endured the river dump—he was insanely tough.

'Though I bet he's not matching that jerk's level.' He peeked at Morgan, whose face twisted in a nasty smirk.

That one looked scheming as well.

Vritra panted raggedly, misty breath escaping as he suppressed every agonized sound.

Even flames devouring him wouldn't match this torment; amid the chill air, his veins boiled like molten rock.

Hurling the organ aside, he eyed the leftover quartet, their figures riddled with cuts.

More than twenty-five minutes ticked by, and holding out longer grew uncertain.

"E-Explode." Vritra whispered, tottering before collapsing rearward, every ounce of vigor fleeing him.

❖❖❖

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