Transmigration: I Made A Deal With A Man in Yellow

I raised my free hand, and dozens of black spikes immediately erupted from the ground in Sister Friede’s direction. She darted sideways before they could reach her, weaving past the rising spikes before suddenly changing direction and rushing straight toward me. Her scythe followed with a horizontal slash aimed at my side, but I had already positioned mine to intercept it.

Clang!

The blades collided, sending black and white-blue sparks scattering between us. I immediately shifted the position of my hands along the shaft and used the momentum from the block to counter with a slash of my own.

Sister Friede pulled her scythe back and repositioned it across her body, catching my attack against the shaft. Instead of continuing to push against her, I suddenly planted the butt of my scythe into the marble floor. With both hands gripping the shaft, I used it as support to swing my body forward and drive both feet toward her chest.

As expected, Sister Friede reacted quickly. She pulled the shaft of her scythe in front of herself just before my boots could connect with her body.

Bang!

My feet slammed against the weapon instead, and the force sent her skidding backward several meters.

She barely had time to stop.

Dozens of black spikes were already erupting from the ground around her.

Sister Friede lowered her body slightly before bursting forward. Her figure became a blur as she charged through the field of spikes, her scythe moving alongside her with frightening speed. Every spike that entered her path was sliced cleanly in half before it could touch her, frost spreading across their severed ends as she continued advancing.

She was fast.

In only an instant, she had already crossed most of the distance between us.

But I had expected that.

Before Sister Friede could even enter the range of her scythe, my leg was already moving. I had kicked before she reached me, timing the attack based on the speed I knew she would approach with.

The sole of my boot appeared only inches from her face.

Sister Friede calmly tilted her head to the side, allowing my foot to pass beside her cheek. Her free hand immediately rose toward my extended leg, clearly intending to grab it.

Another mistake I had made before.

Not this time.

Before her fingers could wrap around my leg, a thin wall of darkness shot upward between us. Unlike the thick barriers I usually created for defense, this one was as thin as a sheet of paper, with an edge sharp enough to cut through flesh.

If she continued reaching for me, she would lose her arm.

Sister Friede immediately pulled her hand back.

That brief hesitation was all I needed.

I retracted my leg, stepped into her range, and swung my scythe toward her chest.

Swoosh!

The black blade tore through the air.

Sister Friede didn’t have enough time to properly reposition her own weapon, so instead of blocking with her scythe, she did something I hadn’t expected.

She reached forward.

Her fingers wrapped around the shaft of my scythe in the middle of the swing.

The blade stopped inches from her chest.

My eyes widened slightly.

What the hell?

I had put enough force behind that swing to break through a boulder, yet she had stopped it with one hand. Her slender fingers tightened around the shaft as though the force behind my attack meant absolutely nothing.

She was strong as hell.

For the briefest moment, I was genuinely caught off guard.

Sister Friede took advantage of it immediately.

With her superior strength, she yanked the scythe toward herself, dragging me along with it. Her other arm was already pulled back, and before I could release my weapon, her fist shot forward.

Thwack!

Her knuckles slammed directly into my chest.

The impact sent a violent shock through my armor and launched me backward. My fingers slipped from the shaft of the scythe as I was thrown several meters through the air.

I twisted my body and prepared to land on my feet.

Just before I touched the ground, I saw Sister Friede’s figure lean forward.

She was going to follow me.

Perfect.

Before she could take her first step, however, something suddenly stopped her left arm.

Stab! Stab! Stab!

Several wet sounds echoed throughout the church.

Sister Friede froze.

Crimson blood began dripping onto the marble floor.

Drip. Drip.

I landed in a crouch and slowly raised my head.

Sister Friede looked down at her left arm.

Dozens of thin black spikes had erupted from the shaft of the scythe she was still holding, piercing straight through her hand and forearm before protruding from the other side. At the same time, the lower end of the weapon had changed shape, extending downward until a thick black tentacle reached the floor and wrapped tightly around her arm.

For the first time since I had met her, Sister Friede looked genuinely stunned.

"This..." Her gaze remained fixed on the spikes buried in her flesh. "Impossible."

I slowly stood up.

A smile spread across my face when I saw her crimson blood dripping from the tips of the spikes.

Finally...I had made her bleed.

"You didn’t expect me to be able to change the shape of my scythe after creating it, did you?"

Sister Friede didn’t answer.

She simply stared at her injured arm.

Her silence was enough.

More darkness spread across the marble beneath her feet. Several tentacles emerged from the ground and immediately wrapped around her legs before another twisted itself around her free arm, pulling everything tight and locking her in place.

I began walking toward her.

"It was pretty stupid of you to grab my weapon like that." My smile widened. "Did you forget that this scythe is part of my power?"

Of course, I couldn’t completely blame her.

That was exactly what I had wanted her to think.

Throughout the entire fight, I had treated the scythe like an ordinary weapon. Once I created it, I never changed its shape. I blocked with it, attacked with it, spun it around my body, and fought exactly as though it were a normal scythe.

Not once had I manipulated its form after creating it.

I had done that intentionally.

Sister Friede was extremely observant. The longer we fought, the more she would understand how my abilities worked, just as I had spent months understanding hers. So I had deliberately hidden one of the most useful aspects of [Darkness Shaping].

My constructs weren’t permanent.

As long as they remained under my control, I could change their shape.

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