The murderous intent swirling around in Grey’s mind didn’t seem to have anywhere to go.
"Now go. Your Priest Trials only have a little under three months remaining, and I expect someone who wants to be my disciple to perform as such."
"Does this mean you will take me in, Bishop?"
A low chuckle echoed. "When I return from my Holy Retreat, we will reassess. Right now, you are not worthy. You have the disposition of a Holy Knight, and yet you have stumbled into Priesthood. I cannot explain this any other way other than Serendipity on your behalf. But following the path of Priesthood requires more than just luck, it requires talent. Prove that you have it."
Grey’s eyes flashed.
He didn’t even wait, the moment he heard the words, he burst into action, rounding the corner to see a specter and a young man dressed in robes of such a pure white they glowed their own way forward in the dense darkness.
"LET’S FUCKING GOOOO!" Grey howled as though he was at a sporting event, a wild grin spreading across his face. The scent of blood bloomed in the air.
He had never wanted to kill someone so much in his life.
At this point, he didn’t give a damn about anything else. If he had to waste a death on it, fine.
But since the Bishop had already proclaimed that he wasn’t here, Grey was going to take his chances.
"Who?!" The Bishop’s specter turned to face Grey in shock. He was a man who was well respected and hadn’t had to deal with any sort of pushback in decades. He ran things as he saw fit.
The idea of someone attacking while he was present, even as a projection, was ridiculous to him.
Joaquin’s eyes opened wide and he pulled out a staff. Reacting quickly, he immediately sent a barrage of golden bullets flying at Grey.
Grey’s gaze darted back and forth and then he twisted in the air, leaping and landing past them in the blink of an eye as though he had already seen past everything except for just one.
A bullet of energy flew right at his face, but before Joaquin could even celebrate, Grey’s jaw just unhinged and he bit down.
Chi.
The magic shattered to pieces, devoured in an instant that flooded into Grey’s Holy Frame and actually rebuffed his stamina.
A dagger drove into Joaquin’s gut.
Chi.
A skin of energy shattered to pieces and rather than being gutted, Joaquin was sent flying through the hallways of the catacombs.
"Stop right this instant!"
"Kick rocks, old bastard. I’ll save a dagger for your ass too."
Grey was already bounding after Joaquin, moving like the wind as though there wasn’t a single ache left in his body.
The Bishop was stunned into complete silence. Even when he was a child, people didn’t speak to him that way.
As for Joaquin, he didn’t have the mind to consider what Grey was saying at all. He was rolling along the ground, trying to regain his bearings, but he could already feel that Grey was closing in.
He gritted his teeth, rolling one more time to land on his feet, his toes grinding into the earth to slide to a halt. Without hesitation, he tossed his Priest’s staff to the side, and with a flip of his palm, a ring on his finger lit up to manifest a spear.
He took a strong step forward and thrust it right at Grey’s approaching throat.
Grey seemed to have dozens of pairs of eyes, each one sparking with arcs of electricity and each one viewing the same battle from a myriad of angles.
Then his body suddenly bowed like an arc. Iron Veil formed a plate along his back, giving his body an extra rigidness that maintained his balance just enough to slide past the thrust of Joaquin’s spear.
Grey’s grin was as wild as a child on Christmas morning.
"I’m going to gut you like a fucking fish."
His dagger curved up and through the air. Joaquin’s eyes widened, but once again, just when Grey’s dagger dug into robes and looked to slide a splitting gap from his belly button to his neck, a wall of Holy energy blocked it.
BOOM.
Behind Grey, Bishop Calixan’s projection flickered as though it might disappear any moment now. There was fury at both the incompetence of Joaquin and the audacity of Grey on his face, but he was just a projection. He only had a limited amount of Holy energy within him right now, and each use would send him closer to vanishing.
"STOP THIS INSTANT!" Calixan roared.
Grey’s head hit the ground, his arch finally failing him. But as though he hadn’t just smashed his skull against the hard earth, he flipped to his feet, his neck bulging with muscles he had trained all his life.
This time, though, those muscles were far stronger than they ever had been before.
What sort of fighter would he be had he never done any neck training?
He didn’t even spare the Bishop a glance.
"How many times can your daddy save you?"
Joaquin scrambled back to his feet, his hair disheveled. His usually pristine good looks and patented smile were nowhere to be seen. He was just a few pats of white makeup on the cheeks before he would make a good Joker. A few more hits and he might be a perfect Joker walking out of a hospital, wondering why the hell his detonator wasn’t working.
There probably wasn’t a sight other than a big set of boobs that could have made Grey any happier in this moment. He was almost grateful Joaquin wasn’t dead yet.
Chi.
Grey’s palms opened up and blood poured into his fang daggers. No matter how much fun he was having, he wouldn’t settle down until Joaquin’s head was on a fucking platter.
He had been waiting to kill this bastard for too long.
"Come here you little bitch." Grey charged, his Vampire Lord Frame activating in wild pulses of crimson.
He wasn’t going to let this bastard go anywhere.