The moment their eyes met,
Clang!
A tarot card, its face depicting an angel with a horn, flew like a throwing knife, striking the sewer wall sharply exactly at the height where Lanevus's neck had been a moment before.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Lanevus rolled, side-stepped, or lunged forward with astonishing agility, dodging three cards in quick succession. The cards struck the wall, the stone slabs, and the cement with a metallic clang.
Simultaneously, from the corner of his eye, he saw the man wearing the clown mask following closely, his speed no slower than his own. The man held a thick deck of cards in one hand, deftly dealing them with the other.
The sun on the card, which had sprouted facial features, came into view. Lanevus pushed off the wall with his left hand, leaping into the air and sharply changing direction. Just then, he heard a whoosh, and a sharp pain shot through his ankle!
"Dealt two cards? One was slightly delayed, aimed perfectly at the direction I dodged? Can he predict my moves?" Lanevus's heart clenched. The moment he landed, he rolled again despite the pain.
Clang!
In the spot he had just occupied, another tarot card was embedded, trembling violently.
Only then did Lanevus notice the card deeply embedded in his right ankle, 'The Star', its depiction of a star, the Water Bearer, and holy water already stained bright red.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Lanevus had no time to even consider treating his injuries. One by one, the tarot cards became sharp throwing knives, shooting at different parts of his body.
Soon, his injuries, the lingering effects of the void in his chest and abdomen, and the previous semi-divine collision began to slow him down — even though he was Sequence 9 'Thief', renowned for his speed and agility.
Slap! He knocked a card away, but a deep wound was cut into his wrist, a wound that continuously bled.
The Nighthawks and military personnel would be here soon. He couldn't delay any longer! At this moment, Lanevus's mind was unusually clear.
Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks, no longer evading. He let a card depicting the 'Devil' accurately hit his neck.
In an instant, the cards embedded in his body were repelled. The hideous wounds on his neck, right chest, wrist, and ankle writhed with flesh, sprouting a mass of disgusting granulation!
Lanevus's skin immediately pimpled with dense bumps. They glinted with an iron color, seeming to form a full-body suit of armor.
Clang! A tarot card shot over was directly deflected by the dense bumps.
Lanevus, his eyes stained blood-red, looked at the Clown who had stopped his actions and put away his cards, and said with a half-smile, half-sneer: "Regardless, after being toyed with by a god, there's always some gain."
Before the words left his mouth, he kicked off with his left foot, leaping over the flowing filthy water and pouncing on his opponent.
Klein, wearing the 'Clown' mask, sidestepped as if he had expected it, pulled his left hand from his pocket, clenched it into a fist, and shot it like a cannonball towards Lanevus's temple.
Bang!
Lanevus turned sideways, swung his elbow, and raised his forearm to precisely counter the opponent's punch. The violent power came like a flash flood. Klein was pulled off balance by the force, staggering.
Slap! Slap! Slap!
One crisp explosion after another burst by Klein's ear. Punches, faster and faster, heavier and heavier, flashed before his eyes.
He seemed to forget keeping his balance, letting the stumble turn into a dive to the side, then using his left elbow for support, he changed direction with a roll.
Slap slap slap! Bang bang bang!
Lanevus punched and kicked, fast and fierce. Klein was almost hit several times, but he always managed to dodge by relying on his exaggerated sense of balance and seemingly contortionist moves. One moment he was on the wall, the next on the ground, almost like performing a circus act.
He remained very calm, not at all impatient, as if determined to prolong the fight until the Nighthawks and military men caught up.
Yet whenever Lanevus showed signs of trying to flee, Klein would immediately hamper him, giving him no chance.
Slap! A punch from Lanevus forced Klein to bounce off the wall like a flying trapeze artist. Lanevus himself, without hesitation, turned and fled down another passage.
Klein tapped the ground with his toes, his body about to shoot out like a cannonball straight at Lanevus's back. At that moment, a scene suddenly flashed in his mind: "Lanevus, as if boneless, twisted his torso around forcibly and punched him." This was the Clown's intuition, a presentiment!
Without a moment's hesitation, Klein deliberately lessened the force of his lunge. With a slap, he still sprang forward, but much more weakly than intended.
Crack! With a grating, spine-chilling sound, Lanevus had twisted his upper body back without moving his legs, his face facing directly backward while his toes pointed forward.
Amidst this horrifying sight, Lanevus punched forward, swinging at Klein's head with such force that the air let out an explosive roar.
Boom! His fist struck the empty air, still twenty or thirty centimeters from Klein's face. The force of the blow ruffled Klein's hair. But instead of using this opportunity to attack, Klein deeply and hoarsely chanted a word in Ancient