Chapter 90: Pushback

The Mind Geist looked less like a creature and more like a mistake that had been allowed to grow.

A gigantic mold of flesh had overtaken the cavern, swollen and cancerous, spreading from floor to ceiling like a grotesque infection.

There was no clear boundary where its body ended and the cavern began, walls, ground, and ceiling were all fused together by layers of pale, semi-translucent meat.

Thick folds sagged downward, while others stretched upward, anchoring themselves like roots driven into stone.

It didn’t move in any conventional sense.

Instead, it pulsed.

Slowly at first…

thump… thump…

Each pulsation sent ripples through the flesh-lined cavern, the walls flexing as if the place itself were breathing. But the moment Adam stepped fully into the chamber, the rhythm changed.

The pulsations became deliberate, frantic, as though the thing had finally found prey worth acknowledging.

Veins lit up beneath its surface, glowing faintly as waves of psychic pressure rolled outward, washing over Adam again and again.

Adam narrowed his eyes.

“Good thing I didn’t take the manager’s words at face value.”

He stared straight at the monstrosity, his voice calm despite the oppressive pressure gnawing at the edges of his thoughts.

“So you’re not a Normal Level 1 after all,” he said flatly. “You’re a Normal Level 2.”

The flesh rippled violently in response.

The Mind Geist reacted, not with sound, but with intent. Invisible tendrils of thought lashed out, trying to worm their way into Adam’s consciousness. Memories were tugged at. Emotions stirred. Doubt whispered at the back of his mind.

It barely worked.

Adam only felt mild discomfort, like a pressure headache threatening to bloom, but nothing more. He exhaled slowly, steadying himself.

“Is that all?”

Through [Connect], the truth was already clear to him.

A mob unit.

Normal Level 2.

Star Power: 16.

Exactly the same as his.

That alone made this fight dangerous.

Adam didn’t rush in. He didn’t underestimate it. Matching star power meant this wasn’t a slaughter, it was a real fight, and he knew better than to charge blindly at something that specialized in mind-based attacks.

His lips curled slightly.

“Henry was let off easy for all this nonsense,” he said coldly. The thought of that man dying instantly now felt like mercy.

Adam shifted his footing, muscles tightening as he entered a proper battle stance.

With a smooth motion, he brought out the black iron–grade conduit he had taken from Vanessa. The weapon hummed faintly as essence flowed into it, responding far more eagerly than any dirty bronze conduit ever had.

The black iron–grade conduit in Adam’s hands felt nothing like the dirty bronze weapons he was used to.

It was a scythe.

Forged from dull, matte-black iron, it carried a brutal, utilitarian elegance, no ornamentation or ceremonial flair.

The metal didn’t gleam; it swallowed light, its surface covered in a rough, hammered texture that looked like it had been beaten into submission rather than refined.

Along the spine of the curved blade ran a series of thick reinforcement ribs, adding mass and rigidity, clearly designed for bone-snapping power instead of finesse.

The balance was unmistakably top-heavy.

This wasn’t a weapon meant for delicate cuts or graceful arcs.

It was meant to tear, hook, and crush.

The shaft was thick, wrapped in dark grip bindings worn smooth by use, and when Adam closed his hand around it, the sensation was immediate…

It was like gripping a predator’s claw.

Adam exhaled slowly.

He hadn’t used a scythe much. During the one-month training period, he’d only practiced a handful of movements, wide sweeps, short hooks, and leverage-based strikes. It was never his preferred weapon.

But right now?

It would have to do.

He lowered into a battle stance, feet spread, knees bent, the scythe angled diagonally across his body. Essence flowed into the conduit, the black iron responding with a low, muted hum.

The Mind Geist reacted instantly.

Its pulsations intensified, no longer rhythmic but frantic, the entire cavern shuddering as the walls flexed in unison. The fleshy surface rippled violently…

…and then exploded into motion.

Fwish! Fwish! Fwish!

From multiple points along the walls, ceiling, and floor, tendrils of meat shot out at once.

Thick, rope-like strands lashed forward, each one pulsing with psychic pressure, the air distorting as they closed in on Adam from every direction.

“Shit.”

There was no time to reposition.

The tendrils hit him head-on.

It almost looked as if the tendrils had him.

They wrapped tighter, constricting, layers of wet flesh closing in from every angle…

But Adam burst out the next moment.

Rapid E detonated through his legs and spine, his movement speed spiking violently as he tore free before the tendrils could fully enclose him.

Essence screamed through his muscles, and in the same breath Poison F flooded the scythe, the black iron blade taking on a faint, sickly sheen.

Adam didn’t retreat.

He charged.

Straight toward the pulsing mass of flesh at the center, reckless abandon replacing caution as he crossed distance in a blur, scythe drawn back for a killing arc.

The Mind Geist reacted instantly.

More tendrils lashed out, faster this time, smarter. One snapped toward his head, Adam dipped under it by instinct, the wind from the strike grazing his hair as he spun and cleaved upward. The scythe bit deep, severing the tendril in a spray of viscous fluid.

But two more replaced it.

They slammed into his side, forcing him back mid-stride.

Adam snarled and met them head-on.

Steel and flesh collided as he hacked, hooked, and tore through the tendrils with brutal efficiency.

He didn’t fight like a scythe wielder, he fought like Adam, using momentum, leverage, and raw force. Rapid E didn’t just make him faster; it gave him control, letting him adjust mid-swing, redirect strikes, and keep his balance even as the ground pulsed beneath him.

Tendrils fell in chunks.

Poison seeped into the severed flesh, the cut ends blackening unnaturally as the toxin spread.

But the Geist didn’t relent.

A sudden headache detonated behind Adam’s eyes.

His thoughts staggered as something invasive and cold clawed at the edges of his mind.

The Mind Geist pushed harder, its psychic assault sharpening, trying to slip through the smallest crack.

Adam gritted his teeth, as he forced the intrusion back, but that split second was enough.

One tendril slipped past his defense and struck him square in the torso.

The impact was catastrophic.

Adam was launched backward like a cannonball, his body smashing into the cavern wall with bone-rattling force.

BOOM!

The fleshy surface rippled violently on impact as cracks spiderwebbed outward, and Adam dropped to one knee, coughing as the air was driven from his lungs.

For a moment, the cavern went quiet.

The Mind Geist’s pulsations slowed,

as if savoring the moment.

Adam pushed himself up, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, scythe still clenched in his hand.

His eyes lifted.

And he smiled.

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