Popular Darth I Am

"Me?" Trent asked, glancing around indifferently. Obviously, she was referring to him. His unreal appearance contrasted sharply with theirs, who seemed more raw, blending with the Paradox atmosphere. No one would mistake him for anyone else.

"You are dressed in a gaming skin and possess a gaming companion, yet I sense a high Mana within you. Enlighten me on this Manifestation you have channelled your Essence into, for it is beyond my knowledge," she said, adjusting her threatening stance as her firm breasts swayed within her suit. "Identify yourself and state your purpose in this inn, Darth, for you are unknown."

'She seems to be smart and knowledgeable, not only about this world, but my game as well,' Trent thought as he gently stroked Claw, who had just taken its position on his shoulders. "As far as I know, Darth Assassins always come looking for something or someone. You knew I might be in this region beforehand—who sent you?" Trent asked in a firm tone.

The Devil's neutral black lips bent into a frown, and she exchanged a brief glance with the Darth Lieutenant, giving a subtle nod.

With a swift but simple motion, the Lieutenant thrust one arm and one leg forward concurrently, releasing a wave of Essence that flooded the room. The calm golden lamps shook with an unreal wind as their colours seamlessly transitioned to green, casting an eerie atmosphere over the inn.

Trent frowned. 'Is that supposed to scare me?' he thought, glancing at the ogres, devils, and gnomes in the inn—all of whom had frightened expressions. Surely, he expected more.

"Under the orders of Reading 2, Section 55A of the Assassin Volumes, incorporated into the Darth Society..." the devil began, her voice steady as she removed her outerwear, revealing a tighter battle suit adorned with shoulder and arm patches. Her red skin contrasted sharply with the long dark forearm gloves she wore. The dwarf beside her obediently took the garment from her. /img./

She stood magnificently, owning the title Darth Assassin with her short black hair like Ascezeca's, but with a more slimmer figure that made her bust stand out even more. "...I am hereby granting myself the right to Manifest upon my fellow Darth, who has gone rogue, and to forcefully set thee on the right path to the Clan's darkness and will, by fire and blood," she finished, her hand flexing as red veins bulged beneath her skin. Her black nails seemed to grow longer as a green, plasmic flame-like material conjured around her hand.

The indigenes in the inn began to panic. The whores were the first to scramble out through the back door, followed by the heavy ogres. Everyone sensed the imminent danger, and the inn quickly emptied, the sound of hurried footsteps echoing against the wooden floor. Trent took a quick glance at the female elf behind him. "Don't go too far, brown cake. You're my reward after this fight."

"I will not let my establishment become one of your fighting pits! Take him and leave us!" the Bartender, whom Trent had just realized owned the inn, shouted at the top of his voice. The devil, however, merely swirled her fingers and whispered something under her breath. A green magical chain coiled around the minotaur's mouth, silencing him instantly.

She refocused concentration on Trent, taking one long leg forward with the energy dancing around her palm.

'Ohkayy! Let's see what this goddess has actually made me become. I invite my Mana, I channel it as Essence to Manifest an ability, nothing I can't handle," he muttered to himself, closing his eyes briefly. He brought both palms to his chest, centering his focus. 

With a deep breath, he separated his hands, and a streak of red plasmic energy, similar to the she-devil's but far more potent, evolved between his palms, growing in intensity as his hands stretched apart.

[Essence Channelled!]

"Impossible," the devil whispered with her eyes wide.

Trent's Essence was much more denser and larger in plasmic size, meaning he could manifest greater things unimaginable. She screamed with a war cry and ran towards him, leaping with her Essence as she manifested in the air. A bolt of lightning split the dark sky of Paradox, crashing through the inn's roof and powering her descending fist. "[Arceneaux Bolt]!" she yelled as the lightning charged her attack.

For Trent, it all happened in slow motion. He could see her fist, crackling with the raw power of lightning, hurtling toward him. Her black eyes blazed with determination, but Trent remained calm. He casually sidestepped, letting her attack slam into the wooden floor instead. The impact sent dust and debris flying into the air. 

Before the devil knew it, a hand saturated with channelled Essence, grabbed her wrist, which was still embedded in the floorboards.

She looked up at him, her gaze meeting the cold, expressionless glare of his visors. 'Sexy devil.' Trent squeezed her wrist so hard that the bones cracked, before swinging her like a stone tied to a rubber and executing a perfect trajectory that sent the Darth Assassin through the roof and into the air.

"Hugh!" The Elvarian Darth Lieutenant growled, powering himself with Essence just as Trent turned his gaze to the remaining team.

The elf performed some acrobatic moves before lunging at Trent, shooting unmanifested Essence in the form of fiery balls. Trent dodged them with slight jerks of his body, the beams cutting close across his ear. Enraged, the elf gathered more Essence, spinning to release a larger, more powerful blast with a yell. Trent responded with a spin of his own, [stealing] the elf's Essence midair, transitioning it into his and redirecting it back.

The elf was blasted through the wooden wall near the door, his chest sizzling with burns.

Now, Trent focused on the other Darth Sentinels. The two ogres charged toward him, manifesting their only capability—a massive axe-like weapon, engulfed in raw Essence. Being poor Mana Keepers, this was the extent of their Essence channelling.

With Essence still orbiting his palms, Trent materialized steps beneath his feet to quicken his pace as he ran toward them. Leaping from the steps, he joined his palms, transitioning the Essence into a raw weapon that effortlessly shattered the large axe of the first ogre, dispersing it into green Essence energy. This gave Trent the space to land on the indigene's head.

Without hesitation, Trent sank his newfound blade into the large skull of the ogre, using its shoulders as leverage to evade the swing of the other ogre, who accidentally sliced away half of his brother. With Essence channelled to his shins, Trent struck the temple of the second ogre.

Trent landed gracefully on his feet, this time channelling his Essence with precision before swinging a punch charged with immense power. "[Doublet Fist]!" he called out, driving his fist into the belly of the ogre.

[Doublet Fist] was a Manifestation that delivered a delayed secondary strike, following the initial physical hit. This secondary strike, infused with a concentrated mass of raw Essence, led to a devastating interior explosion.

As Trent's fist connected, the ogre's body quivered before exploding into a spray of blood and flesh, leaving nothing but scattered remains in front of the horrified dwarf.

'Such power!' the dwarf thought, trembling. "What are you? Have mercy, I beg."

Trent's gaze fell on the short indigene. The dwarf hadn't attacked, so Trent saw no reason to kill him. Instead, he curled his fingers, and a chain of energy spiralled around the dwarf's small wrists, binding him just as the devil had done to the minotaur, who watched everything unfold from the side.

Stepping over the carcasses and pools of blood, Trent opened the door of the inn and walked out onto the cobblestone street, determined not to cause further damage to the minotaur's establishment. Claw fluttered closely behind him.

His eyes locked on the distant horizon, where his fellow Darth was still hurtling through the sky. Trent propelled himself upward with a burst of red Essence, rocketing toward her rapidly descending figure.