Mutant awakening: My evolution knows no bounds

Back in the Backyard of the Main Academy's Building

Silas stood resolutely, his eyes fixed on Vic, who remained eerily unscathed. Though Silas had landed numerous punishing blows, each one meant to damage and incapacitate, Vic's injuries disappeared almost immediately, his body regenerating with supernatural efficiency.

"His regeneration ability is insane. His healing speed surpasses mine by far," Silas thought grimly. His gaze didn't waver as he observed Vic's unrelenting charge, the creature's claws gleaming in the dim light.

Vic's dash forward was a blur of movement, his speed unnaturally swift. In the blink of an eye, he closed the gap between them, his vicious claws streaking through the air in a lethal arc.

The claws hissed as they sliced through empty space. At the last possible moment, Silas tilted his head aside, narrowly avoiding the deadly strike. The claws missed by mere inches, the sharp wind of their passage grazing his cheek.

In a seamless motion, Silas seized the opportunity. His hand shot out, gripping Vic's extended arm like a steel vice. With a surge of strength, he twisted sharply, putting his full power into the motion.

A sickening crack echoed through the yard, the sound of bone snapping under immense force. Vic's right arm hung limp, twisted unnaturally, like a rope frayed beyond repair. Yet Vic's expression remained chillingly blank. There was no cry of pain, no flinch of discomfort. It was as if his body didn't register injury.

Silas's eyes narrowed. He wasn't surprised; Vic's stoic disregard for damage had persisted since the fight began.

Without hesitation, Vic countered with his left arm, claws swiping in a brutal, sweeping motion. Silas danced to the side with practiced grace, narrowly evading the attack. His heart pounded, but his movements remained fluid, controlled.

Just as Silas steadied himself, Vic's broken arm lashed out again. Silas's eyes widened briefly. The once-shattered limb was whole, regenerated with disturbing speed. The claws tore through the air, aiming for Silas's chest.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"Hmm…" Silas noted, sidestepping once more. His mind processed the pattern as he countered with a sharp jab to Vic's ribs. The blow connected, sending Vic staggering backward.

Vic barely paused before charging again, his movements a blur. His claws whistled through the air, a flurry of strikes aimed to overwhelm.

"His speed… it's slowing down," Silas muttered, his voice tinged with realization. He leapt back, creating a gap between them. Vic's claws met only empty air, the sound of their passage fading like a ghost's whisper.

Landing gracefully, Silas summoned his scythe. The weapon materialized with a whisper of dark energy, the blade gleaming with deadly promise. He tightened his grip, the cold metal grounding him as he prepared for Vic's relentless advance.

Vic charged once more, his eyes wild, his face a mask of savage determination. Silas waited, his muscles coiled like a spring. At the precise moment Vic entered his range, Silas swung his scythe with a decisive, full-force arc.

SLASH!

The blade cleaved through flesh and bone with surgical precision, severing Vic's right arm at the shoulder. Blood sprayed in a crimson torrent, the severed limb hitting the ground with a wet thud.

Without hesitation, Silas leapt back again, his eyes never leaving Vic. He waited, calculating, watching for Vic's next move.

Moments passed. The dismembered arm on the ground shuddered, then disintegrated into fine dust, the particles vanishing into the night air. From the stump of Vic's shoulder, a new arm began to grow, sinew and bone knitting together at a slower pace than before.

"His regeneration is faltering," Silas noted, his eyes narrowing. "The more he heals, the more his strength drains. That's why his movements slow each time he recovers."

Vic's renewed advance was clumsy now, his once-lethal speed reduced to a stumbling gait. His limbs moved with the awkwardness of a newborn foal, his power waning visibly.

Silas dismissed his scythe, the weapon vanishing into the ether. He cracked his knuckles, his expression cold and resolute. Vic lunged forward, his punch sloppy and desperate. Silas blocked it effortlessly with his left arm and delivered a brutal counterpunch.

BAM!

His fist smashed into Vic's face, a bone-crunching impact that echoed through the yard. The force of the blow fractured Vic's skull and sent him soaring through the air like a discarded doll.

Vic's body collided with a trash can, the metallic crash reverberating in the night. He crumpled to the ground, motionless for several moments before staggering to his feet. His nose was mangled, blood gushing down his face in thick rivulets. Even as his broken skull began to knit itself back together, he dropped to his knees, his limbs trembling with exhaustion.

Silas watched, his face impassive, as Vic struggled to rise. Every movement was an effort, his stamina spent, his body betraying him.

Vic summoned the last dregs of his strength to stand, his breath ragged. His eyes blazed with impotent fury, but his legs refused to carry him forward. He remained rooted, panting and growling softly.

"You did your best, Vic," Silas said coldly. "You were a good fighter. But I'm better." His voice dropped, tinged with regret. "I'm sorry it has to end like this. You've become a monster, a danger to everyone. Keeping you alive will only bring harm to others. I know who you were. You wouldn't want innocent blood on your hands."

He clenched his fist, resolve hardening in his eyes.

[Active Skill: Soul Jab Activated]

A glowing blue energy flared around his fist, the luminescence spreading like wildfire. The yard was bathed in an eerie glow, the light growing more intense with each passing second.

TWOOOMMM!

Silas shot forward like a missile, the ground cracking beneath his feet. In an instant, he closed the distance, his right arm drawn back for the final, decisive blow.

"Silas?"

The soft, trembling voice froze him mid-strike. He didn't need to turn to know who it was. He knew that voice the instant he heard it.

Angelica.

Lowering his fist, Silas turned slowly. Angelica stood a few meters away, tears glistening in her eyes. Her face was a mask of fear and sadness, her expression pleading.

"What are you doing here, Angelica? You should be inside. Stay in your room like the staff told you," Silas said, his voice calm but firm.

"What's going on, Silas? What's happening here?" Angelica stammered, her voice trembling. Her eyes found Vic, and she gasped. "Is… is that… Vic?"

Vic's face, a grotesque amalgamation of fur and scales, was barely recognizable. Yet Angelica, through sheer force of familiarity and hope, still saw the friend she once knew.