I bring the shin gunto down with a heavy two handed chop as Naiberg charges towards me, his multiple grasping arms outstretched. The nudist responds by raising a pair of his arms and with a clapping motion, traps the sword's blade between his palms. As I struggle to free the blade from Naiberg's hands, the nudist slams my torso with a barrage of punches, causing my entire body to buck upwards thanks to the force of the blows. Gritting my teeth, I twist and pull at the sword hard, freeing it from Naiberg's grasp and lopping off several of his fingers in the bargain. 

"First blood is mine." I taunt, as I wave the shin gunto's blade before Naiberg's face, its surface stained crimson.

Naiberg snorts as his fingers regrow from the bleeding stumps. Wriggling his fresh set of fingers derisively at me, Naiberg's arms suddenly extend like rubber bands and lash out with a whipping motion. I manage to bring the sword up just in time to block the incoming attack, but the force of the blows forces me backwards. 

"Flesh is a weapon like any other." Naiberg lectures smugly, "Do you mourn when your sword is scratched or chipped from being used, Mr Gallant? Its the same for my body."

Naiberg's entire body begins spinning about, the centrifugal force creating a storm of fleshy, organic tentacles that lash my body relentlessly. The nudist is not doing a whole lot of damage, but the miniature typhoon of limbs prevents me from approaching him. Every time I try to rush at Naiberg, I am knocked aside by the momentum of the flailing limbs. With no other choices available, I slash wildly at the flying arms, hoping to gradually clear a path towards Naiberg's body itself. I just hope that I can keep up with his regeneration so that some kind of progress can be made. 

Blood sprays all over the floor as my sword slices and dices through Naiberg's arms, the limbs hitting the ground with wet thumps. Despite the occasional smack across the face, I doggedly press forward, slowly but surely closing the distance with the Nudist. Naiberg on his part is content to keep spinning about, heedless of the fact that his arms are not enough to keep me at bay. 

A slick, slimy sensation slides across my foot, but I am too preoccupied to pay any further attention to it. The feeling suddenly multiplies and something rubbery wraps itself around both my legs just as I am about to take another step forward, forcing me to stumble. Caught off guard, I desperately fight to keep my balance, but Naiberg whips out another fusillade of blows towards me, the impact sending me flying off my feet and on to my back. 

As I struggle to get back up, I realize that my legs have been bound fast by the squirming arms that I had severed from Naiberg's body. The severed arms have coiled themselves around my legs, with their hands gripping me tightly. My stomach churns at the sight of the nudist's face forming on the each of the arms, leering silently at me. Forcing the bile back down my throat, I look back up expecting to be smacked about some more by Naiberg.

Naiberg, contrary to my expectations, stops spinning about despite the fact that I am completely vulnerable right now. He instead assumes the limbo position, all the while thrusting his crotch at me vigorously. The faces that have grown out of the severed arms begin moaning suggestively and I feel Naiberg's fingers stroke my inner thigh. 

"I can't hold it in anymore." the faces of Naiberg murmur as a visible bulge forms at the main body's crotch. Hearing the nudist moan suggestively and seeing that crazy shit that makes my stomach sink and I immediately start slashing away at the severed arms in order to free myself. Damn, the hentai hero is Tensei, not me. Shouldn't he be the one dealing with all this?

The tattered remnants of Naiberg's pants explode from the pressure building at his crotch and his penis tears outwards, swollen and trembling. The organ trembles as it keeps growing, eventually reaching the size of one of Naiberg's legs. Naiberg groans in distress from the weight of the massively bloated dick as he takes a few lumbering steps in my direction, aiming his penis straight at me.

"Fuck." I mutter. 

"Yes. Mr Gallant." Naiberg groans as his penis trembles with increasing intensity, "Fuck indeed."

 The nudist's penis explodes in a shower of meat and from the wreckage emerges a bouquet of rainbow colored snakes growing out of his crotch. Hissing viciously, the rainbow snakes surge forward like a tidal wave, fangs bared hungrily. Crazed laughter emits from the faces on the severed arms as I brace myself for the attack. 

"Allow me, Transmigrator." The Voice rasps as the spider drone emerges from the shadows and leaps on to Naiberg's defenseless head. Still in his limbo position, Naiberg is knocked off balance by the drone and lands hard on the ground, thrashing fruitlessly about. The faces cry out in dismay as the rainbow snakes instinctively abort their attack in order to defend their master. 

"Get if off!" Naiberg shrieks in panic as the snakes sink their fangs into the drone and begin to pull, "Get it off!" 

The spider drone retaliates by digging its legs into Naiberg's face, drawing blood and managing to pierce bone. Naiberg's cries become more agonized as the snakes keep pulling at the now dug in drone, the force literally wearing away on his skull. Taking opportunity of this distraction, I slice through the last of the severed limbs and scramble back up to my feet. 

"Destroy the codex and proceed to extract." The Voice instructs, "My drones will handle the pretender."

"No." I refuse, "The codex is the means to separate myself from Gallant. I'm taking it with me."

The Voice hesitates for a moment before answering, "Very well. Make it quick. I am calling the construction drones to the landing area now."

I nod and rush towards the struggling body of Naiberg and bring the sword down on his crotch with a single clean stroke. Naiberg shrieks in pain as the snakes are severed from his body at the root and blood sprays outwards in a geyser. Grasping the snake bouquet, I fling the writhing mass at the flaming heap that was once the soul smasher. As the black flames devour the snakes, Naiberg hollers until his voice breaks completely, the drone latching on to his face completely forgotten. 

"You said it yourself," I comment dourly to the nudist, "Getting your body chipped or scratched is no big deal, right?"

I shuck off the trench coat and wrapping one of my arms around it, reach into the burning soul smasher to retrieve the codex. The trench coat catches fire immediately, but protects my arm long enough for me to pull the codex out of the blaze. The moment the codex is separated from the machine, it loses all power, sinking back into its former inert state. The only sign that it had been partially activated are the now lifeless petals that remain open on the codex's surface. 

Sheathing the sword and dropping the codex into my now free hand, I toss the burning trench coat at Naiberg's body as a farewell gift and spare a glance at both the Hero and the Idol. The Idol's still unconscious on the floor while the Hero has almost broken through the holding cell, his face bearing an almost psychotic expression. 

"They will be fine." The Voice states in a matter of fact fashion, "My drones will ensure their safety. Make haste."

If you say so boss man. Holding the codex securely in my hands, I charge down the corridor leading back to the landing area. The ragged remnants of the Judecca Militia flee past me in the direction of the lab, pursued by the scissor wolves, heedless of anything else going on around them. They are all going to die. I know it. The Voice will just keep spawning drones until it has performed a clean sweep. That's the price for picking the losing side, I suppose. 

I punch through the now abandoned barricade and make my way to the exposed landing area. Without the warmth offered by the trench coat, the chill wind causes goose bumps to rise across my skin. Turning to the skies and squinting into the distance, I see the formation of construction drones rapidly approaching the Tower. Right on time. 

"Its not over yet." a hoarse voice interrupts my thoughts.

A rush of spiritual pressure comes from somewhere behind me. I turn around and see nothing. My gaze turns to the left and right, but again nothing. 

"Down here." the hoarse voice snaps. 

I look down, and see a head crudely fused on to three severed arms that serve as makeshift legs. Naiberg's back for one final round? But no, the head is clearly not his. Not only is there no beard, there's an ugly jagged scar that cuts across one of the head's eyes. The creature begins padding towards me on its arm-legs and blazes its core menacingly. 

"Naiberg?" I ask, thoroughly unsure as to just what is going on. 

"No. Its Bobby." the head replies, smirking at a private joke. 

I narrow my eyes and tighten my grip on the codex as the spiritual pressure around me continues to build. The clouds in the sky begin to churn restlessly, stirred up by whatever the head is doing. 

"Sky's Judgment!" the head shouts at the top of its voice, unleashing a torrent of spiritual energy into its spell. 

And before I can react, the clouds break apart, and a single shaft of lightning lances towards the landing area.