An Hour Before Their Arrival
Professor Yvette once celebrated as a monstrous talent in the Runic Department, now found herself in a pitiful state.
Her hair, knotted and tangled, mirrored the disarray of the once brilliant Inscriptionist Magi. Despite her fervent shouts, her captors did not respond. For days, Yvette had begged for a moment of cleanliness, but her requests were ignored.
In the shadowed corridor, Yvette halted abruptly. A fractured mirror on the wall caught her reflection—a visage so altered it was almost unrecognizable. The sight of her ravaged condition held her in place.
"Where has her grace gone?" she murmured, staring at the spectral image—a skeletal figure with tangled hair like a bird's nest, yellowing teeth, festering boils, and a twisted nose.
"This can't be real," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "It must be some sort of trickery."
The two masked figures emerged from the shadows.
"What have you done to me?" Yvette demanded, her voice cracking. Anger and fear wove through her words as she struggled against the suppression chains binding her.
"You desired to play tricks; I have no choice but to challenge you! Trial by combat!" she shouted, desperation lending force to her proclamation.
The dungeon walls absorbed her voice, the eerie silence amplifying her words. Yvette's mind raced.
Curses required something personal, but she couldn't fathom how anyone could have cursed her; her interactions in the dungeon had been sparse, almost nonexistent.
"In the event of my defeat, I pledge a decade of soul servitude! Let Mother Ona bear witness to my oath!" Yvette declared, her voice firm and clear, echoing through the darkened passage.
The 176 centimeters, Yvette cast off the shroud of despair that had briefly enveloped her.
Her words hung in the air, creating a tangible pause. Invoking such a pledge handed her fate to the whims of a deity, but her pride refused to accept the hideous image before her. She would not be reduced to a mere ghoul by some malicious curse.
Yvette took immense pride in her beauty, to an almost unnatural degree. The thought of being hideous was unbearable.
Unnoticed, a slight grin formed on Nuu's lips. 'It really was that easy,' Nuu chuckled to himself
Yvette had done it. Oga was left speechless, this woman was truly conceited.
Nuu knew far more about this passionate woman than she could ever imagine.
Yvette had fallen for his perfect hypnosis, along with meeting one of the two requirements to activate the Thousand Eyes, the intended target must gaze upon the blood-dripping Bonair, or at a certain point Nuu's hands make direct contact with said person's skin, of the two option the duration may vary.
Meanwhile, the possibility of defeat never crossed Yvette's mind.
Why? Yvette had never tasted defeat in a duel, whether facing one opponent or a hundred. She's a woman destined to traverse the Astral Plane.
Had Yvette not been ensnared by the chains of oppression, her fury might have shredded their very essence, she believed.
Sensing the tangible aura enveloping her captors, she discerned the radiant presence of the man to her left—an Early Stage Divine Knight—and the particle energy emanating from the other—a Magi.
They had transcended mortal bounds, attaining a celestial state of being. She surmised that the encounter would swiftly conclude, perhaps in mere moments. Why? Because she, Yvette, had a Semi Elemental Conversion of 52%. Even with their combined fighting power, Yvette estimated that these assailants should be around 40 to 45.
'Idiots,' Yvette sneered as her shackle came undone.
A few days after leaving the Maverik dungeon, three individuals found themselves standing at the edge of the Outlands.
They had chosen a desolate and lifeless spot, far removed from the Savage Paradise. This had been Oga's idea.
With the frenzy of a harpy, Yvette hastily examined her body, only to find herself in perfect health. 'They mistook me for a meal,' she thought, though the situation felt eerily real. "Illusion Magic?" Yvette's brow twitched.
"You can all perish now!" Yvette cried out.
However, the anticipated terror she expected never materialized, but it mattered not. She was Yvette, a woman unacquainted with defeat.
Shortly thereafter, as if summoned by her proclamation, the barren land transformed into a pulsating volcanic landscape.
Yvette, devoid of a Bloodline, commanded the forces of magma and lightning, a cataclysmic to rival those born with inherent domains.
With a 50% Elemental Conversion for both Affinities. And a high level of mastery over her elements mirrored that of esteemed High Elves. Within a few breaths, Oga and Nuu found themself on the defensive for the next four hours.
"Stop hiding and face me!" Yvette demanded, her voice resonating with the raw power of nature itself.
The silence that followed was not a sign of cowardice but of careful preparation. They were not merely hiding; they were gathering data.
"We have enough information," Oga signaled to Nuu. "Let's begin."
"Imperial Mausoleum," Oga declared, his voice commanding.
"Endless Void," Nuu echoed solemnly.
The brothers harmonized their powers, conjuring "The Abyssal Crypt," a sinister shrine rising ominously from the earth. Its tendrils transformed into massive cleavers, descending upon Yvette like guillotines.
From the shadows, a myriad of spectra emerged, their ethereal form gliding through the gloom with a single purpose: to cleave Yvette in twain. The relentless phantoms pursued her, forcing her to deplete more of her precious mana.
"Rąska'ŋarv!" Yvette shouted in the Ancient Language of Joran, her voice reverberating through the darkness. But before the Runic hand could descend upon their domain.
The Abyssal Crypt yawned open, tearing into the void and avoiding the worst-case scenario by a hair's breadth.
"It's too late," Oga declared with a chilling finality. "You have glimpsed into the abyss of infinite darkness."
"There's no escape!" Nuu echoed, their voices merging into a foreboding chorus.
"...."
"What just happened?" Yvette could hardly believe her eyes. There was no backlash, and their domain remained intact.
This wasn't her first encounter with powerful bloodlines. These enemies always had innate domains, some more formidable than others.
But this was Yvette's first failure with "Rąska'ŋarv!" It made no sense, especially against a recently baptized divine entity.
"Unless they had someone with similar mastery," Yvette reflected. Those with bloodlines were notoriously arrogant, believing their domains made them invincible.
"Damn it!" Yvette muttered, her face paling as she hurriedly retreated, dispatching a few specters along the way.
"Ylav ou…" Yvette attempted to utter another incantation.
"Not so fast!" Oga interrupted. He couldn't let her continue using the Runic Language. Whatever she had conjured a moment ago had made his heart race. If it had succeeded, he would be lying on the floor. He couldn't allow her to cast any more spells.
"Silent Film, Restriction 3! Binding Words—Umar fleuir!" Oga swiftly executed a sequence of hand signs.
"Stop... You bastard... I said quit it," Yvette gasped, tasting blood in her mouth. "What have you done?"
What many cultivators overlook is that inscription, the art of imbuing magic, has two aspects: creation and destruction. Most choose to focus solely on creation, ignoring the destructive potential.
But if one were to invest enough time and resources into the destructive side, the results could be unexpectedly rewarding.
Before Oga stood a monster named Yvette, a woman extraordinarily gifted in both aspects. Such talent is exceedingly rare, occurring one in every hundred million individuals.
"Truly hateful," Yvette muttered through blood-stained teeth. Her power was now halved. She felt the restrictive force of the domain pressing down, and when she attempted to speak the Ancient Language, she spat out old blood.
Yvette refused to entertain such thoughts of defeat. "Is this truly the end? Never!" she declared vehemently.
"So what if you take away my incantation? In all of the Heavens, I alone stand at the top!" Yvette cried out defiantly.
"..."
"Such arrogance!" Nuu retorted.
"You're a mere insect, unworthy of attention. Be gone!" Yvette replied.
Yvette quickly attempted a series of hand signs, transforming her magma into hounds.
Each cleave, each powerful attack, cut through the air with furious intensity.
Yvette's efforts were in vain? Was they as futile as trying to dissolve mist with a whisper?
Even her follow-up attack, Divine Retribution—merely grazed Nuu.
Her lightning attack had lost its potency, under their darkness.
Nuu danced through the onslaught of bolts, seemingly rewriting fate with every movement.
Undeterred, Yvette remained resolute, dismissing any thought of retreat. Her determination burned fiercely within her, despite the blood seeping from her mouth. With urgency, she sketched an alchemical pentagram in haste, murmuring incantations through bloodied lips. "Lyrąn'øs kyras'en šolma, vrentenə brantin dokan norn!"
From the remnants of her sixteen fallen hounds arose a formidable creature with three heads resembling Cerberus, its breath reeking of infernal depths.
Before Nuu could react, the monstrous beast closed the distance in an instant. Three massive explosions, like supernovas, erupted around him, engulfing him.
The color from Oga's face drains….
"Let's see you dance now, monkey!" Yvette taunted, her voice sharp, finally killing her masked assailant.
Her gaze shifted briefly to the second assailant.
"Don't worry," she declared, hatred lacing her words, "you're next!" If it weren't for Oga's restriction, she would have eliminated these lowly insects long ago.
"Cleave Bonari!" A hoarse voice came from her peripheral
Oga let out a breath of relief.
A deafening "Boom!" followed.
Yvette somersaulted in disbelief as she watched the man still alive, despite her Infernal summons, two of its heads were gone.
"Only you stand at the top eh? Who determines that?" Nuu's breathing was labored.
From dodging the point-blank attack at such close range. Despite using Star-Shift, he had still taken damage; half of his body was covered in third-degree burns.
"A man with one foot in the grave need not worry about tomorrow! On your way, you go! Implode, White Chaser!" Yvette cried out, her shock quickly transforming into action as she launched another attack.
"Don't miss your boat!" She cackled with glee.
Oga, no longer able to remain a passive observer, "That must be her final trump card." Oga made his decision:
"I can't let him die here!" he resolved. Five piercing Distorted Violet Flames shot from his fingertips, his hands freezing mid-sign.
The scene Yvette anticipated—the sight of Nuu being consumed by infernal—did not materialize. Instead, as soon as White Chaser neared Nuu, it vanished without a trace.
"What have you done?" Yvette demanded, turning her gaze toward Oga. Briefly, she had felt her restriction being lifted, and based on the state of the burned assailant, he shouldn't have been able to evade.
This man restricting her power was her nemesis; he had to die of the two. He's the most troublesome. No matter what she tried, he always had a counter, as if he could predict her every move.
"They must not join forces!" she thought bitterly. As much as she hated to admit it, the situation was dire. She preferred Oga to continue his restriction.
To create a trump card like Cerberus normally required the sacrifice of seven years of Yvette's lifespan.
However, Oga's restriction targeted her use of the Ancient Joran Language to bypass his domain restriction, forcing her to give up even more of her life.
Yvette truly desired to devour Oga alive. She knew that every domain had a weakness, yet she couldn't find one here. This could only mean one of two things: either the restriction was multilayered, or she was trapped inside a living entity.
Yvette couldn't conjure another Cerberus; her opponents were not foolish. They grew more vigilant, wary of where her magma hounds appeared.
Nor could she shatter her espace pendant, "...."
The thought was preposterous; she had never encountered these strange fellows before. Yet they knew everything about her.
'Do they have a Divination Magi?' Yvette wondered, trying to find a logical explanation. It was hard for her to believe that anyone among these people could gather information through blood alone.
Why not use soul searching or one of the many other methods? Yvette initially considered this, but how she was captured and treated suggested the involvement of someone with the gift of foresight.
Soul searching, unlike Divination, focuses primarily on the target, providing only limited insight into those they have interacted with. In contrast, Divination could unveil intricate details about third parties.
Yvette stood in disbelief as one of her most formidable attacks vanished into thin air. "How is that possible?" she thought, but Oga gave her no time to dwell on it.
"You won't have to search for it," Oga said, adding to her confusion. "I'll return it to you!"
In an instant, White Chaser reappeared, now blazing with a violet color, and an even greater intensity.
Chaos swirled around her as an impenetrable darkness enveloped the scene. "Don't miss your boat bitch!" Nuu laughter filled the air.
Nuu unleashed his thousand Guanyin hands. His intention was clear: he wanted her dead.
In mere seconds, thousands of fists, some armed with blades, descended upon Yvette.
"Nuu, I still need her, control yourself!" Oga's voice transmitted urgently. He understood his brother's anger, yet this woman was crucial.
Not only had she held her ground against individuals with powerful bloodlines while being weakened, but her might was a testament to her potential.
Such a person was worth investing in, especially one without a bloodline. Her skill in wielding the Runic Language for battle had captivated Oga's interest.
She was not only skilled in creating runes but also had a deeper understanding than Yanis.
Like a cornered prey, Yvette found herself unable to evade, leaving her powerless against the onslaught.
"Ghuleh," she gasped, the impact sending her chard body hurtling.
Despite Yvette's formidable abilities, the prospect of escape dwindled to naught. Ensnared within a labyrinth of darkness and brutality, she was held captive, with no respite from their unrelenting assault.
There was no holding back; every strike landed with full force.
An hour later
A crimson liquid splashed upon the bettered Yvette, a voice commanding, "Clean yourself," Oga uttered while pointing towards the nearby stream.
Yvette stood in awe as her wounds closed up, one after the next a new layer of skin, even her fractured bones seamlessly reforming.
The thought of escape flitted through her mind. She knew from their brief clash that the masked figure in black had both the resources to hunt her down effortlessly and the wealth to heal any wounds she might inflict.
She could overpower one opponent in a one-on-one fight, but doing so would leave her vulnerable to the pursuit of the other. Their lineage granted them extraordinary strength, speed, and abilities, making them formidable foes.
With a deep breath, she steadied herself. "I lost!"
She had embarked on this quest for Vengeance; turning back now was unthinkable.
A decade-long pact of the soul held little weight in the grand scheme, and it was enough time to know her enemy, 'Ten years is not too late for revenge, they're bloodline, so their next big breakthrough will be 7 to 10 years, I still have time,' she mused.
Their actions betrayed a motive beyond coercion. No matter how she pondered it, if they harbored an intent to kill, she would already be lifeless.
Moreover, she was neither a virgin nor a mortal to be subjected to unwanted pregnancies—a mere inconvenience for one of her standing, with the means to terminate such trials within a few breaths.
Moments afterward, she was presented with a Holding Bag.
"I believe these are yours," Nuu said.
Nuu understood that he couldn't take their battle personally, after all, he killed her daughter.
Yvette eyed him warily as he offered her the belongings. Her suspicion melted away as she glimpsed inside, her eyes moistening at the sight. She hadn't anticipated the return of these items from these brutes. It was a surprising gesture.
In the bag lay the remnants of Jocelyn - an urn, a photo pendant, and the garments of the departed.
Without a word, Oga and Nuu retreated, granting Yvette the solace she sought. Though Yanis had taken every last ounce of blood from the girl, her bones were cremated, save for her head currently with Zmos – a truth concealed from Yvette.
Half an hour later…
Yvette stood, enveloped in a flowing beaded gown, the pendant resting against her chest as she tenderly returned her daughter's ashes into the Holding Bag.
"It is time to honor your vow," Nuu announced.
Yvette pondered in silence, her thoughts swirling like leaves in an autumn breeze. The weight of the moment pressed upon her, but she remained resolute.
Without a word, she accepted the dagger presented to her, its blade gleaming under the dim light. With steady hands, she carved into her chest, exposing her heart, a sacrifice to bind her oath.
Oga and Nuu approached her with solemn expressions. Simultaneously, they ran the dagger through their palms, their blood mingling with Yvette's bleeding chest to form a blood-red string. The air thickened with the scent of iron as the ritual unfolded.
Yvette felt a surge of energy as the blood ritual connected them, a powerful bond forming among the three.
Gathering above, somber clouds bore witness to the pact unfolding, a silent covenant etched in the ether. Soon, the arbiter of all agreements descended, Ona the Vengeful, her spectral form casting an icy shroud over the assembly none could raise their head.
In her hands, a sword and scale; upon the latter, she accepted the String of Fate.
Yvette's heart was enfolded into Ona's cloak. As the void within her chest sealed with a Seven Star Pentagram, Ona's words pierced the air.
"A hollow wench ye shall become, fate's cruelty marked by certain death! The Seven Vow hath been heard, a heart embraced, until the toll of the hour, thusly ordained."
Ona, the deity of …. eyes, fixed her gaze upon Nuu and Oga's flame with a subtle startle. "The Night's progeny doth birth new sovereigns, oh! How the celestial orbs doth wail, since days of yore.
What destiny doth thou unfurl? I doth await with bated breath. Regale these tired orbs, a boon to the triumphant!" Her voice, a whisper carried upon the wind, dissolved into stardust, only heard by three men.
Moments later, in her wake, lingered a cursed star's branding—a stark reminder of the consequences should Yvette falter from her pledge.
Bound by the intricate threads of blood and destiny, Yvette stood marked, her very existence tethered to the fulfillment of her ten-year solemn vow.
Once Ona was gone they could finally feel the pressure lifted.
"...."
'Did she just speak to us?' Both brothers gaze at each other, in utter shock, this soulless entity that seems to be more robotic, actually expressed will toward meer ants. Yet what did she mean by three Sovereign, there's only One!
Yvette had always abided by principles — a vow was sacred, and this wasn't her first, once a heart is taken, it can only be returned when the promise is kept.
The marking on her left breast served as a symbol of her servitude, a leash for her masters to control.
Oga and Nuu held authority over her, each marked with a symbol of power — a sword upon Oga's hand and a scale on Nuu's.
Should she stray from her Seven Vows, they possessed the ability to inflict harm with a mere thought. Oga's blade could pierce her heart, and Nuu's grasp could constrict it.
This branding remained hidden from view, discernible only to those bound by the pact or beings of Law.