Frederick, the first Vice-captain of the Holy Manics is a handsome and charismatic guy, his looks inherited from his family, who were quite influential in the kingdom of Avalor as they reported directly to the region's Emperor, Lord of the Outlands.
However, this handsome and charismatic guy currently didn't look the part. His originally immaculate white armour is now stained with the disgusting black blood of the numerous demons he's killed. He felt quite nauseous at the thought, but managed to hold it in.
'I hope you'll forgive me, friend,' he keeps repeating in his heart.
He's still on his pegasus, even in the midst of battle, choosing to use long-ranged magic spells with his angelic energy, rather than diving head first. Yet, he still managed to soil himself with their disgusting blood unlike Moria who'd slaughtered an unknown amount of demons while flying before her battle with Ski started. Yet there's not a single demon blood stain on her!
"How can she even keep herself clean. She should be the most soiled one here. Sigh" he muttered to himself as he cleaved the heads of three demons with a light magic blade.
'The heavens are fortunate to have her... however... Sigh' Frederick's heart was heavy with doubt and unwillingness to do what he'd been asked... he feared.
'We all have our duty, Moira. I hope you understand' he thought to himself resignedly, repeating his plea for forgiveness...
Forgiveness for what he was about to do.
Speaking of Moira, she was currently stalemated in an intense bout with Ski, she was being pressured!
That's new!
That's completely new!
'How did he get this strong?' she thought to herself.
'Could it be the reason why the demons can maintain their rationality? But that doesn't make sense either'
What is it? How come? She keeps thinking while trying to focus on the battle. 'What am I missing?' she thought, however Ski answered her "Young Moira, you're missing a lot you know. You can't figure it out, regardless of how hard you rack your little brain."
She jolted at this, and Ski took the opportunity to jab at her 'I still haven't managed to wound her yet, the rat needs to hurry up' he thought as she quickly refocused and deflected the attack; once again, injury free.
"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? Trying to get in my head, taking advantage of the confusion you've created in my heart... Do you think you're dealing with some mortal, you scum?" She raged and attacked even more frenziedly.
"What are you depending on? You haven't managed to even draw a drop of my sacred blood, yet you're somehow sure you can kill me" she mused while eyeing him carefully.
Each of her attacks were deadly. She fought like an assassin, like an unscrupulous and coldhearted being of darkness, yet her heart was pure and her soul was holy. Ski couldn't understand it. But he's fought her so many times that even though he still finds it surprising, it doesn't affect him any more. He didn't reply her, only thinking in his heart about a certain rat who needs to hurry up.
Since he refused to speak, Moira kept mum as well. She would no longer initiate any conversation with him. This was not a friendly spar, after all. Each of their altercations had been a fight to the death. Merciless. She was only being cautious this time because of the unusual foreboding, in addition to Ski's conviction to kill her. She observed him.
Confident.
Unconcerned.
'It's like I'm already dead in his eyes' she thought again, her eyebrow twitching.
"I'll kill you, Bastard!" she yelled suddenly and retreated a few metres. Swirls of purefire gathered in her palms as she unleashed a killing move.
'Heaven Descending Palm!'
Ski was rooted to a spot at the unexpected attack. Actually, he didn't have much of a choice, the holy properties of the purefire had weakened him considerably, and so he was thrown back thousands of metres like a rag doll. Completely unable to resist.
Boom! Bang!
Nearby structures were burned away, even the clouds had a huge space depicting the distance he'd been thrown across.
Without giving him any chances to recover, Moira, flapped her wings and appeared before him in a flash, striking again at his chest. Alas, Ski was still a seasoned warrior who'd exchanged blows with Moira many times. He was familiar with her rage, with her style and as soon as he'd been blown away, he already prepared his scales for defence.
The next attack barely shook him.
"Tch, you really deserve death. Toying with an Elder in such a manner," he rambled as he flew up again. Ski now made for a bit of a sorry sight. Besides the deep red demon scales now covering his entire body, his spilled blood and chipped wings showed that he'd taken quite a hit.
"We're the same age, you damned beast!" Moria retorted. "Just a little scratch was able to knock you off your pedestal huh? Why don't you try and kill me, then, you weak piece of rubbish? This time, I'll obliterate you!"
"He-he, your temper is getting worse and worse, young Moira. He-he"
The two flew higher in the air, to prevent the shock waves from their fight from affecting the chances of each of their sides from gaining victory. They went up and their fists collided, the energies of each burned the other upon contact.
Another stalemate.
"Quite the cockroach, aren't you?" Mora spat again. Ski, held his peace.
The fight continued, as they came on each other like madmen. Bold, unrelenting attacks with no regard for injury, which had already piled up on both. In their eyes was only the excitement of battle and sturdy determination to erase their opponent from existence.
Clang! Clang! Bang! Boom!!!
Six more figures joined them in the air, as Frederick and Mina faced off against Ski's four underlings. Blood continued to spill as the unforgiving slashes of swords ravaged each of them. The scene in the air became chaotic as the figures became multiple blurs of black and white raining the mixed ashen blood on the battlefield in the clouds below them.
Suddenly, there was a flash of metal accompanied by a glint in Ski's eyes which didn't go unnoticed by Moira, however, the blade that struck at her heart did not come from him, but rather someone behind her.
Someone wearing the same white armour as her, who after so long finally abandoned her pegasus and revealed her wings. They were grey.
"M-mina... Why?" Moira choked on her blood, watching as her closest friends stood side by side, with their blades to her. Frederick clearly also wanted her life, but she couldn't fathom the reason. His wings were still golden and his energy was still pure, meaning that his soul hadn't been corrupted like Mina's.
Someone in Heaven wanted her dead, and chose to use her friend.
Meanwhile, her other friend had been corrupted by a demon.
"Hah! Is this it?" she laughed self-deprecating as her eyes faced the higher skies. "This is the 'fate' you have for me? How... tasteless" the last words came out of her as her body hurled to the clouds below and her soul went forward to the darkness.
At least, it's finally over. Your games. You can't toy with me any more.
And her eyes closed finally.