With the mist nearly dissipating, the crew felt the weight of Tarot's likely victory against the previous foe, though relief was fleeting. A new enemy had emerged from the depths of the Bloomsque Hazard, shrouded in an aura of unparalleled menace. The woman stood before them, her movements slow and deliberate, as if every gesture carried the gravity of a storm waiting to break.
The air between them crackled with tension as the crew braced themselves. Joker stepped forward, gripping his marotte tightly, a sharp edge in his normally playful demeanor. "So, Yipsiv's pulling out the last ace from his hand, huh? Guess that makes you his trump card."
The woman didn't flinch at his words. Her expression remained cold and detached, her glowing purple eyes scanning them with a dispassionate gaze. "Captain Yipsiv has little patience for failure," she said, her voice smooth but carrying a deadly finality. "My sisters faltered, and now it falls to me to end this farce. I am Celosia, the Death Mask."
She raised her hand in a slow, fluid motion, rotating it outward before bringing it to her chest, her palm open and steady as though channeling the power within her. The storm around her seemed to answer her call, flashes of violet lightning spiraling upward into the sky before crashing back to earth, scorching the terrain around her feet.
Elliott narrowed his eyes, his usually laid-back expression hardening as he stepped forward. His gaze locked onto the blade at Celosia's side, and a flicker of recognition crossed his face. "That sword…" he muttered, his voice low and tense. "Denjin. The first blade born from the ashes of thunder."
The others glanced at Elliott, sensing the weight of his words, but he didn't break his focus on Celosia. "I've read about it—an ancient weapon forged in the heart of a storm, said to harness the wrath of lightning itself. I've always wanted to see it up close…"
Celosia tilted her head, her lips curling into a faint, humorless smile. "Admiring your doom before it strikes? How quaint," she replied, her voice sharp as a blade. "But don't waste your breath, little bolt. You won't live long enough to tell anyone about it."
The crew shifted into position, the heat of the molten terrain beneath them mixing with the electric charge in the air. Celosia's presence was like the eye of a storm—calm, focused, and terrifyingly powerful.
Joker glanced sidelong at Elliott, noting how tightly his trembling hand gripped his sword's hilt. The tension was palpable, his usually composed demeanor now overshadowed by the weight of his knowledge. "I've heard rumors about that weapon," Joker said softly, his voice laced with intrigue, "but you seem to know more than the rest of us, Elliott."
Elliott didn't tear his eyes away from Celosia. His voice was steady, though his body remained tense, every muscle primed to strike. "It's said the sword's true form isn't even a blade," he began, his words deliberate. "Its real nature is that of a spear—a weapon of raw, unbridled destruction. The katana form is merely a dormant state, waiting for a wielder deemed worthy. But…" his eyes flickered over Celosia, assessing her every movement, "seeing as it's still just a sword, I'd wager you haven't unlocked its true potential."
The accusation hung in the air like a blade poised to strike. Joker raised a brow at Elliott's audacity, a faint smirk playing on his lips, but he said nothing. The tension between Elliott and Celosia was a storm of its own.
Celosia, unfazed, tilted her head ever so slightly. Her calm demeanor remained unbroken, though a flicker of amusement danced behind her glowing eyes. "A spear, you say?" she replied, her tone light, almost playful. "I'm afraid your books have misled you, dear warrior. Denjin does not transform into some primitive polearm. When awakened, it becomes something far more divine. Its blade fractures into thunder incarnate, a celestial form imbued with the very power of the storm—a gift once wielded by a creature of legend."
She raised her hand, brushing the hilt of Denjin with a reverence that bordered on mockery. "This sword doesn't demand worthiness. It demands resolve, strength, and the will to harness its fury. I wonder…" Her gaze locked onto Elliott's. "Do you have the courage to face it, even in its current state?"
Elliott's jaw tightened, but he remained rooted in place, a statue of restrained ambition. Deep down, a part of him burned with the desire to test her words, to draw out the blade's true form and witness its power firsthand. Yet, he couldn't ignore the fear that doing so might call forth something far beyond his understanding.
The battlefield seemed to shrink, the world around them growing still as if waiting for one of them to make the first move.
"Guys..." Elliott turned to his companions, his voice steady but carrying a weight that made them all pause. His expression was unwavering, the sheer determination in his eyes cutting through the tension. They knew exactly what he was about to say before the words even left his lips.
"I want to face her myself," he announced, his tone firm, leaving no room for debate. "If I'm imbued with lightning, I can withstand some of the thunder claps her blade might unleash. Whether you like it or not, this is something I need to do. I've read about the divine weapons my whole life, and now I have a chance to test my strength against one. But..." He straightened, his eyes narrowing as he stared down Celosia. "I didn't expect a mere human to wield Denjin, the blade of thunder."
The air between them felt electric, like a storm building on the horizon. Elliott's body tensed as he bent forward into a ready stance, the confidence radiating off him a sharp contrast to the anxiety flickering in his allies' eyes.
"I need to feel its power for myself," he continued. "Unlike most, I don't just fight to win—I fight to grow. This blade is an opportunity I can't pass up. If I'm not brave enough to face it, I don't deserve to call myself a warrior. Today, I failed. I let my overconfidence blind me. But now…" He tightened his grip on his own blade, lightning sparking faintly along its edge. "I'll repay that failure. If I fall again, then… you're free to end the rest of us."
His declaration hung heavy in the air, his boldness shocking his allies. Joker's usual smirk faded, Kyora's brow furrowed in worry, and even Yumiko, though silent, clenched her fists. They knew Elliott's resolve couldn't be swayed.
Celosia, standing as calm and composed as ever, finally spoke, her voice like rolling thunder. "Bold words for a man who stands on the edge of ruin." Her glowing purple eyes flicked to the sword in her hand, then back to Elliott. "Very well. If you're so eager to gamble your life, I'll honor your request. A duel, one on one."
She shifted her stance, her cloak billowing around her as she raised Denjin with a calculated grace. The faint hum of energy emanating from the blade grew louder, filling the battlefield with an ominous resonance. "Here's my offer: defeat me, and I'll let your friends go. But if you lose…" The wicked words, tugged at her lips, sharp and cold. "Then all of you die here, beneath the weight of the storm."
Elliott smirked, his body surging with anticipation as lightning crackled at his fingertips. "Fine by me..."
To be continued...