The Witch of Envy's corpse writhed and convulsed as a primordial being of ancient infamy practically gnawed on itself to break free from its binding shell, ripping apart the vessel it had been inhabiting for what Red recognized as a century-old slumber. It had fought with and against itself in a never-ending struggle of malignancy and terror; of beauty and grace; of power and will. Even through this disgusting and empowering Rite of Transformation, it had not been able to break free, or at the very least absorb Witch's power for its own, always just a little bit lacking.
…Until now.
"…!"
Great power, one that can destroy continents and Gods, burst from the Witch of Envy's vile cocoon, the illusory magic forbidding all manners of creatures from seeing its true form—except for one—having faded away mid-battle, after Red's Anchor's initial strike.
Silver ooze, the Blood of Envy, spattered the shadowed space that Red had created through her inherited power, staining not the ground, but the very fabric of space itself. It held onto the invisible boundaries reality, as well as wrapped itself with the strong of destiny, and the edict of life.
It was being born slowly, with the terrifying glow of malignant energy.
Red looked to the lean man, holding his position ever since using his Formless attack. She shouted with dire emergency:
"Haur-Harita! Quickly, kill that thing! If it ever sets foot upon this realm, then forget about this country… the whole world could be in danger!"
Her desperate throes reached the man, or at least it seemed like it, only to be me with the still silence of the natural world.
A cold shiver ran down her spine, electrifying her fur.
"No… is he?"
As if I response to her hypothesis, the adult man fell down, his body going limp and his muscles losing all strength it previously exhibited like a mighty warrior of justice.
Red could see that the eyes that held onto the land of promises more than any other still held onto the embers of existence, though much weaker than before.
"He's still alive," she muttered, then cast a lonesome look on him. "…But not for long, it would seem."
Her grim hypothesis had been incorrect, though the conclusion that awaited it was nevertheless the same. She grit her teeth.
The situation had not only worsened, it had become significantly more dangerous. At least before, they stood a chance; now they're just dead, in all possible meanings.
She looked down, to the boy below her. He had closed his eyes and gone to sleep. A bad timing by any measure, but she didn't blame him for it; it had been a tough day. And a growing boy needs their occasional naps if they ever hope to grow.
Still, though, there was something off about him. It was almost like he too was going in some kind of metamorphosis, but she disregarded that. As talented and prodigious as he was, he was still too much of a greenhorn to do such a thing. She merely ruled it out as her senses going into random directions due to straining her powers too much in such a short span of time.
In truth, it had only been a mere thirty and so minutes ever since the witch appeared, bringing destruction in its wake in the form of a beautiful white-haired woman. Some of the others had escaped, bringing all that they could in one wagon with the fastest horses pulling it. She made certain that the viscount would be left, though she prioritized the safety of the others passengers first. No matter how long it could have been, she had still spent a comparatively large amount of her eleven-year-old life with them. So she did what she could, with none excess whatsoever.
Red chuckled innocently.
'And yet, this has happened… Hehe, how funny. To think that I would meet a higher-than-human creature in the span of less than a year; life truly is full of unexpected wonders. I even met my first love, and made a friend at the same time.'
She wiped a tear about to fall from her right eye.
"Heh, good times."
She stood up and braced herself, her incantation on the verge of completion. Dark runes in ring-like circles surrounded her as they spun furiously, the nature of her soul commanding them to unbind all of the powers she could exhibit all at once, disregarding form and grace, focusing solely on damage, no matter what the cost.
She took a deep breath, remembering it all:
"Fuh~ So… this is it; the end of my Story. I don't think Wolf would have like this kind of ending, no matter how eccentric he is. Actually, even after researching the knowledge he had passed on to me, I still couldn't quite figure him out. He had been a loyal confidant, that's for sure, but we had never quite reached the level of trust that Lieren and that man had, even through all the reiterations of my Story we had gone through long ago…"
She trailed off, as if refusing to finish the thought. Her form began shrinking as her incantations began to continuously drain her power, deactivating Wild Shape and allowing her to return to her innocent, infantile form once again. Her uniform was ripped here and there, but it was enough to cover the bare essentials, and she didn't particularly mind it either since the only being lucid enough to behold her exposed form was nothing but a pile of silver ooze.
She smiled evenly, continuing:
"…Well, not like it matters now, I guess."
She let her thoughts drift and converge on a single point, abandoning herself, but not the boy she loved with all her heart.
…Not knowing what would happen next, and the surprise it would bring her.
The silver ooze flowed more and more from the Witch of Envy's body. Every now and then, a sharp protrusion the shape of an arm would emerge, then swing itself and claw on the ground, only to be met with a wet splat and disfigure itself, melting with the rest, only for a new one to emerge and try again, improving each time it does so. Sometimes, it wouldn't even be an arm, but something else entirely. A leg that would involuntarily kick every now and then; a mouth and tongue that would open and close to try and voice words, only to realize that it required more than those two parts to speak; an eye that would take all manners of shapes from different beings, like orcs and ogres; flowing bumps reminiscent of air, as well as sharp spikes and matted thick fur outlined its body.
Despite its boundless nature, one aspect prevailed over all others: it was continuously improving with each try.
The arms would become more solid and functional, the leg would become more defined and muscular, the mouth and tongue would spit out a coherent word or two; the eye grew more defined and more specific, taking the image of a humanoid eye; and the skin began eliminating creases and imperfections, turning milky-white; until, eventually, all that remained was a beautiful woman—even more sublime than the Witch of Envy's bewitched form—emerged, her mere presence overwriting Red's shadow.
A circle of luminescent silver light flowed out of her, taking the form of pure white robes that barely covered her natural form.
Her beauty was otherworldly, on the realms of the gods themselves.
She gave Red a radiant smile.
"Thank you, child, for freeing me from that VILE prison, as well as granting me a chance to roam this realm once more."
Her tone, her beauty, her smile, as well as every single aspect about her was seemingly fought for superiority over all the other parts of her. Constantly changing; continuously improving, that was her power.
"It's amazing…," Red admitted. "…that power of yours. However, I wouldn't really advise reveling in it any longer."
She smiled grandly, as if in return to the other party's radiance. It was nowhere near half as much in terms of beauty, but it was significantly more spiteful than the person in front of her could ever exhibit by herself.
She scoffed.
"After all, it's nothing more than a fake. YOU are nothing more than a fake."
The other party, the so-called Baba Yaga, not only took the insult on all its glory, but responded with a more magnanimous smile.
She spat poison:
"Silence, child. You have no idea of what you speak of."