The Monarch of Butterflies moved with grace, her body dancing with power and finesse. Her wings, vibrant and resplendent, seemed to catch the light and reflect it back, contrary to his wings which couldn't even be compared to hers.
Moreover, each movement of her hand, every step she took, was deliberate and precise. Her presence on the battlefield was magnetic, drawing both friend and foe to witness her prowess.
She was a true monarch.
A true leader.
Enzo's eyes were fixed on her as she engaged in combat. She moved effortlessly, her blade a blur as it struck down the Monarch of War with precision. It was clear that she was not just a skilled fighter, but a tactician, analyzing the flow of the battle and adapting her movements accordingly.
But what truly stood out were the butterflies. As she fought, they fluttered around her, a living shield and a lethal weapon all at once. They deflected arrows, carried messages, and even assisted in delivering precise strikes. It was a harmonious relationship, a dance between a warrior and her loyal companions.
What picked particularly his attention was how majestic her butterflies were. Not a single one looked like the one he had. Obviously what he had couldn't be compared as they were without a doubt lower rank, but still, he didn't expect such a difference.
Additionally, he couldn't help but be surprised at the diversity of the Monarch's butterflies. There were just... too many of them.
Currently, Enzo only had 6 types of butterflies - Carnivorous, Poisonous, Protective, Healing, Sand, and Illusion - but it looked like the Monarch had so much more than Enzo paled in comparison.
Water, ice, fire, magma, rock, gravity, air, lightning butterflies, and it was just a few of them. Some looked to slow or fasten times, while others looked as if they were toying with space or even reality.
It was how far the power of a true Butterfly Monarch went.
As the battle raged on, Enzo observed how the Monarch of Butterflies seamlessly wove her command over these diverse butterflies into her fighting style. Each butterfly type seemed to have a distinct purpose, enhancing her abilities and covering her weaknesses. The elemental butterflies unleashed devastating attacks, while the reality-manipulating ones created intricate illusions and disruptions on the battlefield alongside the illusion butterflies.
Enzo realized that her butterflies were an extension of her mastery over different aspects of nature and reality. They weren't just tools; they were manifestations of her connection to the very fabric of the world. This was the legacy of the butterfly monarchs, a power that went beyond the confines of what Enzo had initially comprehended.
It was mesmerizing!
As the Monarch of Butterflies continued to fight, Enzo also noticed something else – the Monarch's unwavering resolve and compassion. She fought not just for victory, but to protect her realm and its inhabitants from the ravages of war. Her determination to bring about a better future was evident in every strike, every stance, and every butterfly that danced at her command.
As the fight raged on, more and more of her butterflies died, but it was as if the Monarch couldn't care. She was on a battlefield, meaning that her power wouldn't even be lessened in the slightest even if she lost a few butterflies. On the contrary, there was no stop to her power.
Since the beginning of the battle, butterflies kept appearing, ravaging the bodies of the deceased every time, be they allies or foes. Moreover, all the new butterflies were at least high-ranks, if not higher, if there were even such categories. And every now and then, it seemed like the butterflies were evolving, reaching new heights.
However, what surprised Enzo the most was how the monarch could split her attention to so many things.
She was fighting relentlessly against an equal foe, meaning that it was already hard on her. But above that, she was keeping an eye on her old butterflies, as well as the new ones, while keeping the fight as far away as possible from mundane soldiers to not cause unnecessary damage.
It was just incredible.
She had so much experience that everyone paled in front of her.
Even the Monarch of war.
Or rather, the latter couldn't care less about her surrounding. She only wanted to kill the Monarch of Butterflies while savaging everything around her. It was as if she lost reason as even her allies died because of her.
There was such a big contrast between the two Monarchs.
One was benevolent while the other was ruthless.
And seeing such a scene, Enzo's frown deepened, and hatred started boiling inside of him. Even though he wasn't the type to care too much for people, he still couldn't understand how a Monarch out of everything could kill its people so easily.
Were lives for her so flitting?
Was it a useless asset that could be disregarded when there was a need to?
'Disgusting!' Enzo thought as he continued watching the endless fight.
Amidst the chaos, the Monarch of Butterflies remained a beacon of strength and resilience. Her presence alone seemed to inspire her soldiers, rallying them even in the face of despair. The battlefield was a testament to her leadership, the vivid colors of her butterflies a stark contrast to the bleakness of war.
It was also a fine contrast between how she ruled and how her opponent ruled.
However, soon enough, the confrontation between the two Monarchs reached its climax. The Monarch of Butterflies, though weary, held her ground. Her resolve was unyielding, her compassion unwavering. And as the Monarch of War lunged for a final attack, the Monarch of Butterflies unleashed a surge of power that enveloped the battlefield.
Enzo watched in awe as the very fabric of reality seemed to twist and warp around her. The butterflies around her radiated intense energy, their wings a fusion of light and elemental power. The air crackled with anticipation as a sphere of energy formed around her, a maelstrom of power that defied comprehension.
With a final cry, the Monarch of Butterflies unleashed this energy, a cataclysmic force that engulfed the Monarch of War. The battlefield trembled, reality itself buckling under the weight of the clash.
And then, in a blinding explosion of light, it was over.
The Monarch of War was defeated, her power shattered and her existence scattered to the winds. The battlefield lay in ruins.
Though, amidst the devastation stood a lonely figure. The Monarch of Butterflies. Her wings were tattered, her form weary, but her spirit remained unbroken.
However, right when she was about to soar into the sky again to have a better looked at the battlefield, a terrible roar descended upon the world.
It was as if Heaven unleashed its wrath.