Cleru Neos
Upon my signal to my comrades, I orchestrated a dramatic maneuver, instructing my Rainbow Dragon to initiate a breathtaking descent spanning a thousand meters from the heavens. In a skillful amalgamation of our collective mass, velocity, and the relentless pull of gravity, we ingeniously propelled ourselves beyond the sonic threshold, resulting in a resounding boom upon our impact with the hotel. A mesmerizing array of rainbow-hued auras cloaked Jasmine's claws, serving as our impervious shield against any impending harm. This safeguarded us from the otherwise formidable repercussions of our tumultuous landing, which forcefully splintered the left wing of the hotel into an extravagant display of shattered debris and dust.
Approximately fifteen Arcadian soldiers sprang into action at the sight of my arrival alongside the Rainbow Dragon. Swiftly aiming their rifles in our direction, their bellicose intentions were met with swift and absolute retribution as, one by one, the enigmatic prowess of our sniper, Rudolf Azregon, turned their cranial matter into gruesome spectacles. Eager to capitalize on the chaos, I forged my path toward the lower floors, where both the beleaguered princess and the juvenile dragonoid awaited liberation from their captors.
Gracefully gliding down the staircase, I engaged with the assailants obstructing my advance, the iridescence of my rainbow scimitar gleaming in the dimly lit corridor. The passage was transformed into a theater of swift and artful combat as my blade danced through the air, elegantly dismantling any opposition in my way. Upon reaching the hostages' domain, a gripping scene unfolded before me: Nox, his arm severed, seemed to be overseeing the disturbing spectacle of his own limb regenerating. A visceral disgust swept over me at the sight.
"You treacherous wretch," Nox muttered with a trace of venom. His buster sword, an embodiment of his sinister intent, was drawn from its sheath with lethal purpose, poised to sever the princess's delicate neck from her body.
Driven by a surge of adrenaline, my reflexes surged into action. With a controlled burst of energy, I unleashed a dazzling incendiary force, casting forth a white fireball that engulfed Nox's right arm, flinging his weapon through a nearby window in a majestic arc. Seizing the moment, I surged forward in a fluid motion, my rainbow-infused blade tracing a lethal arc that sundered his right shoulder down to his left waist. The abrupt demise that followed left Nox sprawled lifelessly upon the ground, an expression of profound shock etched onto his countenance.
Quickly, I turned my attention to disarming the immediate danger, deftly removing the explosive devices before casting them out through the shattered windows. Swiftly unbinding the princess from her restraints, I proceeded to attend to the now one-eyed Gaz, a pang of sorrow piercing my heart for the undue suffering he had endured at such a tender age.
Out of nowhere, a trio of imposing Arcadian figures brandishing gleaming swords emerged, launching a fierce assault upon our ranks. With unwavering determination, Princess Seris valiantly stepped forward, her presence exuding an air of regal confidence. "I shall handle this," she declared, her arm igniting with brilliant golden flames that danced like flickering auroras. A single decisive movement from her summoned forth the legendary "Princess Punch," a devastating maneuver renowned within the royal lineage. The targeted terrorist felt the brunt of her assault firsthand, as an uppercut of extraordinary force connected with his jaw, rendering him airborne before violently colliding with his comrades. This was none other than the fabled technique capable of shattering protective shields to utter insignificance, a truly awe-inspiring magical onslaught. Yet, the staggering might of the attack came with a caveat—it could be harnessed only once per day, making its deployment a privilege that required careful consideration.
With Princess Seris's prompt success, I instinctively sprang into action, affixing protective shield plates to safeguard Gaz and Seris from harm. As Jasmine's draconic form peered through the windows, I seized the opportunity to swiftly transport the hostages onto the awaiting back of my Rainbow Dragon. In a breathless instant, the dragon soared forward, reaching the zenith of its considerable speed.
At this juncture, our paramount concern centered on rescuing the princess, relegating the daunting task of confronting Dragunov to the capable hands of the Chevalier Unit. My personal animosity towards my stepfather notwithstanding, I had resolved not to embroil myself in the complex web of conflict he had woven. My sole preoccupation lay in ensuring the well-being and safety of the princess.
Amid our escape, a recollection emerged—a haunting thought that Rudolf Azregon, our indomitable sniper, should have been at my side, reinforcing our ranks. However, his absence was soon clarified as I witnessed the billowing plumes of thick smoke billowing from a distant section of the city. Instinctually, I veered slightly from our escape route, opting to investigate the ominous source of disturbance. The ensuing sight was nothing short of harrowing—a tableau of desolation greeted our gaze. Rudolf and his loyal dragonoid lay motionless on the unforgiving ground. An aura of profound sorrow enveloped us as we beheld this grim scene.
Yet, an even more sinister figure emerged from the shadows: a silver-haired sorceress, her icy demeanor unmistakably hostile. Clutching icicle daggers with a palpable malevolence, she approached Rudolf's lifeless form. Her crimson eyes pulsed with an unsettling intensity, veins marbling her features in a grotesque fashion that seemed to blur the line between madness and malevolence. The gravity of the situation wasn't lost on our captive audience—Princess Seris let out an involuntary shriek, while Gaz clenched his teeth in a show of suppressed anguish.
"Jasmine, take flight!" I issued the command to my steadfast Rainbow Dragon. With precision and grace, Jasmine executed a controlled descent, maintaining her remarkable speed. Amidst the tumultuous circumstances, a piercing shout erupted from Emy, her voice a vessel for a simmering wrath that consumed her.
"YOU TOOK THE LIFE OF MY ALDER TWICE!!! UNFORGIVABLE!!! THIS INJUSTICE WARRANTS NOT ONLY YOUR DEMISE, BUT THAT OF YOUR ACCURSED DRAGON—!!!"
Emy's words were cut short as Jasmine sprang into action, her colossal jaws capturing the vengeful sorceress in an unyielding grip. In an instant, the life force drained from Emy's form, her final monologue forever silenced. Jasmine's ensuing actions were as swift as they were decisive—she expelled the lifeless remains of the once-dangerous adversary in a chilling display of finality.
With urgency dictating our every move, we wasted no time in orchestrating our escape. I carefully gathered the wounded Rudolf, my arms cradling his weakened body, while Seris and Gaz assumed the responsibility of carrying his unconscious wife, Kyrie. The dire situation was unambiguous—Rudolf's grievous injury, a punctured heart, necessitated immediate medical intervention for his survival. Likewise, Kyrie's well-being hung in the balance, demanding urgent attention.
Jasmine propelled us skyward once more, yet the respite was brief as a colossal magma projectile hurtled perilously close to our position. A chilling realization dawned as I turned to assess the source—a Magma Dragon, airborne and belligerent, with none other than Nox astride its imposing form.
"You think you can elude me?" Nox's voice boomed with unmistakable authority. His actions mirrored his words, manifesting a formidable portal that bore witness to the arrival of the fearsome zombie Estoff Wraith and the lifeless Seraphim Dragon.
Nox's presence defied the logic of mortality, a reality that I struggled to reconcile. The specter of his continued existence was a testament to the boundless depths of his malevolence. An unspoken plea echoed within me—let him remain vanquished, for the world was already shackled by the repercussions of his actions.
Amidst the relentless onslaught, my Rainbow Dragon's evasive prowess defied the volley of magma balls launched our way—each dodged with unwavering precision. As a fiery sixth projectile hurtled toward us, I summoned my Fusion Bolt spell, channeling its electrifying power to collide with the incendiary rock. The resulting detonation was a dazzling spectacle of elemental forces clashing. But the barrage persisted, magma projectiles continuing to rain down, threatening my comrades' safety.
Desperation fueled my actions as I employed a symphony of projectile spells to intercept the molten threats, sparing my companions from the perilous onslaught. The urge to summon my Dracaryx surged within me, yet the recognition of the dire circumstances tempered that inclination—activating the Rainbow Road would mean sacrificing one of our means of escape.
A sudden twist unfolded as Estoff Wraith's inanimate form became the focal point of an enigmatic light energy gathering. A thunderous proclamation followed, a directive for my dragon, Dracaryx, to unleash a formidable ability known as the "Crusader Arrow." A magnificent bow materialized in Estoff Wraith's spectral hand, and from it, a luminous arrow of immense magnitude took form, aimed directly at our vulnerable position.
Seemingly trapped without recourse, I held my breath, the precipice of defeat looming ominously. Yet, a timely intervention altered the course of fate. The words "Activate Splatoon Burst!" erupted from my lips, heralding a torrent of colossal, pinkish projectiles that surged forth, descending like a bizarre rain upon the Magma Dragon, Seraphim Dragon, and their riders. The onslaught of bubblegum-like entities bombarded our adversaries, shrouding them in an inexplicable gooey mass.
The impact proved transformative—zombie Estoff Wraith, ensnared in the gummy deluge, lost equilibrium, inadvertently redirecting the devastating Crusader Arrow skyward. The heavens ignited with an awe-inspiring display as the arrow burst forth in a resplendent cross-shaped explosion that rent the sky with a deafening roar.
The Magma Dragon and Seraphim Dragon, their formidable might quelled by the pink embrace, plummeted uncontrollably to the bustling streets below. Nox, ensnared in the same iridescent embrace, met a similar fate, the tide of events sealing his voice within the confines of the sticky substance. In a cascade of events, the precarious threat was nullified, the cacophony of battle replaced by a momentary respite.
Before us stood the S.S. Liberty, a Task Force-exclusive airship helmed by General Holster. His resolute figure was framed against the backdrop of the vessel, clutching his unconscious dragonoid spouse, Iris. The presence of Dracaryx, the enigmatic and formidable dragon, was unmistakable—its influence undoubtedly played a pivotal role in our timely salvation.
Upon landing the airship, a flurry of action ensued as we collectively mobilized to transport Kyrie and Rudolf to the airship's medical ward. Alongside the princess and the young dragonoid, we navigated the corridors with haste, our sense of urgency palpable. The sight of Rudolf, drenched in his own blood, was met with shock from those we encountered along the way—Amphere, his dragonoid, the forlorn Amphere, the youthful duchess, and Richard. Their eyes widened in astonishment and dismay as they bore witness to the grievous state of our comrade.
This somber procession continued into the operation room, where the atmosphere was laden with tension and apprehension. Amphere's anxiety was palpable as he assisted the medical team, gently applying pressure to staunch the flow of blood from Rudolf's grievous wound. Desperation marked his efforts, a futile struggle to prevent any further loss, although the reality was unforgiving—Rudolf's body had already been ravaged by profound trauma, and his heart had been irreparably compromised.
The doctor's pronouncement was a heartrending echo of inevitability: "I'm sorry. We've lost him." The brutal truth pierced the air, sealing Rudolf's fate within the unforgiving grip of mortality. The medical team pivoted their attention to Kyrie, conducting a thorough assessment of her condition. Unlike her husband, Kyrie's injuries were less dire, a small consolation in the midst of our collective sorrow.
Grief became tangible as Seris and the other women retreated from the room, their anguished tears an expression of their shared loss. Remaining were Richard, Amphere, and myself, the weight of our fallen comrade's absence hanging heavy in the air. Amphere's raw devastation manifested in an intimate and poignant act—he laid his head upon Rudolf's lifeless chest, a final gesture of profound connection to his dear friend, now forever gone.
Richard's voice trembled, weighed down by the enormity of the losses we had suffered. "F-First Reina, now Rudolf. What the hell just happened?" His words carried the raw emotion of a man grappling with the incomprehensible.
The mention of Reina Fleuret sparked a surge of concern within me. Reina—a name fraught with significance—what could have transpired to invoke such distress?
As the somber atmosphere threatened to consume us, Amphere's anguish manifested in an explosive display of fury. His enraged cry reverberated through the room, the sheer force of his emotions causing the very walls to quiver and crack.
However, a voice emerged from the midst of the turmoil—a fragile yet determined utterance from Kyrie, who had awoken amidst the chaos. Struggling against her own physical frailty, Kyrie conveyed a cryptic message, her words laden with urgency. "T-There's something you h-have to know... C-Cleru... Knows... Dragunov and Necross."
Her revelation hung in the air, leaving us with more questions than answers. Yet, Kyrie's strength waned, and she succumbed to unconsciousness once more, tears streaming down her cheeks.
In a swift and jarring turn of events, Amphere unleashed a surge of power, summoning a Deus Ex Machina arm that struck me with unrelenting force. The impact was devastating, driving the breath from my lungs as I collided with the unyielding wall. The world seemed to narrow as other appendages pinned me in place, rendering me immobile and vulnerable. Pain coursed through my body, each twinge a sharp reminder of the choices that had led to this harrowing juncture.
Amphere's eyes bore into me, ablaze with unquenchable rage. His demand for a reckoning hung heavily in the air, a plea for answers that I could no longer evade. The weight of responsibility pressed upon me, my conscience burdened with the weight of lives lost and the irrevocable consequences of my actions.