None of the standing members of Silver Sword can see Vira, the curtain of torrential rain and darkness blocking their view.
Yet, Mirra smiles and both she and Caor command even more attention with electricity and light. Dent meanwhile, crouches in preparation to block any attack.
Vira can see the three fools quite clearly and collects her shadows. The spell zips from beneath her and goes beneath the three. Gigantic black spikes stab skyward.
Dent was prepared to react and is able to slash the tips off but is unable to halt the force.
The three are catapulted away, disappearing into the rainy, burning city. She frowns. The electrical punch from the brawler had given Vira the space necessary to gain an upper hand but their teamwork prevented their demise.
Vira reaches up to remove the dagger still embedded in her face.
An arrow zips past, the aim too disturbed by the steaming rain to fly true.
She back-steps, searching for the source and catches sight of several enchanted spears powered by various spells being thrusted at her.
With one hand, she raises a shield of shadows, trapping the weapons in their grasp. Her other hand punches forward, reversing the spears and their spells on the attackers.
Another spear immediately follows up, missing Vira by a hair's breadth.
She spins around the attack and grabs hold of the attacker's arm. The spearman recoils but can't get away. Vira grabs hold of his hand with a vice grip.
Vira scowls. Unlike what she thought, Mirra hadn't made a mistake but rather sent her into the jaws of the city's warriors.
A second spearman tries to rescue their comrade but it is all for naught. Vira easily catches the second spear.
The two barely have a chance to scream as Vira swings them around and uses them as a human shield. The metal and flesh contorting viciously beneath the enchanted strike from a hammer-wielding warrior.
Spells whiz past from even more of the city's defenders but Vira's focus is set on the large, armoured warrior. Fire explodes around her feet as she dashes up to the giant person.
In one fell swoop, she punches through their neck armour and tears out their throat. Blood gushes and gurgles, staining the rain and her face red.
She drops a seed of shadows and throws the bloodied body at the crowd of enemies. Seconds later, the seed she planted explodes outward, spikes piercing everything in the immediate vicinity.
Waves of disrupted mana pulse out and various incomplete spells explode in sequence, completely obliterating the street they were coming in from.
Vira shudders, her body falling apart faster and faster. She should have held onto at least one person to replace her damaged limbs.
Once more, she tries to remove the dagger from her face.
Another arrow flies at her, this time splitting the tip of her nose horizontally.
She recoils away as another arrow flies by only for Vira to run into a spinning spear wielded with needle-like precision by a person wearing a sallet helmet.
Based on the style of the spearman's armour and exceptional skill, they are an elite warrior. Even the varying path of arrows supporting the hypnotic stabs means the unseen archer is on the same level.
The two have greater teamwork than the otherworlders even if they hold only a fraction of the power. Neither of the two give Vira space to summon any spells, be it shadow or fire.
Yet.
The battle tactics of New Pinacca were a little different, a little more refined, yet they were still the martial arts that came about when Vira had first been summoned as a hero all those years ago.
Vira flashes a condescending sneer as she finds the cadence and steps to the side. She catches the spear with one hand. With the other, she grabs the spearmans' chestplate, lifts them over her head and flings them at the archer hiding among the rubble.
The two slam into each other and the following force is still more than enough to send the pair crashing through a building further back and causing it to collapse on them.
Vira takes a breath, not because she needs it as an Undead but out of self-soothing habit.
Mistake.
A broadsword swings down over her head.
Vira sidesteps the strike but is unable to avoid it completely. The tip of the sword hits her cheek.
What would have been a shallow nick catches the end of the dagger and together, the impact is enough to rip a chunk of flesh from Vira's face as well as finally freeing the dagger from its fleshy sheath.
Vira cries out in a fiery rage and faces her attacker. A bucket-helmed swordsman adorned with a bloody pink and silver sash across his chest faces her.
His sword swings through the rain but Vira immediately cascades shadows around him before he gets too close. The tendrils encapsulate the swordsman's arms and legs, disarming the assailant and forcing him to his knees.
Vira's face is contorted with rage. The bone white of her teeth and serpentine tongue visible beneath the pulsating undead muscles.
She grabs his helm and forces him to look at her. Venomous rage seething from her every word. "Not even your ashes shall remain."
"And your name will be forgotten." He spits back. Voice fragile and weak but an air of confidence lingering even in the face of death.
Vira opens her mouth inhumanly wide as an ear-piercing whistle rings out.
A tiny ball of fire forms, the intense magical power building in tandem with the whistling.
Then, a raging flood of highly pressurised flame gushes forth, flooding into his helmet and cascading over his body for several metres past. The venomous green fire fanning outward is so hot, the torrential rain creates a shell of steam from the intensity even after the fire spell abated.
Vira kills the spell, trampling the ashes as she takes stock of herself. The flesh of her neck, lower jaw, and skin around her lips were blackened. A stark contrast to her pale white colour yet blending in seamlessly to her clothes.
She desperately needs to take new body parts.
Through the falling torrent, Vira's undead eyes picked out Winter and his parents, with wand and staff up while the opposite side has the three otherworlders returning to the scene. However, she also picks up on two other mana sources closer to the Star Sea.
"The illusionist and Terra mage." She recalls.
Vira needs space and privacy. The Dominator's Flame will be her shield and salvation. No living being can cross it without burning to ash and as long as she makes it tall enough, the battle weary opposition won't be able to cross it before Vira has a chance to recover new body parts.
So long as the spell doesn't consume her first.
Vira crosses her arms, commanding the fire once more. She takes several controlled breaths as the brilliant green flame encircles her. Then she releases the power all at once, raising her arms up to command the power.
Fiery walls roar to life, encircling a wide area and rising several dozen metres into the air.
Even the kneeling gashadokuro is struck by the fire but its magic immune body acts as a seamless addition to the flaming defence.
The air within the ring of fire heats up, evaporating much of the torrent from outside. Yet Vira's focus is diverted down.
Her right hand has only the thumb, pinky, and middle finger remaining. The forearm has so little flesh remaining, Vira can see the bones. Her left arm is charred but nowhere close to the severe damage of the right.
The rest of her body retains several slashes, piercings, and bludgeoning from the battle and, much to her surprise, an arrow is embedded in her knee. Without healing or restoration magic however, this tireless undead body could only take her so far.
"No matter," Vira assesses the damage with a cold gaze. "I'll be able to replace these soon enough."
She breaks the arrow off and strides toward where the two women's mana signatures linger.