She looked at him, the one she would face. That grinning mask hid his expression, and while his outstretched hand hung in the air, his posture was relaxed. She could not tell what was going through this boy's head. But she was keenly aware of one thing: he was a threat to them, to their goals.
("I'll not let one human break down all we've had to achieve.") Within her soul, Arne resonated with her claim. Yes, they would kill this boy before he became even more of a threat. They would reclaim their world. Yes, he needed to be put down now, and she would use every ounce of her strength to achieve that. And so she tensed her legs in preparation.
Her long green hair billowed behind her as she charged, the air seemingly crackled with the ozone burn of her inhuman speed. With a thunderclap that shook the ground, she arrived before Mikoto, her fist a battering ram aimed at his chest. Mikoto raised his left forearm in a seemingly casual block. The impact, however, was anything but. The force of Beatrice's blow sent a jolt through his entire body, the air exploding outwards in a sonic boom as his body shot through the air under the impact. The impact site around his arm became a macabre display. Despite the shimmering defensive wards that would usually deflect such attacks, Beatrice's fist seemed to have devoured them. The intricate patterns of mana flickered and died, revealing Mikoto's arm beneath in a horrifying spectacle. His sleeve disintegrated, showing black veins snaking up his once-pale skin, the flesh shriveling at an alarming rate. Even the bone itself seemed to be turning brittle and gray.
Mikoto reacted with the barest flicker of surprise. As the decay ate away at his arm, his movements became a fast blur. He twisted mid-air, propelled by the force of the blow, and his right hand flashed with a red light. Before the decay could reach his vital organs, he slammed a thin blade of energy into his own bicep, severing the limb just above the encroaching darkness. The severed arm, now a grotesque caricature of its former self, clattered to the ground, devoured by the decay in a matter of seconds.
"No hesitation..." Beatrice, momentarily stunned by this self-inflicted amputation, quickly recovered. A cruel grin stretched across her face, widening as she saw the raw stump of Mikoto's arm. But her triumphant smile was short-lived. In its place bloomed a look of disbelief as a pink tendril of flesh sprouted from the open wound. It grew with incredible speed, bone knitting itself back together, muscle reforming, skin stretching taut. Within seconds, Mikoto stood whole once more, even his missing sleeve reformed itself. Beatrice clicked her tongue in annoyance.
She raised her right hand and extended her index finger, a dark orb materialized at the tip of her outstretched index finger. It pulsed with an unnatural energy, a tangible hunger radiating from it. Then, with a flick of her hand, she unleashed it. The orb shot forward, morphing into a colossal wave of pure annihilation. It slammed into the forest floor, a tidal wave of dark mana that ripped through the earth, leaving behind a chasm of decayed and dead matter. Trees dissolved into nothingness, the very air itself seemed to curdle and writhe under the assault. Mikoto stood uncaring. As the wave washed over him, a shimmering sphere of his mana erupted from his body, encasing him entirely.
The dark energy slammed into the barrier, sizzling and sparking. The barrier itself flickered, its edges thinning and fraying under the onslaught. But Mikoto was relentless. He poured more and more mana into the barrier, restoring it at a faster rate than she could decay it. Inch by inch, he held firm, the barrier slowly regaining its original brilliance. Finally, with a deafening screech, the wave of annihilation dissipated. Mikoto deactivated the barrier. He surveyed the devastation around him, a vast swathe of the forest transformed into a wasteland of decayed earth. He supposed she was not a Chaosmaw for no reason.
"You certainly are a resilient little pest," Beatrice spat, a note of begrudging anger in her voice. "But even cockroaches meet their end." Mikoto ignored her, his eyes narrowed in concentration.
("This type of magic, this decay... it's unlike anything I've encountered before. Hexes, curses, they exist, yes, but this seems different, more primal, more fundamental. It almost gnaws at the very essence of everything with life itself.")
"Some interesting magic, not necessarily decay but your mana particles are sentient somewhat. And they eat away at the life force of anything living, while draining the mana of everything not?" he finally spoke, his voice still calm. Her eyes widened at the eerily accurate description of her unique magic.
"Knowing that will not help you!" she roared, her voice grating. "I will still be your death!" Her words were a prelude to action. From behind her, countless dark spears materialized, each vibrating with unholy energy. With a deafening roar, they launched themselves towards Mikoto, a relentless swarm of spears.
"I see these spears must have the same properties as the 'decay,'" he leisurely thought. Mikoto easily danced through the onslaught, not even a single hair was marked. His movements were a blur to anyone; he weaved between the spears, his body leaving trails of afterimages. Each spear slammed into the forest floor with an explosion, kicking up plumes of dust and debris. Beatrice, undeterred, continued her assault. The ground trembled as she slammed a hand onto the forest floor, unleashing another wave of decay. The wave raced towards Mikoto, a black tide of destruction. But he wouldn't be caught flat-footed this time. With an explosive burst of mana, Mikoto propelled himself skyward, leaping over the wave with ease.
As he soared through the air, a giant glyph, a shimmering sigil of black, flared into existence behind him. A moment later, a streak of black energy shot from the glyph, aimed directly at him. Mikoto reacted instinctively, his body twisting in mid-air with impossible agility. He contorted himself into a corkscrew, the black energy searing past him with a hiss. He landed gracefully on a crumbling tree trunk, the decaying wood groaning under his weight. Beatrice adjusted her strategy, a flicker of frustration crossing her still beautiful features. With a snarl, she ripped another spear from the darkness that surrounded her. This one was different, thicker and adorned with glowing runes and dark barbed wire. She charged towards Mikoto.
"Well then, let's have ourselves a duel." Mikoto countered by creating a simple silver sword in his right hand. As Beatrice attacked, her spear all but became a blur of her deadly intent, Mikoto moved with boredom. He didn't attempt to overpower her, instead relying on precise movements and deflecting blows with the flat of his blade. Sparks erupted with each clash, the clang of metal echoing through the ruined forest. Their fight became a large movement of contestant motion, their fight tearing through the remaining healthy trees. Beatrice, fueled by rage, unleashed a succession of attacks, each one powerful enough to shatter mountains. Yet, Mikoto remained untouched, his silver blade deflecting every blow. They carved a path of destruction through the forest, leaving behind splintered wood, uprooted trees, and craters filled with decayed earth. The fight seemed to go on forever, a tireless storm of violence.
Beatrice roared in frustration, but something was wrong. As Mikoto deflected another blow, he noticed a subtle shift in Beatrice's movements. A glint of cunning flickered in her dark eyes. A cruel smile stretched across her face, a smile that would send a shiver down the spine of most.
"You're strong I admit," Beatrice rasped, her voice ragged, "but have you considered... why I unleashed such large attacks?"
"Hm?" Just then something pierced his shoulder, back, and abdomen in quick succession, spikes of mana seemingly forced from nothingness. A smile of glee and pleasure filled Beatrice's face.
"I win." Those words left her mouth just as a fist crashed against her cheek. "Huh?" And then a sonic boom that shook the ground beneath their feet, her feet left the ground as her body became a mere projectile soaring through the sky until crashing against a row of trees that were all but mowed down by her, though they served to slow her journey in the sky as she unceremoniously crashed into the ground. "Gah!" Blood spattered from her mouth, and her cheek seared with pain.
"Tsk, tsk. You think I didn't know what you were trying to do?" Mikoto appeared a few feet away from her downed form, looking none the worse for wear.
("But how, I've injected my mana into him.") She looked on incredulously. ("His blood, his cell, his organs. They should've been decaying!")
"With those large attacks of you, you left mana lingering in the air." He placed a finger on the side of his head. "You'd have to be a grade-A idiot not to notice. I only took the attack so I could develop some counters for it, oh well..." Beatrice rose to her feet sluggishly; there was only one direct attack yet he felt weak, her vision was blurry, and her form sluggish. "You know it was so nice of you to fuse with dear Arne, now it's two for one."
Mikoto, his hand raised towards her, he drew two glyphs in the air – one a large black circle pulsating with a similar malevolent energy on the forest floor beneath him, the other hovering in front of him, mirroring the first. Beatrice, regaining some semblance of awareness, looked on in horror. This wasn't any spell– he was wielding her own twisted power against her.
A wave of pure annihilation erupted from the glyph on the ground, a tidal wave of darkness that ripped through the air towards Beatrice. It was a grotesque reflection of her own attack, amplified a thousandfold. Despair washed over her face. The raw power radiating from the wave was unlike anything she had ever encountered. She had underestimated him, underestimated his ability for destruction and to turn her own strength against her.
But then her fusion whined, particles of Arne defused from her, a colossal black form materialized in front of her, engulfing her entirely. It was Arne, his massive body a parody of a shield. He had broken their fusion, sacrificing himself to absorb the brunt of the attack. Beatrice screamed, a primal, raw sound that tore through the ruined forest. "Arne, no! Don't do this!"
Arne, his demonic form already flickering with the decay brought about by Mikoto's magic, held firm. He looked down at Beatrice, his one remaining eye filled with a strange tenderness. "Live... on," he rumbled in a voice that shook the very ground. "Please."
The wave of destruction slammed into Arne, engulfing him in its dark embrace. Beatrice screamed again, a sound that resonated with a deep, soul-crushing sorrow. The wave eventually subsided, leaving behind an empty space where Arne once stood. His hulking form, his care, all reduced to a faint wisp of smoke dissipating in the sky.
Beatrice slumped to the ground, tears streaming down her face, etching black tracks through the ash and grime that coated her skin. The fight was over, and she had lost. More importantly, she was utterly alone. The world around her seemed to lose its color, draining into a dull, monotonous gray.
"Arne...." She sobbed out, she'd been reduced to a sniveling little girl, but Mikoto did not care. He moved to finish her off but then he stopped, someone suddenly appeared beside her. He was a young man, neat short black hair and gleaming red eyes. He wore what looked like a black military uniform adorned with red, beside him hovered a large dark blade, glyphs on each end of the blade keeping it afloat.
"You're not a Von Auerswald."