She had always been a weak girl, easily swayed by the opinions of others. Her parents, convinced of her musical talent, had urged her to pursue a career as a singer, their dreams for her future overshadowing her own aspirations.
In the past, she had always yearned to be an actress, to lose herself in the roles she played, to bring characters to life on the stage. But her parents' disapproval had stifled her ambitions, forcing her to conform to their expectations. She had spent years singing, her voice but an instrument that filled the halls of palaces and churches. Yet her heart was not in it. She still remembered the one evening when, as she stood on the balcony of her family's estate, gazing at the starry sky, she felt a pang of longing. She yearned for a life filled with adventure, passion, and purpose. She wanted to break free from the constraints of her society and pursue her own dreams. With that newfound determination, she had decided to defy her parents' wishes and pursue a career in acting.
She packed her belongings and left home, embarking on a journey that would change her life forever to pursue what she wanted. She traveled to distant lands, seeking out opportunities to perform on stage. Her talent and dedication soon caught the attention of renowned theater directors, and she quickly established herself as a rising star. Her performances were hailed as masterpieces, and her ability to embody a wide range of characters captivating audiences. She played tragic heroines, mischievous spirits, and valiant knights; each role spoke volumes of her versatility. Through her performances, she found a sense of belonging and purpose that she had never experienced before.
However, that newfound success came at a price. She had sacrificed her family's love and approval, and the loneliness she felt was something constant. She missed her parents, her childhood home, and the simple pleasures of life she had once taken for granted. However, she was well aware that her past was not without its challenges. Even if she were able to go back in time to those moments, she would be unable to change the course of events, and the mistakes she had made in the past would remain unchanged. Her parents would have continued to push her towards a career she did not want, yet all the same she felt a pang of regret for the path she had chosen.
Despite her past, she had found solace in the memories she had created. She realized that her journey had been a necessary one and that the experiences she had gained had shaped her into the person she was today. But she had someone to thank for that; she still remembered the memories so vividly a year ago in the confines of the capital city of Galadriel. She had to travel a lot for her roles, and she found herself so far from home.
The city of Galadriel, a sprawling metropolis bathed in the golden hues of a sun, was a sight to behold. Towering spires reached towards the heavens, their ornate facades adorned with carvings and vibrant frescoes. The streets were teeming with life, that of merchants, artisans, and travelers from all over.
She found herself standing in the heart of this bustling metropolis, her gaze drawn to the magnificent statues that had been erected in honor of Octavia, the goddess of war, magic, and navigation. These statues, each a masterpiece of craftsmanship, depicted Octavia as a powerful and graceful warrior, her form clad in exquisite armor, wielding an odd-looking blade and a large spear while a feathered helm adorned her head.
As she had wandered through the city, she was captivated by the festive atmosphere that pervaded the air. The streets were adorned with colorful banners and garlands, and the sounds of music and laughter filled the city. People were gathered together, celebrating the upcoming festival in honor of Octavia. Despite the joyous ambiance, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had crept into her heart. She was a stranger in a strange land, and the thought of being alone in this vast and unfamiliar city filled her with apprehension.
As she turned a corner, she had found herself trapped in a narrow alleyway, her path blocked by three burly men. Their eyes raked over her with a lascivious gleam.
One, the largest of the three grinned, "Ya know delicate lasses like you with such fine asses shouldn't go wandering alone."
"Yeah, it ain't safe; with the festival bringing so much noise, anything could happen." A lanky one chuckled out.
"How about coming with us, girly?" The fat one spat out, a lecherous smile on his face.
"We'll keep you really safe." Isabella remained frozen in place, her heart pounding in her chest. She tried to ignore their taunts, but their words were like daggers, piercing her. Despite being a spawn, she was not made for combat; she could but pray.
Just as the men were about to make their move, a figure emerged from the shadows at the end of the alley. It was a young woman, approximately her own age, her beauty striking. Her hair, a cascade of snow-white strands, framed her delicate features, and her eyes, a vibrant shade of red, seemed to glow with an inner fire. She was dressed in a black uniform adorned with gold, a symbol of an academy on her shoulder. She looked just like a dream—the prettiest girl she had ever seen.
"T-that's!?"
"What the hell is someone like her doing here!?"
"Shit!" The men recognizing the young woman's identity immediately became agitated. They muttered threats and curses, their voices filled with fear. The young woman, however, remained calm and seemingly annoyed.
"Ugly fuckers like you give Galadriel a bad name." The white-haired girl spat out in hostility. It seemed a bit absurd that a girl with such an angelic appearance could be so vulgar. "I rather not waste my precious mana on putting you pigs to the ground, so scram." She leveled a glare that pierced their very being. The men, cowed by her presence, turned and fled, their retreat an undignified scramble. Isabella watched them go, her heart pounding with relief. She had been saved, and by a girl who was as beautiful as she was brave. But she recognized the whitehaired girl.
"You're...you're her!" She grew wide-eyed in admiration. "The spawn of Octavia, Lucinda."
"Astute observation," Lucinda rolled her eyes. "What gave it away?" She seemed rather annoyed at being recognized.
"I'm sorry, it's just..." She shook her head sheepishly. "I am Isabella, and thank you for helping me."
Lucinda merely gave an annoyed huff, "You wouldn't need any help if you weren't idiotic enough to go wandering into alleys alone; how dense are you?"
"Well, I'm new to Galadriel, and I was a tad overwhelmed from all the celebrating." Isabella smiled wryly. "And I could've used some silence; big mistake on my part."
Lucinda merely quirked up a brow at that. "You don't say." The spawn of Octavia leaned against the alley wall, folding her arms under her chest as she seemingly pondered something. "You're weak."
"Wha-"
"Seems like you can't even defend yourself, so be grateful." Lucinda spat out. "I'll show you around the city."
Isabella blinked at that, not expecting that kind of hospitality from someone so...vulgar. "Really?"
"Yeah, but only when this festival celebration dies down, I'm easy to recognize by these worthless plebes trouncing about. We won't get anywhere if they keep stopping us." She reasoned, and Isabella nodded astutely.
"Right! Thank you for this!" This was a spark of good luck in this long journey. One she really needed, she was beginning to become unsure of her path. Wondering if she should just return to her family. But she doubted they would accept her now; she heaved a silent sigh as an uncomfortable silence settled in the alley. She glanced at Lucinda, who was looking out the alley where the festivities were still going rapid. The girl seemed annoyed at the very prospect of it, but the spawn of Octavia was not at all what she imagined. Her beauty did hold up, of course, but still, she was kind of mean. "Uhm, so, I heard that the spawn of Octavia was going to participate in this year's festival." Isabella started, looking for any way to start a conversation.
"That's right, fuckers up top want to send me in the heat of battle as soon as possible." Lucinda scowled, "I've never even been in a serious fight, yet I've been chosen to fight in this damn festival. It doesn't help that I just feel so angry and annoyed since May."
Being forced to do something she did not want to sounded a lot like her very own situation. Though more severe for Lucinda, it seems. Isabella could relate to that at the very least.
"What the hell brings you to Galadriel though?" Lucinda suddenly asked; it seemed curiosity had her as well.
"Well, I'm a stage actor, and I've got a role here in the capital." Isabella answered smoothly.
"An actor?" Lucinda quirked up a brow at that. "Judging from your hair and eye color, you're that songstress Goddesses spawn. I thought you'd be a singer or something."
Isabella smiled wryly at that. "My parents did want me to pursue a career in singing." She gave a humorous chuckle. "They all but forced it on me, and I kind of ran away... to pursue acting." She finished sheepishly, "Stupid, I know, but it's the 'bravest' thing I've done, yet even so, I still regret leaving them."
Lucinda remained silent for a few passing seconds. "Don't feel regret," she stated. Isabella gave her a confusing glance. "You're pursuing your dreams, are you not? This is something that makes you happy, no? If so, push forward and realize your dream fully; do not hesitate just because others oppose your dream. Be proud of it, for it is what you want." Lucinda gave a smile, a genuine one that made her look more angelic. "I sure wish I could."
"But..." Isabella frowned. "Sometimes I can't help but hesitate and look back; be fearful that it will all be for naught. I just feel like a scared little girl sometimes."
Lucinda merely scoffed, "Being scared ain't a sin or something you idiot. It shows you're 'normal', humane. Don't be ashamed of having fear, even I-" She quickly cut herself off by clearing her throat. "Point is you have a chance to follow what you believe in." Lucinda pushed herself off the wall and turned to the exit of the alley. "So walk forward with pride; now come on, those idiots seemed to have quelled their party attitude."
("Fear isn't a sin; it's normal.") Isabella repeated as she looked at Lucinda in a new light; it was like she was freed from narrow thinking with just a few brief words. It was almost liberating in a way.
--------------------
("I'm scared.") Isabella took a deep breath, her large harp humming in her hands as Agatha hovered beside her. Staring down at Rhiannon, who looked as bored as ever, she had easily taken down Reynard when she decided she wanted to. Now the boy lied unconscious behind them, and she only had five minutes left in her inheritor form. She might actually die here, and of course fear consumed her being, but she was dammed. ("I'll use my fear to liberate myself! At the very least, I want to stop this monster!")
"Agatha! I'll use the last of my mana to boost you to the absolute limit at the right moment, so please finish this." Isabella bellowed. Agatha looked at her a tad surprised at her determination but gave a resolute nod all the same.
"Oh? Seems the fearful little girl has gathered herself." Rhiannon gave a lopsided grin, "By all means, do try your best. Your useless struggling serves as my entertainment."
["Agatha, you no doubt heard of the tails of the Astrothians Titanus and Pyrax. Try to create those two with your magic. We need larger enemies to keep her busy, at least until Mikoto arrives."] Victoria guided as Agatha gave a grunt.
Wisps of luminous mana swirled from Agatha's form, spiraling up into a radiant storm that converged above her, forming nebulous clouds that shifted in color from amber to crimson, a spectacle fit to be called divine. Locking her vision on the horizon, she envisioned the forms of her beasts.
With a final, resounding thrum of mana, the magic unfurled, and the ground trembled as two colossal beasts materialized in a flash of blinding light. The first, the inferno beast named Pyrax, rose forth from the ground, born from flames and embers. Its body, a swirling mass of molten rock and blazing fire, towered like a mountainous volcano and was as large as one, while its eyes glowed like two suns, exuding an aura of searing heat. Adorned with obsidian scales that glistened, the flames sparking around its form.
The second creature, Titanus, seemingly embodied pure unyielding strength—a massive, bipedal beast of stone and earth. Its form was seemingly sculpted from ancient rock, textured like a deep, rugged canyon, with veins of gold threading through its massive limbs. Towering even higher than Pyrax, with arms as thick as the largest of trees and fists capable of shattering mountains, Titanus had emerald eyes that sparkled with wrath. The ground quaked beneath its weight, and with every movement, snow and debris cascaded from its monstrous frame.
With a roar that broke the silence like a lightning strike, Titanus stepped forward, colossal fists raised to the sky. The ground trembled in his onslaught, fierce eyes locked on Rhiannon, who prepared herself with casual movement. Only slightly tensing every sinew of her frame, she gripped the hilt of Radiant Dior. In that breathless moment, Rhiannon's eyes remained passive at the approaching adversary.
With a fierce and primal growl, Titanus brought down his fist with an immense force, the sheer momentum sending a shockwave through the air that threatened to shatter earth and sky alike. The wind whistled ominously as Titanus's fist descended like a cataclysm, aimed directly at Rhiannon, who stood calm.
In a heartbeat, Rhiannon's movements were quick; she sidestepped and leaped away from the colossal fist, its impact sending a wave of destruction in every direction, splattering crystals of ice into shards that glittered. With a ferocity that startled lesser beings, Rhiannon pivoted and jumped towards the beast, the blade of Radiant Dior slicing through the air with the precision of a surgeon. In one fluid motion, she cleaved through the beast's arm—Titanus roared in shock, the severed appendage crashing down like a meteor and sending shockwaves through the ground.
Before the echo of Titanus's pain had fully manifested, Rhiannon struck again. With a speed that belied her immense strength, she unleashed a flurry of strikes, each cut to Titanus perfectly calculated and executed with unerring accuracy. The blade sang a high-pitched sound, Radiant Dior carving the beast into pieces as the remnants of Titanus fell away like the chaff of a harvested field. Agatha watched in annoyance at her creations uselessness.
As the dust settled from Titanus's aspired reign, the atmosphere was thick with a palpable silence. As Rhiannon—loomed before Agatha and Isabella, the remnants of a once-mighty beast now crumbled away like dust in the wind, Pyrax, the inferno beast, shifted its molten gaze towards Rhiannon. Flames moving wildly along its colossal body, a fusion of fire and ash. With a deep rumble that echoed through the chilling void of the snowy expanse, Agatha clenched her fists, focused her mana, and chanted. "From embers to fire, from creation to destruction, birth of the inferno," she chanted, her voice strengthened by the connection to her beasts.
Pyrax recoiled slightly, drawing upon the volcanic energy within, its body radiating an intense heat that rippled through the air, creating a shimmering mirage. The temperature soared, igniting a blaze of colors that flickered between crimson and gold. It lifted its massive arms, allowing fire to swirl around its limbs until, with a primal roar that reverberated through the atmosphere, Pyrax released an immense torrent of flame—an arc of pure destructive energy, ironically, that shot forth like the wrath of a god, streaking toward Rhiannon with unrelenting speed.
The sheer magnitude of the inferno unleashed was absurd in display. Tendrils of signature fire spiraled across the battlefield, converging into a singular wave of destruction that consumed everything in its path. The icy mountain nearby, a towering sentinel of frozen peas, trembled under the force of Pyrax's firestorm, its white pinnacle now igniting into a ferocious orange blaze that devoured the surface, sending clouds of ash tumbling into the ether. Flames licked voraciously at the sides of the mountain, igniting a cascade of destruction as chunks of ice and rock tumbled toward the ground like meteors in a rain of fire.
Isabella watched in awe as the flame twisted and coalesced, surging forth in an extraordinary display of raw energy as it engulfed Rhiannon. Streaming embers burst forth in every direction like fireworks on a dark night, illuminating the snowy plane. The heat pierced through the freezing atmosphere, igniting the very fabric of the landscape—a hellish scene of collision and combustion; it felt as though the world had caught ablaze around them.
Yet, amidst the absurd destruction, Rhiannon stood firm, her golden armor gleaming defiantly against the inferno. She merely squinted at the massive wave of fire engulfing her, her expression one of wicked amusement. The wave of fire caused a cataclysmic explosion while engulfing her that flared outward in every direction, sending out shockwaves that sent chunks of snow and debris flying into the air. Rhiannon looked unscathed as the flames began to die down, revealing the surroundings coated in charred remnants, smoke curling into the sky.
"Is that all you've got, sweetheart?" Rhiannon taunted, her voice lilting with confidence, her red eyes glinting with some amusement rather than boredom as ash fell around her, delicately outlining her form. "I thought divine magic was supposed to be more... than just destruction." Her laughter rang out after.
Agatha frowned as she observed Rhiannon's mocking demeanor. "It's not over just yet," she shot back. She focused on Pyrax, feeling the fire beast's searing energy through the bond they shared.
Channeling her creation magic once more, Agatha unleashed a surge of mana, shifting her focus toward transforming Pyrax. The air seemed to writhe with her mana as radiant symbols of creation danced across her vision. Concentrating deeply, she changed the elemental properties of the beast, entwining the essence of fire with new potential that shimmered with brilliance.
As Agatha worked her magic, Pyrax underwent a metamorphosis. The fire that once flared wildly transformed into a radiant white, a blinding light emerging from its essence that illuminated the battlefield as if dawn had broken tenfold. Flickers of brilliance mixing with its molten frame, casting all shadows aside, and the very essence of existence seemed to warp around the new magnificent being. Its form maintained a semblance of its previous features but now bore an enchanting glow that was—an elemental incarnation of purity and destruction.
Rhiannon's eyebrows arched in genuine surprise, her playful demeanor shifting to one of intrigue. "Now, isn't that interesting?" she whispered to herself, leaning forward slightly, her expression sharpening as she studied the radiant beast.
Agatha tingled with the foreign energy coursing through her veins, focusing intensely on the newly created elemental beast, Pyrax. The transformation she had orchestrated wasn't merely cosmetic; it birthed an entirely new element that resonated with boundless potential. This radiant white energy contained the ability to overload anything it touched, warping reality itself with an exhilarating surge of mana and life energy.
With her mind attuned to Pyrax's form, Agatha envisioned its capabilities—each step it took charged the ground beneath with a vibrant hum, echoing her divine magic through the earth. The massive creature's fiery nuances had blended with an empowering purity, making its very presence feel electric and alive, a force of nature.
"Pyrax, pillage her!" she encouraged, sending a surge of mana through the bond that connected them. In response, the magnificent beast roared, its voice a fusion of flame and light. It sprang forward with astounding speed for such a colossal creature, its form blending into the very light that shaped it, illuminating the air around them in a dazzling display.
As Pyrax charged, the ground shook beneath its thunderous steps, leaving reverberating cracks in the ice. Snow flew into the air like flurries of stars caught in a wild wind. Rhiannon, sensing the shift in tempo, grinned, her posture relaxed yet ready, as though she relished every moment of the inevitable clash.
With a powerful thrust of its gigantic legs, Pyrax lunged toward Rhiannon, its massive arms extended, a series of raw energies rippling around it like a fierce sun unleashing its rays. In that moment, Rhiannon shifted, her movements imbued with uncanny speed as she sidestepped to the right. Pyrax's arm, moving with tremendous force, missed her by mere inches; the air itself howled as the air pressure from its blow displaced the frigid atmosphere. The strike slammed into the ground, releasing a cataclysmic blast as snow and ice erupted in an awe-inspiring explosion of shards, sending fragments of rock and debris skyward.
The impact created a chasm where there had once been stable ground, a furious wave of pressure radiating outward, ripping through the ancient trees that had braced the nearby mountainside and scattering them like matchsticks in the wind. Streams of light enveloped the debris in an absurd display as Pyrax's overwhelming energy began to take effect; the remnants of the once-mighty mountain trembled.
Turning quickly, Pyrax redirected its attention to Rhiannon, its massive chest glowing with a blinding brilliance as it began to channel its newfound power. Energy coalesced within Pyrax, swirling rapidly, forming a concentrated orb of pure white mana resembling a sun. Agatha could feel the immense potency building, the very air vibrating as it reached the peaks of its potential, pushing the boundaries of what was once thought possible.
"Now!" Agatha commanded, her heart racing as she urged the beast forward. With an ear-splitting roar, Pyrax unleashed the beam—a surging torrent of condensed mana—launching through the air like a comet aimed at its demise. The beam streaked with an intensity that left trails of light in its wake, a pillar of raw energy harnessed in the desire for absolute annihilation directed at Rhiannon.
Yet Rhiannon remained unyielding, her eyes narrowed, the glint of something shining through the remnants of snowflakes falling gently around her; she was ready. With a deft movement, she swung her sword, it slicing through the air as she executed a flawless spectacle. The weapon met the center of Pyrax's beam—a catastrophic clash reverberating through the atmosphere as shards of mana erupted from the point of impact.
The force of the collision sent shockwaves spiraling outward, disrupting the very fabric of space around them. Rhiannon's precision cleaved the beam in two, redirecting the remains of the magic away from her. As the two halves of pure mana shot sideways, they touched the earth, igniting a transformation that thrummed with life.
Wherever the remnants touched the ground, the snowy surface erupted in an explosion of greenery, as if the very essence of life had been unleashed after eons of dormancy. Tiny sprouts pushed through the snow, stretching toward the sky as though reaching for salvation; soon, young oak trees erupted, their leaves unfurling with a vibrant green that stood in contrast against the white scenery. Flowers blossomed in radiant hues.
"Look at that," Rhiannon remarked, her voice dipped in mock admiration, watching as lush landscapes unfurled where destruction reigned moments before. "Such a shame I can't trust them to last." Her laughter rang out, a wicked, teasing sound, as vines began to creep around her feet, only to be effortlessly severed by Radiant Dior's blade. Rhiannon's form was lifted from the ground, hovering away from the annoyance of the nature that seemingly fought against her.
As Rhiannon glided through the wintry air, the breeze tousling her golden hair, she surveyed the radiant Pyrax with intrigue. Hovering about twenty feet above the chaos below, she felt the thrumming vibrations of mana flowing through the elemental beast, pulsating with energy in a rhythm that was almost symphonic. In this elevated vantage point, she could admire the patterns of light that spiraled across Pyrax's form, moving with a vibrancy that could draw most in.
["Alright, it's now or never; Isabella enhance Agatha's Beast to its utmost limit using all your mana."] Isabella stepped forward; her harp gleamed under the light of the surrounding mana. As she began to play, the notes danced through the air, resonating with the surrounding nature and even intertwining with the elemental aura of Pyrax. Each strum sent ripples of lush, mana cascading from the instrument and lacing into the very fabric of the field.
The resonance of Isabella's melody enveloped Pyrax, enhancing its very essence, each note reverberating in a blur of power. Agatha's creation pulsed with more vigor as the harp's magic wove through its radiant form, layering mana upon its already immense energy. The elemental beast grew, a spectacle of dynamic proportions as its size eclipsed even the distant mounts surrounding it; new forms and fiery patterns danced across its exterior, showcasing the insignia of the amplified magic surrounding it.
With a thunderous roar, Pyrax surged forward, propelled by Isabella's magic. The heartbeat of the landscape quickened, thudding like a drum. Agatha felt the shift; the massive beast now stood titanic. Once more, the mystical orb of pure white mana began coalescing from its chest. This time, however, it was a force far mightier than anything released thus far. As Pyrax gathered the energy, the air glimmered around it, shimmering with a brilliance that made it appear ethereal against the that of the sky. Rhiannon, now fully aware of the notable crescendo in magic, shifted slightly in the air, both curious and unperturbed by the impending blast.
The mana beam unleashed from Pyrax's chest with cataclysmic force, racing toward Rhiannon with light speed. It surged through the atmosphere like a meteor streaking across the sky, leaving a trail of incandescent energy that enraptured the senses. As the beam approached, Rhiannon realized she possessed the ability to dodge effortlessly; her agile form could evade the destructive deluge, but instead, she chose to stand her ground. Well, she was currently floating, but that was neither here nor there.
In that fleeting moment, as the radiant light enveloped her, she felt a rush of energy wash over her, as though the very essence of the universe was coursing through her. The mana's warmth transformed into a dazzling embrace that wrapped around her fully, swallowing her as though she had merged with the light itself.
The beam blasted into the sky, carrying with it in a spectacular ascent, soaring into the heavens as it pierced through layers of atmosphere and beyond, until it exploded into a radiant spectacle within the cosmic abyss. The eruption of light was tremendous, cascading outward in a wave that illuminated the celestial above, setting an array of stars ablaze. Countless celestial bodies faded into nothingness, their light extinguished under the raw power of Pyrax's unleashed power.
Back on the ground, as earth and sky resonated with the aftershock of the explosion, the dust settled, revealing space reflecting hints of the vibrant colors that had flared moments before. As the light dissipated a expectant hush blanketed the landscape.
And there, floating amidst the remnants of radiant energy, Rhiannon emerged entirely unscathed. A revelation glinted in her red eyes, unfathomable and deep.
"Impressive, but is there more?" Rhiannon pricked with confidence, her voice cutting through the silence, tinged with curiosity and challenge. She surveyed the aftermath, awaiting Agatha's next move, as the beast of brilliance stood idle, its energies still pulsating as it stretched to encompass the full potential of both Agatha's creation and Isabella's enhancement.
Exhaustion settled in the air around Isabella, who leaned against a newly created tree courtesy of Agatha, breathing heavy as she struggled to maintain her presence in this fight. A warm glow encased her form as it reduced her to her original body. Her magical reserves dwindled, and her determination was visibly waning; she wished she could do more.
As Isabella faltered, a predator's instinct sparked within Rhiannon; her ruby eyes narrowed, tracking Agatha's creature—fueled by some small intrigue. In a heartbeat, Rhiannon's demeanor shifted from playful skirmishing to focused boredom. She zeroed in on her target, gathering her momentum.
With a fluid motion, she launched herself from her position, her body a golden blur as she became one with the area. The air parted before her, swirling like currents around a storm, as her speed reached an unreal peak. Time itself seemed to slow down; each detail sharpened in her mind as she honed in on Pyrax. Agatha remained unaware of the imminent strike, absorbed in her connection with the beast and invigorated by its power.
Rhiannon arrived in what felt like an instant, arms extended low, Radiant Dior shimmering with strength. With absurd speed, she spun into the air, the movement a blur in design as she descended upon the creature, time snapped back into place, and the world erupted into chaos.
With a powerful arc, Rhiannon cleaved her sword downwards with absurd speed and strength. The blade met Pyrax's chest, the two forces colliding with a blinding flash of mana—a violent surge echoing through the environment. In that instant, Pyrax was caught mid-roar; the sound stifled as if the very air conspired to silence it. The creature's radiant form was sliced apart like parchment caught in a wildfire, the divide revealing layers of shimmering light and chaotic energy beneath its exterior.
The immense beast lurched, splitting cleanly in two, and flames extinguished within the motivator of that devastating strike. Its halves spiraled in opposing arcs, caught on their respective winds, before bursting into brilliant sparks that scattered like stars across the snowy landscape, each fragment fizzling into nothingness as the very essence of Agatha's creation became undone.
Agatha's expression flickered with disbelief; the energies of her creation diminished in an instant. Rhiannon spun gracefully, landing on the ground amidst the ruins of the radiant beast. An aura of superiority surrounded her now, a sovereign in a realm of chaos. Her voice rang out fiercely, cutting through the aftermath of the expensive display of pure physical strength. "Well, dear, you have my interest. And you too, singing bird." She glanced sideways at the exhausted girl, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips.
"But because of that interest, it's time for me to be a tad serious," she continued, her tone shifting, an edge of danger lacing each syllable. Drawing upon her unique ability, Rhiannon pivoted sharply on her heel.
A ripple surged through the air, a subtle warning that crackled like lightning in the calm. Above her, the fabric of reality began to tear—a gaping red rift ripping through the atmosphere like a wounded maw, exuding an ominous glow that filled the battlefield with a haunting crimson light. Dark tendrils of energy warped and twisted around the edges of the tear, a grotesque mixture of chaos embodying the fracture in existence.
Through the chasm emerged an enormous, grotesque hand, its massive fingers the size of mountains, warped by the unnatural forces it wielded. It reached forth like a eldritch herald. The fingers, gnarled and twisted, pointed directly at Agatha and Isabella, as if singling them out for judgment.
Slowly, an enormous red orb began to take form above the grotesque palm, pulsating like a heart of destruction, gathering energy with an unsettling allure. The orb shimmered ominously, feeding off the chaotic energies swirling around it, growing larger with each passing moment, drawing in momentum for whatever nefarious purpose lay ahead.
Agatha stared up at the looming spectacle, her shock eclipsed her determination. "This isn't magic," she noted, her voice one of disbelief.
Rhiannon stood firm beneath the immense hand, a devil-may-care attitude enveloping her once more as the orb flickered to life with concentrated power. "This will be entertaining," Rhiannon remarked, a wicked grin spreading across her face. In that dark moment all eyes were fixed on the crimson sphere.
Agatha exchanged a glance with Isabella, uncertainty flickering in her emerald eyes. The specter loomed heavy between them; how could they possibly counter something like? Even with their full mana reserves, it would have been impossible. The orb swelled larger, a swirl of red light spilling around its surface.
"Isabella… I'm not sure if I can do anything." Agatha whispered, her voice trembling with concern. Isabella, all but felt the weight of Agatha's words, she clenched her fists tightly as though bracing for impact.
"Agatha, we have to hold on! We can't give in!" Isabella replied, her voice steady, but within, uncertainty gnawed at her own resolve. She could feel the insatiable energy swirling around them—an inexorable tide of chaos that threatened to drown their very beings. Every instinct screamed at her to flee, to protect herself from the wrath manifesting above them.
The breathtaking orb, now the size of a small house, flickered with incandescent shades of crimson, promising obliteration as tendrils of red energy moved at its edges, creating a violent storm of light and fury. With a thunderous echo, the grotesque hand clenched, and an ear-splitting roar resonated from the tear as the sheer force unleashed itself. A catastrophic wave of pulsing red energy surged forward, a sweeping tide aimed directly at Agatha and Isabella, the rush of imminent annihilation palpable in the air.
Just as the tidal wave of destruction began its descent, poised to erase everything in its path, a figure emerged from nowhere. Clad in heavy black armor that shimmered with a hint of menace, he bore an imposing presence. A full helmet adorned with intricate red sigil shielded his features, obscuring his face. In his grasp, he wielded an exquisite sword known as Sabre; it was Mikoto.
He leapt forward, his movements fast, cutting through the space between them like a shooting star hurtling toward the ground. Time slowed as Agatha and Isabella watched, their breaths hitching at the striking apparition unfolding before their eyes. Mikoto charged headlong into the incoming wave of destruction with an speed that defied logic. In that moment, the world faded into naught but red. Every fiber of his being seemed attuned to the gravitational pull of the orb and its accompanying wave, and as he neared the oncoming tide, he readied himself.
With an ensuing flourish, Sabre arced through the air, a red pathway. The sword met the wave in an exhilarating collision, slicing through the vast expanse of crimson energy with an effortless move that left the two breathless. It was as if the very laws governing strength and destruction had bent to his will, collapsing under the might of his strike.
The impact erupted into an explosion of vivid color—a melding of red hues fracturing like glass under siege. With a fluid motion, Mikoto had cleaved the wave in two, dispersing the chaotic energy outward into harmless fragments that twinkled like dying light. The arc of his strike sent vibrations through the air, reverberating against whatever unseen force had attempted to crush them.
Rhiannon, quirked up a brow in interest. "Oh?" she muttered, momentarily intrigued.
As the remnants of the wave dissipated into cascades of crimson sparks, the air cleared, revealing Mikoto standing before Agatha and Isabella. Mikoto turned slightly, his gauntleted hand resting gently on the hilt of Sabre Mikoto, the blade shimmering.
"Yo Agatha, how's it going?" he asked casually. Agatha could but sigh as a golden glow enveloped her form as she returned to normal.
"You're late, Mikoto." Agatha breathed out. The recent chaos flickered in the back of her mind, the thought that Mikoto was that strong...
Mikoto inclined his head. "The hero is always late; now leave everything to me." His words hung in the air. "Goldie locks over there is too much for you to handle."
Isabella looked from Mikoto to Agatha, understanding dawning in her eyes as she recognized the name, but that was for later. "Trust me, we know that," she breathed out, staring at the distant unconscious form of Reynard cladded in barriers.
"Ah, the dark knight." Rhiannon noted, "You're the one responsible for killing so many of my pets."
"That's right, bunch of weaklings, honestly." He pointed Sabre at the woman.
"Is that so? My, my, it seems a more interesting challenge has arisen. With the air thick with the remnants of Rhiannon's obliterating wave and the lingering echoes of the chaos just a moment before, Mikoto watched the enormous grotesque hand loom menacingly overhead.
Mikoto surged forward, propelled by an overwhelming force of enhancement magic that ignited a red aura all around him. In a matter of heartbeats, he accelerated past hypersonic speeds, his body a blur against all else, melding into the air with ferocity. The world around him transformed into a palette of swirling colors and blurred outlines, as each step became a launching point for his momentum.
His feet kissed the ground, momentarily drawing energy from the earth before propelling him into the air—a graceful leap that turned him into a streak of black and red against the sky. Above him, the grotesque hand of Rhiannon appeared even larger as it hovered, a gaping maw ready to pounce.
As he neared the titanic appendage, he tilted his body into a compact form, arms steady as he targeted the wrist of the arm thrumming with foreign energy. In that fleeting moment—the space suspended just before an impending collision—he swung Sabre upwards with a blinding arc, setting.
The blade met the monstrous flesh with a shattering impact that echoed like lighting. The moment of connection sent shockwaves rippling through the air, the clash resonating with a swift, brutal clarity that sliced into the silence. His sword pierced through, sending a fissure across the surface, traces of blackened energy spilling forth, creating a wave that splattered outward, expelled from the wound he created.
Mikoto pivoted swiftly, employing his momentum to transition seamlessly into the next strike. In one fluid motion, he spun his body, bringing the blade around in a horizontal sweep that cleaved through the tendons and sinewy structure of the grotesque hand's wrist. The severed parts hung tenuously for a split second before collapsing into oblivion, the dark essence dissipating like mist beneath the sunrise.
Mikoto pressed on. He continued to weave through, shortening the distance between himself and the hand's claw-like digits. He launched himself into the air once more, spinning with surgeon-like precision. As he arced upward, he thrust Sabre downward, targeting the clawed fingers that dripped with unfathomable energy.
Slice after slice, he moved through each slash and thrust, bearing the weight of absurd strength. The fingers fell away beneath his onslaught, severed cleanly from the entity above, sending them crashing down in bursts as the dark splinters splayed across the landscape.
Mikoto descended swiftly, changing the angles of his assaults with grace. He pivoted, performing a somersault that carried him beyond the grasp of the flickering remnants of energy spiraling from Rhiannon's arm. With one final stroke, he drove Sabre through the palm, punctuating the ground with the gravitas of his strike. The hand quivered, tremors rippling through its vast structure as he felt the tremor of foreign energy receding.
The grotesque hand finally slumped, cracking under the weight of unrelenting assault. As the arm lost its form, splitting away into slivers that showered down like a dark fog—or perhaps the tears of a monstrosity—Mikoto executed a roll midair, retreating through the unfolding remnants back towards Isabella and Agatha.
"Impressive," Rhiannon purred, her voice smooth yet edged with a lingering of something. "Yet, you should know it only angers me to be interrupted."
Mikoto did not seem to care under her gaze. "Really? Want an apology, you hag?" His voice boomed. Agatha and Isabella looked at him incredulously; he did not seem the least bit intimidating by the woman. And how quickly and savagely he dissected that arm and that tidal wave of foreign energy that threatened to engulf them.
Just what was Mikoto?