All felt the tremendous quake.
The cold nation of Verdantis, the technologically advanced nation of Vel'ryr, and the prominent nation of Galadriel, as well as smaller nations like Zephyria, Terra, Bushido, and Doma, all felt the sudden shake of the world. Denizens of the world once known as Aethel found themselves perplexed at the occurrence. Mountains quaked, forests trembled, and fear engulfed the masses.
But some were too preoccupied to even register the severe tremors. In her Arcane Ascendance form, she exhaled deeply, the environment around them in ruin.
The cobblestone streets were now cracked and uneven, littered with debris and the remnants of shattered buildings. The air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke, mingling with the faint stench of blood. The buildings were now reduced to crumbling ruins. The roofs, once covered in thatch or tiles, had collapsed, exposing the interior to the elements. Broken windows stared out like empty eyes.
Among the ruins, the skeletal remains of buildings could still be discerned. Twisted metal beams protruded from the rubble. Shattered columns lay scattered about, their once ornate capitals now reduced to rubble. The foundations of the buildings were exposed, revealing the network of stone and mortar that had once supported the structures.
In the center of the block, a large, gaping hole marked the site of a collapsed building. The hole was filled with debris, including broken bricks, shattered glass, and twisted metal. The sunlight that filtered through the hole cast eerie shadows on the surrounding ruins.
"Ah! Marvelous!" The one responsible for most of the destruction shouted out, the self-proclaimed Ancestor of malice, Gisèle. "But you are still lost, little one! How will you face the one in the moon! Find your way, little lamb!" Yet again, she spouted nonsensical nonsense that Agatha could not comprehend. Despite the Ancestor's 'calmness,' she was by far more damaged than her opponent. A bloodied right arm was clearly unusable, cuts and bruises decorating her body and dress as well.
("Mirabella and Cor'nella should have cleared the crazed civilians by now,") Agatha deduced as she took the risk to scan the area. Barring the few mad-driven civilians who killed each other, there were no other fatalities. That was mainly due to Mikoto's quick thinking; truly, the boy seemed to be a natural at almost everything, be it magic or saving others. ("But this battle is not as uneven as it was with that Rhiannon woman. This... Ancestor, however, is still matching me while I am in this form,") Agatha's frown deepened, ("I've only four minutes left.")
"You look tired, little one," the sadistic Ancestor noted, with a sickly sweet smile. "Come now, child, that simply will not do! Give it your all so that we may all unite and fight the one in the moon!"
"Insane buffoon," Agatha spat out as she furrowed her brows, "Was this chaos merely spread based on your crazed whims?"
"Lost lamb, these are not whims!" Gisèle insisted as she raised both arms, as if to embrace the chaos surrounding her. "I am saving them! Do you not see!? They are not ready to face it! I saved their very souls."
Agatha scowled as she glared at the Ancestor, "I thought you might have had some sense, but you are too far gone. For your crimes of killing the innocent, I will put a stop to you!" Agatha declared as her mana burst forth in a radiant wave that seemed to engulf all, the crazed smile on Gisèle's face only seemed to grow wider.
With a surge of mana coursing through her, Agatha raised her hands skyward, the air around her tensing with her thick mana. The ground trembled beneath their feet as the earth split open with a deafening roar, and from the abyss emerged a colossal serpent, its scales shimmering with ethereal hues of white and azure. The serpent, coiling and twisting in response to Agatha's command, reared back, revealing fangs sharp enough to pierce even the toughest steel.
With a simple gesture, Agatha directed the serpent towards Gisèle. The creature lunged forward, swallowing the space between them in an instant. Its jaws clamped around Gisèle's waist, and with immense force, it sent her soaring into the air, the bloody dress flaring around her like a tattered banner. Gisèle, momentarily suspended, bore the pain with a twisted smile.
Simultaneously, Agatha focused her attention towards the sky. A brilliant bolt of lightning fractured the sky, its mana pulsating through the area. She unleashed it towards Gisèle, who was spiraling now, wreathed in the fading light as the great serpent faded into particles of mana. The crackling arc of power seared through the air, obliterating everything in its path, as if the skies themselves disapproved of Gisèle.
The moment the lightning struck, a blinding explosion erupted, casting a violent light across the area, illuminating the ruins and kicking up a flurry of dust and debris. However, to Agatha's astonishment, as the smoke began to settle, Gisèle floated down from her aerial trajectory, seemingly untouched. The manic glimmer in her red eyes deepened, laughter bubbling up from her throat like a wild contagion as she landed gracefully on the now-charred earth. Furthermore, as she stood, a haunting calm enveloped her.
("I...I didn't sense any defensive magic being invoked,") Agatha's brows furrowed, ("Is she using just mana to reinforce her defenses? But why is she only taking defensive measures now? No, it doesn't matter,") Agatha gathered her thoughts, channeling her magic as tendrils of mana spiraled around her.
With a sweep of her arms, Agatha conjured a flurry of vibrant green mana, her aura flickering like the life force of creation itself. Hundreds of luminous orbs, each pulsating with raw, magical energy, materialized before her. They hovered, suspended, arranged meticulously in swirling formations, spinning slowly around Agatha like luminous planets orbiting a sun. Each orb shimmered with potent mana, infused with properties specifically designed to disassemble the very fabric of living entities—ironic, the absolute opposite of creation.
"Be gone!" she proclaimed, her voice ringing through the destroyed city section. With a commanding gesture, the orbs responded in unison, darting forth towards Gisèle in a dazzling light, trailing wisps of brilliant mana as they soared through the air. The sight was almost mesmerizing.
Gisèle stood poised, eyes wide. Despite the destruction looming near, an insidious smile crept across her lips—she was aware of the chaos that was about to unfold and she reveled in it. They launched towards Gisèle like shooting stars, each charged with mana that crackled fiercely, singing through the air as they closed the distance with breathtaking speed. Time seemed to slow as the moment stretched, the orbs homing in on their target, one after another colliding with abrupt finality. The series of impacts shattered the silence, a flurry of explosive detonations erupting as they met Gisèle.
Flashes of blinding light erupted across the battleground, illuminating the area with an incandescent light that painted the city ruins in bright hues. The sheer force of each explosion churned the air, sending waves of destructive energy rippling outward, reverberating against the remains of the city architecture. Walls trembled, dust swirled violently into the air, and fragments of stone erupted like shrapnel, caught in the tempest.
Moments stretched into infinity; debris rained down like confetti. ("Was that enough?")
Slowly, the luminous storm began to recede. The haze cleared as the dust settled, and Agatha squinted into the haze, hoping the battle was finally over. As the light faded fully, an unsettling realization pierced her—a figure remained standing their unharmed and resolute. There was no sign of further damage. Confusion flickered in Agatha's emerald eyes. Had her power faltered somehow? Was there something hidden within Gisèle that shielded her from harm?
The silence dissolved as Gisèle's saliva-thick laughter erupted from her, echoing off the crumbled stone all around her. Her voice bubbled with a sickly sweet tone. "What a lovely dance! The lightning waltzes with the shadows, and here we are, two marionettes in a grand masquerade! Shall we cut the strings and twirl into oblivion, little one?"
("What's going on? I am not sensing any mana now from her, she's not even reinforcing herself with it. Yet still she is untouched.") Agatha swiftly gathered her focus as her instincts blared at her. She used her magic to erect a shimmering barrier. The barrier unfolded around her in a brilliant fold of mana, forming a resplendent dome.
But Gisèle merely cocked her head to one side, grinning wider. With a blur of exaggerated, sweeping motions, she finally went on the offensive, using magic, channeling her chaotic mana into razor-thin, shimmering slashes of mana. The slashes sliced through the air with an ear-splitting hiss, leaving a trail of crackling mana that shivered with malevolence. "Oh, but little one, your trinkets won't save you! Let us trim the tendrils of fate!" she screeched, her voice rising in pitch as her erratic fingers thrust forward, unleashing the slashes that moved through the air toward Agatha like hunting predators.
Time seemed to stave off reality for just a moment as Agatha watched the impending storm of the myriad of brilliant slashes twinkling towards her. Agatha focused her mana on reinforcing her barrier, pouring more mana into it, driven by pure instincts for survival. The air vibrated violently, rippling under the impact. Each subsequent strike echoed like the tolling of a death knell, shaking the earth. Passing mercilessly through the barrier, the slashes carved furrows in the shield, splintering the mana threads, fracturing Agatha's defenses. The barrier strained, pulsating as it resonated under the onslaught, but it ultimately succumbed to Gisèle's barrage.
And then came the decisive strike: a single, ferocious mana slash cleaved the weakening barrier, slicing through. It found its mark with terrifying force, the shockwave rippling through Agatha, wrenching her attention away. Everything slowed at that moment, every detail crystallizing in a horrifying scene as the slash rent through her defenses, slashing across her right arm. The world warped in an explosion of pain that seared through her as the mana blade cut cleanly, amputation instantaneous.
"Argh!?"
Agatha felt the chilling pain, the sensation akin to fire creeping up her stump and body. Her cries—ripped from the depths of her soul—a primal scream reverberating in the hollow ruins. The bloody remnant of her arm fell to the ground, severed cleanly. She grit her teeth under the weight of her agony, trying not to let another scream rip through her throat.
"Look, look! A dance of life and death! How exquisitely beautiful! Shall I twirl with your dismembered pieces so that I may save you, little one?" she taunted, her voice dripping with malice as she spun, nearly spinning into an exhilaration of psychosis.
Agatha clenched her jaw, forcing herself to focus. Through the torrent of pain that enveloped her and threatened to drown her will, she summoned her remaining strength. Drawing upon healing magic, she pressed her remaining hand firmly against the grievous wound, infusing it with a flow of mana. Each pulse of mana from within her surged forth like a desperate lifeline, moving over the torn flesh, weaving strips of radiant mana across. Even with Arcane Ascendance having to repair an entire missing limb was difficult. Her beast she could make hollow, she only needed the outer shell and to infuse properties into them.
Her mana coalesced, working to close the gaping wound that now marred her flesh. Agatha's breath quickened, her heart racing with the dual pulses of pain and fear.
Gisèle's laughter only grew louder, buoyed by the sight of Agatha's quickly healing stump. "Oh, what a delightful turn of events! Shall we play another round, my dear? Or maybe I should carve more art into your skin? All of this to save you from it!" Her voice twisted, mingling incomprehensible phrases together as if they were the lyrics to some unholy song.
("D-damn it, my mana is running low,") Agatha drew upon the last reserves of her mana, palpable within her. Ignoring the persistent throb of pain where her limb had once been, she planted her feet firmly on the cracked ground, feeling the earth beneath her as she tapped into the foundation of Creation once more. Mana gathered around her, swirling in verdant hues that ignited with her.
A massive circular glyph materialized in front of her—one that towered and spun with geometric precision. The patterns inscribed within it glowed fiercely, each line glowing with green as it danced and thrummed with divine mana. She poured her essence into the glyph, and it responded with a radiant pulse, expanding outward like a blooming flower.
At the core of the glyph, a golden light flickered alive, radiating waves of pure power that shimmered. The golden mana gathered at the center, swirling into a concentrated mass that grew until the very air around it twisted under it.
She thrust her hand forward. The glyph flared to life, unleashing a colossal wave of pure golden mana that surged forth like a tsunami. It erupted from the glyph with a cataclysmic force, casting dazzling rays that pierced the area, reaching high towards the heavens. The ground reverberated beneath her with raw power that expanded outward, threatening to engulf everything before it.
But Gisèle arched her brow in a gleeful scene. Her eyes glinted as she splayed her arms wide, a manic grin splitting across her face. "How cute! Let's see what chaos has to offer!" With barely a moment's pause, she inhaled deeply and then threw her head back, mouth agape.
From her throat emerged a feral unchaining of wild mana, a blazing red wave of raw mana shooting forth like a gaping maw. The scalding torrent surged out with reckless abandon, churning and crackling, the chaotic resonance rippling through the air as it screamed towards Agatha's burgeoning golden wave. Gisèle's laughter mingling with delirium.
As the two waves hurtled toward each other, time seemed to stretch. Agatha's golden wave collided with Gisèle's chaotic red surge, a titanic clash that resonated throughout the ruins of the city section. The moment of impact was cataclysmic, a collision of forces. The two stellar arcing waves spiraled together, merging with explosive force at their intersection. Threads of golden and red mana twisted together, creating spiraling tendrils that churned with almost uninterpretable beauty. As arcs of mana shot outward, they crackled fiercely, unleashing waves of pressure that rolled across the ground, sending fragments of stone and dust cascading into the air, transforming the debris into a glittering storm of dust. Everything trembled—the ground shivered beneath the intensity of the collision, reverberating with shockwaves that threatened to shatter the remains of the city structures.
The luminous mix of golden and red energy surged higher, climbing toward the atmosphere as if seeking to pierce it. Towering columns of brilliant light spiraled upward, anything in their path obliterated, consumed by the vast conflux of magical energy the two had unleashed. The sky writhed in response, bolts of mana snaking through the fabric of clouds like shooting stars.
As the myriad colors began to settle, the golden and red mana began a slow entwining. Gisèle, delirious and wrapped in her own madness, threw her head back, laughter erupting in spontaneous fits. "Oh, look at us! Like fireworks tangled in a lover's embrace! A perfect little game of tit for tat in this grand theatre of lunacy!" Her eyes spun wildly, pupils dilating. "Shall we slice the threads of sanity, stitched together by your notions? You think you can bind chaos? Ha! How quaint! Watch as I unfold the universe like a map of insanity!"
Her words tumbled forth mixed with fluttering hands that gestured frantically as if conducting an orchestra. "The fish dance while the stars cry at the moon! Oh, but they don't know the taste of madness, do they? They swim in circles of reason, and here we are, two lost lambs in a forest of swirling flames!"
Agatha scowled at the Ancestor of malice. The echoes of their earlier collision still vibrated in her ears, and she narrowed her focus. Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted, the air growing heavier as if saturated with pure emotions of malice. It happened in an instant—though the onset was so subtle it barely brushed the edges of Agatha's perception—that red translucent energy whipped forth from Gisèle in a sudden, chaotic burst, snaking across the ground. Without warning, rushed shadows of chains materialized, ensnaring Agatha with surprising force.
"Ah, my dear! Let's see what those glittering threads of light do when wrapped in chains of despair!" Gisèle cackled triumphantly, watching as the shimmering chains encircled Agatha, their forms fluid and yet alarmingly tangible. The chains glowed bright crimson, radiating a malevolent mana that seemed to drain the very essence of mana from Agatha's core. Each link reverberated with a hum.
Agatha gasped as a light engulfed her form, reducing it to her original body. The sensation was like a winter chill infiltrating the warmth of her very spirit. The chains tightened, binding her, drawing greedily from her reserve of mana and leaving her reeling. Struggling against the hold, she felt the waves of her mana slip through her fingers like water, her senses dulled and blurred as the chains assimilated her vitality. "No… I-I can't..." she grunted, panic igniting her as she struggled against the confines.
Yet Gisèle danced gleefully around her, eyes glinting with delight. "Oh, but you're so delightful, little lamb! Like a firefly trapped in a jar—so eager to escape! But look how the light dims! Splendid!" The fervor in her tone surged with madness, the red chains radiating even stronger as they constricted tighter, gleefully leeching away Agatha's mana in waves. "Let's play a game! I'll be the witch, you be the jack-o'-lantern! What's the first trick you'll give me, hmm?"
Gritting her teeth, Agatha sensed the last of her mana slipping away, yet she was not finished, not yet at least. She called forth the remnants of that dwindling mana. Agatha's voice rose above the oppressive laughter of Gisèle, drawing the remaining mana in her—not just her own mana but the very essence of existence around her. "You may bind me, Ancestor, but I am not finished yet!"
In that moment of clarity, Agatha's mana spirit flared bright, even as the chains wound their distortions around her. She redirected her mana into a formation, weaving narrow tendrils of shimmering green light to mingle with the suffocating chains. The very strands of her essence, strained against the binding, began to flourish anew, kindling dormant magical sigils within each loop.
But not a moment too soon, Gisèle, recognizing the shift, howled with displeasure and exuberance. "No! I won't let you paint the sky with your drippy colors! Chaos is the brush, and the universe will be my canvas!" The crimson tendrils surged further, infusing more energy into their bindings, manifesting an almost sentient drive.
With an immediate flick of her wrist, Gisèle summoned another mana slash towards her opponent, the deadly arc splitting the space between them with merciless violence. This new wave of mana shot forth, ripping through the air, a razor-edged crescent of dark crimson power aiming directly at Agatha's chest—a slashing projectile glinting ominously as it propelled forward.
Agatha, still ensnared by the chains, scrambled to respond. "Damn it!" she breathed, redirecting her focus, pulling from the light weaving around her, sensing the last reserves of her mana drain near its nadir.
The mana slash descended upon her, slicing through the air like the claws of a beast seeking its prey. In that desperate heartbeat, Agatha found a flicker of strength in her waning magic, summoning the bonds she had woven into the chains. The glow flared even brighter around her, meeting the attack head-on.
But the sharp mana slash connected, a searing line raking across her chest, easily cleaving through her chest piece—pain ignited like wildfire.
"Gah!"
The shock reverberated through her, explosive agony radiating from the wound, sending her sprawling backward into the ground with a pained cry. The world twisted dizzily around her as a result. "Tsk, tsk little lamb! You are not ready!" The Ancestor declared as she raised a hand at the collapsed Agatha, a slash of mana snaked through the air once more with deadly intent. Before it could find its mark, however, a blue blur tackled Agatha out of the way, crashing to the side.
"Holy shit!" Mirabella could not help but exclaim as she kneeled over Agatha. The girl having gone unconscious.
"T-this is bad!" Cor'nella squeaked out, looking nervously at the downed form of the one she was meant to guide.
"Telling the obvious there! Can't you heal her!?"
"I-I can only stabilize her!" Cor'nella yelled out, quickly flying closer to Agatha, the girl was drawing shallow breaths as a green light engulfed her form. Mirabella watched with uneasy eyes as she turned to the perpetrator who grinned eerily.
What could she do in this situation?