This new era does intrigue me, but not as much as the era of gods and dragons did. But my interest is there all the same. The new races of this era, though, are weak and not worthy of this realm they walk in or the freedom they did not earn. It made these new denizens weak and unworthy; it was an irritation. Though my time in this new era was brief, it was a child's play to learn of all this era's mishaps.
In my time, we strived for survival. We fought against the elements, against the beasts, against each other. We learn to value strength, resilience, and cunning. We understand the harsh realities of existence. But here... here, it seems as if life is a game. A game with rules that favor the powerful, the fortunate, and the magical.
They have everything they could ever want. Abundance, power, freedom. They live in a world of enchantment, where their every desire is granted. But what do they do with it? They squander it. They indulge in their petty squabbles, their petty jealousies. They forget the true meaning of life.
They are a pampered race, weak, and entitled. They have forgotten the value of hard work, of struggle, of sacrifice. They have become complacent, complacent in their comfort and security. They are a disgrace to the very gods they worship. I have seen the true nature of their world. I have seen the darkness that lurks beneath the surface of their glittering façade. And I have come to a conclusion. They are not worthy of their magic. They are not worthy of their gods. They are not worthy of life itself. But the few here that I find interesting might be able to change that.
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And so Rhiannon watched the large humanoid figure. He had a black and blue color scheme. Having a black, detailed suit of ethereal armor adorned with a dark blue over a black bodysuit. They had long, flowing glowing blue hair that was flowing freely. Then he wore a black helmet with a glowing blue faceplate. They also had black coattails with a blue outline framing their waste. Along with that, they wielded a tall spear, intricately designed with a thick black outline adorned in blue. Reynard, the proclaimed Inheritor of the Goddess of the Sea, depths and freedom.
("That sea goddess, an imputed shrimp but powerful all the same.") Rhiannon mused as she readied Radiant Dior. The Inheritors of the Creation Goddess and the one of the Songstress Goddess, Agatha and Isabella, respectively, seemed to hang back, not yet activating their divine forms. Individually, they were not much, but if she only used her physical strength and speed, this may yet be interesting. ("And maybe if I held back... immensely.")
Rhiannon grinned at the transformation. "Is that the best you've got?" she taunted, her voice dripping with scorn. "A delicate flower dressed for a masquerade rather than a fight?"
Beside Victoria, Isabella trembled slightly, seemingly still at Rhiannon's presence, her eyes wide, while Agatha conjured a flurry of blades with a simple gesture, a glint of agitation underlying her calm demeanor. Victoria lingered at the periphery, her mind was already racing with strategies, her voice echoing in Reynard's thoughts. ["Reynard,"] she instructed, her tone steady, ["we need to initiate the attack energetically but calculate every movement. Engage her directly and draw her attention away from Agatha's support spells." ]
With a swift nod, Reynard erupted forward, his muscles coiling as he surged toward Rhiannon with astonishing speed. The clash of their weapons erupted with a thunderous blast, the impact sending shockwaves through the ground and shattering remnants of columns behind them. Rhiannon pushed back against his assault effortlessly, her blade deflecting his strikes with ease, and a mocking smile played upon her lips. "Is that a weapon or a toothpick? Seems a little inadequate." She twisted, the body of her hefty sword sending sparks flying as her blade connected against his spear, a stroke that reverberated the air much like a clap of thunder.
Undeterred, Agatha framed her hands, gesturing to the array of glimmering blades that now rained down above Rhiannon, each shimmering with potent enchantments to enhance their power. "Prioritize stability!" Agatha shouted out, her voice rising above the din. In sheer continuity, Rhiannon danced away, deftly avoiding the barrage, her laughter slicing through. "Mere tricks won't save you, little girl," she chimed, twirling Radiant Dior to deflect the last blades effortlessly.
Amidst the chaos, Isabella took a deep breath. There was just something off and eerie about this woman; even completely ignoring her mana, she was still scary. It was odd; she had faced a Chaosmaw before, but she did not feel any kind of fear—maybe just agitation. But it did not seem right to compare this monster of a woman to a mere Chaosmaw; she was on an entirely different league. Which meant she had to do her part, and, with a gesture of her wrist, she summoned a harp, the strings vibrating with a melody that encapsulated the air in luminous light, weaving a radiant aura that clung to Reynard. As the ethereal glow enhanced his presence, Victoria's voice surged through Reynard's mind, a strategy blossoming into clarity. ["Now, Reynard. Lure her into a vulnerable position. You seem proficient with a spear, so use your footwork, circle her, and strike when she least expects it." ]
Steeling himself, Reynard shifted, employing nimble movement as he circled Rhiannon, weaving in and out, narrowly dodging her counters. He lashed out with his spear, but Rhiannon's strikes continued to flow like a river: fluid, unpredictable, and intimidating. "You dance well, dear," she chuckled, "but this dance ends when I decide it does. For now, I'll indulge." A flurry of quick blows from Reynard required every ounce of concentration as Rhiannon parried with ease, her golden aura flaring brightly with each response.
"You lack insight, boy. You're merely a distraction if anything," she taunted, flicking Radiant Dior teasingly in his direction as she danced back once again, prompting Reynard to follow closely in hot pursuit. "If I had a marker for your failures, I'd draw a masterpiece." ("Still the only one of interest here is that blonde girl with the blue eyes; I can feel her mental presence on the boy. She's guiding him, and that is the only reason he's not immediately dying from my lackluster attacks.")
Guided by Victoria's mental directives, Reynard suddenly pivoted mid-attack, dodging as he directed the fight toward the city's edge. "Get ready!" he relayed back. The ground trembled as they both soared over the city's remnants, Rhiannon's golden aura flaring, encapsulating her in glimmering brilliance as they flew into the snowy expanse beyond the devastated metropolis. The world below now transformed into a sea of white, the icy ground crunching under their sudden descent.
Landing together with a powerful thunder, Rhiannon offered another mocking smile through the frost-laden air. "You are a tempting little thing, but I won't fall for any tricks you might have out here—unless you're planning to turn into the snow," she grinned, shifting Radiant Dior into an aggressive stance.
["Maintain control, Reynard,"] urged Victoria. ["Focus; summon your magic to enhance your agility; for now, Isabella and Agatha will be there in a short moment; it's time to utilize those elements."]
With a fierce bellow, Reynard's aura flared bright aqua as he focused his own magic, weaving it into his movements. He lunged at Rhiannon once more, his spear glistening with energy as he spun it in his hand.
"Ready yourself," Rhiannon taunted, her voice smooth and unbothered, as if to show she was not even trying. "I'd hate for this to bore me more than it already does. Honestly, I've seen more finesse from a dancing feather."
"I'm not here for your amusement; I'm here to achieve victory," Reynard responded, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips beneath his faceplate, his confidence still strong as he held his spear at the ready. "And perhaps admire the view while I do."
With a sudden burst of movement, Rhiannon lunged forward, the golden blade of Radiant Dior glowing as it sliced through the snowy air toward his midsection. Reynard's reflexes kicked in—and he barely pivoted on his right foot, twisting his body to bring the spear down in a parrying maneuver just in time. The sound of alloy against alloy rang out, a resounding clang that sent shocks through him, sending snowflakes scattering like confetti.
"Impressive, but not nearly swift enough," she jeered, spinning and bringing her blade back around in a sweeping arc aimed at his neck. Reynard ducked low, feeling the resistance of cold air as the edge of her weapon sliced just above his helmet. A moment later, he rolled backward, gathering momentum, flipping seamlessly to his feet, and thrusting his spear forward to jab at her. But Rhiannon was quicker; her movements were fast as she sidestepped, the edge of her golden armor glinting.
"Is that a thrust I feel, or just a chill in the air?" Rhiannon quipped, effortless in her movement, her laughter the only sound. She darted in, her blade moving like a flicker of light as she aimed for his flank, that intimate space between his armor plates.
Reynard alone would barely have been able to react. But guided by Victoria's calm directives, he could just barely anticipate her approach. ["Reynard! Shift your weight to your left!"] He complied as she continued, ["Now!" Square your stance for a counter!"] Just in time, he pivoted, deflecting her blow with a sharp interlock of their weapons. The force sent him skidding across the snow, carving lines of devastation beneath his feet.
Rhiannon pressed the assault, her golden blade flashing like the sun's light in Reynard's eyes. "You dance decently, you know. But I must admit, I prefer a partner that can keep me entertained longer," she mused, slashing diagonally as she followed with a swift sideways movement, ducking lower into a nimble stance.
"Maybe I'll surprise you," Reynard replied, adrenaline driving his boldness anew. He raised his spear and initiated a flurry of strikes, each swinging faster and stronger than the last, kicking up intense winds that made the snowflakes dart around wildly. He unleashed a downward strike that Rhiannon blocked with ease, then a horizontal sweep that she darted away from, her movements seemingly effortless.
Rhiannon retaliated with a quick thrust, attempting to penetrate his defenses again. Reynard twisted, rolling under her strike, then sprung up, utilizing the momentum to launch a spin kick aimed at her midsection. The kick missed as she slipped back, and Reynard's foot crashed against the icy ground, splintering the surface and sending shards of ice skittering away like shattered glass.
Chuckling, Rhiannon smiled on. "Oh please, I've seen slugs move much nimbler than that."
"Careful, your tongue may betray you before the day ends!" Reynard retorted confidently, adjusting his stance, the energy coursing through him, fueling his resolve.
"Let's see if you can keep up," she replied, darting in once more, closing the distance between them in an instant. Rhiannon unleashed a flurry of fast strikes, each one seemingly there to probe for weaknesses. She delivered a sweeping blow to his left, which he barely avoided with a backward tilt. Then, as if it were choreographed, she followed with a quick downward diagonal slash, forcing him to twist his body, the blade grazing the surface of his armor and leaving a faint spark as their energies clashed.
"Feel that? The thrill of nearly touching victory?" She mocked, feinting left and then lunging right for a decisive thrust. Reynard barely managed to sidestep, the blade slicing through his flowing hair like a whisper as he narrowly dodged. "Of course you do not."
"Killing yourself might save me the trouble," she teased again, her confidence eclipsing his own relentlessly, her strikes becoming more intense, and Reynard felt his concentration wavering under the onslaught.
"Not until you show me something truly radiant!" he shouted back over the clash of their weapons, each clash sending tremors through the pristine snow and leaving trails of destruction in their wake—craters marred the ground beneath their battle.
"Maybe you should try harder; I haven't even used my personal power, let alone offensive magic. And I've hardly been trying." Rhiannon taunted, spinning elegantly, her blade arcing overhead and catching the light, blinding him momentarily as she brought it down in a powerful overhead strike meant to cleave him in two.
"Victoria, some instruction might be nice!" he shouted, channeling the last of his focus to engage Victoria's mental link, waiting for instructions to shift the dynamic of the fight. "What next?"
["Block low, and then counter with a flick to your right,"] she guided swiftly, pulling him back into composure. As he obeyed, he blocked low just as Rhiannon's blade sliced downward, deflecting the attack with a reverberating clash that shook the ground even more violently as well as his muscles. Sensing the opportune moment, he pivoted, launching a fierce jab to her side.
But she was faster—she twisted to the side, and his spear struck only air as she dodged effortlessly to his side once more. The sound of their battle echoed, each roar of impact sending serrated edges of sound that rippled through the snow-laden winds.
"Impressive footwork, though I suppose that compliment should be given to... Victoria, was it?" She said with a smirk as they both rotated, their weapons colliding in a blur of speed again, light flashing and snow scattering as they engaged once more.
As the clash between Reynard and Rhiannon reached a fever pitch, the carefully sculpted snow beneath them began to shift, charged by the escalating potency of their respective strengths. Gathering his breath, Reynard summoned the depths of his innate waters, calling forth an unfathomable energy that surged from within him, pulsing like the heartbeat of the ocean. The air crackled, charged with mana as tendrils of aqua spiraled around him, spiraling higher into the frosty sky.
With a sweeping motion of his spear, he unleashed his magic, an enormous hurricane of water erupting into existence, rising in a cyclone that towered like a mountain above them. The swirling mass encased the snowy terrain, uprooting frozen trees and sending waves crashing against the ground in a display of divine power. Ice shards and snow spiraled up into the cyclone, merging with the vivid aqua like a storm of nature itself, a tempest screaming with power.
Thunder rumbled, echoing across the vast expanse, filling the air with a foreboding growl. "Feel the power of the depths!" Reynard proclaimed, his voice drowning in the roar of water and wind, a look of determination igniting his features beneath his faceplate as he gestured toward Rhiannon, the condensed energy around him swelling with intensity. "Let the tide take you!"
The storm responded in kind, the raging winds whipping furiously, the sheer scale of the hurricane encapsulating everything in its sum—snowdrifts were swept away as the ground felt the tremors of the looming destruction. But Rhiannon stood composed, unfazed; her smile remained as she observed the chaos around her. "Is this your grand show, little one? How quaint!" With lethal movements, she raised Radiant Dior overhead, experiencing a moment of tranquil focus amidst destruction.
In an absurd display of strength, with a single, calculated swing of her blade, the vast hurricane met its match. The shimmering edge of Radiant Dior cleaved through the air with such force that it transformed into a shockwave. The cyclone of water erupted outward, violently fracturing and collapsing upon itself, sending plumes of liquid skyward like a burst of stars. The ensuing explosion of energy sent chunks of icy debris flying, each crashing down and obliterating the pristine snow that lay beneath them.
Reynard's jaw dropped as he was left momentarily awestruck by the sheer power of her swing. The scale of Rhiannon's grace achieved in that solitary action was staggering—she had undone what he had taken so much time to build, her strength unyielding as well as absurd. "Didn't anyone tell you? Water simply cannot resist the sun," she taunted, her voice like a bell, mocking yet melodic.
Regaining his composure, Richard braced himself, a mixture of frustration and agitation swirling within him. He prepared for his next move, channeling the remaining energy coursing through him, building upon the magic that lingered still. The ground trembled beneath him as he summoned a colossal tsunami, the water taking form like an immense wave, arcing and cresting in all its terrifying beauty. The massive wall of water twisted and curled, reflective and threatening, a wall of aqua destined to unearth the very earth itself as it surged toward Rhiannon.
"Catch me if you can!" Reynard shouted, the wave crashing forward with a deafening roar that echoed across the glacial wilderness, threatening to consume all in its path. This colossal wave surged forward, swallowing the remnants of their battle, and as it roared, it was as if nature itself cried out, the land threatening to be wrapped in the enormity of his creation.
For a moment, awe filled Reynolds's heart. Could he actually beat her? But Rhiannon stood resolute, her golden armor emboldening her stance, unfazed as the enormous tsunami loomed closer, crushing all in its wake. With a fierce movement, she swung her sword once again—this time with such an overwhelming force that it created a vortex so fierce that it shattered the very fabric of the tsunami in an instant.
The collision sent out ripples that cascaded through the air, breaking the wave before it could strike. Water burst apart, descending like droplets of rain meant to quench the earth, countless shards spraying as if a geyser had erupted. The leftover energy shockwave sent Reynard stumbling back, snow and ice shattering beneath the upheaval, transforming the landscape into a chaotic mixture of destruction and disarray.
Stunned, he gasped as he gazed at Rhiannon, her confidence radiating as she brushed the remnants of aquatic energy from Radiant Dior, her stance unyielding, seemingly deriving strength from the chaos around them. "You're losing your touch, darling," she taunted, the voice lilting with laughter, "and it's positively adorable!"
As the battlefield lay in disarray, the tension thick in the air, Rhiannon seized the moment, her golden blade flaring as she rushed toward Reynard with a burst of speed. Her movements were a blur—sudden and explosive—as she charged at him with blinding intent, a predator closing in on its prey. Reynard, momentarily caught off guard by the intensity of her approach, felt the wind rush past him, yet before she could unleash her next devastating and surely final strike, an unexpected spectacle unfolded against the oppressive chaos of their conflict.
A beam of intense light sliced through the fray, radiating with a divine brilliance that split the atmosphere, intercepting Rhiannon's advance just in time. She dodged away, her reflexes still sharp, spiriting her body to the left in a graceful arc, the ethereal glow shimmering around her as she effortlessly evaded the luminous force. "Slow and sad," she muttered, a wide grin blooming across her face.
Descending from the heavens, illuminated like celestial beings, Isabella and Agatha made their grand entrance. Their forms, now transformed into Arcane Ascendance, Isabella now a towering figure with magnificence, her simple garments transformed into flowing robes adorned with vibrant celestial patterns that seemed to dance and shimmer as if woven from the very stars. The fabric shimmered dramatically, magic surging with energy. In her hands materialized a harp of pure light, radiant and awe-inspiring. Each of its strings hummed with a melodic resonance that reverberated through the very fabric of reality, uplifting the atmosphere around them with transcendent notes.
Flanking Isabella, Agatha radiated an extraordinary presence much the same, her form now larger and adorned with an ethereal glow—she resembled a goddess drawn from the finest tales of mythology. Cascading waves of golden blonde hair swirled around her, resembling liquid sunlight that reflected and refracted light in iridescent cascades. Her eyes, deep emeralds with flecks of gold, sparkled with the wisdom of ages, piercing through the chaos surrounding them as if able to see straight into the souls of those who dared face her. Clad in a gown woven from the essence of nature, hues of green and gold intertwined elegantly, and intricate patterns adorned her dress, shifting and writhing as though animated by the life force of the forest itself. Each delicate step she took sent ripples of mana through the air, seamlessly melding nature and magic, while snowflakes held aloft around her began to dance as if enchanted by her mere existence.
"Apologies for being late," Agatha voiced lightly, her voice imbued with passive kindness, effortlessly cutting through the tension with a melodic tone. Isabella, still restraining the powerful harp of light, positioned herself with poise, ready to strike a chord.
With the two celestial beings now in play, the scene brightened. Rhiannon, unfazed and with an unrepentant grin still affixed to her face, leaned back slightly, her confidence rolling off her in waves. "A light show, how very nice. You think more numbers will help?" she taunted, her tone steady.
"I-it matters not if we cannot win," Isabella replied with an agitated voice, her harp's strings beginning to resonate with harmonious beauty.
"We only need to keep you busy," Agatha added, her presence casting a protective glow that seemed to shelter Reynard in the hopes of rejuvenating him. Though Rhiannon quirked up a brow at her choice of words.
Rhiannon hummed leisurely, "Well, let's see if you all are worthy!" she proclaimed, readying her blade.