In the eastern lands of the desert-ridden continent of Nifarusca, a vast landmass that lied to Xathra's south, there laid an ancient clan of powerful martial artists who fought not in the way of magick, but in the sacred arts and techniques that they had long kept to themselves for the hundreds of years that they've existed.
Martial arts... It was a power that relied not on the arcane prowess of magick and mana, but a hidden, inner strength that lied within their bodies: it was a power that allowed them to shatter stone with but a single strike from their fists, as well as the ability to redirect such monstrously powerful blows without difficulties.
The Zhao Clan, they were an entire clan of physically-adept warriors that managed to strike terror into not only their 2 neighboring nations, but into the very hearts and minds of the forces of the faraway Neugomian Empire itself: a long time ago, when the Empire's arrogance was at its finest peak, their soldiers had sought out to bring the lands of the Zhao into their domain, though of course, such an attempt would easily be foiled by the superior might of the Zhao warriors, who would often strike at night and wreak havoc upon their tents when the soldiers were supposed to be resting.
Its people mostly consisted of browned-tone skin and plain, hazel eyes, a stark contrast to the features possessed by one of their greatest warriors, Altair, a beautiful, light-skinned woman with a pair of azure eyes, an appearance that was usually more common in the people who resided in the continent of Xathra...
Of course, many of you would begin to ask: why would such a thing manage to transpire in the first place? How and why did Altair came to be with these people who she didn't even truly share a connection with?
In truth, the poor Altair was born from the forbidden love between 2 warriors of different, warring sides: her father, a high-ranking imperial soldier of Neugomia, and her mother, a warrior of the Zhao Clan who had initially been assigned with assassinating her soon-to-be betrothed amidst the still-ongoing war between the 2 nations.
The 2 would have a rough beginning, with the mother often managing to nearly kill the father in several of their encounters: neither of them would ever actually manage to kill the other, though eventually however, in one of their many fateful battles, the 2 would both find themselves helpless and wounded after one of the many skirmishes that they fought in amidst their conflict.
Both of them would help each other in order to survive, and as they spent many days by themselves in the abandoned battlefield where they wouldn't be rescued by their own forces for many years, it wouldn't take long for them to develop an understanding between each other, an initially normal connection that would eventually bloom into a devoted, loving relationship that neither of them could hope to pull their infatuated hearts out of.
One day, however, the parents would eventually meet their demise, as when the 2 chose to return to the very nations they served, both the mother and the father eventually met their ends after their respective factions found out about their once-concealed connection with each other, and it wouldn't take long for them to be branded as traitors and eventually executed.
Before the mother was killed however, they quickly discovered that she was pregnant with the child of the enemy soldier she had fallen in love with: as a final request from the woman who was about to be executed though, her child was spared from the tragedy of death, and would later be taken in to replace her mother as one of the many warriors that the clan had already lost amidst their war against the Empire...
And Altair, who had been pitifully left behind, would be taken in by the Zhao clan and eventually trained as one of their warriors: the war had been devastating to them as well after all, and so they were not selective about the children they would take into their wing and train to become their henchmen.
Of course, though, the mark of betrayal that had been left by her mother would never cease to be even after the poor lass eventually reached adulthood, as Altair was constantly met with suspicion and prejudice even from the very same people she had grown up with: it was a tragic experience, as Altair was considered as a half-breed who didn't even deserve the training that her fellows were receiving, and many of them believed that she didn't even have the skills necessary to become one of the clan's fearsome warriors.
Despite this disadvantage, Altair would do her very best in her training to become the very best, challenging and succeeding against every hardship and obstacle that was thrown at her, until eventually, the successful assassin would not only become one of the clan's most recognized warriors, but one that had also been finally accepted as their true kin due to her incredible skill and martial prowess.
Unfortunately though, there were still those that remained ever-cautious about the potential betrayal she could bring due to her not being a pure-blood of their clan, and so they drew a treasonous plan that would see the poor woman captured by her enemy and tortured until every semblance of the glory she possessed was finally gone...
Such was the story of the assassin known as Altair, a truly tragic one that was full of blood and violence, as even from childhood, Altair had already known the cruelty of life and the looming terrors and horrors that came along with it...
________________________________________
"We're still so far away..."
The 50-thousand strong splinter army was still making its way to Polonia's capital due to the technical difficulties that their translocation spell encountered, and it while the castle walls of the Polonian capital were already within their sights, it appeared that it would take them a few more minutes of walking before their forces could finally manage to enter the city gates and deal with any enemy force that was here.
For the spell-fencing 2nd rank of the Hundred Seats, Airen, however, there was a rising sense of suspicion that was beginning to form in his mind: while they were expecting that their enemy was about to attack at any moment now, the spellfencer couldn't help but feel himself becoming more wary and cautious with every second that passed by before their very eyes.
"Keep your guard up, Airen." Falzhan would suddenly speak to him." They might attack us at any moment. We can't afford to be carefree right now."
"I know. There's just something that bothers me about what's happening right now though..."
Falzhan raised one of his eyebrows as he heard what Airen uttered. "It's that they haven't even made their moves yet, huh? Don't worry, I'm feeling the same thing as you right now..."
Nothing happened as the thumping of boots on the ground continued to echo throughout the air while they slowly moved closer to one of the city gates, as the enemies they were expecting to be present in the Capital were nowhere to be seen, and only the sounds of their own march were the most notable noises they could here, almost as if the enemy hadn't truly been present in Polonia's capital city in the first place.
A faint sensation of wonder quickly began to form in Airen's mind as a result of his doubts: were there even any sort of enemy forces present in this place in the first place? Or had they already anticipated their attack and were now beginning to make preparations?
Regardless of the endless possibilities he could see, Airen remained ever wary about the possibility of an enemy attack, as he his suspicion was only growing stronger the more time passed where their enemies refused to even acknowledge their arrival.
Eventually though, the reaction they were all expecting would come in the form of an attack that they never could have expected...
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
A series of weak explosions peppered the marching soldiers in a synchronized, repetitive assault, though what made many of them wonder about the nature of the attack was of how weak it was in dealing damage, as not even a single man would become killed or wounded in such a feeble assault.
However, the other factor that would arrive after this seemingly pointless action was the true event that would rouse their guards up into battle once more...
"I can't see! Why is there fog here all of a sudden?!"
"It's the enemy's doing! They scattered this fog through the explosions they unleashed upon us!"
"They're going to attack us at any moment now! We have to get ready!"
A thick, smokescreen of mist emerged from the areas where the detonations ocurred, quickly scattering throughout the air as it rapidly began to make their surroundings seem foggier to their eyes: this was the reason why the explosions were weak in the first place, as their goal was not to destroy and unleash devastation upon the soldiers, but rather, it was to envelop them in a mask of deception where the enemies would be able to attack their disoriented formations with ease.
And of course, their adversaries did indeed use this method of assault in order to spread chaos among the Neugomian soldiers, to allow themselves to easen the slaughter that they were just about to enact.
"Falzhan! Get ready! They're going to attack us now!" Airen shouted to his fellow champion as he drew his sword.
"Right, I got ya! Let's beat them to a pulp the moment they appear right in front of us!
...
...
Malfor had to admit, the smokescreen of fog they had just unleashed upon their enemy was a cowardly tactic that didn't sit well with his code of honour as a proud warrior: in his perspective, it was a dirty trick that no dishonorable man of battle should ever consider doing, but now, the dire circumstances of this conflict, as well as the disastrous consequences that would ensue should they fail, eventually made him reconsider his feelings.
They unleashed such a smokescreen through the cannons that were left behind by that woman named 'Thurien' before she departed for the other mission that had been assigned to her: in the first place, many of them expected that the possibility of imperial forces somehow managing to arrive within the capital's vicinity was quite low, and not much preparations were made for such an event as a result, which was why they weren't fully equipped in dealing with the nearby imperial army that was currently making its way towards the capital.
In truth however, while the cannons available to them did possess loadouts that could easily tear through the formations of the imperial army without much issue, they were currently in such incredibly limited supply, and so they had chosen to utilize the currently more abundant smoke canisters that they could use to assist in their defences.
"Where is this mist even coming from! I can't fucking see!"
"This must be the work of the enemy! They're all fucking cowards, I tell you!"
"What kind of magick even is this?! The fog is everywhere!"
It was pitiful to see the once-proud, marching formations of the Neugomian army fall quickly into a chaotic disarray that seemed nothing like what it had previously been: however, the safety of the very kingdom this knight served was at stake, and so he couldn't afford to show any form of mercy to these interlopers who wanted to bring the kingdom back into an age of slavery under the tyranny of the empire... No, he would most definitely not allow that.
As the knight-captain of all the soldiers belonging to Polonia's Templar Knights, Malfor was the 2nd-in-command of all the forces that would be responsible for the kingdom's defence, with their mentor, Altair, being the 1st-in-command and their de facto leader: it was the order of their new king after all, and Malfor actually liked how well this woman had always led their forces even amidst their basic trainings.
While they were heavily outnumbered by the Neugomian force they were about to engage with, with there only being 200 of them available against an army of 50,000 soldiers, the armor they had equipped on them would allow them to close to gap they had between their enemies- after all, even Malfor knew the power that lied within these suits, as a single one of them could allow even the weakest of individuals to deal with a hundred people all at once.
"By the count of 3, all of you shall charge into the fog and cut down every imperial soldier you see. Not to fear though, as your armor will allow you to see your targets through the thickness of the mist without much issues." Altair issued her command as she raised her sword into the air. "Malfor, begin counting at once."
"By your will..." Malfor complied, as he then began enacting his task at once.
".... 3..."
"... 2..."
"... 1..."
"Charge, all of you. All at once.... Show the men of the empire no mercy."
________________________________________
Panic erupted within the ranks of the imperial soldiers as their enemies finally unleashed their inevitable assault upon them: from the smokescreen provided to them by the mist, the concealed enemy soldiers rapidly began cutting down the Neugomians with their swords at a terrifyingly quick face, as if the men of the empire were nothing more than fields of wheat that were meant to be reaped by a scythe. Faint, armored figures emerged from the fog, and with their arrival came the immediate deaths of many of the soldiers who remained unable to see through the dense mist that surrounded them all... "They're cutting us down with ease! What are we supposed to do?!"
"Even our shields are getting ripped to pieces by their swords!"
"Damn it all! What kind of enemies are we even facing?!"
SLASH! SLASH! SLASH! SLASH! SLASH!
They were like unstoppable berserks whose rampage couldn't be stopped despite every attempt they made: the imperial soldiers were cut down en masse, and even as they plunged their spears and swords into the weak gaps of the armor of their enemies, their attacks had no effect on their mysterious adversaries ever, as if their armor was invincible to any form of harm or damage.
[Blazing Hellfire.]
[Wind Burst.]
[Lighting Storm.]
Amidst the chaos, even the imperial mages would begin to cast their spells towards the general direction from where the faint visages of their enemies could be seen, casting several, destructive arcane energies upon the enemies who had chosen to use such an underhanded trick against them.
However...
"W-what is this?! How do they still live even after getting hit with our spells?!"
"This is madness! What kind of blighted creatures are we even fighting?!"
The only things that would seemingly suffer any harm as the spellcasters hit their marks was the ground, as their enemies remained unperturbed and unaffected by the spells they threw at them by the dozens: of course, the mages would throw several more spells against these monsters, and the complete immunity their foes had to their arcane might would only become more apparent as they remained completely unfazed.
For the high-ranking imperial mage known as Aleria, it was a terrible possibility that had somehow manifested in reality- enemies that were completely immune to not only their magicks, but were also completely shrugging off ever form of physical attack that their soldiers utilized against them...
How were they supposed to fight an impossible enemy like this, when they easily remained untouched by all the attacks they were unleashing against them?
"S-shit! G-get away from me, you monster! Get away from me! D-don't come any closer!"
One of the approaching enemies was steadily closing in on her as it drew its sword, gradually closing in for the kill as it walked towards her in a slow, but dreadful advance. In complete turmoil, Aleria would cast several of her spells against the monster that was slowly approaching her, hurling spell after spell towards its direction in a desperate attempt to put a stop to its approach.
[Fireball.]
[Thunder Shock.]
[Piercing Light.]
Multiple magick circles formed in front of her as the crystal of her staff radiated with an intense, blue light, and spell after spell was immediately launched towards the approaching enemy that was trudging towards her without a single regard for its own life. Of course, many of her spells would land successful hits on its armor, making Aleria feel a pang of hope for the terrifying circumstance she was trapped in...
Even though these creatures had an incredible resistance to magick... Surely, it would have at least suffered some damages from the multitudes of spells she casted upon it?
"N-no... by arcana... HOW IS THIS MONSTER COMPLETELY UNDAMAGED?!"
It had come close enough that she could see what the monster truly looked like- it was a humanoid that was only slightly taller than her own height, but the thick, unnatural, imposing armor it bore gave Aleria an otherworldly feeling about the monstrosity before her, as if it was something she had never seen before in her entire life.
Luckily for her though, some of the soldiers from her own side would finally take notice of the desperate situation she had quickly become entrapped in.
"Protect the mage! Don't let him get close to her!"
"Charge, you lot! CHAARGGE!"
Multitudes of soldiers rushed to her protection as they readied their weapons, with half of of them running towards her as they raised their shields in defense, while the remaining, other half charged towards the monstrous enemy that was steadily closing in on her.
Unfortunately however, their useless attempt at bringing down the fell creature quickly proved to be useless...
SLASH! SLASH! SLASH! SLASH! SLASH!
The inhuman beast moved its sword, and in the blink of an eye the attacking men were turned into diced corpses as their dead pieces fell uselessly to the ground- while their attack ultimately proved to be meaningless, it at least gave more time for Aleria to unleash several more spells against it.
[Lighting Chain.]
[Fire Storm.]
Despite the accuracy of her attacks, they ultimately did no damages on the monstrous creature at all, it was almost as if it was truly, completely impervious to the likes of magick, and just the thought of it made Aleria shudder to her very core.
SLASH! SLASH! SLASH! SLASH!
The remaining men who sought to protect her amidst her spell-castings were brutally torn apart as the monster swung his sword once more, turning them into sliced chunks of meat that scattered their ichor throughout the ground in a bloody mess.
And now, there was nothing left to protect Aleria from the lone enemy that was dreadfully determined to take her life in this battle, no matter what: the mage began screaming and pleading for help to any of the nearby soldiers, but alas, the ongoing chaos induced by the fog would prevent the poor mage from being saved by her panicking allies who were already quickly getting wiped out...
"H-HELP ME! I DON'T WANT TO DIE! ANYONE, PLEASE! SAVE ME FROM THIS MONSTER, I BEG OF YO-"
Before Aleria could finish her words, a quick, horizontal strike from the monster's sword would cleave through her soft neck, making her head depart from her spine as it was then propelled into the air due to the immense power of the blow that had been delivered...
________________________________________
What a bloody mess, he thought to himself as he took part in the grisly, fog-ridden chaos before them: from what he could count, Malfor had already slain 50 of the Neugomians with his sword, and yet there were still many more of them within the fog that they had to deal before the battle was finally over.
Unlike their enemies, they could see both friend and foe thanks to the advanced features of the suits they wore on themselves: there were these several diagrams, displays and symbols that appeared on their sights that allowed them to see their allies and targets through the fog, marking them with faint, humanoid silhouettes of green and red that they could clearly see with their eyes, and although such things would seem complicated at first glance, they eventually became incredibly accustomed to it after the months of training they underwent.
Still though, that shrill scream of mercy that the mage woman let out before he slew her... Granted, while it was a bit haunting for the likes of Malfor, who disliked bringing harm to both women and children alike, it was ultimately a necessary evil he had to do in order to win them the conflict- she was a mage after all, and there was no way that he was simply going to just spare her amidst the battle that was going underway.
"They're too strong, we have to fall back! We can't fight them head on, it's too dangero-"
SLASH! SLASH! SLASH! SLASH!
The reason for the abnormal strength they were displaying was because of the power armour they had donned on: it not only vastly improved their physical capabilities and greatly reduced the physical strain they had to experience in combat, but it also provided protection against the one fatal advantage that the imperials possessed against their forces.
Anti-magick... The surfaces of their armor possessed some sort of property that rendered them incredibly resistant to any form of arcane forces. Their new king had a great many technologies available to him when he first drove away the Neugomians from their land: while Malfor knew that their suits were but in experimental phases that were still running through trial and error, he couldn't help but feel amazed with how sophisticated and effective they were in the conflict they were currently in, as they were easily defeating the imperial army before them as if they were nothing more than insects to be crushed.
"Shield Formations ready! Hurl all your javelins at once!"
"Ready, aim, throw-"
SLASH! SLASH! SLASH! SLASH!
Alas, Malfor was forced to cut down more of these helpless fools as the battle raged on, making sure to end them quick by delivering tha most fatal blows as swiftly as possible- even though he disliked the existence of the empire and its imperialistic ideals, he wasn't the type who favoured inflicting suffering upon others, even to those who absolutely deserve it.
"Sir Malfor! There you are! Thank the Lord, you seem to have remained perfectly fine!"
A gentle tap would make contact with the shoulder plates of his armor, and as Malfor looked beside him he quickly discovered that it was Casimir who had garnered his attention: granted though, while the suit was the one who made the process of identifying his friend, Malfor could immediately tell just who it was who had spoken to him based on how he spoke alone.
"... So do you, Casimir... You look even better than my current state, actually." Malfor answered, as he stopped his movements for a moment and then posed a question of his own. "How are the others faring, by the way? Have any of our men gotten injured yet?"
"The others are doing fine as well... It's just..." Casimir replied. "... How long will it be until the battle ends? It's starting to make even me a bit shaken with how many we've killed already... And I think the same could be said for the others, to be honest..."
A long sigh emerged from Malfor's mouth as he spoke. "It's not about to end yet, if that's what you think. There are hundreds more of these bastards, and it's not just going to end after this one skirmish we pulled them into."
"... I see..." Casimir uttered back. "... I guess we'll just have to keep killing as many of them as we can, huh?"
"Indeed... It's either us or them, Casimir. We can't let them in the capital, or else chaos would ensue, and our newfound freedom will be taken from us again."
Truthfully, many of them found it difficult to kill all of these soldiers in front of them with such a monstrously brutal efficiency: even though some of them made sure that the deaths they inflicted ran quick, there was still that sense of guilt for the men they had to kill in order to keep their freedom and ensure the survival of their kingdom.
Even if it was their job to ensure their nation's safety and survival, the knights were ultimately human as well, and they couldn't help but feel pity for the imperial soldjers they had to massacre so that they could win the battle: it was a situation that they couldn't back down from just because it didn't sit right with their morals, lest they risk their kingdom being reduced to a helpless vassal once more as its people become slaves that would be forced to serve the will of the Neugomian Empire once again.
Suddenly, however, something unprecedented would happen to the both of them in a completely unexpected manner...
BLAMM!!!
"Die, you metal-clad fuckers!"
A powerful, blunt force struck Casimir's chest, an attack that hailed from the fist of the well-built figure who had appeared all of a sudden- it was one of the 7 Hundred Seats who accompanied the imperial army, Falzhan of the Iron Fist, and with his incredible physical strength, he easily managed to send the armored knight flying into the air due to the sheer power of the force he used against him.
"CASIMIR!" Malfor yelled in a panic, shocked at what had suddenly just occurred as he readied his sword to fight against this particularly powerful enemy. "You bastard! I'll cut you down at once!"
He leapt towards him with a sudden burst of strength, swerving his sword as he began to move its razored edge towards his opponent's vulnerable flesh- it only took a few milliseconds for him to close the gap, and Malfor was absolutely certain that it would have been his victory...
However...
CLANG!
A second enemy appeared from the thickness of the mist, another member of the Hundred Seats that wielded a sword which he used to counterract the attack that Malfor was about to deliver: it was Airen the spellfencer, and his incredible power immediately became apparent with how easily he parried Malfor's blow as if it were nothing.
"... How strange... My sword was enchanted with a maximized sharpness spell... How come it didn't cut through his blade?"
"Airen, you idiot! These guys have some sort of resistance to magick! You're gonna have to resort to old-fashioned brute force if you wanna bring them down!"
"I see... Let's team up for now then, Falzhan. This one seems to be particularly troublesome..."
This was going to be a problem... Malfor surmised as he analyzed the 2 opponents before him right now: it didn't take a genius to know that these 2 were already incredibly powerful by their own, and the fact that both of them were here right now to deal with him was already starting to make him feel anxious...
Would he even be able to win against them? Or would they manage to defeat him through their own, terrifying strength?
What's more, was that Malfor was still incredibly worried about the condition of his friend who had previously been sent flying- he needed to check up on him right now if he was alright, but he currently wasn't able to do so due to being cornered by the 2 enemies who were about to attack him this very moment.
Luckily though, as quickly as the bad circumstance arrived to bring chaos to his current moment, a fortunate miracle would just as swiftly come to him as he stood there motionlessly in anticipation of the attacks that his 2 enemies were about to make...
SLASSHHHH!!!
"..."
"... F-Falzhan... What the hell..."
It took only a single second for the tide of battle to turn to Malfor's favour, as one of the 2 Hundred Seats would suddenly perish in an instant: a trail of lightning sped through the air, and the head of the 3rd ranked champion left his body as it flew into the air due to being cleaved cleanly off of his own body, leaving his dead body lifeless as it eventually slumped towards the ground in defeat.
"This is not a fight you can handle with your current skill level, Malfor. Go and deal with the other enemy soldiers."
Beside Malfor was the superior who had trained him for all those days of grueling, merciless labour, the woman who could move faster than what human eye's could perceive, and with the power amplification effect that her armor provided for her, her agility became comparable to that of lightning strikes that would appear and disappear in less than a millisecond's worth of time.
"If you're worried about your friend, don't worry." Altair would mention briefly. "He's completely fine, just a bit... Dazed. He's over there... Go to him and make sure if he sustained any serious injuries."
Immediately, Malfor would of course pay heed to her command without any refutations, as even he knew that she was completely in the right with what she just said. "... A-alright... I'll do so at once..."
A temporary panic overtook Airen's mind for a moment as he witnessed the sudden death of his companion before him- he couldn't even see where she had come from and from what direction did she make her angle of attack, as the speed she possessed was unlike anything he had ever seen before.
This was bad... he quickly analyzed, instantly realizing how much of a threat this woman was going to be: the spellfencer immediately realized that he was going to have to go all-out from the very beginning if he was going to fight her, or else he'd easily get defeated here and lose his life like his now-dead friend.
"Now then..." as Malfor took his leave, Altair would point the tip of her bloodied sword towards Falzhan as she stared coldly into her enemy's eyes.
"Let's make this quick, shall we? I currently don't have the luxury of time, so I need you dead as quickly as possible."
________________________________________
The prestigious spellfencer of the Gerusca Kingdom's people... The greatest magick swordsman rivaled only by a few people in the continent... The one who could cut through boulders with a single cut of his sword...
These were the praises that Airen would often receive from those who admired him, as the strength he possessed as a warrior was not something that one could simply ignore or disregard.
Airen grew up in an aristocratic family of prestigious origins, with his father being a general of the Gerusca Kingdom's forces, and his mother being a strategist who led countless victories thanks to her sharp, tactical mind.
As a child, Airen often looked up to his family with great awe, and he began to hope that he would one day become just as great as them, and obtain the glory that his parents would always revel in.
And of course, the swordsman did everything he could in order to to pursue this noble dream of his.
For most of his life, the young Airen would train in both the way of the sword and the way of magick under countless instructors, gradually managing to combine their elements as he eventually became one of the rarest forms of martial artists that exist in the world- warriors so powerful yet few in number, that the very names of their roles would often bring people into a sense of fear and admiration...
Spellfencers... They were swordsmen who could infuse magick directly into their blades, allowing them to attack both physically and magickally as they cleaved through whatever enemy they fought against with ease. While they were impressively powerful combatants, their arts and techniques were often too difficult too master, which was why such terrifying monsters only existed in exceedingly few numbers.
Against all the odds however, Airen became one of these monstrosities through years of training and sacrifice, and so even his family began to treasure him as one of their greatest.
This was the story of Airen the Spellfencer, the 2nd rank of the Arslan's Hand's Hundred Seats, a swordmage who could cut through nearly everything with his arcane-enhanced blade, a warrior whose power was surpassed only by Regulus, the 1st rank, and their master, Arnus von Arslan, the figurehead of the Hand of Arslan and its forces.
... Unfortunately though, this prestigious man would finally meet an enemy that could match his strength and cunning in battle, and it would quickly become clear just who exactly would be the victor in his short-lived duel against her...
...
...
[Rapid Mode Activated: Synaptic Cognition increased by 500%]
The moment that mode had been activated, her entire body tensed up with a great, heart-pumping adrenaline as her nerves fired up into quick bursts of action...
Time seemed to move slower for Altair the moment those words were announced to her by the automated voice in her armor: while she understood not a single thing about what the voice had stated, she could at least understand that the very speeds which Altair's body could move at have been increased greatly.
"W-what the hell?!"
"!!!"
The air rippled with the sound of their clashing blades, as jolts of electricity crackled with every strike that Altair inflicted, while the 2 warriors dueled against each other in a quick battle where the spellfencer was clearly on the losing end.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
Altair's attacks came in quick successions, with some of her attacks being too fast that not even Airen could hope to perceive them, allowing a portion of them to remain unblocked as they struck his battle armor and began chipping off small fragments from its metal.
Airen had quickly found himself in a vastly unfavorable scenario that he never would have thought to be possible- his sword, which was already enhanced with various enhancement spells that amplified its cutting power and speed, was unable to secure him even a moment's worth of advantage over his enemy, as Altair kept out-speeding the hapless warrior with a frightening agility that exceeded what the spellfencer currently possessed.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
"Y-you monster...!" Airen cursed at her monstrous power, unable to do much to match it with his own. "I'll defeat you right now with everything I have!"
The spellfencer's sword was then suddenly enveloped by a thin, blag, fog-like miasma that covered most of its metal body: not only that however, but the thin, shadowy mist would also begin to cover the surface of his own battle armor as well, providing a form of protection that rendered him nigh-invulnerable to most forms of damage due to its unique form of protection to its caster...
The sword of decay, which was the spellfencer's greatest blade spell that he could ever hope to use- so great was its destructive power, that Airen himself would find a relatively few amount of moments where he could actually use it against his enemies.
It was a spell that would cause a rapid deterioration unto everything it made contact with, as even the slightest touch from the blade would cause a decaying effect that was capable of eating away even objects and entities of magickal origin. It also produced an ominous, pitch-black light as a result of the decaying effect it inflicted upon the air that surrounded it, as only its user remained unaffected by the swift, deadly destruction it could bring upon its opponents.
Not only that however, but the spell was also capable of protecting him from any form of attack that would try to hit him; by surrounding his body with its shadowy embrace, it rendered the spellfencer nearly immune to any form of physical attack that would try to come and harm him.
In short, it was the most devastating sword spell he had in his arsenal, an enchantment that would allow his sword to defeat and slay anything it manages to make contact with using its fearsome edge...
"Blade of Decay, Final Form!" Airen shouted as he made his move. "It all ends here, monster!"
What Airen failed to consider though, was that despite his newfound invincibility to his enemy's attacks, he had failed to give a single thought about the fact that she was still far more agile than the greatest levels of speed he could achieve, even with the help of his own enhancement magicks...
...
...
This was strange...
Her instincts told her that simply approaching that black miasma that enveloped her opponent was a dangerous thing to consider, and so Altair would temporarily halt her attacks as she stood there silently and quickly began making her plans.
Perhaps it was a form of protection that would make him resistant to the blows she would use to attack him? Or perhaps was it a form of enhancement that could finally allow him to match her speed?
In any case, Altair had no plans of prolonging this battle any further, as there were still a lot of enemies that needed to be slain before the mist would finally dissipate and blow away their cover, a terrible-scenario that would allow the Neugomians to rally their forces and perhaps finally pose a threat to their limited numbers.
It was time to deal the finishing blow, and Altair knew exactly how she was going to execute it...
"You shouldn't be announcing your techniques when you're about to do them, but... Ah well... it's time for you to die."
Altair's attack had to be quick and precise, as even though the sword she wielded was perfectly capable of negating the magick barrier surrounding her opponent, she couldn't risk her blade getting potentially damaged by the protective barrier's anomalous effects, and so she had to make sure that this one swerve of her sword would instantly kill him without delay.
[Diverting 20% of available power to weapon... Parsing...]
The assassin's blade crackled with blue, electrical energies as she raised it into the air. Simultaneously, pieces of the ground surrounding her would break off from the earth as they were struck by wild bolts of lightning that came from her charging blade, making them defy gravity as they began hovering slightly into the air.
Only 3 seconds would be consumed by the process of the attack's preparation, and as it was finally finished and ready to be unleashed, Altair wasted no time in delivering her swift, final verdict to the charging spellfencer.
[Power Diversion Complete.]
SWOOOSSHHHHH!!!!!
It was an attack that was hundreds of times faster than the speed of lightning, and as a result, not even Altair could see how quickly she had struck him down with this finishing blow: the assassin's sword made a single, downwards cleave, easily piercing through the inch-thin barrier of death and decay that protected her opponent from harm, as its sharp edge then cleaved through his soft flesh and split his vulnerable body into 2 equal parts.
Alas, this was how the 2nd rank of the Hundred Seats, Airen the Spellfencer, would meet his end at the hands of his monstrously powerful slayer, and although he died a true, warrior's death, the mission he sought to accomplish here would ultimately never be achieved...