The quiet of the town stretched long into the morning, its streets waking slowly with the sounds of carts rolling over cobblestones and the chatter of merchants setting up shop. Sora woke to the faint scent of bread wafting through the window, the golden morning light spilling into their small room at the inn.
She sat up, rubbing her eyes and glancing toward the table where Mary sat, as poised as ever, her scythe leaning nearby. A small pile of coins rested on the wooden surface, their payment from the herb collection mission. But next to it lay a new parchment, the bold red seal of an A-rank mission catching her eye.
"Good morning, dear," Mary said warmly, her voice gentle but firm. She gestured toward the coins. "Yesterday's work bore some fruit, but..." Her tone shifted slightly, a hint of resolve coloring her words. "It's not enough. I've taken on a new mission."
Sora's golden eyes flicked to the parchment, widening slightly as she read the details. "A wyvern?" she murmured, the weight of the words sinking in.
"Yes," Mary replied, her tone even. "It's an A-rank beast. Normally, I'd never consider taking something this dangerous with you so close at hand, but it's heading toward this town. If we don't stop it..." She didn't finish the sentence, letting the implications hang in the air.
Sora's jaw tightened, her respect for Mary warring with her desire to help. "You're not going alone," she said firmly, standing up.
Mary's gaze softened as she looked at her. "Dear, I admire your spirit, but this is a mission for someone experienced. Wyverns aren't ordinary beasts. I need you here, safe."
"But, Ms. Poppins—"
Mary placed a hand gently on her shoulder, cutting her off. "You've grown so much already, Sora, but this isn't about bravery. It's about responsibility. You've done your part, and I'm proud of you for it. Let me do mine."
Sora lowered her gaze, torn but trusting in Mary's judgment. "Promise me you'll come back safely..." she said quietly, her voice almost trembling.
Mary smiled, a rare, soft expression that felt like a warm embrace. "I'll come back, dear. I promise."
As Mary gathered her scythe and left the room, the morning light caught on the polished metal of the weapon, glinting briefly before she closed the door behind her. Sora stood there for a long moment, staring at the closed door and clutching her pendant—a small token Mary had gifted her when they first started traveling together.
In the guildhall, Mary approached the receptionist, who looked up with a mixture of gratitude and concern. "You're really going after the wyvern?"
"I am," Mary replied simply, sliding the mission parchment across the desk. "This town deserves to sleep soundly tonight."
The receptionist hesitated before nodding, stamping the parchment with an approval seal. "It was last sighted near the ridge west of the valley. It's fast, so be careful."
Mary nodded and adjusted her cloak. With the mission officially accepted, she stepped out into the morning light. The road leading west stretched out before her, quiet and empty, the mountains looming in the distance.
The wyvern awaited.
The wyvern roared, a guttural, resonant sound that shook the ground beneath them. Its massive wings flapped with power, sending gusts of wind that nearly knocked Mary off balance. Zephyr, her trusted scythe, glinted menacingly in her hands. Unlike a typical scythe, this one was far more intricate—crafted with elegant gears and mechanisms that pulsed with energy. At the tip of its blade, a faint crackle of electricity built up, ready to strike at anything within range.
Mary swung the scythe in a wide arc, the electric charge running down the blade with an almost musical hum. As the wyvern lunged toward her, its jaws snapping, she spun, her movement swift yet precise, the blade slicing through the air like lightning itself. The force of the strike sent a surge of volts surging through the wyvern's scales, but it barely flinched.
"Blast it," she muttered under her breath, her tone stiff, as she quickly adjusted her stance, her eyes narrowing. "You're far more resilient than I anticipated, dear foe."
The wyvern's claws tore at the air, narrowly missing her, forcing Mary to leap backward. Sweat dotted her brow as she pushed herself back onto her feet, a slight tremor in her hands as she gripped the handle of Zephyr tighter. The scythe wasn't just a weapon—it was an extension of herself. Yet, even with her skill, the wyvern's sheer size and ferocity were beginning to wear her down.
She spun again, attempting to strike at the wyvern's vulnerable underbelly, but it was fast—too fast. Its tail whipped around, striking her across the chest with such force that she was sent sprawling to the ground. For a moment, the world tilted as her breath hitched. She quickly recovered, though, rolling to her feet, but the wyvern wasn't giving her a moment to breathe.
"This is a slight problem..." she muttered, gritting her teeth. She could feel the weight of the scythe in her grip, the tension in her arms as she prepared to face the wyvern head-on again.
Mary wasn't a stranger to danger, but this wyvern was no ordinary beast. It was relentless, faster than she had expected, and much more durable. She couldn't afford to hesitate.
With a quiet breath, she steadied herself. This time, she was determined to strike decisively. She leaped forward, her scythe raised high, and as the wyvern moved in to strike, she released a burst of electric energy, sending an explosive shock through the wyvern's body. It screeched in pain, but its fury was far from subdued. It reared up, its wings flapping so hard the air seemed to crack under its power.
Mary's heart raced, but her focus remained sharp. With a well-timed swing, she slashed through the wyvern, the charge running through its body, the crackling energy forcing it into submission. But even then, it fought to regain control.
She felt a pang of exhaustion in her limbs, but her resolve only strengthened. "I am not done yet," she said firmly, voice steady despite the weight of the battle pressing against her.
Mary's breath was ragged as she faced the wyvern, her arms trembling from exhaustion. The beast had taken everything she had thrown at it, and then some. She could feel the pressure mounting, but she refused to let it show. Zephyr hummed in her grip, the electric energy coursing through its mechanisms, ready to unleash its true potential.
The wyvern, now wounded but far from subdued, lunged at her again, its jaws snapping with lethal intent. Mary gritted her teeth, her eyes narrowing. This would be the final blow. She had one chance to end this.
Her fingers tightened around the scythe's handle as she planted her feet firmly, grounding herself against the wyvern's incoming charge. "Zephyr," she murmured under her breath, her voice steady despite the adrenaline pounding in her chest. "Time to finish this."
In an instant, the air around them crackled as she spun Zephyr high above her head. The scythe's internal gears whirred, and the electric power that had been building up surged through the blade, arcing violently. She could feel the energy vibrating through her entire body as her heart raced, but there was no hesitation. Her entire being was focused on this moment.
With a sharp, decisive motion, she swung Zephyr down at the wyvern. The electricity at the tip of the blade shot forward in a concentrated burst, the energy swirling into a brilliant, blinding arc of lightning. It formed into a sharp, crackling projectile, a slash of raw electric power that tore through the air like a whip.
The wyvern let out a deafening screech as the arc of lightning struck its wing, the sheer force of the blow cleaving through the thick membrane and bone. The blast of electricity didn't stop there; it surged through the wyvern's body, cutting a path of devastation as the energy bled through its veins. The beast's wings were shredded, and it faltered in mid-air, its once-mighty form falling to the ground, now battered and bleeding.
The electricity continued to course through the wyvern, its body twitching violently as it slowly bled out. The beast's once-threatening roars fell silent, its movements weakening as the last of the electrical charge drained from its body.
Mary lowered Zephyr, her breathing heavy but controlled, watching as the wyvern collapsed, its final breath escaping in a low hiss. She didn't move for a moment, her mind focused on the silence that followed the storm. The air hummed with the fading crackle of electricity, and as the wyvern lay still, she allowed herself a brief moment of respite.
"Thunderclap." she muttered to herself, the name of the move slipping from her lips like a prayer. It had been a great risk due to it consuming all left over energy, but thankfully, it had been enough.
The fight was over.