The air crackled with tension as the armies stared each other down, a sea of dark creatures bristling with anticipation against the much smaller holy defenders. Lyra stood atop the city walls, her heart pounding but her face calm as steel. She could feel the immense pressure radiating from the enemy Generals, their arrogance like a suffocating smog threatening to choke her resolve.
Fujin's voice echoed in her mind, clear and commanding. "Lyra, you must prepare for the worst. If the tide turns, you may need to reveal that you're still alive—reveal who you truly are—and fight in your Godform. But know the cost."
Lyra clenched her jaw, her hand gripping her sword tightly. "Not yet," she thought back. "I'll buy us time. Their arrogance will be their downfall."
She raised her sword, casting a spell to amplify her voice, making it boom across the battlefield like a thunderclap. Her words carried strength and mockery, cutting through the tension like a blade.
"Is this all you've got?" she taunted, her voice laced with disdain. "Twenty-five thousand soldiers, five Generals—how impressive. Yet you hesitate before a mere two thousand defenders? Do you fear us that much?"
The enemy lines stirred uneasily, growls and murmurs rippling through their ranks. The five Generals stood at the forefront, their faces twisted with annoyance and contempt.
A hulking orc General, his tusks gleaming in the dim light, snarled. "Do you think your tricks will work on us, little girl? Your city is doomed."
Lyra smirked, her voice carrying a mocking edge. "Little girl? If you're so confident, why not settle this with honor? Let's see if your Generals are as strong as you claim. A duel—our finest versus yours. Or are you too scared to face us without hiding behind your army?"
The Generals exchanged glances, their egos pricked by her challenge.
A tall, pale figure stepped forward, his long black hair flowing like a shadow. His crimson eyes burned with malice. This was Zvaren's brother, Malphas, a General from the Nightfall family. Beside him stood their sister, Svaria, her sharp features and black armor gleaming with dark energy.
"Fine," Malphas sneered, his voice cold and venomous. "We'll humor you. But when we win, we'll take your city and leave nothing but ashes."
Svaria smirked. "Choose your champion, commander. Let's see what pitiful creature dares face us."
Lyra took a deep breath, her heart racing. She had introduced herself as a fake commander, hoping to delay the inevitable. Now, she had to back her words.
"I'll fight," she said, stepping forward. Her voice was steady, but inside, a storm raged. "I don't need to use my Godform. I can hold them off... I have to."
The enemy forces erupted into laughter, mocking her slender frame and apparent audacity.
The Duel Begins
Malphas waved his hand dismissively, gesturing for one of his lieutenants—a towering demon with four arms and molten skin—to step forward. The creature snarled, gripping two massive battle axes.
"Kill her quickly," Malphas ordered, smirking.
Lyra raised her sword, her grip firm despite the weight of the moment. The duel began, the demon charging at her with a feral roar.
Lyra moved swiftly, her elven grace unmatched as she dodged the demon's wild swings. Her sword danced in her hands, striking precise blows that chipped away at the creature's defenses. But the demon was relentless, its sheer power forcing her to stay on the defensive.
The battle raged, each clash of steel echoing across the battlefield. Lyra's movements were sharp and calculated, but the demon's strength began to overwhelm her. A powerful strike knocked her off balance, sending her crashing to the ground.
The enemy forces roared in triumph as the demon loomed over her, its axes raised for the killing blow.
The Burning of Yggdrasil
As Lyra lay on the ground, the demon's shadow darkening her vision, memories flooded her mind. She was a child again, running through the burning forests of Eden. The great tree Yggdrasil had been set ablaze, its sacred branches consumed by flames.
Her village had been attacked, the attackers relentless and merciless. She remembered the screams of her people, the cries of her parents as they fought to protect her and her twin sister.
"Run, Lyra! Take your sister and run!" her mother's voice rang out.
She had grabbed her sister's hand, pulling her away from the chaos. Tears streamed down her face as they fled, leaving behind everything they had ever known.
In the present, Lyra's eyes filled with tears. She remembered the pain, the loss, and the vow she had made that day.
"I joined the God´s-Union to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. To make sure no child would ever have to feel that pain again. I can't fail now."
Lyra´s Pride
Lyra's eyes snapped open, a fierce determination burning within her. She gritted her teeth, preparing to unlock the curse that bound her Godform.
"Even if it costs me everything, I'll save them. I'll save my sister..."
Just as she was about to unleash her true power, a blazing streak of fire shot down from the sky.
Jareth appeared in an instant, his fiery wings spread wide as he descended like a comet. With a roar, he delivered a devastating flying kick to the demon's head, the force of the blow shattering its skull and sending it crashing to the ground.
The battlefield fell silent, the enemy forces stunned by his sudden arrival.
Jareth landed gracefully, his fiery aura radiating power. He glanced at Lyra, his expression a mix of relief and determination.
"You look like you could use a hand," he said, offering her a hand to stand.
Lyra stared at him, her emotions swirling. "You... you made it."
"Of course," Jareth said, his voice firm. "I'm not letting this city fall. Not today."
He turned to face the enemy Generals, his fiery eyes locking onto them.
"Who's next?" he growled, his voice filled with the promise of vengeance.
The Generals stepped forward, their auras flaring as the true battle began. The clash between light and darkness was far from over.