"What if I want to fuck you?" came the honest reply. The other warrior's shoulders squared slightly, yet she didn't turn.
The first warrior pursued: "You asked me to be raw and true, didn't you? Well, here, I'm compliant and truthful. This is a unique feeling, one I've never had before. When I see you, I want to lay my hands on your body and possess you, mark you. I feel the battle rush we both know; still I do not wish to harm you. I want to make you mine."
Cold eyes and a disdainful snort welcomed the confession. The warrior faced her and uttered: "So you're a beast then, Miria. You're equally made of human and demon parts, yet you merged only the worst of both. I wish to have no business with you for the time being and coming."
Pained eyes followed this answer and its perpetrator, when they both heard an old, almost ancient voice.
"You should not be that rash and cruel, Galatea. I remember there was a time you stood at her place, with equally overwhelming sensation and dire desperation. Greetings, God Eye Galatea, Phantom Miria."
The aura tracker flinched at the sermoning tone. She was also angered to be reminded of a past she would have prefer to left buried, a fact she would have like the newcomer to experience as well. Still a stronger feeling was overcoming her emotional state, as she had sensed a nearby being without a precise location, and she was furious against herself. She hated to be surprised and to lack control over events, moreover when they involved this precise person. However she did not have the time to reply wittily, as the third party spoke, voice full of saddening pain and shame another soul knew of her predicament.
"Quicksword Ilena, I feel honoured by your presence and utterly mortified of your knowledge of my wicked mind." She finally brought her legs to life and walk past the fuming warrior, whom she was hurt from the most.
The pale woman spoke: " There is no need to feel that way," she directed at Miria, before turning to Galatea. "And for the embarrassment, I think in this place you're not the one that should be plagued by It." she finished, eyes sending disappointment upon the beautiful, yet rotten warrior.
Said woman had such pride she could not prevent herself from sending a hurting wave of aura at the two protagonists.
The current number 6 took it and while she was usually stronger enough to bear it, she winced closing her eyes.
Ilena though spared it and strode threateningly towards the offender. A part of the current number 3 knew she crossed the line, yet she would not let her former mentor berate her like the child she was no more. She stood tall, shoulders slightly broadened.
Ilena sighed, her remaining arm curling over her shoulder to grip her claymore. "I see you haven't redeemed yourself, and worst of all heed my warnings. To me you are still the spoiled child I tried to help. I will not do the mistake of letting you pass through this unharmed a second time. When you are ready, Galatea."
Said warrior had enough pride to keep on her attitude, yet a sense of survival and intelligence made her body already transformed with unleashed aura, as she knew this would be a harsh battle Her already imposing body shifted as powerful muscles started to grow. Ilena kept her stance, calm and collected. Miria could only stand and watch, lightly shaking as she sensed the place being filled with death-bearing aura.
The current number 3, although a defensive type, launched the fight on the offensive counterpart. Ilena effortlessly let the wave of controlling aura pass through her, as her own was so restrained there was nothing to take command upon. At the same time Galatea lounged at her, her claymore trusted forward, aiming for a lethal blow.
The former number 2 walked past her and stopped, claymore unsheathed. Galatea saw red, real red. Blood seeped forcefully from a gashing wound near her heart. The lightning sword technique expert had also opted for a unique, end-fighting blow.
Galatea became angrier at the thought of being yet again, after all this time, overpowered by the incomplete warrior. Aura was unleashed, body again morphing.
There was a flash, as the 6-ranked warrior did take the claymore in her right hand, the blade already cutting it, another palm against the wound. She thought of closing it quicker to calm the rejecting woman and prevent her from doing a mistake much more hazardous. The former number 2 went behind the tracker, her only hand on her right shoulder.
"Control your anger, child. You may be the embodiment of vanity, yet you do know of your wrong ways." She spared Galatea the embarrassment of the situation by performing a swift blow, sending the warrior to darkness.
"Phantom Miria, I suggest you take care of your dominant hand and of that threatening desperation inside of you."