Act.26 Moscatto & Everclear: Dawn of the Jabberwocky Part 2
13th September, Vatican City, Rome, Italy, 14:10 pm
[~Ivan Dominik – Fighting for the World~]
"ANNIHILATE ALL RESISTANCE! THE ENEMY LIES AHEAD OF US!", the monstrous roar of the now sentient Jabberwocky echoed with deafening terror, filling the hearts of the resistance with trepidation and primal fear. The behemoth spoke through all three of the mouths upon it's hideous visage, eyes maddened with outrage focused on the enemies before it as to scope the entirety of their numbers and arms.
It raised a finger on one of the four hands to point at the barrier where the true target lied in wait. Steeling itself completely by adjusting it's stance, the World Destroyer coordinated the three healthy arms to align in a guard and the last one to act as it's striker. Both tails landed on the builds, adding further collateral damage to the area as it bent slightly and curled it's fists in a taunt.
It was more than ready, it was liberated at last and with it came the actual disgusting, enraged sneer of sharpened teeth and tongues.
The smouldering, dying Bandersnatch spawns were marching faster than before for creatures of such magnitude. What was once flesh was rendered into a pitch black blistering cover with the flames of Deus Solaris ravaging their bodies, hampering their movement and reducing them to mere meat shields. Very big and deadly meat shields, that is. They looked like giant silhouettes of divine flames than any living being, their lives being consumed by the purifying, undying fire of Uriel.
Their end was nearing fast. They were betting everything on this stampede.
The angelic legions lined up in a renewed order, covering each other within rows before the barriers. Erelim, Powers, Principalities, Dominions and Ophanim braced themselves to take on the incoming Bandersnatch spawns, focusing on their seither and mana to support each other in the face of fear.
Weapons that could break lesser gods and demons were called to aid them. All of their wings were changing into ethereal flames, slabs of stone and celestial metal, photonic appendages sprang from their spines into constructs of light and other elements. Wings of pure water, magnetic fields contained within the limbs flared out and attracted any metal particle to form more weapons at their disposal.
Dominions enlarged their bodies and switched armor to become what they had truly been - flesh was discarded to liberate the true nature of the angelic warriors, beings of light and ephemeral spirits of divine.
Light radiated from every corner of the barrier. Beautiful, soft and gentle illumination spread out in all directions as the flares were lit.
The merged Dominions rallied together at every location they had been stationed with their ten humongous wings spreading out with each metalic feather flaring in a mixture of elements. A new defense was being built, shields were erected at the meantime as the celestial warriors started to combine their powers to craft more weapons that could finish off the dying Bandersnatch.
"Let's do this together, my brethren. It is an honor to fight alongside all of you.", Uriel muttered through his armored form, intensifying the flames of Deus Solaris to create flaming constructs around him as he stood upon the back of the King Bahamut. He knew they would stop this abomination, he was not alone.
All of his body glowed fiercely in righteous fury, his constructs solidified into a small legion of angelic swordsmen around him, fluttering in the air and awaiting his command.
"Take on the rest. The ugly one is mine!"
The Jabberwocky immediately responded. It curled all three of it's working arms together, moving the fourth as a shield as it took heavy steps forward with renewed speed. It's despicable roars echoed all over the place as each step demolished the rubble underneath. The mist and the minimal illumination casted a dark shadow as it moved, covered in pitch blackness, ready to pummel the defenders in a war of attrition.
In return, the Colossus that had aided them in their darkest hour rushed ahead with a titanic leap that shook the ground in thunderous echoes, bringing up both fists with rubble crafted brass knuckles. It's gargantuan mass acted as a shield to cover the celestial soldiers while it threw it's right fist in a quick jab. The arm swerved downwards, clashing against the two right arms in a block till it parted it's legs and stepped sideways to deliver a left hook like any boxer would in punching the eldritch abomination in the neck.
The hit connected, producing a sound wave as the metal pieces dug into the armored neck and retracted for a secondary punch. The other arm slipped back and initiated a heavy straight punch aimed for it's jaw but the main spawn swung it's fourth arm before it's eyes, deflecting the crushing blow and instantly responded by using the lower set of arms to grip the Colossus at the armpits, applying pressure with it's clawed hands to crumble and chip away the materials it was composed of.
Powers rushed ahead under the command of Zechariah, bringing forth their divine armaments to shoot flaming arrows and javelins of earthly mass into the chinks of it's durable armor. From the other side came along Raphael, who compressed the hurricanes produced by his wings into wind tunnel where all of the oxygen was used to intensify the flames that raged upon it's surface, drilling into the hide of blades from the back. Rahab gathered the light emanating from his peers to call forth a thirty meter lance of photons, swirling with electric sparks and the rays of the sun combined as he threw it at the right leg.
All of the heat that was produced was rising in the clouds, further changing the weather for Jegudiel to bring down lightning on the head of the Jabberwocky - it crashed against the ugly head right where the crown of broken horns resided, stunning it for a moment when a Haymaker punch was landed by the female-like titan, pushing it away slightly till it swung both tails at it with zeal.
Those long tails were caught by the debris construct and it tugged on them with claws digging in. Another moment and it released one of them to pull the juggernaut closer and bash it's left fist in it's jaw, filling it's main maw with metal and rocks before it retraced it's move and brought it's knee into it's pelvic area to stun it.
The Annihilation Maker paused briefly, laden with pain as it attempted to fight back with ardor if it weren't for an enormous spear of earthly matter spreading into cones on top of it's chest plates, obstructing the dual jaws from charging any attack.
The regular Dominions grew up to ten meters and altered their forms further; pinions of razor sharp steel fanned out as the suits became sleeker and changed patterns. Mighty warhammers were clasped and dealt heavy blows on repeat as the Ophanim and Erelim used every tool they had at their disposal to slow it down with chains and rows of spiked walls, hampering it's movement.
The Jabberwocky wasn't giving up at all.
Rather, it smiled viciously as pain laced every inch of it's atrocious body but it fought back - the horn growths that were on it's hide were expelled to the ground as if droplets of water, stabbing into boulevards and streets like markers. The damage it was taking did not dissuade it as it tanked each hit with that near impenetrable plating it had but it knew there was a limit to how much it could endure.
In a fit of rage it mercilessly dug the secondary hands further into it's opponent's body and started pushing upwards to lift it as it took heavy blows to the torso and the head. The other hands clasped the crude fists and started pulling them apart.
Those growths started to coalesce together with the layered sandbox of a battlefield; building blocks, pavement, asphalt, cars, glass and everything imaginable was merging with the liquefied ichor growths in a shape that resembled a straight sword.
Souls kept rushing towards the Annihilation Maker spawns, pushing them back and keeping them at bay while the other posts were joining forces to offer a merciless retaliation. Fallen Angels bolstered the offensive by weaving elemental enchantments over the walls their brothers and sisters were making. More so than ever, they would show that the beings which comprised Celestial were no pushovers - they were only one type of the many more out in the world.
Jabberwocky moved backwards by a few steps, attempting to pick up it's newly formed weapon with it's tail. However, the souls and the Dominions were preventing it from doing so by the barrage they gave in kind; ice started to form on the weaponized mace tails and spread out in lines of glaciers pinning it down for a miniscule second. If it had that sword the area it could cover would have been magnified. Despite the frostbite, the three eyed behemoth shattered the ice and nearly managed to unearth the blade if not for the abnormal battle cry of someone from below.
"No, you won't!", a hardened growl was heard from below.
Enraged, unmatched in it's wrath it was as two hands of earthly debris gripped the makeshift weapon that the Jabberwocky was preparing and lifted it with inhuman strength. That blade popped off the ground and had surely destroyed a boulevard or two by the large gash on the surface.
Numerous fists of concrete were hovering in that tiny corner of air space, acting as a wall to provide a rather crude defense. The stolen weapon was held in such a matter to act as a pile bunker, being held together by a few Powers while a band of Ophanim were using air currents to propell themselves further in reaching their destination.
Orphiel was coming.
Raguel was right behind his brother, carrying a block of torn asphalt with him till he moved forward and threw the chunk right at the knee of the monster. Empowered by his godly strength, the block collided against the kneecap and a row of kinetic force spells were triggered, unleashing miniature fields of concussive force with superheated mass. The knee croaked hard and it dented the plating in that area, exposing the blackened flesh and snapped the bones plus the burning effect had it nearly stumble.
The massive tails swung again at them but the Angels were much faster when their restraints were removed. The Angel of Presence twisted sideways and spun in a flurry of motions, producing strong air currents with jagged spikes of earth to swirl within them as a tunnel to protect his brethren from a secondary swing. Barriers were erected, some of the cars they carried were used as a tool to morph into sharpened shields with spears mounted upon them.
The extra limbs Orphiel had crafted flew like bullets, each bearing a chunk or a car between the fingers. With a snap of his fingers, those fists rained upon it and dropped their contents like a series of missiles heading straight for it. Raguel clasped his palms together, separated them and ignited the oil and gas in the cars to douse this menace in a sea of flames.
Those makeshift shields were lined together and a new formation was being set up.
Orphiel placed all of his strength into ramming the sword at the exposed joint, inserting the creature's own weapon into it's weakened leg and punched the pommel further to dig deeper. It was what they were waiting all along - the Powers and Ophanim that were following them each carried boulders and cars and lunged them forward like projectiles from each direction, focusing on the chinks and expelling seither to strengthen their attacks.
In that tiny gap did the Colossus bash it's head against the enemy, moving it's hair-like extension of concrete and rubble as if they were hands to stab the World Destroyer in the neck. It was enough to lessen it's grip on it's body, enabling the female-like juggernaut to knee it in the stomach and free one of it's hands to crack the teeth on the left mouth. Not letting it go for even a second, that construct regained it's footing upon stepping on the field and decked the damaged abomination in the left maw on the breasts, shoving it's fingers inside to try and find it's heart.
In a gargling, raspy and raucous pitch did the crowned leader scream for help. It was being pushed back, it needed time to regenerate all the damage it had sustained for it acknowledged their might and had no other choice than to punch it's way out. Spitting out the rocks and metal out of it's mouth, the damaged arm elbowed the Colossus in the shoulder, tearing down the whole area and left it hanging. It nearly separated the limb only to notice something truly horrendous had transpired.
The King Bahamut had flewn from above and Uriel dropped down while his flaming copies dispersed. He was gliding towards his prey, ready to crack it's skull with the magnanimous Deus Solaris hungering for it's blood. Upon executing the smallest swing did a tear in space form and travel like an arc into the scapula joint, cutting off the arm completely.
No sooner than that the limb fell lifeless down below. It splattered like a wave of blood, miasma oozed from the arteries in dyeing the streets pitch black. That fall had probably destroyed a whole area and likely stretched further but nowhere near the remaining layers of the barrier.
"NOW! Child of Man, fire!"
Still in control of his Bahamut form, Castor extended his jaws past their natural limit and expelled a wide-range Toxic Breath aimed at it's sinister eyes, bolstered by several pentacles aligning together in an overlay style to maximize it. The corrosive, malignant breath sprayed the Jabberwocky in a pool of acid but in the nick of time it blocked it by dislocating whatever remained of it's severed upper arm. It did it's best to move to minimize the damage, yet, it had dealt enough to puncture a shallow hole in it's defense.
The animalistic madness was driving the African soldier at the edge - it was taking over with his higher cognitive functions being stripped down bit by bit. He had to last a little longer, he needed to use it to the fullest capacity.
The flapping wings of leather and scales sent him ahead as he clenched both clawed arms and folded the wings. Stepping seals sprang underneath it's feet to place it in the right spot for multiple pentacles to solidify before it; the King Bahamut was relentless in it's charge, frenzied and demanding blood. He was charging another Toxic Breath on the go and the seals were multiplying it to enable ten similar attacks to be used right away.
The wings straightened and glimmered with a fiery light at the surface till that charge coursed through it's jaws and it was about to shoot.
Till four burning, almost dead hundred meter Bandersnatch spawns ran towards their brethren, pushing away anything in their path as their massive bodies held on to life despite it being nothing more than a dying candle in the darkness of the night.
Tremor after tremor followed as the very ground rumbled, seismic waves came in droves one by one. Their hulking bodies were almost burned completely, it was a single desperate motion to swipe their rotten hands in the air and shove any being away with the amount of air friction from their limbs.
One of them swung forward it's misshapen arm at the King Bahamut sluggishly, making contact with the vicious beast the instant it's Toxic Breath was fully charged - the Bahamut threw both hands above it's head and brought them down in a crescent swipe, dispersing it's seals and unloading it's unique attack into the fist while the other pentacles relocated at various areas in it's shoulder and spat the multiplied long range blast of corrosive, burning acid. Despite being flung backwards,
Castor roared in disgruntled, twisted snarl as if it were the maddening cackle of the damned. His pure white eyes shone with animalistic savagery and his draconic roar echoed to call for aid as he was falling.
It was done!
The acid burned right past the already brittle limb of several meters, it was eating it's way into the last layer of muscle fibers and stole every ounce of life remaining in it. Chemicals mixed with the undying flames to sporadically burst every vein, all of it was scorched down to the bones. Dead it was at last, falling underneath it's own weight by broken knees and fragile as a glass window.
Yet, three more remained.
One of them struck it's claws into the wrist of the biggest enemy on the field, twisted them and severed the hand about to tear out the heart of the Jabberwocky. At the cost of losing it's own fingers, that Bandersnatch accomplished one of it's tasks and fearlessly wrapped itself over the debris construct and held on admirably with unreal strength for a dying beast. The other two came together and wrapped their hands at the thrall, clenching their fists into dead flesh to lock the adversary in place and spread the flames over it.
Relentless, hellbent on keeping it at bay did they started to crush each other in the creation of a prison cell to hamper it's movement.
The Colossus struggled to break free from this trap. It's hands were blocked, held down by the gargantuan hellish spawns while the third one placed it's hand to wrap over the hair-like extensions in order to block their use. Dominions dove from above in a bid to free this brave creature who had came to aid them in their darkest hour.
Jabberwocky a few took steps to move past this menace and resumed it's charge against the barriers; the sword embedded into it's knee was absorbed and reshaped in a arm with debris and rubble aligned to make a wide knuckle with spikes. All four upper limbs were operational, the damage was healing despite the unstoppable barrage of souls coming at it's way. It was like swimming against an unstoppable tidal wave. No matter how much it was pushed back it only struggled further with each step it made.
In a dash it pounced forward and swung both tails during it's momentum against the barriers before it. Walls crumbled but stopped their advance; allowing for the Erelim to focus their strength as one and release a rather wide stream of light. That spot where it hit was obliterated completely - the tail was severed and lacerated as a second hail of metal followed and inserted itself in the wound as well as fanning out into sharp spines that tugged to the ground. For another moment they had pinned it successfully and bought more time.
Screams no beast could make broke out of every month in a high pitch. Monstrous and yet so familiar did it sound in spite of the nature of it's owner, a deafening and ugly grunt came next till it devolved to the cries of a newborn...
The remaining Bandersnatch drones aimed for the new layers of defense that stood in the way, each one preparing to tear open the last shield at their posts. Two or three knelt under their weight and tried to rip open the new layers till several Dominions crushed their fingers, broke the wrists and a Principality detonated hydrogen near their heads and where once stood monsters ... Now there were only a few burning corpses with no upper body. Only the winds carried away their chipping flesh turned to ashes.
Zechariah fluttered his wings to bring forth dense air currents and built a pressurized field where various metalic blades sprang into action. His divine armament was readied with a bolt of steel, inscribed with a specific symbol to bypass the anti-magic defense they had. "All forces form line! Fire at will!", he growled with his teeth grinding against each other as pressed the trigger of his crossbow and expelled the bolt in the chest of the Bandersnatch.
Gaining momentum at an unbelievable speed the arrow scattered as a rain of aluminium bolts that scraped the hide and then they exploded. Supercharged aluminum made a wonderful explosive and the added bonus of shrapnel only made it better. Air currents decapitated the titan, caved in it's massive chest and pushed it backwards to block the way. Volleys of light and elements damaged the first line and despite the odds tilted in their favor they were actually losing. A sea of souls swept the bodies past the barriers and raced towards the mangled Jabberwocky before their time would end.
They were winning. They were actually dealing gruesome wounds over older ones, they were halfway there so it was the very moment they needed to use to truly end this bout. Only if there wasn't the nasty truth being unveiled in a sickening manner.
Something else happened. Something horrible.
From within one of the Bandersnatch crawled out several winged Dreadnoughts with tendrils bearing jaws. In a split second they were upon the Angels, trying to kill as many as possible despite this futile attempt. Unlike before these were much smaller and bolstered a heightened coordination in a combination of combat skills and speed.
Many Fallen Angels were eradicated as they had been far too weak in comparison to their brothers and sisters. Blood sprayed over the ground as intestines and torn meat met the surface. Bodies littered the devastated landscape while the new squadron made it's way past the first row of combatants and leapt on the Powers and Ophanim.
Penemue was about to be eviscerated when a few Dreadnoughts lunged at her. She managed to decapitate a few but one of her wings was ripped from the back and another was cleaved in half. Desperately she slashed eyes and necks with her polearms of light, she was decked across the face and nearly lost her right arm if she hadn't used her poisonous light to drive them insane by the unimaginable amount of pain they delivered.
Others were not so lucky. Before she could react a talon broke her abdominal armor and sank in her stomach.
"...die...you fucker...", the blonde Watcher wheezed with blood dripping from her lips and stabbed her fingers in the Dreadnought's head, pulling out chunks of gray matter and churning the insides of it's skull. Her swift hand tore it's head off and she kicked the thrall to free herself.
A blast of fire headed straight for her. Another presence made itself clear to her when one of the seventy five meter Bandersnatch shot it's left hand to crush her and end her life. Far too close for her to escape, she had no mana left to cast a shield nor to form another weapon. Even running away wouldn't have saved her from imminent peril.
"Sister... move!", a shout brought her back to earth as she felt a hand pull her back with unnatural strength. Only a small flicker of light she saw as her savior kept her from harm's way at the last second.
Frazzled and stunned beyond words, Penemue saw the watery hands of Sauriel preventing the fist of the Bandersnatch from reaching her. The water user battled the monster with every ounce of strength left while his constructs sported teeth that sank in the skin and traveled inside, rupturing blood vessels and ravaging the muscles as if some meat grinder was grating it's soft tissue.
He twisted his neck to glance at her for the final time, reminiscing the times they were once proud defenders against the forces of darkness. That glint in his eyes told her so much more than mere words could. He was losing strength the more the Bandersnatch was trying to unfurl it's fingers. His power waned drastically and still... he stopped her from coming any closer. By a mere twich of his fingers a wall of ice barred her way to him - Sauriel focused whatever was left of his seither and converted it into a last resort weapon.
"...no, I'm not leaving you behind. Not this time!", Penemue darted forward despite her brother's protest, flapping her remaining eight wings to reach him faster. Blasts were covering her attack, she used her polearm and turned it into a chain to esnare Sauriel at the waist and reeled him backwards to her loving embrace.
A few small Dreadnoughts pounced at her, ignoring the Angels and shot their tentacled appendages in ripping holes in her black wings, shredding tendons and muscle fibers while their taint was burning the feathers completely. She screamed in madness when multiple polearms struck the mobile targets in various places and yet they moved further and smacked her across the legs, offset her balance and her wings were torn completely...
However, she did not give up. Withstanding pain, withstanding heat and falling like a shooting star, Penemue pulled Sauriel and gripped onto his frame as his attack triggered the separated hydrogen and oxygen to detonate and use pressure to utterly disfigure and kill the Bandersnatch! It lasted no more as it slumped backwards and crashed into another one far behind.
A sea of flames followed afterwards.
No longer able to sustain herself in the air, the Watcher tried to wrap herself over Sauriel to soften the fall, to save one who believed in her, one who had not given up for all of these years. There wasn't much left to do; the rest were fighting and there was no time to waste to save her. She positioned her frame in a way that would ensure he would survive, even at the cost of her own life.
One single thought drove her.
One motivation pushed her to her very limits as she was falling towards the ground.
"Forgive me for everything i have done..."
XXX
[~Celldweller – Jericho(Circle of Dust Remix)~]
"Hello, dear girl, it's me!", Walburga shouted as her long range bombardment pentacles relocated before her and shot forward several mana blasts straight for the levitating Xenovia. The flaxen blonde girl clapped her palms together, being held by her Saint Ira mannequin and separated her hands to the sides to cast two copies of a fire spell, igniting her fingertips and waved them before her face with a ghost of a smile plastered upon it.
"What the fuck are you!? Come!", Xenovia threw both of her Black Key handles and flipped backwards in the air, triggering the inscriptions on the metal to take effect. It was her standard trick; the blades inscribed with Sauriel and Orphiel on the steel shattered to create a barrier of water and a multitude of arrows, made from dirt anf dust as a secondary defense while she turned around and started her retreat.
The water wall met the mana blasts head on, colliding together and supressing a good amount of them but a few shots passed through with ease and darted at the fleeing Executor with substantial speed. The dirt arrows were her precaution because they were raining upon the Witch of the Dark at the very moment she tried to expell fire from her hands.
The initial attack was deflected, the arrows landed onto the Incineration Anthem mannequin which guarded it's other self with it's six wings, clasping together into a ball and crumbled the projectiles to dust.
Walburga mussed for a moment till she raised her voice a bit, "Unpredictable! That's what i am!", she commanded her tool to unfurl it's wings, giving her an opening to take aim and fire. "Two and two, I've come for you. Yeah! Can't sing, can't dance but I sure can romance. That's what i like and you ain't hip at all!"
Gliding, swerving in different angles to avoid getting killed by the mana blasts, Xenovia turned to the left and hid herself behind a tall building, trying to catch her breath. The wound on her biceps was aching, it was making her a bit dizzy but she had to persevere. The damned woman had every advantage over her in magic, knowledge and tools but she had a few tricks up her sleeve.
Raw mana blasts tore through the walls, breaking down walls and concrete upon the impact and the smoke and dust were lifted up in the air, making a smokescreen in the already shitty mist that made things harder. At least the lights from each attack were an indicator to help the Azure Priestess to anticipate from where she would be attacked. In that second she grabbed one of the falling pieces of concrete and a brick and threw the small block above her head and waited for the right moment.
Instantly it got shot down by the fiery blast of fire that Walburga threw at it and she hovered above that spot, readying her next blast out of nine remaining to fry the girl that irked her. But she was no fool, she had taken some precautions.
"Triplet Caster Magic!", muttered the cobalt haired Executor as three pentacles in blue, green and brown manifested on the roof below Walburga Dressler and activated three consecutive spells as one while she bounced off the wall and took aim herself, brick in hand for a deadly throw.
From the blue pentacle spears of ice were expelled like a machine gun while the green one produced a lesser version of Blessings of the Wind to craft several pressurized air blades. Each one was timed to fire off one after another - each blade spun and came from all sides in a circle, covering the space where she stood in a hard to dodge attack and the icy projectiles lunged at her from below.
It wasn't a bad combination if not a little standard but what to expect from a complete novice with barely two weeks of practice?
Yet, the blonde girl wasn't even frightened at all. Rather, she stilled herself and focused on a singular point in her field of vision and cocked a brow in bewilderment.
"Seriously? Frightening, little angry creature, you fight like an old woman that is no woman at all.", her voice sounded a bit husky and strained but the tinge of amusement wasn't missed. It made her feel alive, more than before as she clicked her teeth together and her other self swung it's executioner sword at the ice spears while she spoke up fast.
"Unwind, break and shatter."
In no less than a second did the air blades disappear. She knew that combination from the first glance, she herself knew the damn spells so it was easy to set up a Counter Spell to negate it. All the ice was melted but in that moment of silence that followed afterwards did the cobalt haired girl spring up and launched her counterattack...
The third pentacle of her spell had been delayed just for this single moment. Xenovia gathered all the strength she had in her legs, bounced off and levitated onto the pillar of concrete that shot out of the roof, propelling her ahead to clash with the enemy caster in a risky maneuver.
She jumped off the edge and hurled the brick she held with all of her strength in her undamaged hand moments before Incineration Anthem would have made mush out of her torso with it's spade. Dodging to the left, Xenovia spun around and instantly gripped two Black Keys from her thigh straps and channeled her mana through them to extend the blades.
"Mana Wall! Crush that bitch right now!", she angrily exclaimed and resumed her flight.
Walburga didn't expect her to resort to throwing bricks at her. She didn't have enough time to react as the brick flew right into her face and bashed her face head on, triggering the transferred preloaded spell on the brick to expand into a whole wall of mana and push her to the ground! It was simple yet fast enough to stun her, forcing Saint Ira to retaliate by spewing the violet flames with a white tint that composed it at the aggressor. It hugged it's other self in a protective shell, wrapping itself tightly to protect her from the devastating point blank spell.
A Black Key pursued her as it's inscription blazed to life; hands of earthly mass knitted from the hilt and started to punch the flaming form repeatedly even when it was futile. Those constructs could never hurt that thing since most types of magic and attacks merely phased past it's shape. Nonetheless, the same did not extend to it's accomodator for she was rather fleshy and fragile as any other human being is.
The witch was being pummeled as she was falling, her limbs breaking and snapping, her blood spraying out from any cut she sustained till she hit the roof and tumbled twice near the edge.
The second Black Key darted where the body stood, stabbing into it's head and spread out into a formation of earthly spikes to skewer the corpse and pin it down. The torso popped up like a bloody flower with chunks of broken ribs and flesh smearing the tips in a gruesome pile of meat and blood.
Xenovia didn't lower her guard at all.
Pulling out two more of the handles from her thigh straps, she channeled as much as she could to enlarge the two centimeter blades into their larger forms. Spinning around at the last second she hovered backwards as a massive halberd cleaved the rooftop on which she stood into two. Nearly having fallen prey to it's insane strength, the cobalt haired girl spontaneously crossed her arms to protect herself from any rubble that would have hit her as she moved to safety.
The shadows of three Dreadnoughts covered her as the first one tried to lift it's weapon while the other two were advancing straight for her in a set crash course. Charging ahead like juggernauts, the two Dreadnoughts jumped forward and rammed their massive bodies into the building, collapsing the whole structure in one go as the third one swung it's halberd to try and kill her.
"Fuck...fuck...fuck!", Xenovia swore in fear and hurriedly landed her feet onto the next building, lowering herself to step onto the roof and began to sprint towards the edge. The earlier fall had bruised her back badly, the slash on her biceps ached with pain and her eyes flashed with dread as she jumped in the air and activated her own hexagram seal to step upon.
"I really hate having bricks thrown at me, you know? It's not even funny.", Walburga's voice rang in her ears with it's deceptive calmness and charm alarming the other girl as she jumped. It was a bit annoyed, slightly aggravated but mostly curious in the way she directed her words towards her. She did like illusions for faking her death.
Right below the rooftop the Witch of the Dark calmly took aim at the fleeing woman and threw up a brick upwards at the moment Xenovia was about to land on the nearby building. She executed her throw with great accuracy and struck her in the lower back to cause her to tumble and nearly fall if it weren't for a second stepping seal to hurl her into the windows.
It hit her hard, near the spot she had fallen on earlier during her skirmish with that shadowy snake user. Pain laced her spine and she had nearly lost her footing if she didn't grip onto the windowsill and climb up inside where she fell in.
"It doesn't matter. I can be a bit late tonight. Eh, who cares?", the flaxen blonde girl waved her hand and multiple seals on the soles of her shoes lit up for her to jump and reach the windows. Two reverse pentagrams materialized within her gloved hands and she slapped the walls to induce a wave through the surface, causing the space she touched to melt and reform into an entrance.
She stepped forward and cocked a brow, "I actually expected more from the infamous Maiden of Durandal but where is your sword now, Quarta? You know, i just need to kill you and steal those fancy books you have. I wanted those for my collection.", she looked up and punched the ceiling above her.
The kitchen floor under Xenovia's feet sank in for the other girl to crawl out... Wasting no time she raised her arms to stab the witch with her blades but met resistance in the shape of a violet layer of flames that ignited over her visage like a cowl. The flames actually managed to melt the Black Keys this time around, forcing the Executor to drop them and turn tail further away from the hole the enemy crawled out.
Walburga pushed herself up with a heavy thud and her barrier reacted to the incoming kitchen utensils being hurled at her face. Kitchen knives, dishes, a whole toaster broke against her durable shield but offered enough time to let Xenovia escape. A few seconds, only a few seconds did it give her when the schizophrenic woman latched onto her ankle and pulled her back.
Xenovia's will to survive pushed her to twist her upper body and slam her fist right into Walburga's face, decking her across the nose and switched her shaky stance to ram her right leg into her stomach where her boot blade extended and slashed her combat suit. It wasn't enough to shred it since it was designed to withstand any knife slash but it did strike fear into the maddened girl as she was stunned by the pain racing through her body.
However, she was not one to easily give up on the task. Building up all of her strength, wrapping both her thin arms around the cobalt haired girl's chest, she rose up on one knee and pushed her violently into the nearby wall, pressing her tightly and sank her teeth into her neck... That insane strength of people with any schizophrenic disorders resurfaced from nowhere as the caster bashed Xenovia against the wall and wrapped one leg around her's.
"...don't... F-fuck with me...you bloody cocksucker!", the Azure Priestess bellowed in pain and suffering as she used her leg to push herself off the wall and wobbling she made it to the edge of the hole. Her forehead was bleeding, her neck had the bite marks with blood but her eyes held a burning fire in them. Using her elbow she nicked her in the ribs repeatedly, landing hit after hit to her torso until she tripped and fell through the hole. Moments before the whole kitchen was demolished by the punch of a Dreadnought and ripped off the infrastructure.
That fall had actually saved both of them. For better or worse, they rolled up in the makeshift corridor and the Executor groaned in pain when she sluggishly moved away from the other woman in an awkward footing. Her mind was already in disarray from the constant threat, it was making her ignore any strategy for the sake of running away if it meant a moment of rest.
It was a game of cat and mouse. But the cat simply turned out to be a tigress with a taste for violence.
"Spring, propel, bind.", spitting out the words through a cough Walburga launched herself like a cannonball and raised her fists together to dive down the corridor and reached out to grab Quarta by the long braided ponytail.
Having anticipated that move before it could happen, Xenovia opted to use a single Black Key and dropped it on the floor to make a wall between them. It was a slight distraction, she knew well but it was all she had given her lack of firepower.
Jumping down towards the ground she activated her grimoires to enable flight once more, executing a somersault in midair with two new blades extending from their handles. The wind blew past her when a Dreadnought sent it's massive halberd into the building, forcing her to use one of her last remaining spells if she were to survive. Only that mattered, only the single thought of making right by the people she loved meant anything to her now.
It was inescapable, it was a death trap from which she couldn't slide out unless she used one of her last buffs to avert her death and prolong the battle for as much as she could. Seconds felt like hours, things were like as if she saw herself in the third perspective and her body moved on pure instinct, ingrained experience and a will to survive.
"Negative Impact Shield!", only a tiny luster of purple flashed before the light died out and the building was no more.
Walburga was incoming. The wall didn't hold her long enough as she leapt after her in pursuit like an eagle after a helpless mouse.
"I keep coming back! All over your chest, neck and face! Mama, roast that bitch!", at her call did Saint Ira manifest behind her back instantaneously, armed and ready. It's wings spread out and her crucifix halo moved in front of her master, forming a combined long-range bombardment spell with the additional firepower of a Longinus Gear.
Multiple shots blasted off as if fired from a machine gun - each one as large as volleyball of pure flames, strong enough to even melt the armor of a Dreadnought. The barrage landed on the weakened caster below, hurling great amounts of strength and fire like napalm in eradicating the whole building from the floor she jumped off to the streets themselves. Debris, asphalt, concrete, cars and rubble followed her vicious onslaught in filling the misty air with dust and smoke. Not a single speck reached her.
Instead of waiting she wove another layer over her reverse pentagram, lined it before her main one and snapped her fingers to release a shockwave down the street without a single care if it would have damaged the Dreadnought before her. The wave ravaged the street and nearby buildings, littering the battlefield with rubble aplenty to use for a few attacks or so later. Terraforming the battlefield was one of the things she usually did as to provide herself with enough cover to cast something atrocious and disgusting.
Even the Dreadnoughts were shaken and off their feet by the seismic wave that rumbled the field. This sixth tier kinetic spell was certainly a favorite amongst many practitioners - if only it didn't ruin the spaces where it had been practiced it would have been more widespread amongst the novices.
"Come out, come out wherever you are?! I'm tired of playing hide and seek. Reminds me of my forceful institutionalization back in the asylum in Bremen...", Walburga's voice felt civil and hinted sadness whenever she thought about her time there. Her gleeful face lacked the radiance it displayed earlier, instead being replaced with a morose expression of resignation and suffering. "I'm tired of this... The voices in my head, the constant paranoia and mood swings. I'm not crazy... I don't want those disgusting pills or help.", she snorted and her mannequin shot upwards, away from the destroyed building.
For a second she glanced down and spotted a flash of metal before she impulsively rearranged her pentagram configuration into an inverted state, threw a granite ball out of her pocket into it and several fists of the used material rained onto that spot like droplets. Her eyes widened in surprise when the heavy clang of metal echoed back and bullets of ice came rushing upon her barrier. Vapor emanated from each spot as the projectiles melted upon contact, clouding her vision for a few good moments where Xenovia pounced at her from the misty smokescreen and used another brick to hurl at her alongside her second Black Key.
Fear and duty comingled together into a brazen charge of courage, springing forth a surprise when the blade met the brick.
Panicked, Walburga tried to raise a shield while her Longinus acted independently and tried to decapitate the assailant in one clean stroke. In a hurry while it was being formed, the brick crumbled into chunks as the blade carved it's way past the material, filling the barrier with foreign particles before it could have been completed. The blade was deflected back in the moment Xenovia left herself fall for a moment and then resumed hovering with the blade in her hand.
A single thrust she did, causing a disruption in the barrier that left her blade to sink inside. Since the crumbled brick was used at the moment of formation it left chinks where the barrier tried to close them around. Exactly where it was needed. Cold metal stabbed the blue eyed woman in the shoulder, yet sadly she twisted around and managed to redirect it at the last moment but it was a clean hit. It was really fast and Xenovia tried her best to sink her tool deeper until the other one responded in pure aggression.
Saint Ira swerved her spade over the caster's head and brought down her weapon while her multiple wings tried to slash the troublesome girl into ribbons. In the last moment did Xenovia bend and let go of her blade, right before the spade of flame would crush her skull and she fell back to accelerate her escape.
However, some of the wings managed to cut her on the left arm and into her ankle; her suit's shoulder area was completely melted and her boot barely held together but the heat seared her flesh and blistered.
In her rage, Walburga stepped off her mannequin and rammed her boot into her chest, activating the seals on the sole to act up and shot the Azure Priestess downwards before the witch pounced back and gripped her other self by the leg. The former swordswoman spat blood and saliva when she took on the full brunt of that stomp, barely breathing but losing strength.
The german girl watched in pain the falling Executor, grinding her teeth in agony due to acursed blade, lodged in her shoulder area. Blood dripped down her black combat suit in staining her arm in her own body fluid. She might have been crazy but she was no masochist. In fact she hated feeling pain the most aside from being strapped in a straightjacket like some animal. How much it brought her when she escaped the asylum and set the west wing on fire... This was comparable to it, for sure.
With a pull she removed the blade from her arm, teary eyed and bawling in misery as the sudden shock nearly made her buckle underneath the nauseating sense of her vision darkening. The blade she threw away in knowing it would have activated in mere seconds so she discarded it before any harm would befall her.
"You know what!? I will shit on your chest, you hear me!", her scream tore the air in filling it with maddened ramblings. The tears in her eyes only made her sinister smile twice as ugly and despicable to look at. Her whole face contorted in sick enjoyment but her tongue spoke of disturbing delights.
"No wait, scratch that. I'll have my sidekick shit on your chest and I'm gonna watch! This isn't an idle threat! You hear me!?", her voice rang in a high pitched tonality that matched the expression she wore. Nothing more than another twisted smirk and an insane gawk bore upon her adversary.
She whistled for a moment till another thought came to mind. "I forgot to take the hairpin and the books. It won't happen again.", and she dove after her once more before she would have dropped dead.
XXX
The Dreadnoughts had risen at this point and regained mobility despite the damage they sustained. Their 15 meter frames had been layered with dents and cracks but not enough to hinder their onslaught. In fact, these three were the few that had managed to last this long in a operable condition.
Between them was the witch who held the battered girl by the throat, having caught her in midair and sucker punched to weaken her resistance.
The insane strength her small body frame possessed made it hard to escape. Saint Ira stood behind her in a relaxed position, imitating her accomodator's facial expressions completely with her headpiece pulled back to show her fiery hair. After all, they were one and the same due to the cognition and piece of her host's fractured mind being imprinted onto her as a means to form a symbiotic bond and bind her completely to prevent escape. Even it's features were quite similar if not the same with her owner.
"I have a few questions I would like you to answer for me." she started slowly by applying pressure with her thumb over the black neck choker. At the spot where her teeth left marks on the skin. "What's the name of that ginger boy? I have been watching him for some time. In a good way.", she raised a brow and squinted her eyes.
Xenovia struggled to grasp any of her remaining weapons. Breathing was hard when the mad bitch held her by the throat and even the slightest mistake would have spelled her death. Be it by her Longinus, the hulking abominations near them or the flaxen blonde girl herself. She coughed once or twice before she placed her fingers onto her arm and tapped.
"My bad. They say i tend to get carried away.", Walburga slightly lessened her hold and allowed her to speak. On her guard she was for she had obviously taken several countermeasures against any possible attack of magical origin...and likely for any knife stab she might get.
"He's not...a ginger and...h-his name... is fuck you...", she spat out a wad of blood from her mouth. She would defy her till the very end and kill her when the chance arouse. It was all about the right timing.
Walburga nodded and tilted her head slightly.
"Not that funny. Have you ever stumbled upon a demon called Beroul? Pretty ugly, fat and with cancerous tissue for a body. Does it ring any bells, Maiden of Durandal?", when she mumbled that under her breath a cold gleam shone in her blueish eyes and a melancholy mask replaced her previous grimace. Her hand trembled from the wound on her shoulder but her lips twitched involuntary under the emotional duress of trying to continue on.
Her guard was up, her hand held one of the four remaining light blades that her unfortunate enemy carried on her person. The handle was thrown out so that her Gear could melt most of it's parts.
Xenovia barely nodded in agreement or perhaps it was to buy more time to find a weak spot. Her blood froze when the thin fingers of this sick girl moved to her cheek and pressed on it. Cold shivers ran upon her spine when her other hand started feeling up her thighs to reach her grimoires.
It didn't make things better when her fingers traced over her nether regions and traced circles. Fearful she still chose to answer the question with a lot of hesitation. "I have... heard of him before...he was last seen a year ago during a failed operation.", she muttered in a low voice in order to appear harmless. Not that it wasn't true with the way things were.
"I see.", she pulled out the first grimoire from it's holder and took a good look at it, meticulously analyzing it's authencity with her keen eyes. Her gaze darted warily towards Xenovia's feet, carefully observing each pained twich and spasm she did. "It seems that my final task is yet to be completed. Actually, i don't even want to do any of this... The voices... They keep pushing me to violence. I never wanted any of this, i didn't wish for things to go down that way...", she looked at her with no anger nor hatred.
Walburga murmured again as the look in her eyes spoke of disturbing realization. "There's no saving me. I don't want to go back. Strapped like an animal, having to live amongst the other nutjobs and taking those pills. But I don't want to stop either and nobody can save me this time. My mother Augusta is dead. Nobody would save me and maybe i don't deserve it."
By now she was vaguely aware of what was happening exactly but she didn't want to admit it out of shame and disgust. Even the reason for joining this particular siege she couldn't exactly pinpoint. A saddened tone of a sick girl who lost her mother in a humiliating act of betrayal. "I'm going to end up down there again. This time for sure...", she sighed and lamented as she held the book and shifted her focus onto the pages.
With one hand she was leafing the pages rapidly, skimming past it's contents as if searching for something specific. Xenovia grit her teeth again. It was hurting her, she couldn't try to escape yet as it was quite risky.
"Hm, this is interesting. It's the original one for sure.", Walburga's lips curled slightly and she kept looking at it. "Listen, I don't want to do this but I don't have a choice, really. But i will give you a fair chance so try to make good use o-
Her sentence was left unfinished when the halberd of the Dreadnought slammed really behind her back, smashing Saint Ira into the dirty asphalt. It was so sudden, it was unprovoked. They should be able to recognize what to attack and what not... Or they were supposed to be.
The grimoire fell off her hand and hit the ground, slipping out a white envelope nearby Xenovia's feet.
"Now! Fight back!", Xenovia teetered, ignoring all the pain, ignoring any sympathy and shame. Bringing out all of her strength to the surface she tightly gripped the hand that held her throat and swept her leg across Walburga's knee and tossed her! Quickly as possible she snatched her grimoire and envelope, sprinting like a rabid animal, running as if the damned were behind her.
The stunned witch tried to catch her breath, watching with dizzy eyes the other two Dreadnoughts with tendrils coming for her in a berserk rage. She heard the booming voice from afar, every word that would have felt impossible as it shouldn't have been able to speak resonated deep within her heart.
"Bloody hell... Time for a good old rush b. Wait for me! I still want to ask you how you did your hair!", she jumped back on her feet, activated her boot seals and jumped forward in a gigantic leap to put some distance between the plumage of hooks about to skewer her. "Mama! Help me! Right now!"
XXX
[~Fight Like Sin - Nightmare~]
Swerving to the left and hopping over one of the hooks the terrified woman visualized a pair of flaming jaws upon her hands, produced by mana and demonic sigils lit up on her neck and forehead in tainted light. Her speed, her strength doubled when she used her leg to brake her run and punched the air, shooting her flaming jaw constructs into the hooks, letting them travel towards the unexpected foe for the kill. Dashing away she leapt for a big jump and kept hopping ahead to gain more distance.
Incineration Anthem blazed back to life from underneath by melting the halberd as it pushed upwards it's fiery limbs and it's faux hair was ruffled when it's fire reignited. The empty sockets moved as if there was muscle in there, the twisted features formed a deranged grin and it unfurled all of it's wings. The doll of flames recreated it's executioner sword and mercilessly ripped apart the hand that tried to crush it, bypassing the physical constraints to deal a crippling blow that traveled further in the flesh and it lit up like a bonfire.
The dying Dreadnought slumped pitifully on it's melted joints and crumbled into bits and pieces. Veins were burst, black blood rushed out of the spreading gashes like a broken container. Scorched to death, burned beyond recognition before a single chortle could escape the back of it's throat. The flaming clone kicked the mass of flesh like a pile of trash and flew up, throwing her inverted cross from her back for a little trick it had developed by mimicking it's other self.
The crucifix stabbed the asphalt and split in two for a whole row of two meter spears of it's own mass to form with pentacles. The fires kept spreading like snakes in pursuit of their prey, terraforming the field to further enhance it's strength by multiplying the surface it covered. Anything flammable only added more firepower to the sickening memorial of the woman called Augusta Dressler.
Each one was layered in Latin scripture, each one was a devastating weapon on it's own but when such tools were combined with an independent, highly intelligent Gear that could cast magic on it's own it became a miniature, one time use makeshift Sacred Gear with a variety of effects.
A single wave of it's fingers commanded the weapon to unleash the salvo of enchanted spears upon the saurian beast - flying down like a rain of arrows, their tips dig deep into the 15 meter titan and passed through the dense armor and pierced flesh and bone. All pentacles broke to release the storm of various magics to ravage the foul monstrosity in a slew of ice, miasma, air and electricity, metal and sulfur. It stood no more in less than a second, there was only a deep crater and some dying flames here and there.
Not a single trace existed. Nothing remained.
The damaged abomination that Walburga had struck with her spell hastily turned it's attention to the violet creature with it's badly burned face. The singed and blistering frame still held together for a bit longer. One last charge did it offer only to amuse the sentient Gear long enough; it's wings were extinguished to conserve it's own strength but it did relegate some power into the cross halo levitating above it's head.
The halo found itself in her free hand, rotating like a buzz saw at the time the doll of flames simply tossed it with a casual swing of it's arm. It flew like a chakram and met the leg of the berserk creature as it rushed for the kill. Each individual segment disengaged with thin threads of fire and hammered into the chest, wrapping flaming razor wire into the durable body till it sprung back and tore apart the beast into uneven slices of meat, spraying black blood all over the place.
Saint Ira simply waved back as if saying goodbye to this pitiful foe in silence and taking in the joys of it's blistering corpse. No words did it exchange but what could be said to be a mixture of pity and sadness flashed upon it's visage. It did not fathom for why did it do such a thing despite being able of reasoning. Highly intelligent it was even if a mere simulacrum with a shared personality it was. Or perhaps it was something else entirely.
Instead of simply flying over to it's accomodator the doll merely extinguished it's entire body and faded out of sight. After all, it was where it's user would be so walking was out of the question.
The last flames consumed whatever was left of the fallen foes till the ash was spread by the small gusts of wind blowing the fog away.
Walburga was scouting the area as she went to check the nearby corners. In a hurry she simply blasted some of them to save time and effort but due to the fog it was harder to see so she tapped into the visual aspects of her sigils and her vision improved tremendously.
But the battle still was left unfinished.
Xenovia was giving her all in order to move faster, the booster drugs giving her enough strength and fortitude to enable more power to resurface. The grimoire she held tightly but the envelope she never crumpled since there was a small message written on it in ink. It was ordinary paper, yet it contained something extraordinary that could even the disparity in might. She had to kill her, no matter what because it might have meant the end of the Sacred Gear drones and it would have saved some lives if she could do that.
Anything else was trivial. Making sure Irina lived on to send a message to her beloved sister gave her hope and courage to go against such a foe.
Down to three light blades and two Black Keys, she was thinking on how to maximize her chances with a strategy that could catch the delusional girl coming after her off guard but nothing much came to mind. Her impulsiveness and schizophrenia made it possible to try and change her mind but at a serious risk she wouldn't take.
She bolted to the left and hid herself behind the corner, jumped off to the other side and quickly opened the envelope. Her grimoire slid back safely in it's holster and she gave a quick glance at the writing. Upon spotting the message in fancy handwriting a sense of hope and appreciation swam in her dread filled eyes. She could recognize that handwriting anywhere and to whom it belonged.
"Xenovia, congratulations on your discharge from the hospital. I'm glad to see you are doing well", Cardinal Domenico Giovanni greeted her with kindness a dazzling smile that seemed tired but magnanimous still even in his advanced age. The Italian man held a small bag with a flower pattern on it and handed it to the surprised girl in medical garbs. It felt a bit heavy but nothing she couldn't handle.
The amber eyed maiden took the bag with both hands and scrutinized it with weary eyes. She was still tired and needed a day or two of rest to get back in shape. She usually didn't take gifts but she couldn't help but ask what it was as she was shy to open it right away.
"What's this? Usually i don't get many presents so i was surprised.", she pushed her fingers inside the bag and traced the covers of two books.
The elderly man didn't change his expression at all. He casually cocked a brow in satisfaction and patted her shoulder with his weakened hand.
"A mere expression of my gratitude and I noticed you were reading quite a lot when you were awake. So i thought these might be to your liking... Even if i did have to use some help here or there to get them for you. I think they would be valuable assets in your hands."
She nodded and muttered a few words of gratitude. There was respect for the old warrior. A sense of kinship and affection in the way she smiled at him even if she were a mere ward in his service. The man had always treated her with kindness, with compassion and helped her in return for a few private tasks here and there.
"When you're in a tight spot you know what to do. These would have the necessary tools for your success. And a few surprises for when the time comes."
"Thanks, Cardinal. You always seem to have my back.", she coldly uttered as she took out the contents of the envelope and crushed the package. Rolling her sleeve up she placed what was inside and pressed it onto her skin.
In that envelope were custom made spell crests, a whole series of condensed magic sequences and script in the form of sticker tattoos for easy manufacturing and application. Some were small, others were bigger in size but the most important part was they could act in the same way of using what she did earlier with preloaded sequences safely in a larger quantity.
She threw the used up plastic, picked out another one in the shape of tribal wings and plastered them on her shoulder where the skin was scorched and swollen. The next one she applied on her neck, moving onto the others as she pressed some of the stickers on her weighted gloves and suit. A few were relegated to her feet and knees. A blade-like one she put on the back of her neck and hid it with her hood. But the last three she used on her breasts by unzipping the zipper underneath the plates and inserted them over her bare skin to form a triangular pentacle with two smaller ones in hexagrams.
The plating was tightened, the wounds stopped hurting her so she felt like she was in her best condition. She could move freely, unhindered by pain and dizziness when mana coursed in her arteries and muscles. A single rock she picked up and threw at the other corner, hitting the window of a shop on purpose to act as a distraction and to fool her foe with a cheap shot.
However, that was merely what she intended to do - make her come here in this narrow space where casting would be limited to mere physical buffs or small scale magic. It was risky, it could or would possibly kill her but the same applied to the vastly more experienced practitioner. Make her come closer, rob her of her casting skill and bring it down to physical combat was the goal in mind.
"Resorting to another cheap trick? Why don't you come out and talk, Maiden of Durandal?", Walburga's nasty chortle echoed from the distance. It was not enraged as expected but tamer and civil. The caster took out some chalk out of her pocket and knelt down, drawing a single line before her. "I'm an honest player. I could have killed you on spot but i didn't. If anything, i play by the rules so face me head on like they say you do."
No response followed.
"Fine... We're doing the old fashioned routine. I talk some bullshit, you counter me, we fight, one of us dies and then it all ends happy.", she bore a dull look on her face but seemed sarcastic. "I'll make it easier. I'll disable the nasty shit they hooked up all those people with if you come out and talk... Or maybe not. It's such a pity because i feel you would have understood what it's like to become something you are not..."
And thus she drew another line next to the previous one. More of them followed till it became a whole overlay that muted the area they were in. No noise, no echoes or rumbling could be heard.
"And it's done. Let's begin. Time to test my Mortal Kombat skills!"
With a stomp on the ground did the asphalt shift into waves of jagged teeth. The road split and dug into the buildings, breaking everything in it's path like some whirlwind to make a nice path for her to thread upon. Only the noise produced in this area could be heard. Nothing else. Only her cackle followed by the earth splitting apart were the sole cry on the battlefield.
Xenovia hovered above her previous spot, having escaped at the right time before the corner would have been blocked.
"Fuck it! Backup it is.", she grit her teeth and leapt from the ruined building towards the place where her opposition lied in wait.
Her levitating form stopped at the middle where she switched to crest stickers on her knees and feet to propel her beyond her natural capabilities. Her gloves lit up with single blue pentacle on each to deliver a heavy blow straight into the barrier that stood between her and the woman. It rumbled and distorted to the point of breaking down into motes of light, surprising the witch with a direct blow to the chest!
Now it was the time to fight back. The true battle had begun in an instant as the Azure Priestess regained her footing and spun on her heels to smack her across the legs and pulled out her light blade from her sleeve. A single swing she did but it was merely blocked by a stepping seal at the last second for the flaxen blondie to rise back on her feet, move for a feint and slap her across the face before she even managed to realize it.
Mana surged at her fingertips to make them heavy and durable for a few rapid punches at the shoulder and Xenovia's ribs, hitting her via the protective plating on the chest. A wad of blood dripped out of the cobalt haired girl's lips, however she endured the pain and stepped back to use her blade as a shield to protect herself from those vicious strikes.
In the blink of an eye the smirk returned. Instead of fumbling back, Walburga stepped on a seal and jumped up with a kick following afterwards. Her boot brushed away the light blade and forced the braided ponytail girl to switch to defense by a small barrier in one of her hands, effectively blocking a killing blow to the skull and pushed forward to throw her off.
"Triplet Caster Magic!", bellowed the witch in fury.
A triple pentagram of her own brand activated in black, teal and orange. Shadowy hands ruptured from the black one in pursuit of prey while the teal one brought forth thirty iron nails to impale the girl in the legs. The orange created a small flare that snaked over her ankle to stun her.
Light clashed with darkness, her barrier met with the hands them upwards while she ducked to avoid the needles. The impact was strong enough to offset her balance, just enough to allow the darkness user a chance to step up and rush her like a maddened bull in stampede. Next, she punched her at the side, grazing her barely but it hurt like hell. A tug on her left arm threw her up for the witch to ram her right leg into her stomach, land a blow and send her flying several meters away!
"This is more like it. But I'm still going to shit on your chest!"
She came afterwards, launching herself like a missile with the demonic sigils glowing intensely to further enhance her speed, reflexes and mostly physical strength. In no time did she use her fists to hammer on the small barrier, mixing kicks with grappling to aim for weak spots and then she managed to latch onto her arm and hurled her into the nearby wall as she gave no mercy and dashed to break her skull.
"Yeah, like how I'm gonna send you to the moon and back. One of these days, Walburga. Baam! Straight to the moon! Wouldn't that be hilarious?", the pummeled Executor groaned in frustration before she slid a few inches away from having her face caved in.
The blade in her hand swiped threateningly but to no avail - the Sacred Gear user held her own in a fight really well and her pain tolerance was something extraordinary even with a burning cut at the thigh. Sadly, it didn't sever her limb as intended but it did give an opening to exploit; by the use of a boot blade Xenovia nicked her in ankle and dropped her armament to grip her knees and throw her on the ground where she proceeded to pummel her with her enhanced fists across the face.
Instead of crying, Walburga smiled with a predatory, delusional gleam in her eyes. Laughing, chuckling despite being hit repeatedly. It was a mere tingle to her for she had experienced worse, yet, she didn't stop smiling nor laughing for the most part. Until she had enough...
About to break her nose did the last punch get blocked by being held at both sides for the wicked woman was a monster when she was determined. Both knees met with Xenovia's chin, extending into a neck lock where she felt her legs wrap around her tender skin and squeezed tightly for a choke.
Struggling for air she grabbed her buttocks and dug her fingers into the fabric till blood dyed them; yelping from being molested in such a way Walburga lessened her hold on her but kicked her head and crawled out of that pinch with her legs going for a merciless retaliation till they were blocked by a cross guard before the desperate fighter made a few steps back and turned to the other side to make a run for it.
"Blackened bone of a fiend, twist, devour and bind!", switching to Speed Chanting and altering the original fourth tier spell by separating it's sequence and shortening it to four lines gave the german woman an altered use of the magic. Namely to channel all of the demonic taint she had acquired to flow out and coat her wounds into a protective layer in order to stop the bleeding. The next phase of it granted her a twisted staff with a chain wrapped around the pommel with the dark element surging at the tips.
"There's a reason why they call me the Witch of the Dark. I'll show you!", she lunged at her again with the staff unbinding it's chain to esnare the blue one's wrist and reel her back.
"Then fucking stop, you crazy broad! This is pointless!"
Shocked, panicked and disturbed. Determined, crazy and tenacious. Those words described the former swordswoman now when she instinctively covered her face with her free hand to protect herself from what was incoming. Foolish, weak, ridiculous but with a purpose beyond mere human instinct - in the time the long staff reached her face the second blade lit up and blocked it. Another second passed until the chain was tugged on to shorten the distance, letting the freshly minted caster to respond with a spell of her own...
Her very own hood got ripped apart by the neck sticker exerting control over a deadly weapon she had not used so far. Who would have expected for long hair, a detriment that killed many in the history of combat to transform into a stabbing tool?
That long braid moved like a scorpion's tail due to the mana binding together hair follicles to make into something like a rhinoceros' horn. Keratin was a natural defense in the form of nails so her braid struck her neck in a rapid swipe to the point where her eyes blinked several times because of the shock and the tears blocking Walburga's vision. The chain link was still there as intended so a little tap on it sent a wave of mana to travel from link to link and transfer onto the sleeve.
Unlike before, the effect took place immediately when the sticker tattoo stopped glowing and ceased to function.
A single sentence escaped from her swollen lips. "Counter spells are something i adore. Even more when it is a mere third tier Fortification. That's where twist and devour kicks in."
Frazzled to no ends the other girl took up the chain and tried to break free from it's leeching metal links even if it meant having to sacrifice some protection.
"Hope you enjoy some rocky road or whatever they call that shit cause the earth seems to love you so it won't let you go!", said Xenovia with a sarcastic smile.
Abandoning all other tactics the fighter jumped in the air and reactivated her levitation to string along the cruel cultist for a quick field run on the wonderful ground; Xenovia spun Walburga in the air a few times and then stopped for this mentally insane beauty to feel some good asphalt burn when she slugged her on it. If it weren't for those disgusting sigils she would have been dead.
She should have been dead when Mana Wall crushed her but nothing seemed right - especially for the reason for Incineration Anthem's lack of presence.
The tired Executor turned off her weapon and managed to unwrap the chain but it left some scorched marks on her wrist and some of her combat suit had to part ways with her. Walburga didn't get up. So a single mana blast was generated at the palm of the defender and it was aimed at the girl lying on the ground to finish the job.
Until a fiery spade appeared in Xenovia's peripheral vision, coming at her side really fast as she only had a moment to draw back her hand and redirect it to try and deflect the weapon with her blast. White light emanated from the spot where it met the construct of fire and the area was bathed in a remarkable shine of magic, casting the fog and darkness away for a few good moments.
"Never leave your back open.", the german girl spoke up as she rose back on her feet and spun the staff in her hand. Enough damage had accumulated on her body where the skin was exposed in the form of scratches and marks with reddened skin and tiny rocks stuck in there. Any bleeding was stopped by the sigils empowering her body to heal faster. "You have no chance. I don't want to kill you... But if i don't do it he would kill me... Haven't you noticed by now what your friends are truly fighting?", she chimed in.
Saint Ira manifested close to Xenovia and engaged with her in a one sided battle. She only blocked and ran, deflected as much as she could and tried to survive at best. The mannequin changed her armaments into a spear and a machete, swinging and thrusting with both tools at it's disposal. It's halo dispersed and formed a pentacle for a blast of fire to spew out and destroy Xenovia's barrier.
Walburga simply watched as her counterpart did the dirty work for her and instead opted to part some words to the stubborn woman. Several barriers sprang up to shield her, she was readying to fight again but she didn't really want to do that. It was all a charade or lest something she didn't want would have happened to her. "No one can hear us now. Since I don't know how much time i have left I'll let you onto something."
Xenovia tried to stab her reignited blade into the doll's torso but nothing happened so she drew back and punched the ruined ground to unleash an earth based fourth tier spell to raise a few walls around the threatening mass of violet to slow it down. The ground shook and shaped into thick walls that clung to the violet monstrosity she turned her attention to it's owner, bolting to her side via the sticker tattoos on her legs. However a few of them stopped glowing and her total number of uses went down a bit.
Instead of defending herself, the pretty witch threw herself in the path of the charge, dug her left foot in the asphalt and redirected all of her barriers before her while her gloves started to glow with a dark light. "While I was falling down to Hell as the bastard tore my soul out of my body i saw some vision of what was to come.", her gaze darkened, her voice trembled from remembering the hellish torture Beroul had subjected her to. But she couldn't stop talking even as the demonic taint flowed out of her hands and started to envelop the perimeter. "The final battle between angel and demon. Man and beast. That woman... I saw the results of the assembly of the Gate... Destroy the Keys! Don't let those filthy monsters get their hands on them. Don't let in anymore of those...Or else...all the sacrifices we have made would have been for naught.", she spat and commanded the taint to morph into walls with hands and faces.
The reason why they called her the Witch of the Dark was because she had been touched by the darkness everyone felt as the demon cursed her and she was falling into the vast pitch blackness on the way. It contaminated her mind, drove her insane and imprinted the foul taint each demonic entity produced as her body was dying. The touch of a demon left those marks. Only did her mother save her at the cost of bearing that curse that killed her in less than two years. Her life was saved at the cost of another. Broken and to bear the guilt and agony till she died and the curse would bring her back to him, down there in the pits.
Xenovia only sped up the pace and ran her light blade across the walls that barred the way, cutting them down till she saw the enemy caster upclose bring her barriers on her fist and punch at her face. Her braid moved faster and wrapped over her wrist, letting the combatants meet in a fist fight where the Executor impaled her palm and kicked her in the knee at the cost of feeling her muscles strain and nearly rip underneath the heavy clash of barriers pushing her away. The collision flung her backwards and canceled out one of the protection stickers. But the rest provided enough durability to survive with barely a scratch on her.
At least her braid survived completely and scratched Walburga on the cheek, disabling the demonic sigil there.
The walls were breached easily. Saint Ira came back with a deadly swing.
"...Not bad... Just to get you motivated", she lunged again with claws of taint, swiping and slashing aimlessly, "I saw the Twilight Maiden in my vision. Seems like she plays a big part in all of this. It's not like they didn't fake her excommunication to set her on the path...The demons needed that Sacred Gear and it's user for something. Poor girl! She's dead already!", a sneer followed those words, fueled by delight and anger in one. A fast step did she make and nearly knocked down the stunned Executor with her staff as well as slash her shoulder with her sharp talons. "It's already here. They're fighting it. Kill the boy! Kill them all and get back at them for what they did! Mamaaaa!"
Saint Ira bulldozed the area, used her spear to nick Xenovia in the thigh and dug up asphalt and threw it at her back. Together both human and simulacrum jabbed at her, used feints and their limbs to wreck her badly in a rapid succession. Each hit chipped away at the barrier, each strike bruised and burned her protection. But Xenovia did not back down despite screaming, despite facing death.
The braid came back with a swing, slapping the lunatic across the cheek and then she took an elbow to the stomach since even her barriers couldn't last that long. Saint Ira had enough and drove her spear into the outgunned caster's leg and grasped her collar and lifted her in the air, and ran her through the edge of the corridor made earlier. On purpose it did not burn her as it enjoyed her screams and beating the shit out of her. The damned Gear sidestepped to allow it's master some fun and joy - Walburga whiplashed her staff over her chest and then added a few more strikes to her knees. And to finish her fun she stabbed her forearm and pinned her to the debris.
A few more jabs and a bloody elbow did the job.
"Envelop, bind, pin!", solid mass locked all four limbs to the chunk of earth, blocking escape and thus hammering her prey on the go. This called for some good old practice of the dark arts, some bloodshed and a few last moments of despair. If anything the mad witch wanted to make her feel what she had experienced, a part of her did feel pity and a sense of kinship with her for she had proven herself a true adversary even if a total amateur.
Sadly, the play would end. Any theatrics were thrown away to reveal the serious, reserved and crafty creature that wore the guise of a woman. Jaded, miserable, lonely in her struggle to find meaning and peace to snuff out the voices in her head. Cunning intelligence left untouched but enhanced instead.
She spoke up slowly as she glanced at the bleeding girl before her.
"You know, blue girl? You made a little crack at the big man upstairs earlier. Like he is the punchline but personally i think god is the ultimate comedian!", a small smile formed on her lips and she waved her hands in some bizarre set of motions. Swollen lips curled further, her brows scrunched up in a conceited manner that spoke of her futile realizations. An ugly, barbaric sight it was. That madness in her blue eyes, those hungry eyes for blood traced down to the chest. "I mean murder, war, racism, tsunamis... Another season of Family Guy for fucks sake!", three times she slashed her with her talons while cackling in a horrible laugh.
Xenovia bled. She yelped in pain, restrained like an animal. Not a word had she said even now. Cuts appeared on her suit, most of them superficial, till they reached the flesh underneath because of the shredded straps holding her chest plates together. The armored parts were being stripped off her and so were the crucible plates at her thighs, allowing the grimoires and the small bible to fall out beneath her feet.
"...we do that...ourselves... Blame it on people like you.", whispered the cobalt haired woman. "If only a conscience was a free... Pass, and not just a voice in your head... You pretend to listen in between unconscionable acts..."
"It's all madness out there, i tell you.", Walburga licked the blood off her talons and twitched in excitement.
Calm serious eyes shone with a depraved craving, wrathful in their gawk of bare flesh in bloody wounds. A brow she cocked as she readied her talons to drive another cut but this time it was going to be on the face already bruised and black and blue. A talon traced the cheek gently in a motherly touch as if she were a child.
The same way Augusta used to do that.
"But at least in the asylum we don't have to pretend it all makes sense!", the talon slowly scrapped her cheek down to the neck choker, letting the blood flow and drip on her neck. " I already told you enough. I gave you some help... Don't you get it? We're all puppets, Xenovia.", it was the first time she ever said her name with a nonchalant tone that shifted into pure adoration.
"But I'm just a puppet who finally saw the strings and now... I'm gonna cut them."
She wasn't done. The butterfly hairpin she removed and it found itself on her flaxen blonde hair. It was what the heart desired so it was taken. That last present from Asia that was given before she was taken back from Kuoh to be treated. Only that remained as a memento after the Devils took her, after that disgusting dragon didn't let her take her beloved sister and go home.
Xenovia's heart went cold. That was the one thing she didn't wish to part ways with for it represented her sister. It represented her as well because butterflies flew in a flock together. Regret, shame, guilt all went past her mind, yet, something else was in there.
For a second she nearly crouched to get her prize but remembered something really important. Something she had to do or things wouldn't end on a high note. "We're done here. And as for you. Before we all go down in sweet oblivion", a pause she took to stare at her intensely, "I'm gonna shit all over your chest. Oh wait, I'll bring my sidekick Hoody here and have him shit all over your chest. And I'm gonna watch!"
"Let's go home. I want to show these to papa. Do you like flowers? I can't help but marvel at their beauty."
As her staff was lifted above her head, some frustration showed when Xenovia did not even beg or plead to have her life spared. A good fight it was but not enough. Dangerous she was so no chances would be given. Death by blood loss was to finish this headstrong woman or it could be sped up. That's what Walburga Dressler thought. It annoyed her to no ends since if she were in that position she would have begged like never before.
A bitter knowing ghost of a smile curled at the edge of her thin lips and she decided to be a good girl and say a few words before killing her. It could have made it better. "It's puzzling how i talked so much. I expected some good banter or a few witty comebacks... Forgive me for this. I hold no resentment for you. In fact if i were right in the head we could have been friends. Such a pity."
"I miss your long hair, Xenovia. It used to be so pretty. But never change because I'd hate to see my sister turn into someone i would despise… but i love you regardless of that."
She turned around and spun on her heels, both eyes closed not to see how her victim would die, bringing down the bulky rod with all the strength she had. One single strike and it would be all over.
"...In...vic..tus...", the faintest whisper from nowhere slightly reverberated in her ears as a sing-song from the dead. A single tear met the open pages of the bigger book, right there where a peculiar blue butterfly was drawn in the center of a pentacle.
A dull light like that of a dying candle glowed from the bloodied neck, heading down to the chest where something was left undamaged, something that slipped past the bloodshot eyes of her tormentor.
"This isn't how it ends. Not today. Not tomorrow.We fight for what we have lost."
The Longinus felt agitated upon noticing what was happening - pushing away it's master before the rod would have landed on the skull of this pest, the doll threw it's spear into the source to finish the task itself. The smaller female didn't even understand what was happening. Only that her weapon got out of her palm for she must have dropped it when her companion pulled her away.
The rock crumbled... All restraints broke apart into dust, leaving the lone Executor to slump and fall with her hand reaching out to her grimoires, covered in her own blood. The spear was reverted to nothing. Crawling like a worm, pushing her wounded body closer and closer as her fingers latched onto her big grimoire and her blood permeated into the pages.
Incineration Anthem screeched like a cornered animal, dematerialized her armaments and instead brought out the cross from her back before her feet. It shifted, split into several barrels till it shaped into a big gatling gun with the halo separating to produce several inverted pentagrams in the air, reforming rubble into jagged arrow tips with additional fire covering each. Never before had it acted in such a way, intensifying the strength of it's flames till the shape became distorted in an ugly visage of dread.
[~Phantom Power Music – Overpowered(Extended Version)~]
The witch herself threw her hands forward, unleashing even more pentagrams with the sigil of Baphometh shaping in the center point, multiplying further to increase the number of ammunition at their disposal.
"Feuer! Feuer!", screaming at the top of her lungs in fright, a single wave of her finger initiated the huge array of spells at once to devastate the place further than she already did. Incineration Anthem made it's machine gun blaze to life in the form of bullets and arrows launching ahead, being followed by another volley and another. Numbering hundreds of course, each one deadly and fast.
"...A..si..a...for...give me..."
Time slowed down. It was becoming blurry, every single attack was moving excruciatingly slow in comparison to how it would have acted normally. The page was illuminated by a dark blue light as the pentacle started to scribble more scripture on it's surface, expanding and burning through the page as it faded away.
Portals began to appear out of nowhere, nesting themselves into the fabrics of space and time to swallow each projectile that came at her. More and more, each of varying size manifested as a tear in reality to meet the whole barrage head on and redirect it to somewhere else.
Time started to flow normally again as each blazing bullet from the Longinus Gear got swallowed, every volley met the portals and then shrank till new ones appeared to replace them like a shield. All the light was extinguished, all of the weapons faded inside the tears and closed up. Withstanding pain, enduring shame and putting every fiber of her being into this sole task, this final mission to end the wretch did Xenovia stand up on one knee, bleeding, crying tears of pain and anguish when her nerves were bombarded by another jolt of pain but she moved with everything she had in her.
"FUCK! KILL HER ALREADY! DO IT!", Walburga cried out in a despicable roar, fueled by her outrage.
Saint Ira rushed with her cross shifting into a war axe the size of a man in mindless rage while Walburga bombarded the area with a seventh tier spell of the elemental kind. Every step set fire to the field, regardless if things could burn or not as their nature was conceptual.
A flaming field of violet made it's way in reality, pushing away the fog and bathing the area in a sea of flames to where the eye could see. A prison, a cage it became for those fiery tongues spread further to encircle the sole human opposition in a trap that she couldn't escape if countermeasures were not taken.
Determination flared up in Xenovia's eyes, her stained face showed no other emotion than pure wrath that could have extinguished the flames if it were a physical thing. Something in the back of her head whispered to her, an impression, a compulsion she could not understand nor fight against. And then from her lips escaped the words she did not understand why she said or for what purpose other than saying them.
"Queen of Roses."
A single ripple formed behind her back, a hole big enough for a grown man to pass through. Blue flames fanned out as metalic arms of dark blue plating with rose petal blades on the gauntlets came out first. The chains wrapped around it snapped and faded back into the deep vastness of the pitch black hole in reality. Something was coming out of the portal and then the torso and mighty legs of plated armor came next.
Each one segmented and sleek, bearing not a single fault in their making. Tall as nearly 2,5 meters, it moved with grace and ready for battle with a heavy thud when the feet stepped on the heated soil.
It was modeled after a butterfly with a rose motif on some parts of it's being. Immaculate, imbalanced but beautiful and magnificent it was despite it's haunting frame. Atrocious and misaligned as if made in the pits of the infernal planes.
And then a helmet with a thin slit at where the eyes were supposed to be revealed itself to the world in those luminous, ethereal cyan eyes behind the visor.
The caster murmured as the final stickers on her chest activated to trigger Spirit Drive in the absence of two Holy Relics, covering Xenovia's body in a pattern of yellow, ghost like lines. Even without her Natural-born Holy Relic grace she felt the surge of power similar.
And then both woman and armor said.
"No one can stop death."
The caster uttered as the final stickers on her chest activated to trigger Spirit Drive in the absence of two Holy Relics, covering Xenovia's body in a pattern of yellow, ghost like lines.
Even without her Natural-born Holy Relic grace she felt the surge of power similar.
Xenovia sprinted like a wolf in pursuit of prey. She was like a bullet with the velocity she gaind, ghost-like afterimages were left behind each move she made till she kicked the dirt and moved in to intercept Walburga.
Sporadically miniature holes opened up for bladed chains to snake out like spears across the space Walburga occupied. It forced her to flip over to avoid any of them reaching her but she did not adjust as fast as she wanted to. Saint Ira had to rush back to save her owner from this reckless charge.
Both grimoires levitated near her, imparting their knowledge directly into her flesh for sigils of old to form. The stickers were directly linked to her books, enabling her to tap into their true power and keep the flames at bay.
Faster than ever before the braided caster swung her fists against Saint Ira's chest and followed up with a roundhouse kick with a spin. Her braid moved like a stinger when she sidestepped and nearly hit the flaxen blondie if the mannequin did not shield her.
Like a bullet she shot at her enemy, jumped in the air and hurled the teleported Black Key into the ground to use it's momentum to spin and deliver a heavy blow with her legs to the stunned witch. The thrown blade did not impale her but it used it's inscription to make a circle of metal swords around them and she pulled out one and tried to decapitate her.
The doll momentarily manifested before her master and used it's cross to shield her from the killing blow, deflected the cold metal and split her crucifix into two separate claymores. Unhindered by physical constraints, it swerved the first one and struck the physical weapon in the center, trying to melt it's soft steel core.
But that was the goal - the animated armor called Queen of Roses lunged at the sentient Gear and sank it's wrist blades into it's face, allowing Xenovia to slip past the Sacred Gear and latch onto Walburga. With a weapon in hand she resorted to using her kicks to offset her balance, swinging her sword to block the talon swipes of her foe.
Not standing still, Walburga replied with her own combo of kicks and quick jabs but they merely passed through her due to Spirit Drive making her an astral being for a few seconds. But there was a way around it; she bent backwards and crushed the soil beneath her, allowing her to make a nice fist of dirt to hold her at bay for an instant to charge mana to her fingers. Incineration Anthem's flames coated her knuckles and she delivered a few straight punches to negate Xenovia's Spirit Drive as they clashed with each other, stripped of most of their mana and stamina.
The doll and the armor themselves kept exchanging blow after blow with neither side dominating truly. Queen of Roses was somehow able to stand up to it's nature, the armor hacked at it with the gauntlet blades but achieved nothing. Until... It channeled blue hellfire flames into it's plating and both flames extinguished, reignited and kept fighting again and again. Konigin die Rozen resorted to it's chain manipulation via miniature portals to chain down the twisted Gear and send the same flames on each link to snuff it out.
Hundreds of small tears allowed silverish chains with a sharp blade at the end to snake around and pass through the mannequin like it was butter but when fire went up on each link did it force the doll to thrash mindlessly in order to slip out of their reach. It couldn't battle against time for it's flames were extinguished again and again with each touch as if they had never been ignited.
But it ignored that drawback, absorbed it's claymores and opted for spellcasting. From within a pentacle did it pull out an enchanted polearm and bashed the animated armor in the head.
Queen of Roses reacted on the go and delayed time around it for two seconds to shackle Xenovia and pull her out. Time flowed again just at the moment a hexagram with a dark tint sprang at the spot where she previously stood and decomposed the ground in one clean crater. If the armor had not reacted in time Xenovia would have been dead.
"...Mama...i need you...", Walburga cried out in a hallowed shriek as she felt the demonic sigils burning her skin. The effects of the area they were in had finally shown it's true capacity - to ward off, weaken and kill anything of a malicious and foul nature.
Not to mention Incineration Anthem was burning her by default because of the flowing taint reacting negatively with it's divine nature. Blood flowed from her orifices, mixing with tears and her muscles spasmed and her bones shook.
The Azure Priestess and her Queen of Roses dashed together as one, emanating the same ghostly glow from their eyes as their movement synchronized. Another Black Key did the sentient familiar pick up and wrapped it's handle in it's chains to cover it in flames. The battered woman stepped on a seal to go higher while the metal humanoid bulldozed straight into the screaming Gear and hacked into it's side.
Saint Ira whiplashed both arms and bent into an unnatural angle, allowing the winds to blow her flames away and she relocated above the armor and slammed her polearm across it's face and torso. Queen of Roses took the brunt of the attack, reversing time to undo the damage and warped behind Walburga with it's blades trying to cut her in half.
A whole circle of enchanted cards surrounded the witch, each one acting as a beacon to still the blades from slashing her. It left the armor open for the Gear to latch onto it and slap a card that corroded the metal. Several other cards stuck to it at the joints and began to eat the metal like a living creature.
All of the flames were reabsorbed into it's composite mass to recreate the multiple wing sets it had as a cover for the woman it protected.
From above came Xenovia with her stinger braid lunging for the kill. The braid hit the makeshift barrier while Queen of Roses undid the damage to it's frame and came from below - the sword met together and another one levitated, reacting together by fusing their materials from both angles into Walburga's left shoulder, nearly severing it if the caster didn't have one last trick up her sleeve. Elemental Resistance was a great multi-purpose spell of the fifth tier that required the user to be hurt by a weapon of the six elements within three minutes to release a backslash effect on the intended victim.
Another wound opened on Xenovia's shoulder as a result of the sneaky spell but she did not stop and kicked hard the immaterial effigy in the face to leave her boot sticker on it. Melting afterwards, the sticker utilized the effect of rebounding to actually make the doll stumble to uncover it's weakened host. It did make Xenovia stumble and scrape her legs but she thrust her braid and moved back to let the armor open up a portal and directly teleport a sword in Walburga's chest.
Or so it was supposed to happen...
"I... I always have one last trick...", the wounded blondie spat and held the sword that was supposed to kill her in her hand. "You had me worried right there for a moment... Ouch! Why you sting like a bitch!"
In her hand was a displacement card that saved her from the sword.
Incineration Anthem used some pyrokinetic warp to stand beside it's lookalike. It could still fight but it's owner was completely drained, tired and barely had strength to move but Xenovia was far worse. By now she would have been dead if the scripture didn't sustain her from bleeding out; her whole right arm lost it's sigils completely and she sluggishly held her biceps in aching pain.
Every chain snapped and reeled back inside the familiar while it's borrowed sword remained firmly within it's grip. Knowing it's master's intentions, Queen of Roses picked her up and threw her while it dashed ahead with a thunderous step, slowing down time for two seconds to swipe it's sword over Incineration Anthem and then displaced it to act as a feint for it's chest to open up as it grasped the intelligent Gear.
From the cavity Xenovia lopped off it's head and threw the heavy sword while she shot up.
"Now!"
Walburga put up everything into defense to erect several shields and a few spatial immunity buffs to negate the possible attack. That was her last spell as she used up her remaining mana to use a strong defense and she panted, wheezed for air as her body ached in unbearable pain. Saint Ira came around to reach out for her but the blue creature threw it out in a portal and closed it. With a snap of it's fingers Xenovia appeared from behind and ran her sword through Walburga's stomach but at the last second the mannequin returned and melted the sword before it could have done any damage to the barrier.
While weapons could not be teleported directly into her or near the space she occupied, Walburga was on her guard. Xenovia was out of breath. The only way she could even win was to bring down the barrier and hope for the best.
Queen of Roses teleported her in Walburga's peripheral vision while it dashed like a knight to swing it's chains over the barrier. Saint Ira used her polearm to deflect some of them at the cost of it being decayed and rusted upon contact. Walburga swerved backwards with her kick thrown at Xenovia's gut but the woman caught it and used her braid to restrain it. Having one last sticker on her fist she smudged it on Walburga's thigh and threw her upwards.
Warping above her did she stomp on her stomach with both legs and nailed her into the ground, making a crater where upon the landing. There was the final trick... A sword was already teleported there so it shredded the barrier in one place, snapped into pieces and one shard impaled near the spine and jutted out of her stomach when the cobalt haired girl kicked her abdomen to make the shard poke from her flesh.
Walburga screeched like a dying animal when she grasped the Azure Priestess by the legs and slammed her into the dirty ground really hard. Another shard was stabbed in her inner thighs where it hit a major artery. Walburga rose from her fall and slumped on her knees weakly with her life leaving her body fast. If there was anything left to do she picked up a knife from her pocket and raised her hand to stab the nearby girl in the spine. Dying, she put up everything in her last strike as her legs gave out and her vision darkened.
"...d...die...da..mn...it...", her voice lost it's power, too much had already happened for her to move on.
The defeated Executor watched in horror as she was about to be die but could not move an inch for she had no strength. Queen of Roses was still locked in combat with Saint Ira and there was no time to react as the doll went berserk and used casting to deny the mannequin the chance to save her. The last sigil died out on her and the attempt to crawl away was futile. Xenovia could only stare at the half-dead lunatic gleaming at her.
Until she saw red drip from her chest.
"...f-fuc...k... Thank... You..."
A bullet tore through her right breast. With the shield down there was nothing keeping her safe. The second one struck her abdomen where the shard was located. Another one passed through her lung and the final one left a gaping hole between her eyes, letting her lifeless body fall down for the last time.
"...Ah...ahhh...I'm... Alive...", Xenovia let out a bloody cough in realization she had survived by a small margin. Victory wasn't her's to claim as she did not kill the witch but someone else did. With her peripheral vision she saw a dark cloaked figure in the distance with a riffle in hand walking away from the roof one of an intact building.
She was in need of medical attention. Again.
Queen of Roses appeared at her side and helped her stand on her feet.
She saw the manifestation of Incineration Anthem loom over the dead body and it held it's fallen master in a warm embrace. It only looked at her with a serene, peaceful smile as it's features aligned to something soothing yet sad. Like a mother who had lost her only child. It glanced at her a final time and tried to say something yet not a single word could be heard.
Despite everything Xenovia was touched by this act of loyalty. In the end she felt pity for this miserable creature and noticed how much this moment reminded her of a child being caressed by it's loving mother. The only thing she imagined hearing were the simplest of words there were. The gear faded out of existence and debris crushed the body underneath.
Lingering flames wrote something.
Thank you
The Azure Priestess noticed an abandoned bike that seemed intact nearby a store a hundred meters past the battle site. She couldn't smile despite the wish to do so.
She only muttered, "...lucky day... Let's go save Irina...", and checked an opened application on her reinforced smartphone. It was a lovers app that allowed you to track the location of your cherished ones if they had the same installed.
Queen of Roses warped the distance to seat her on the bike it lifted up. A Black Key handle was jammed in the ignition and revved up the engine while the armor supported it's owner to drive it.
The best thing about Black Keys was that they were made from actual, rusted cellar keys and could act as the real deal. Someone from the blacksmith studio decided to name them that way after etching them in acid to blacken their handles and tiny blade. Or because the keys that were used were found had been covered in black paint.
"Hold...on... I'm coming to get you.", the bike started gaining speed and levitated after reaching forty five killometers on the gear block.
XXX
[~Ninja Tracks - Wildfire~]
13th September, Vatican City, Rome, Italy, 14:16 pm
"Nearing the rendezvous point, proceed with caution.", the Empusa of the Venetian Mask squadron muttered in a stern, low voice as the rest of the bizarre group marched under the protection of several Sacred Gear drones and atleast a few Dreadnoughts. At the very least there were some drones in a good condition but not that many left to execute another massive siege.
The rest of squadron carefully lined next to each other while looking around the perimeter for any threats. The Empusa had broken several barriers on the way and she was already on the move to break another one as to reach the intended destination. The very Vatican itself, rather the soil on which it stood. Still, there were pained grunts and snarls coming from the half-dead humans that clattered with their weapons ready for a sluggish charge. Things were going perfectly so far, more than initially believed but they had to make it a crushing defeat for the occupants of these corners of the world.
One of the taller warriors slightly adjusted his featureless mask and his muffled voice now sounded right. "It seems like it's deserted for some reason. By now i was expecting death throes and shouts from people dying yet i see not a single corpse around here. Something is definitely fucked up if the weak birdies ain't here to stop us. They were definitely scared by something freaky.", his tone was full of conceit and the way he carried himself was brash and haughty. It did strike him as odd, the whole situation and everything was fishy as hell to him. Even more for Belzeebub himself to appoint him as a part of this group.
Nonetheless, he ignored that and took a step forward. His hands waved a few times and a few serrated rings formed on his wrists. It was brief when light glimmered as the activation of a Sacred Gear finished as silently as possible. There were some Gears that were noisy and flashy but not this one.
Silvery steel shone brightly for a second, expanding further to clad his fingers into segmented talons with miniature ports in the upper layer like a cooling system. A small seamless piece of metal with a sharp edge covered the back of the hand and ended in a swirled tail that wrapped around the forearm. The rings coiled together like some clockwork mechanism underneath the palm and clasped tight on the wrists with a circular piece locking in place. A rather sleek and slim design with celestial inscriptions layered the metal in a series of formula that dimly lit up in a gunmetal silver coloration.
Another one murmured with a sarcastic tone and a willy smirk behind the mask. "If you got us lost again I will tear your spine out and make a hula skirt with your ribs, Costandinos. Last time you said you knew the way we found ourselves in the motherfucking fields of Athens!", the creature didn't favor the brash bloke with the Gear any more than the others but it did have to work together with this brute. Never mind his horrible sense of direction...
"Yeah, yeah, bite me. It's over there.", Costandinos brought both hands together in a square and aimed it at the building not so far away. It was 800 meters but good enough for him to test the barriers - his Sacred Gear spun the wheels inside and the ports expelled a thin line of smoke as an explosive round formed in the space between his finger, swirling and gaining speed as the reaction was becoming unstable and generated enough heat to melt steel beams.
Separating his fingertips away, he swerved them back and shot it like a projectile that moved like a beam of light. It crashed against the barrier and bounced back harmlessly, dealing no damage at all. After all it was a test shot with a small load of power as to determine the distance between the next barrier and their position. The more they ventured further the stronger and binding the barrier was, evidently by the squirming Empusa that had to be assisted.
As a demon she was feeling sick, weak and likely to bleed out if she got closer. Or she would be dead by a mere resonance effect as no entity of their kind could cross further than here.
Costandinos clapped his hands together and nudged the weakened Empusa in the shoulder. It wasn't quite friendly as he commanded her with some indifference in his voice if not dislike, "Bring down the barrier. I don't care if it would kill you. Just get it done so we could go home and have some ice cream. Or some good pussy for all i know. Shalba promised me hot bitches on my lap. Come on, folks! Help her out a bit. "
The Empusa and a few of the casters in the group raised their hands and started to work on the dismantling of the now visible barrier. Several pentacles of varying origins stamped on the protective layer and began to burn in order to fight against the elemental resistance it had. It would take several minutes to get it done but with the help of a few Dreadnoughts it would be faster. The said spawns brought up their halberds and hooks and began to tear into the layer with a lot of effort for it was one of the most fortified places on Earth. Sadly, the spawns had no anti-magic capacity so brute force was what they used to try and rip the multiple elemental and physical constraints that barred the path to victory.
Most of them were struggling to unbind even a single layer for it renewed itself faster than ever, growing stronger with each strike.
Of course, warping inside was attempted only to shred a mindless drone into a mass of flesh that was barely anything human after the first attempt.
The greek man was growing frustrated with the lack of progress and more so the absence of thrill and battle. He pushed a few to move ahead and slammed his fist on the ground, sending an explosive torrent to ride up on the foundation and make a huge tear before them. If dismantling wasn't possible then they would go beneath it, pass through the tunnel and move onto the next one.
The fog was a bit thick so they had to stay close to each other to avoid hitting anyone from the group. At least the momentary sparks from the barrier made sure they knew it was the right way.
"There. All done so get moving. We don't have all day for this crap. And don't forget to use lotion for your hands." he whimsically joked and left the rest to a short caster to shape the tunnel for them.
Still, he found it odd on why there were no celestials here. It was unnatural to him since he didn't take them as foolish as to leave such a post unattended, more so a place of this magnitude. There had to be an explanation, something else could have happened and it puzzled him as to what it could be.
The tunnel was ready and the squad mobilized to infiltrate while the Balance Breaker drones started moving in first to ensure there were no traps planted. The Empusa looked around as if searching for any possible source of disturbance without paying attention to the echoes from the various fields that battle was waged upon. She had her own reservations about this but she didn't voice them out lest she wanted to anger the greek brute and she didn't want that under no circumstances.
"Wait! There's something wr-
Before the Sacred Gear user could have reacted to her cry, taking a defensive stance under the cover of his comrades, he only saw the Empusa falling on her back lifelessly. His eyes widened as he noticed the high caliber bullet wound between her eyes just as the blood dripped out of her head. The mask was completely shattered and it's pieces cut her face in a few spots.
Multiple barriers were erected instantly while the Sacred Gear thralls were enraged further at the slightest instance, triggering an order in their minds to line up and defend the group. Various flying drones shot shards at random to kill anything hiding, the shadow snake user commanded his snakes to spread out and devour everything in darkness while the Dreadnoughts acted up on instinct and placed their hands to act as a shield for the group.
The most vocal one raised his voice enough to be heard well and said, "Show yourself, fools. I shall grant you a good death by the hands of a hero. Painless and merciful i guarantee it would be.", he charged a new blast within his right palm while his left one was creating something like a metal club to appear in it. A club not so different from the one the Nemean Lion was slain with. He was a bit distraught over the death of that Empusa for she wasn't so bad but not enough for him to care. "Come and face the one they call Heracles for you stand against a warrior."
"No, he speaks only for himself. Don't show up, i ain't dying like this fucker.", the creature that complained earlier took off it's mask and revealed it's face. Purely black pits where eyes would have been gaped while the remainder looked completely human. It was a Shadow Demon using a human body after it's rise as a demon in the pits. "I'm merely here for the loot! Take him instead! Just don't kill me."
Heracles growled in annoyance at this pest but refrained from acting on the insults it threw at him.
"Fuck this. We're falling back, i repeat, abort the mission. We're not risking our lives for this.", Instead he made a nod to fall back and slowly retraced his steps under the protection of the massive spawns. He didn't want to waste their lives for a mere chance to fight. They could fight another day for all he knew.
Multiple gunshots followed as a response, bouncing off the armor of some drones, scraping others and outright bringing down several in a hail of bullets. But it didn't stop the mindless humans to rush ahead and disperse for a blitzkrieg assault. The pack was irritated, confused like a bee hive under an assault. A few dared to break formation and actually got closer, so close as to bump in the barrier.
A leonine Gear user thrashed her claws against it with nothing but primal aggression filling her completely. Her bleeding legs made her slip on the puddle left by something else and for some reason she didn't fall as a hand grabbed her. It was a bit hard to see what was ahead but one thing was certain - the thrall was pulled up and a Browning handgun pressed on her forehead, sending a single bullet in her skull.
A large ripple tore space to act as a door for several figures to emerge from the portal. From within that spot jumped out Arthur Pendragon with Kuroka by his side as his vanguard, followed by the Kasha Stray Devil and the Oni one with it's massive studded club ready. The other four Strays appeared from behind, guarding Le Fay Pendragon as she casted a third tier ice spell to drop glaciers.
Large constructs of ice made a fence that left some small gaps as a door with a single message behind it. Go past the ice and you will die. Simple as that it was.
And finally from the mist emerged a middle aged man in his fifties with graying temples and a well kept beard. Polite as always, wearing his iconic brown trench coat and fedora hat he offered a grandfatherly smile to the stunned Heracles, "Good day, ladies and gentlemen. Allow us to join your little soire if you would be kind.", and in that instant Arthur Halle Mason drew his cane sword and decapitated a female drone that tried to bypass the barrier and sent her head flying from the sheer strength of his swing.
"Forgive me for my bad manners. They don't show in the presence of a distasteful company."
In a split second did the cane disappear and in it's place now resided an assault rifle. The firearm was pointed at the ringleader of the group a fleeting moment before the thralls would be upon them. Yet, the Irish bartender merely responded with a casual flick of his hat and parted a few words. "Just to mention this fact but i have quite the peculiar shtick you should know before we clash. Leave now and live. Stay here and face your destiny.", a second firearm found it's way in his other hand out of nowhere. His brown eyes bore down upon the rest as he looked down at his feet and spat the words out after a pause.
"...Because I really hate fake heroes."
The first to attack was Heracles, who hurled an explosive projectile from his Gear in signaling the start of the siege.
Every soldier on his side mobilized with elemental weapons singing for blood, running alongside the thralls that followed them in a blitzkrieg assault to overwhelme them with their numerical advantage and superior firepower.
"Slaughter it is then. Ladies and gentlemen?", the Irishman mussed as let out a sigh and waved a finger to open a portal, stopping the blast from reaching them.
It was as if the drones had been waiting for this chance to lash out - multiple ones shot diamond shards from their wings, backed up by several elemental Gears working in sync to bring out a set of combinations of varying elements. The ones who could move faster leapt for a charge with their varied weapons, armors and altered bodies in no set formation other than that of some swarming horde at each side.
Arthur Pendragon unsheathed his swords and started sprinting alongside his female companion who whipped out her batton to intercept the horde of deranged, bloodthirsty men and women in a reckless charge. Kuroka was much faster than him so she used the opportunity to drop the brown stone for a little trick; spiked earthly mass rose like a bridge on which she pulled the blonde man to go along and jump above the remnants of the makeshift army.
Sylvia, the Oni Stray and the Fairy Stray Devil followed right behind them with a multitude of honeycomb barriers to deflect the incoming blasts via Fae and human magic merging together. The leader of the Stray Devils, the black haired Kasha carried Le Fay Pendragon on his back as he transformed in his five meter feline form during his initial sprint, letting the short magician ride him as a steed. The last two Strays acted as the gunners of the team with long range bombardment magic taking place at the front, using the shields as a guiding point.
Arcane blasts bombarded Kuroka and Pendragon as they clashed head on with the first drones in what appeared to be a less than ten seconds. Shards came from above, mixed in with the explosive feathers that some of the enemies held in the form of rain. In doing so did Kuroka pull the young Arthur to her side and called out her support for help.
"Shields, ready! Hold on tight!", she practically threw her crush at the hideous swarm with no hesitation since the physical barriers of Sylvia moved over them and shattered the green shards while the arcane ones stopped the rest at the cost of running out of mana.
Excalibur Ruler and Caliburn clashed against the first opponent in a parry that made the Brit flip his right hand sword in a downward swipe to leave a gash at the child's legs, then used it's momentum to spin and drive Caliburn into it's stomach before the dual halcyons of cold metal could have reached him. Kuroka nicked it in the neck with the sharp tip and brought her leg up to kick off it's torso to fly back into the horde.
Kuroka used her glove talons to shred the neck of an elderly woman with an anti-magic axe moments before she would have taken a blow to the head, picked the axe at the last second and threw it backwards to split the skull of an armor type Gear user. Nullifying his kinetic absorption and redirection ability, the bakeneko decked the dead man in the knees and used his torso as a meat shield to take on the shards coming her way. But the problem was the heavy firepower which would have killed them where they stood.
Salvos of air, darkness, fire, light and other various types set off one after another. Torn asphalt swerved in the air by the thunderous throws of the Dreadnoughts coming rapidly fast at their direction.
Sir Mason shot at the barrage meticulously with prcise aim, hitting the debris with a bullet each as tears in reality opened and swallowed the attacks as fast as they were made. He blasted heads and limbs as he moved with grace and finesse no matter how many came at his way. Offering lead and steel as a gift the Irish swordsman paused and flicked his shotgun to expell the emptied cartridge. It was completely spent so he smacked a feline Gear user with braids right in the teeth and then used his riffle to riddle her with bullets.
"A generous gift from your's truly. Savor it fully, my dear." several portals opened above him and spat out the earlier barrage back at the damned bastards with a dose of love and care. Many fell down, crippled and impaled on their own tools while others died from the merciless assault of redirected elements.
Fay and the Kasha rode together in an unnatural unison where she ejected long needles from her pentacles and smacked anyone who tried to get near her with the very same willow stick Wescott used to punish her with. The Kasha tore legs and ripped ribs with ease by the use of it's teeth and claws. As a corpse eater he grew stronger each time his lips tasted fresh blood.
A chained spear flew at her from the back, however she wasn't so fast to dodge it or to make a ward to break it. Kasha ducked low and threw her off, taking the intended blow in the shoulder in order to save her. Hooks sank in his flesh to lock on tight and a second one stabbed his other arm - two of the casters from the masked legion hovered from both sides and tugged on the chains to break his arms as he bravely protected the little caster from harm.
His screams echoed in Fay's ears, terrifying her further when she hugged into him for protection despite her inability to move away. The metal was dipped in holy water so it burned his skin like acid, letting his blood dye her golden locks in vivid red. A third spear impaled him in the leg and multiple thralls crept upon them in a bid to end them. Those empty, dead eyes reminded her of Wescott - the same terror she experienced came back in full swing. She despised her with a passion.
A battle cry snapped her out of her paralysis for she saw the Oni brandish his club against the skull of the caster on the right while Sylvia lopped off the head of the other one. It was up to Fay to save this creature for she knew she could do something about it. Gathering her strength she cried out at the top of her lungs in high pitch, wrathful as a scorned goddess for her very own Guardian to manifest.
[Fenris Wolf Priestess! Equip!]
A corona of light emanated from her body, bright as the stars as her frame was engulfed by splendor and light.
A dark wolf hide adorned her altered frame of a twenty year old woman, aged to complete maturity to channel better her learned ability to summon beings as a normal Summoner. The wolf lent her it's claws and fangs, her legs grew sharp clawed fingers and her back bore the pelt of a god slaying wolf. The eyes became animalistic the same way her canines lengthened and she wore Gleipnir as chainmail on her now generous chest. Some of the chain went over her arms to act as a flail but the greatest change was her mentality, overrun by the summon's beastial instincts. She was beautiful and vile, perfectly matching the features of the Atago ship girl for she was like the real deal.
[~Robert Slump - Nucleus~]
Tearing out the spears from the Kasha's shoulders she drove them in the monstrous Sacred Gear minions, making their thoracic cages swell and she lifted them in the air so she could execute a titanic hurl and pierce a few more that attacked her brother. Fay was gone now. In her flesh resided Fenrir and it hungered for blood.
She let loose a despicable grow and started to tear apart all that she saw in a predatory lust. Combining her magical prowess with Fenrir's claws made it easy to pop skulls like balloons with the additional reflexes granting her extraordinary leaping capacity.
The first to face her wrath was a middle aged man who struck against her elbow, shattering his warhammer and only pissed her off tremendously for she slid her fingers and ripped his heart out of his chest. She threw the bloody organ in the open maw of the Kasha to help him regain his strength but the corpse she used as a stick to bash the opposition badly.
Her attention was shifted to the Dreadnoughts that were going to crush Kuroka. No matter how fast and nimble she was without the use of her spatial manipulation within the perimeter she had to compensate by constantly moving and deflecting attacks on the go. Never mind the fact that those with demonic taint in them were rapidly weakening and their blood boiling with each second passing.
With a beastial screech she called for the Kasha - that heart he ate healed his wounds enough to sprint and pick her up by biting on her arm and flipped her on his back in one swing. Fay's arms shook in both directions, shooting the Gleipnir chains to strike two thralls in the skull and the jaw and when she flung them in the air they knocked down a few of their kind. The Kasha landed it's paws in the face of petite girl and crushed her, sinking his teeth in her neck to feast upon her corpse and he threw it aside into the pack.
Her flails dug up chunks of pavement and bashed skulls left and right till she lept using her enhanced legs onto a winged Gear user. In no time Fenrir's claws dug up the base of the appendages and she ripped them out in a bloody mess. The severed shard wings flew like throwing knives into the back of a thrall that was about to bifurcate her brother, giving Kuroka the cue to flip him in the air for Fay to switch places with him and tear off the face of a female drone alongside it's neck.
Pendragon disappeared in a small rift before anything could reach him.
"...you look... Good?", Kuroka murmured in a weird tone, stabbing her batton in the stomach of a man and moved back to avoid his claws, thus giving an opening for the blonde girl to crack his skull with her claw and rotate him to use as a meat shield.
Ignoring her question, the British girl pounced forward in berserk rage. She was like a nuclear warhead, her path of collision was hard to change at this point for she jumped off from body to body till she reached Heracles and swung her chain at him to esnare. But he wasn't going to let her get the upper hand. He caught it in midair and tugged on it wildly to bring her closer, having charged a strong round to blast her head off. He knew she had a time limit so he had to wear her down.
Shooting an explosive pellet at point blank, Heracles lifted his club and slammed hard at wherever he could see. His speed and strength were enhanced by the use of his combat suit so it gave him a better chance to compete with this monstrous girl. Yet, he spotted her inhuman eyes from the smoke, her smouldering hide was undamaged and she was intact for the assault that would begin. Only that it enraged Fenrir further and the equipped Guardian moved his Summoner in predatory steps to get behind the man and swipe her claws at his back to sever his spine.
In the blink of an eye the situation changed. A halberd blocked her killing blow and the nearby Dreadnought dug up the ground on which she stood and casted it away in the air alongside the female. Heracles smirked and prepared several explosive bolts and took aim at her, "Never underestimate a Greek man, little girl cause it stings badly. Die, you traitor!" and he unleashed a whole chain of explosions upon her before she could have landed safely.
Fay took the assault head on, colliding with each bolt despite the excruciating pain overriding her senses. Not being able to fight back she curled at the last moment and hit a building till she was nowhere in sight.
The rest of the masked legion continuously charged mana for a variety of spells that bolstered each other under the protection of the meat shields. Each one was an experienced practitioner with a specialized skill or two to the point where they were able to turn the tide of the battle in a flash.
A few Dreadnoughts demolished the nearby buildings and grasped chunks of it to make a wall for the casters to use Wall of Stone. A sturdy, versatile defense was erected instantly as to keep the British beast at bay for a few moments since she came back with a vengeance.
The six Strays huddled close to each other to avoid being overrun, fighting bravely against all odds. Not long would they last if some intervention did not happen for the thralls kept coming despite how many they put down.
"...such confidence at the start... I knew it was a death trap, old man! You clearly overestimated my capabilities...", Kuroka drawled in a mixture of annoyance and fear. She knew better than this, she wanted to believe the old bartender wholeheartedly but it all seemed like empty words. Where was that power she had bore witness to before? So she knelt and placed all five colored stones to use her Wu Xing to cast a transmutation spell using the Chinese elements of nature.
Of course, she needed time to do that and she didn't have much left. She watched as Fay fought so courageously against the drones, trying to dispel the protective wall that separated them from the legion. And in her heart doubt grew and festered like worms in a piece of meat. There were still too many left, too strong they were and it showed. Nevermind the titanic figures that guarded it. In her peripheral vision she saw a ripple enlarging and a manly figure patted her shoulder with a gentle touch as she was about to be overrun.
"You passed the test. Despite your doubts you came here to save others.", Arthur Halle Mason's voice rang in her ears like a soothing melody. He had seemingly vanished but he was here beside her. Two new firearms she noticed as the first thing in her field of vision. "Now it's time for things to get real... He's really going to chide me for straining myself but blasting a bloody hole in that bloke's head is going to nourish my heart for days to come.", he firmly stated and in the blink of an eye hundreds of miniature holes leading to the unknown opened behind him.
[Hellfire Chains of Doom]
He softly muttered and flicked his hands down for sharp chains of ethereal silvery steel to poke from the windows in space. Bright bluish flames danced across the surface of each link as they snaked in the air like a swarm of serpents.
Moving faster than the human eye, each one pierced and ensnared the remnants of the horde and dragged them into the portals in a flash. As if jaws, they mowed and snapped in the presence of the pitiful humans, devouring their tarnished flesh while they had been dead already. Since the moment the hellfire flames of the Other Side had doused them, their very existence was erased despite their bodies remaining in the material world. Organs, bone, cartilage, entrails seeped in a disgusting mass of misaligned bodily remains when the holes shifted into nonexistence. Blood splashed the surface alongside the pool of limbs and guts that mixed together in a bunch.
Not a single Sacred Gear user was left. Some would have considered it a merciful kill as they didn't experience pain, rather this display was done to horrify the enemies behind the wall.
Arthur Halle Mason tipped his hat and shot at the wall only once to craft a large tear in space. He considered this to be a less beautiful artistic expression, but it was art, it was a craft. Le Fay instantly growled in fright and turned back to sneer in a grimace of predatory hunger. Her limit was nearly reached so she had to hurry if she wanted to bash the greek guy's skull.
One of the Dreadnoughts appeared in front of them, acting strangely unlike it's peers. Kuroka fearfully tried to move back but the Irishman stopped where she stood. It's halberd stabbed the ground and left a deep gash in the earth to swallow several users between earthly mass. In a single click the bladed tool minced the poor killing machines after the first wave and sprinted like a cheetah to tear apart the wall.
Arthur pointed at the berserk creature; on it's neck sat Pendragon with Excalibur Ruler jammed in the softer tissue to enslave the saurian spawn to his whims. They had a plan all along, it was merely a test to see if they really had conviction. He did need some help, after all. He was a man and he was in need of back up as every other combatant did so. Fighting in a pack was his preference, so were excessively brutal showcases of his artful craft.
"...Bloody hell...", the bakeneko swore under her breath, lined her stones anew and began to work on the spell that would thwart most of the pests that would come this way. She nearly vomited at the sight of the gruesome mass of mutilated bodies but reigned it in. She had to finish her spell - to transmute any enemy into a pile of dust and make any attack into a defensive ward to further strengthen the barriers. "Why didn't you just throw them in a volcano from the start! We could have avoided this easily!", she raised her voice to a menacing pitch and her eyes were surely rolling if the urge to puke didn't stop her from finishing her rant.
"It's to send a message. It's all about how you present it.", the older man quipped and signaled for Pendragon to proceed.
The enslaved Dreadnought made a hole in the barricade, big enough for a grenade to easily slide in and take it down. Arthur Pendragon screamed, "Go! Tear the wall and beat their scrawny asses, mate! Sister, you know what to do...", he commanded the rabid animal in his sister to climb up inside while his creature bludgeoned the obstruction further as a means to draw attention.
Nobody was that stupid to jump over and get in some surprise attack or a nasty trap. It was the fear that mattered - striking dread and terror moments before they would die. Tearing down their hopes one by one, crushing their morale and breaking their spirits. That was their priority and goal. A few hostages to interrogate would be a luxury to have.
"I...i can't hold out... any longer...", Kuroka fell to her knees and gripped her chest in burning pain. No matter how well made her suit was it could protect her only to this point. The place was practically eating at her vitality and lowering her control tremendously. Only one thing did it mean - if she remained for a minute longer she would have lost her focus on expelling the taint that was released by her Evil Piece. The only reason the failsafe mechanism to prevent escape from the King of each peerage lest it would induce the dreadful mutations and further corruption would kick in immediately. They had to be linked and in close proximity to the King Connector Piece to avoid the disgusting penalties on their bodies.
To keep being herself, Kuroka had to constantly use her Omnyoudo Arts to relegate and discharge the taint from building up at all times. That was the sole reason she didn't turn out like other runaway slaves but at the cost of hampering her abilities and slowly wearing her mental health.
It was already taking control over her mind, she had to get out fast or she would have lost control completely. With pleading eyes, such eyes that bore the deep sense of regret and longing she turned to the bearded man and tried to speak up but could not. They were in the middle of the battlefield, at constant danger of surprise attacks so they didn't have much time to waste.
The other six Strays were in the same position.
Arthur responded by kindly opening a portal beneath her feet in which she sank in while she gazed at him with worried eyes. Not for his safety or because of care but rather out of duty and puzzlement. She clearly wondered if the promise and choices he offered her would truly be kept but at this point she chose to ignore that and try to calm down as she could till she disappeared.
The other six did so as well, leaving a middle aged Irish gentleman, a quirky British man and an even bigger British weirdo in the likes of Le Fay.
Three against a whole legion. That was just about right.
He teleported right on the enslaved Dreadnought's shoulder and took aim at random, knowing that his bullet would reach the target either way.
Fay crawled inside and met Heracles who sucker punched her in the face with a charged blast from his Gear. His clawed fingers grasped her cheeks and he slammed her on the ground in an insane swing, backed up by his tremendous strength. He released the shot and the spot was covered in dust and rubble from the blast, casting a temporary smokescreen while the Dreadnoughts acted on command and tore the wall to use against Pendragon's mount. At least one did bring it's fist down to try and kill Fay but it nearly crushed Costandinos if he didn't run away and leap to safety.
The several troops of the masked legion teamed up with several bindings and defenses via fourth tier Reflection and several Pillars of Decimation to act as a mobile fortress as long as they were near each other.
That Dreadnought was pushing harder and harder it's armored fist but it was feeling something offering a unimaginable resistance despite the sufficient strength to break the dense layering of a submarine or a several centimeters thick wall. Growls of wrath escaped the spot where the spawn kept bashing it's fist, each time feeling claws digging in it's digits. For it's final swing to snuff out the creature below, the saurian product of the Annihilation Maker gave it's all to land the blow only to be pushed back by a bloodied Fay/Fenrir blocking it with both hands. All covered in red, bearing some gashes on the parts that the hide did not protect and with smoke emitting from her frame did she rose up by sheer madness and jumped back, bouncing off the wall and climbed over it's lodged arm.
The casters of the group tried to shoot her down but she was unrelenting. A true monster of a Summoner she was when she tapped further into Fenrir's strength and gouged out one of the eyes of the big creature, moving constantly and tearing the hardened plates with superhuman speed. Several of those came undone, falling as if snowflakes to the point where the flesh was ripe with deep cuts down to the bone. In the next few moments she took a bite of it's face and slashed her claws against the surface to reach the skull and with a punch she cracked it!
The wound was deadly. It was right on the mark and it stunned the creature, letting it fall motionless as she leapt after the white masked individuals in a berserk charge, swinging her flails to strike at a long distance.
Heracles actually caught up to her and dodged the Gleipnir chains, moving in her blind spot and kicked her in the spine and slapped both hands on her head, releasing several times the amount of explosive rounds than before. Downed, Fay let loose a snarl of the ugliest kind when she tried to wrestle the bastard and flip him over but in that moment did he stab a miniature dagger in her shoulder near the armpit as it was not as protected as the rest.
The Gleipnir chain moved faster in intercepting the blade with it's links, locked it in place and snapped in two. However, Heracles was a tricky man who loved to charge random objects with his Gear to make wonderful bombs...
That dagger flashed in a bluish light and bathed the whole area in white illumination. Long enough to allow him to blind her and grab her chainmail with the same intention of making some beautiful blondie girl fireworks on the go. Fenrir wouldn't allow that; dragging back it's host, Fenrir barely avoided the dark haired fucker from touching his host and spun on it's heels to deliver a straight kick on the jaw of Heracles, feeling that satisfying sound of something bony cracking.
Sadly, it didn't last long when in the final moment Heracles curled and entangled Fay's leg from below and tossed her against his comrades. His jaw was still there due to a fourth tier Shock Absorption spell he had casted before all of this had even begun. Having competency in the arcane was a mandatory practice for every soldier, be it the lowest grunt or a leader, since each one was taught plenty of skills to be able to compete against foes far more powerful than them.
Pillars of Decimation activated right away and various elemental limbs hammered and kicked the stunned girl while those with a preference for physical combat jumped at the chance to beat her with conjured weapons. The more she was sustaining damage and trying to react the more their combined spell push her away between the layers, exerting such pressure as if it were a vice grip. The only reason they could push her back was because of their teamwork and great coordination with an advanced mastery of the arcane. One of them, a man managed to get his palm on her face and left a blue mark that made her worst nightmare reality. At the cost of losing three fingers and a part of his palm.
She lost what little control was there left and her link to Fenrir was disconnected, forcibly breaking the alternative Invocation style to strip her of her Wolf Priestess form. Le Fay hit the ground several meters away from the group and tried to crawl up but not fast enough since Heracles showed up from behind and lifted her by the hem of her ensemble. The change to her regular form had yet to occurre so Heracles used that moment of panic and threw his supercharged fist into her face.
Moments before her skull would be caved in, Fay instinctively thrashed her hands around and actually stabbed him in the left eye with her willow stick, redirecting the fierce blow by kicking him in the stomach and pushing his hand past her shoulder as if she tried to hug him. This sole act saved her life but instead of giving into the maddening pain and blood drenching his mouth, the man punched her in the face and kicked her in the stomach, threw her off him and moved in to kill her.
Fay tried to run but he was much faster, stronger and uglier than she was. Despite trying to recall any spell that could help her escape, her mind was in a frenzy and she forgot which one to use. Inexperienced as she was in actually fighting her own battles she resorted to using the scattered rocks nearby and threw them at him to no avail till he blazed past her and landed his boot in her lower back to bring her down. He tossed the willow stick aside and pressed his leg on her spine and grasped her head.
A small curved like a claw knife that resembled an eagle's talon twirled in his between his digits, supercharged and about to explode. This was merely a precaution in case she tried to punch him.
"Brother, help me! Help!", she cried out in fear as she was about to die. Every inch of her rather pretty face contorted in a sickening grimace of terror, desperation and her eyes widened in shock as she realized that fact. Physically, this older form of her's could never compete with a man such as Costandinos without any enhancement.
Struggling to get back on her feet, she was forced to kiss the asphalt as a final act of humiliation. Yet, she wouldn't go down without a fight. Someone had to keep her brother safe from the stupid things they had a preference for doing.
"You will die. So shut up!"
XXX
[~Colossal Trailer Music – Parallel Proximity~]
The Dreadnought under Arthur's control moved it's fist sluggishly, bearing a deep laceration in one shoulder that raced till the waist. The other arm was torn completely so he commanded the beast to jab them with the stump, spraying blood as to temporarily blind one and allow the older Arthur to use his riffle, empty a whole clip in one spot and leave a small mark. This was the right spot - from inside a portal started to expand and close in minimal intervals, shaving off organs and meat like a grinder without it ever showing on the outside.
Pendragon forced the saurian creature to step back but it suffered the thundering impact of a halberd upon it's stomach, letting out black miasma to exit the wound and spill. The bespectacled swordsman used Excalibur Ruler to open a tear in space and hopped in, switching to another Dreadnought to control. His sword was embedded in the nape when he jumped inside the space between the neck and back plating, relying on the creature's hidden eyes behind the carapace to navigate.
Sir Mason disappeared for a second, popped back in existence and used a warp hole to shoot out a steel beam inside the chest of a plumage bearing titan. The construction tool cleanly penetrated the plating and locked in place so fast as to make mush out of it's heart. Downed and dying, the byproduct of the Annihilation Maker gave under it's weight and fell on the ground.
Arthur turned his attention to the blonde one, whistled and pointed at where Le Fay was. "I'll handle this, boy. Go save your sister. I'll hold them off for as long as i can...", his brown eyes darkened in an ominous gaze but his expression was starting to show signs of exhaustion and strain. His chest throbbed painfully with an increasing intensity but he had to deal with it. Letting out a sigh of worry and being out of breath, the older gentleman looked at the various cuts on his calloused palm and wrist. "Where the hell are you, Doctor? Who's going to yell at me for not looking after myself?"
He retraced both firearms into his spatial armory and opted for help. Said help came in a rather distasteful way when four portals opened and something grasped a Dreadnought by the limbs. Ugly, black as death and sinewy hands as if the flesh had been parted down to the bone sank their fingers in the durable shins. Something odd wrapped itself on the arms with teeth eating the organic defense and pulling apart the tendons. Helplessly the beast struggled to fight back, only to die without putting much of a fight.
Several more forced their way between the layers of existence and soon it turned into a feast. The beings on the other side were efficient, never surfacing beyond the boundaries and their true nature never seen.
Without sparing a single glance did he turn to the first caster and coldly uttered the words, "You have come here to die. It was your choice so don't regret it."
XXX
Heracles grated with his husky voice until something caught his attention. Arthur Pendragon he saw with his peripheral vision and quickly reacted before he would have been cut down by Caliburn. He ignored Fay and dodged an overhead blow, spinning to the side and brandished a few throwing knives between his fingers for a spontaneous throw.
All of them went off in one go, forcing Arthur to change his angle and swat one or two but the other three reached him and penetrated the gaps in his bicep and shoulder plating, lodging the cold metal deep into the muscle. Not as expected as much more of a common trick, those knives were laced with the blood of an Auralne demon so they caused a heavy chemical burn that was weakening his limb if not so much as to necrotize the flesh in a minute or two.
Arthur lost his momentum and his damaged hand nearly dropped Excalibur Ruler if he didn't lash out in the last second and nearly lopped off Costandinos's ear. Yet, the greek giant didn't have a good footing or the full use of his vision, leaving a gap at his left side due to his damaged eye. So the swordsman threw Caliburn at him like a rock.
Heracles swerved at the last minute, effectively dodging the incoming blade while he offset a small blast in the ground since Arthur ran up to him and tried to use a riposte on him. By a hair's length Heracles threw his arm in a suicidal move, grinding the sword with his gauntlet to change it's trajectory. Sacrificing his pauldron and bearing the wound of the sword biting into his shoulder, he grew ferocious. In that tiny gap he curled his other fist and hit the knives, driving them deeper plus he used his elbow to put some distance between them when he knocked the wind out of him.
By mere touch the knives exploded and ripped off Arthur's arm in a controlled blast. Their charge was rather low like that of a standard firecracker but it tore his arm easily. If the poison wouldn't finish the job then this would be a great way to enact punishment on traitors.
Everything went blank. The agony caused the British man to fall, blackening his vision and losing any footing or any control over his body. Auralne blood had the properties of a muscle relaxant to make their prey unable to offer resistance. It was spreading rapidly, it would kill him once it reached the heart.
There he lay defeated, barely breathing but one thought drove him, keeping his consciousness alert. One wish, one desire kept him alive long enough to pick up Excalibur Ruler with his remaining hand. To save the meaning of his life, his purpose and duty.
To save his own flesh and blood. To deliver Fay to safety.
Heracles roared and clasped his palms together, generating a bolt strong enough to raze the area in a sixty meter radius. He had enough, this was their duel so he had to finish it. Man to man. Soldier to soldier. Avenger to Mercenary. It was ready to go off over Arthur's head in less than a second. This was the ending, the ebb tide of their clash.
Instead, he spat blood from his mouth and looked at his stomach. An accentuated broadsword was poking out of his flesh and went in further. In less than a few moments the blade was twisted to deal more damage as the sword guard hit his back, lodged completely.
Right behind him was the seemingly helpless magician holding Caliburn's grip in hand. It shouldn't have been possible to teleport weapons, he had a few sigils to protect him from spatial manipulation and time effects on him. How she did this eluded him since she didn't seem like she had any means in bypassing the inability to directly insert weapons in his body via spatial manipulation. He couldn't get thrown in a volcano by an enemy teleporter nor his body aged to death for as long as he had those sigils on.
"...H...ow...how? Me...rcy...please...", he uttered as he lost strength.
It was simple. In the moment before he would have landed the final blow time had frozen for five seconds to the rest of the world. Sir Mason teleported Caliburn in her hand and moved her to a different spot, letting her deal that final blow. The way it was done prevented Heracles from noticing due to an illusionary spell of the third tier called Masked Sight distorting her figure till the right time had came.
Excalibur Ruler was shanked in his throat as Arthur gave his final act of willpower to save his sister, slipping his hand upon the pommel as he lost consciousness. Fay screamed and dove to her brother's embrace, letting Heracles fall on his knees as she cradled her loved one's head to her chest. Both fragment and Caliburn resided in the enemy's flesh, keeping him from reaching them as his Gear deactivated and he spent his final moments in a last ditch effort to drop a transparent container with his shaky hands, his blurred vision and cold taking a hold of his body.
Struggling to breathe he cracked the container with the last embers of might he could muster and his dead eye darted to his company with a silent command being spoken. His lips didn't move at all but his intentions were clear. In that small moment he felt like he had accomplished something, a warrior's death and closed his eye for the last time before he parted ways with the world of the living.
The container's contents spread out in a dark mist of pitch black and the deepest shades of violet, circling around the squad where several marker sigils lit up. Like a beacon, the sigils attracted the mist and enveloped them. They had staved off the old gunslinger long enough without losing that many on their side and as he was about to gun down one of theirs the mist vanished as if spirited away. They did lose quite the number, still.
Their escape route was made possible when a Bandersnatch was seen in the distance. Of course, the miasma it poured ate at some of the barriers several blocks away, weakening the sturdy defenses to enable magic-fueled warps. But no more than the previous levels, beyond this perimeter it meant nothing. As for that reason these soldiers couldn't have gone too far beyond the city's perimeters. Dimension Lost could be contained in flasks for situations like this one. In fact, it was a really handy transportation device.
Nobody tried to retrieve Heracles. He was considered a loss and they did think of what was best for the group as he had wanted them to do. Each one would have done the same thing so there was something far more than their individual lives. A cause worth fighting for, a cause worth giving everything till the last drop of blood.
Fighting against Le Fay was dangerous since the mark one of them left wore off. Not just because she was taught on how to become a Summoner. Any pure human being could learn the art with enough study and practice but not everyone could call upon the highest of powers. Another reason she was feared wasn't because she could use that ability every human being had. It was because she was the same as her brother. A Natural-born Holy Relic wielder who could utilize Caliburn's actual properties with ease. Nobody wanted to bother fighting that.
Fay cried out in anguish, holding her brother close to her heart with her bitter tears staining his half-mask and cheeks. The look in her eyes changed entirely but her face did not make a single twitch. Swollen cheeks flushed with red and eyes full of regret pressed upon Arthur's forehead as she kissed it and wailed in a defeated, soul crushing tonality of death.
A part of her was lost due to her carelessness and weakness. A liability, a dead weight to always be shielded by her brother. That's how she felt all this time. As a nuisance to the rest. When he was gone she would be alone. Such thoughts crushed her spirit and made her cry harder than before. From within her mind came the idea to bind him as a familiar or to call upon a demon to restore his body back to life but she couldn't do either of those.
"...pl...pl-please... Please... Save him. I-i don't have an...any...left...", those clear blue eyes searched for any straws to grasp at. Nothing else mattered for as long as she had her brother. She would have damned herself if it meant he would be with her, there was always a price when it came to most magics. Not too costly for her. "I'll give... Ev-evv...ry... Give me hope. Save him, i beg of you!", she pleaded passionately in her sorrow. The melodic voice with a crisp Yorkshire accent devolved into a trembling, weak whisper of a broken heart.
"Very well. My wife would have said the same thing if it came to our child...", Arthur Halle Mason's voice echoed alongside the tap of his cane in a melodious timbre of respect and empathy. However, a deeply repressed grief emerged to the surface of his mind in staining his gentle, manly baritone in a conflicted, lost in memories voice of compassion. As he looked at her he couldn't help but reminisce of his wife Beatrice and his very own daughter. Both lost to him and dead. "I made a promise and i will keep it. In honor of my beloved wife as she would have wanted me to do this for you."
He knelt above Pendragon and placed his hand on his chest, holding Fay's palm for support while she watched in fear. Time was a fickle thing - full of possibilities and so much more. Far too hard to understand completely and with many different interpretations to it's making. Turning back time on a small scale the immobile body resumed it's previous state with the missing arm shaping completely. First came the bones, then tissue knitted and vessels and skin appeared. Blood started rushing back to flush his cheeks with a pinkish hue and his heart began to beat. A pulse was felt by Le Fay while she cradled her older brother as to never let go. He was restored to life in the exact same he was before all of the warmth of his body would have disappeared as the invisible marks on his lips faded.
They were like burn marks, left upon the near departure of a life. Those were the sign of an Angel coming to take him away. What felt like hours was a nanosecond in real time.
It was merely a simple time reversal. It wasn't a resurrection for that required more time to set up.
The blonde man opened his eyes and he swore like never before. A rather unexpected reaction from someone who should have been dead. Most were terrified, scared to death enough to die again but Arthur was different. He was considered an oddball and truly one of the weirdest specimen human kind had to offer. He pulled away the gunmetal half-mask with teeth from his face and gloated. " Bloody hell! That was like the weirdest trip of my life and i want another ride. Oh, i'm alive?! Yeah! Suck it, greek boy! Wait...what's tha-
Dead carcass greeted him in an unsavory display of cruelty. All were massacred by steel beams being teleported directly into their organs. Some were eaten alive if the bite marks were to be considered. Like monuments the corpses stood with no life, stone hard armor chipped and battered in many places. Eye sockets full of steel bits and maws hammered with nails gawked at the ground below. Lined up in a row these creatures were left as a memorial, bursting and twisting in various angles that would kill any living being till their cavities popped and they resembled a macabre garden of flesh made roses with intestines wrapped on them, misaligned limbs at places that they shouldn't be, and crushed joints and bones that decorated them in a hallowed body, crooked and bent in the shape of a flower...
"Well then... We didn't get all of them but we do have a hostage to interrogate. I'll preserve the body and we need to stop that thing over there", the older Arthur rose up, tapping his cane on the dirty asphalt with a cigarette in his mouth. He didn't look disturbed at all for it was one of many battlefields he had fought on. Far too many if he had to count. His gentle smile didn't fade away but his eyes were empty and anguished. Too much was he reminded of Beatrice.
The Annihilation Maker scared him truly. Even if he knew it personally from a different time and a different life. A different day and a different death but it was not this day. No, they would win the fight and go home to get drunk. "This is just the beginning, it's the first death that always clings to you... Hmm, until you kill enough that you stop caring much."
And in that instant Fay puked upon gazing at the same flowers she had bore witness to last time. Her brother felt pity despite the death these abominations caused. He may have killed people but never to such an extent. If it weren't for the fact of them being half-dead or mindless it was highly doubtful he would have been alive against such numbers alone. His reddened eyes widened as he leaned to the other side and convulsed.
"...fuck...fuck... This is goddamn insane. Not even Vali is this savage...", Pendragon took a deep breath and continued. And he churned out the entirety of his breakfast with some pause between his vomiting. And again.
Arthur Halle Mason patiently waited for them to finish their work; he didn't mind this reaction for it was natural.
He just scrunched his brows and scrutinized his new art pieces for any defects or mistakes when twisting the space near the Dreadnoughts.
A deep inhale he took from his cigarette, calming his aching body and mind before he turned to the siblings. "Ruler might have a chance to enslave that behemoth if we can get close enough. I've tried it so many times before. It's risky and death is certain half the time i did if we don't take precautions. I apologize but i can't do that now... I feel my heart aching so give me a minute. And i know you're trying to stab me from behind so don't waste your time. I might be getting older but senile i am not. I'm merely 52 for God's sake."
Pendragon grit his teeth in foreboding dread as he backed down and decided it would be another time. Another place, another day when he would kill the bartender and then run off with his sister. If he could have believed he was capable of doing so. Or...he could have actually attempted to suppress his insecurities and fear for the greater good. If siding with these people meant finding the one who put Elaine in a coma then he would take it. Joining the Khaos Brigade was merely the start. Ensuring reality's continued existence in the battle against the spawns of Beast and the genuine article was a mere bonus.
"I get the feeling I'm not going to like this at all... You say it's fifty-fifty. Ain't risking it again.", he shot a glance at the dead body. He never wished for his sister to experience this, however, he knew it had to happen. Be it sooner or later didn't change the result. He hugged his sister dearly in a warm embrace and placed his head on her generous bosom. "I'm sorry for making you save my ass all the time. But damn did your tits get so big... Way bigger than Wescott ever could dream of."
"This is just temporary and this is not the time for this... We have work to do." quipped Le Fay Pendragon. "And one more thing...", she paused to take a deap breath, "Arthur Pennyworth, you mad son of a bitch! You got me worried about you for a moment there. You fuckin lost an arm and kicked the bucket! Be more serious, you bloody ass cunt!", she slapped him hard on both cheeks and hugged him again.
Whenever she mentioned their real surname Arthur flinched for it was the fact of his sister being mad at him. That came with a lot of hard play with the willow stick on his back. Fay Pennyworth was her legal name, her birth name. An old family they were from dating back to the renowned ruler of the British Isles himself. General Artorias of Albion, known by his other name as king Arthur Pendragon of Camelot.
She never announced herself in public as Le Fay Pendragon because people would say she was extremely bonkers.
"Very well then. We'll call it a draw." the bespectacled man focused on the older gentleman with a distrustful gait. Yet, he held gratitude and conflicted feelings about this overly polite man. "I guess Heracles won't be your babysitter after all. I'll have to hire a new nanny."
"The Black Knight always wins but you're more of a shitty squire. Nothing personal.", Fay added her two cents. "I'd take anyone over that creep. Shit's fucked."
Pendragon nodded in agreement.
"We need to kill the user. No guarantee if it would make them stop but worth the try. I just want you to know that we haven't forgotten how you kidnapped us and that annoying doctor... He just didn't shut up! I don't want to be around him ever again."
Case and point. He hated the Mordred jokes with a passion. Much more than the various types of horse jokes he had to endure.
"As you wish. We're waiting for some company.", the swordsman tapped the ground with his cane and made a portal to snatch the dead Heracles. As promised he put a bullet in the dead man's skull right between the eyes. His brown eyes flickered with a good, sarcastic and devious glint. A thin smile formed on his lips, "They should be here anytime now but I'll part some words to you. In another world you two had the birds and the bees. I was there."
A call interrupted Fay before she could have protested.
- [Arthur! We got delayed by an Asian kung fu creep with an eight meter tadpole! That's not the bad part. His crazy bitch looked exactly like Rina Fujimoto but taller and with bigger tits! She got away. We need to catch her but Eli is in trouble.], Doctor MonBlanc yelled on the other side of the call with enthusiasm and a few grunts were heard. [Change of plans. We're heading towards the beast itself. Go on without us.]
Arthur nodded and signaled for Fay and her brother to prepare. Caliburn and the recently reforged Ruler found their way into their hands as the man turned dead serious and professional. None of his kind and generous nature was present now.
- [On it, my boy. You can release Vali's secondary restraints. I fear this isn't the only battle for today. Go help Eleonora.]
Fay grasped the sword and started preparations for her second calling to Fenrir. This was the best way to chanel it's power since the wolf remained bound by Gleipnir even as they spoke so she would lend her body from time to time to abuse that loophole and give it some free reign in return for it's faithful service. "Let's do this shit, blokes. This is my time to one up that cunt and his bitch. Georg sassed me and he's gotta fucking pay!"
"Indeed." Pendragon slid his mask back on and brandished Ruler like a stick.
- [We need a weapon.]
The Doctor ended the call abruptly, leaving them to wonder what would happen next.
"We need a weapon and a big one. I know just the thing that matches the description. Wolf girl, take a gander at this beauty right here."
Space started to twist and bend above their heads, opening an expanding hole in the fabric of reality. Darkness and nothingness seeped when one took a look inside but that was to the naked eye. What was there was up to debate, interpretation and lots of arguing. From the boundaries that separated this reality from another plane rushed the nose of something gargantuan. Judging by it's appearance the younger sibling gaped in disbelief over the so called weapon as it was ridiculous, unreal to consider using as a tool.
And then she blurted out words of confusion with a high pitch in surprise.
"What the fuck!? You gotta be kidding me!"
XXX
"I can't believe it...we're alive! We're alive, Lucca!", Linda Sellzen raised her hands in the air and hurriedly glomped into the battered Saint Lucca of Sicily in a tight hug. The wounds she sported didn't deterr her from using the moment to seek out her fellow mates once the dust and light died out.
There in the middle of the battlefield stood the surviving Executors of the Last Battalion, surrounded by a pile of corpses belonging to the frightful assailants. Among the cadavers were some of the thralls while the majority was slaughtered Dreadnoughts lying there motionless in pieces. The deafening explosion passed but their ears were still ringing like a bronze bell. As to say, Lucina looked over the dead carcass and couldn't help but smile in recognition of being alive.
Luciano tried to hug back Linda rather cautiously if not keeping her at a distance since he tried to catch his breath. His prosthetic forearm was mangled and damaged so he had to rely on the blonde Summoner to remove it carefully and not damage the two cables that were linked to a small device on his other shoulder as to make his new limb move. Myo-electric prosthetics were not cheap.
Still he accepted her embrace and cast down his eyes in dejection. Teodoro sacrificed himself for them, for Irina to get away but all for naught. "How... are we still...alive?! Griselda, when did...you stop being human?", he directed his attention towards the leader of the Angel Faux with suspicion, concern and puzzlement all at once. He didn't let go of Linda for a second.
Surrounding them were the forms of the twelve Angel Faux with Griselda Quarta blowing off steam from the barrel of her Deus Ecstasy with a casual glint in her now inhuman, glowing eyes. The Dominions in her group shrank down to their normal size but neither one extinguished their unnatural wings or lowered their guard. Each one had formed a protective barrier before the enemies could massacre the remaining Executors and swiftly dealt with the Dreadnoughts in less than a minute as a testament to their unnatural prowess and fortitude. These new celestials were like the first generation and the higher echelons and they merely looked like human beings hiding their altered physiology.
Griselda dispelled her Divine Armament in various motes of light and chose to address the inquiry of Lucca rather dispassionately as if she were never a companion to them. Her posture changed ever so slightly as her rigid, emotionless gaze bore into his conflicted eyes in a machine-like manner. "You could say i used up a Miracle to save your lives and you can see the results. And not that quite ago, if i may shine some light upon your inquiry, Saint Lucca. But if you push yourself further you will die.", her voice had a melodious ring to it like the sweetest sonata but there was a detached and distant booming echo behind it. No change in her expression was evident. Frozen still as a marble statue, unchanging and divine was the set of words to describe her.
She knew better than him about his condition. As he was an amputee his immune system, his whole body was weakened and he needed at least six months minimum to make a recovery. He had jumped into action with less than two weeks, risking severe complications and death from a heart attack as much as his inability to use his prosthetic limb properly. He only used it to make one or two basic moves with extreme difficulty and adding the fact of using his Miracle of Amalgamation he wasn't likely to make a single charge in that state. He was pushed to the limit so Quarta wished to stop him from doing anything risky in this condition.
Lucina came closer to her friends and gave a hand to Lucca to get back on his feet with the support of Linda. The margarine blonde girl frowned and nearly cried if she wasn't nudged by Sellzen to hold it in. As all of them she had some questions of her own. "What's the situation?! How are the others right now? We need to move out and fall back. We've lost this post so there's nothing we can do.", frantically she blurted her sentences like a machine gun. Even her gestures were quite expressive when it came to fear and despair. "...We can't help Irina now...we have to retreat and get out of here this instant! I know she's like a sister to you but we can't stand up to a motherfucking Bandersnatch, let alone three of them."
To leave Irina and live, possibly. To try and save her and die surely. The choice before Lucina was obviously painful and she was ready to bear the consequences of it. Irina might have been a friend but as things were now hope was thrown out of her system completely. All her thoughts were of visions in which Irina was dead...the same way Teodoro Legrenzi, Ewald Cristaldi and all their comrades had met their untimely fates by the hands of that horrid Longinus Gear.
Griselda responded with no hesitation. "Wise words, Vincente. This is no place for you to thread upon. It has become a field of death and ashes so remove yourselves from here and carry on with your lives. Your contracts are terminated so leave this place and survive. Humanity needs it's faithful protectors to rise from the ashes and lead them to safety and that is your job."
When she said that last part Linda actually furrowed her brows in a odd expression that was hard to define properly. It appeared to be a mixture of both relief and yet it was of anger. She was practically told that her fight was over, to turn tail and run. As much as she wanted to rebuke her a part of her mind fully agreed with what she said.
All of them barely survived, each one had some wounds and fatigue built up so it was the only choice. Betraying Irina would weight upon her conscience till the day she would die however if it meant a chance to create that hope in the future she would do it. She wouldn't be alone in that endeavor.
"…I refuse to leave her to die...", Luciano uttered with strong conviction his desire to stay. Weak, powerless and wounded he would still try to save the sole child of his teacher, someone he viewed as his family even if he would die doing that. "That thing... It targeted any Summoner but why exactly... Irina...", he paused to take a deep breath before his blood froze and his visage grew stone cold. An epiphany arose in his jumbled thoughts, his heart raced faster and he could have had a stroke any minute now.
He was erratic and trying to free himself from his companions. He remembered something he nearly forgot. Something he shouldn't have. "Griselda... Get everyone out of here and go for Irina. Of course... How couldn't i have realized it sooner..."
Griselda waved for her Erelim to pick up Lucina and Linda while she addressed Luciano herself. Her daunting face did not budge or twist in fear upon seeing the catastrophe unfold. She had a suspicion she did not show at all, keeping it to herself. "Irina is the daughter of the third Heavenly Summoner. A Natural-born one. If the Gear went rogue on it's own...", her booming voice shuddered for the first time in anything resembling emotion, "then the Annihilation Maker needs her body to incarnate itself. It wants her as a host, one that can summon nearly every being in the planes of existence. It wants a new vessel that would truly anchor it in the upper plane and make it unstoppable."
Her voice fell flat with that last line.
She had the same thought as Lucca did. That sole fact terrified him to no ends. With the hulking berserkers already chasing after Irina he had to do something about it. Linda could be used as a temporary vessel if she was caught and used to trick the chestnut haired Shidou.
"Adraniel, Ramiel. Disperse and take them out of the city. Everyone else take care of the mess down here and look around for the user. They can't be that far away.", Griselda pulled over her cowl to hide her face and her troops took off with both girls in the opposite direction, leaving the blonde woman and Luciano alone.
"You know i did not reveal everything to them. The situation is dire so we need to run.", the blonde woman started first with an even tone. "Our brethren up there are fighting the Annihilation Maker with too many restraints on them. We've checked the whole city and there's not a single soul left in it.", something in her tone sounded unnerving to the ear. Human-esque yet so distant and frightening. "We need to go before they enter their true forms and wipe out the area. You know that distortions in reality would occur so we have to leave."
Saint Lucca sprawled his hand towards her. "Something odd is happening. Very odd if you ask me. To think one of our own would fall in the hands of the enemies..."
"It was one of the three last Longinus crafted by the Celestials but it doesn't have the lockdown code, it seems. I don't know what is in it but my whole being aches in rage.", added Griselda.
Every single Longinus Gear had a failsafe feature installed in case of it somehow finding itself in the hands of those who threatened humanity. Be it other beings or the very humans who had them. The code embedded in the ten Gears would force them to shut down, block them from use and prevent them from touching any celestial being and likely kill the user in the case they tried to destroy reality. Because what sort of idiot would allow such tools to fall in the hands of demons and others with nefarious desires without any way to stop them? Sadly, the last Gear was unfinished so it didn't have that safety protocol.
"Can...we win this?", Luciano blinked.
"Yes, we can. This is what we were made to do, Luciano. We were made to protect without infringing upon free will so i ask of you to trust me.", she grasped his hand and lifted him up as she took flight.
"Irina is the key to success. Have some faith in her. Because she is the child of a Heavenly Summoner."
XXX
