Seaways Canyon near Oeilvert, this morning
After the memory replayed, a slight grin rose on her sober expression. It was another world back then. They were just kids left with ancient responsibility. Funny how in this pressing situation she remembered a highlight of her youth.
"What's so funny? You stood there for a minute like some idiot." Doyle's aura kept him in midair. "Face it, Freya, there's no way you can win. You can't penetrate my aura. I guess Fratley forgot to teach you how to fight from a long distance." As he crossed his arms, so too did his aura, which held the form of his image. "It only took your three tries to hit me so far, and I'm really disappointed I had to use my true power on you. If only that traitor Kal bothered to come back to us instead of losing to a weakling like you." He was unaware that Freya let Kal live.
"You always did talk too much, Doyle. Listen to yourself. You run your mouth about traitors, but what did you do when the capital was sacked? You fled just like any Burmecian that was powerless against the invaders. When you ranked among such an elite circle of warriors, you hid it in face of the genocide of our people! Your secret cult is more important to you than our country?"
"As if we'd expose our identities when Garland was still around. We had to keep our secrets back then. And you're one to talk. You waltzed out of the capital in search of that deserter."
"Yet I still returned to fight off the invaders! You still fled!"
"Bah! In the big picture, it was our elite that resurrected Burmecia into a mighty contender on this globe. Even before that invasion, Burmecia was already a crumbling shell of its ancient glory. Your order had already withered so much, only a bully like Fratley and a nerd like you carried it. Face it, Burmecia was only bending down to the countries of humans. You have seen the recent maps. Alexandria and Lindblum gradually swelled into the lands that belonged to Burmecia. The invasion sorted out the chaff of politicians and the weak king, leaving us strong to lead Burmecia back to the forefront of civilization! When it has finally taken over as the supreme state, we will title it in the ancient name it once held, that of Falgabard!"
"And in that process you turned back on our country's foundations. Valor, bravery, compassion! Those are what established our country, not this back-stabbing imperialism!"
"Weak! All weak! Our master has proven again at the superiority of our form! It is our race that dominated the world in the days before Garland. And it was our dominant race, with all its superior technology and power that taught Garland a lesson. Unfortunately for us, he waited so many millennia for our glorious empire to ebb in the dark ages. He knew that without our guiding light, we as a people could only struggle to exist as a nation, let alone fight him off again. Our guiding light was strength, those deities that made the planet tremble in their wake. One of our forebears was among them. Such was his power, even Garland couldn't duel him. We dark knights inherited that power. We name ourselves to the metal that our forefather harnessed, iron."
"Iron-Force Doyle... a shame you won't be known by that name much longer."
"And what makes you think that?"
"While the despotic lot of you were comfortable in secrecy, I improved the many flaws of the White Dragon style. Since you're so arrogant with your so-called invincible aura, I thought it best to shatter it. You have probably figured out that I tested each classical technique on you. One-by-one I used them, and each time you overcame it. You became confident that whatever I did was not enough to harm you, let alone defeat you. But I was not using the style I developed. I went easy on you, but now it's different." She took to stance, the slightly skewed version of what the technique used to call for.
"Cherry Blossom? No, it's a little off. Though your version was never like Fratley's." No image of a dragon appeared, but the petals flew about him.
"You're right. It isn't at all like Fratley's." Her expression remained cold. The petals multiplied and accelerated.
Doyle grew concerned, because some of the petals visibly cut at his aura. Still the attack gained integrity, and soon a storm of petals swarmed over him. With analytical perception, he noticed the petals to pull the aura as they cut, and use the stolen energy as added momentum. The storm grew more violent, and a stream of petals flowed into a whirl around Freya. He tried moving his arm, but the blossoms somehow anchored him.
"Fratley's version never had a second stage." Her voice, cold and logical, told of her merciless attitude. In moments, Freya was inside a tornado of cherry blossoms. The turbulent pillar sheared into his aura, and tore huge chunks of it away. Blood seeped out of his ears, eyes, nose, and mouth. His aura was literally his soul, and Freya exploited this by using it against itself. In only three clashes, the tornado was fiercer that Cleyra's most intense sandstorm.
The pillar pulled back and reached to the sky. In great speed, the entire tornado was high in the air, and compressed itself to a drill shape. Freya, within this ominous shape, hurled herself back down to Doyle. As stern for this vessel of assault, a great phantom of a red dragon roared. This was the third and final stage of her Cherry Blossom, and it brutally shredded right through Doyle and his aura. The bloody mess which remained of him disintegrated into dust, then atomized. The deadly petals blew away and vanished. Only she remained there on the battlefield.
Of the five, he was the first to have died. Apparently Kal was the only one of the five with enough brains to side with Freya. Doyle was the first Burmecian she ever killed, and she didn't enjoy it. They were comrades years ago, but circumstances pitted one against the other. There was no room for sentimentality. It was a time of retribution, when Freya had to undo the future she allowed to happen. With Dragon Whisker held over her shoulder, she marched to Oeilvert, the new citadel of the Burmecian Tent Government.