It takes more strength than she cares to admit to walk, march really to the balcony without showing a hint of weakness, as is expected of her.

The cheers at her appearance, from those close enough and with the presence of mind to glance her way, validates her decision and the cost to remain upright.

Even her hammer feels like an almost unbearable weight in her hand.

Still, Marika continues to stand tall, her dress billowing in the wind while in front of her, chaos reigns.

"The Goddess is with us!"

If nothing else, her appearance does seem to embolden the soldiers and knights some.

Even if she does little else but stand near the railing, as the walls crumble, drakes bloat out the sky and lances of fire pierce through Leyndell's buildings, marking them with their revolting glow.

And all the while the Beast continues to dig its fingers deeper and deeper into her brain. Demanding something she will never agree to.

Not while her dearest child stands.

Now while Godwyn, brilliant in his radiance, dances through the air, matching blade and fist against the claws and jaws of that bloated monstrosity.

But…

Much as she doesn't dare to give voice to the thought.

And even thinking it fills her with terror.

Her dear child seems to be on the back foot.

And then in a mere heartbeat it happens.

Something within her breaks and the Beast has it its way at last.

"Godwyn!"

A few minutes earlier:

"Kami preserve us…"

His hands shake unbidden and his throat feels dry all of a sudden.

"L-lord Ilirei, w-what are we going to do?!"

As the nobles surrounding him fall into panic, he spends but a heartbeat longer staring above, taking it all in.

The enormous distant figure leering down at the whole of his city, shattering Leyndell's walls. Walls which have never before been breached and whose height is only surpassed by the still growing Erdtree.

He scowls and as dragons, ten, hundred, thousand of them descend at the beast's roar, as if they'd been waiting for just that. Falling upon the city like comets as they slither through the massive wings, Ilirei glances as the Erdtree, or, in truth. At the building serving as Marika's monument to vainglory rising with the tree and where he knows his throne awaits.

Indecision wars within him but briefly.

His hand falls upon his sheathed blade and he prepares himself, for even if these pests are not whom he'd expected to test himself against today…

They will have to do.

"Make for the Throne," he snarls as he starts walking towards the walls and the descending horde of flying rats. "It's where you'll be safest."

And it is even the truth, for Marika will be good for that much if nothing else. And if she falls….well, they'll have bigger problems by that point.

"The arrogance," he says with a scoff as before his very eyes, a dragon descends, seeking to devour a group of unprepared soldiers…

And with hilt in hand, he steps and.

"HoooH"

Draws a deep breath and unsheathes.

"L-lord Ilirei?!"

He merely grunts, flicking the blood aside, sheathing the blade and resuming his walk.

"Advance! We have no time for pleasantries my good fellows!"

And that, much to his chagrin, very much the truth.

The body of the flying rat staining Leyndell's beautiful marble behind him?

It's hide provided much more resistance than he expected.

This won't be easy.

They'll need his oaf of a brother for this.

Still, if nothing else, probably courtesy of the arrogant monstrosity above, as Lord Fortissax rises with his own roar, the allied dragons residing within Leyndell rising with him and assuming their true shape, the difference is stark.

For the invading creatures are marked. Almost…burned. Bearing the imprint of a massive claw which, Ilirei suspects, matches pretty closely the claws which bat aside Fortissax a moment later.

"Ah, the failure. Good to see you too, son. Now, where is the other failure? You both need to be punished after all."

Yes, much as it burns him to admit, this is beyond what Ilirei can deal with on his own.

"Get away from my shop!"

Ilirei's eyes widen as, leaping from the rooftop of a shop near the walls a familiar figure rises, pelting the gigantic dragon with copper pots thrown from superhuman hands.

Only for the dragon to blink and—

"Cousin Nasir!" his cousin and fellow demigod both is swallowed in a single gulp.

Yes, this… is beyond the powers of a mere demigod.

Where are you, brother?

Each breath is a struggle, the whispers in her mind urging her to let go and sleep only barely being kept at bay by the bite of the bony spikes digging into her back and neck, making new pinpricks from which her lifesblood may exit and yet, compared to the hole exposing her torn entrails…

The hole which the hurried steps of the man carrying her only serve to pull and irritate further.

But the agony helps her force her lungs to draw breath.

Her eyes to remain open.

And staring into the Omen's face, she looks only for the similarities. Anything to give her a moment's strength further.

Tiche refuses to fail her Lord further still.

"Brother!"

"Mohg, what is it—" a surprised hiss escapes the more human looking Omen.

"What happened?!" the man grunts, before pausing, as if it hurts to even consider the next words. "Mohg did you—"

"Of course not! I found Lady Tiche close by, well, close enough at any rate—"

The relieved sigh is quickly followed by a barked order.

"I don't care where you found her right now you blubbering newt. Quickly! Bring her here, time is of the essence!" Morgott barks and through blurry vision and cradled with surprising care, she watches as the shorter of the twins approaches a relatively clean seeming pipe and sweeps its top clear of knickknacks and, with a grunt, a burst of almost familiar Gold spreads from his hands, seeming to clean the metal some.

And Tiche hisses, the edges of her vision turning black as lord Mogh lowers her and her wound and guts kisses the cold metal.

But the hiss swiftly fades, followed by blessed relief as lord Morgott, brows furrowed, leans over her, arms hovering but an inch from her skin and flying up and down her body, raining Golden Radiance.

The pain lessens, her wits return and the pulse she only now realizes had been thundering like a racehorse on track, slows as her breathing eases.

The pain lessens…but doesn't vanish.

"Brother…" Morgott says with a frown.

"Eh? What is it?"

"This…this is beyond my skill to heal," the man spits, almost as if but admitting the fact burns him. Or, rather, given how he looks at her. With her returning wits, Tiche suspects its failing the brother with whom they'd been all but recently reunited with, even if only in brief.

Still the dour omen continues to try.

And even though she suspects she might have the strength to talk once more, she holds back for now.

But lord Mohg doesn't.

"Then…what are we going to do?" he asks, before the horned man glances down at her, and more specifically at her wound. "But, brother, how can it be?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've seen you heal similar wounds, if, admittedly, quite a bit smaller—"

"It's not that you dunderhead," the man barks, before sighing and nodding down. "The… extent of the damage is a concern yes, but, do you see those bits of writhing yellow?"

"Yes? I assumed they were bits of armor or a weapon? Either Lady Tiche's own or her opponents—"

"Those did not come from a weapon."

"What then."

Morgott merely nods downwards again.

And Mohg, furrows his brows for but a moment before, the giant man grows a few shades lighter and stumbles back.

"Oh."

"Yes."

It seems they are familiar with whatever it is Tiche encountered, good. That means she can focus on conserving her strength if things are as bad, her outlook as dire as lord Morgott proclaims.

"What are we going, what can we do then, brother?"

Morgott's scowl deepens before he sighs and, picks her up, drawing an agonized howl from her lips. For with renewed clarity, the sensations from exposed nerves are now that much stronger.

Thankfully, he continues to direct healing energies towards her, even if by the minute beads of sweat on his face, this is considerably more taxing.

"We have but one option. We climb."

Out of the corner of her eyes, Mogh pales further.

"But, we can't we aren't strong enough."

Morgott turns around, gritting his teeth in a familiar way if not shape.

Tiche had seen such an expression on someone preparing themselves for an arduous, torturous task before.

Namely her own reflection.

"Brother, the pain…"

With a deep breath, Morgott starts walking.

"I can't do this alone, Mohg," the man carrying her says, voice soft. "Perhaps I could if circumstances were different…"

But whatever it is that summons such anguish from the twins is something the demands of keeping her alive are unlikely to help make easier.

For a few moments the sounds of Morgott's feet are the only thing Tiche can hear.

And then.

A second pair of feet rushes after them.

"S-such power, such devastation…"

Lucia spares but a single moment glaring at the awestruck man running besides her.

"Focus, Captain," she barks, blade in hand and as a drake descends towards a pair of small folk ahead, she jumps with a roar not waiting to hear Gaive's answer as she beheads the invader.

And behind her, with a roar, the Captain smacks into the head and body, blowing them away from the small folk and into a hopefully empty house, while Lucia continues to run, her knights following, those she didn't dispatch…everywhere at any rate. Where the rest of her Captains felt they could do the most good.

Offer the most help.

But in this mess.

In this chaos?

Lucia ducks and rolls under the claws of a drake who, thinking itself smart, had perched itself atop a nearby manor.

Rising upwards, her greatsword does as well.

And with a pained roar, this invader will never rise to the sky again.

She doesn't bother to finish the job, she doesn't have the time and that's why she's ordered a spear formation. Her, the Captain and those strongest at the front, smacking and smashing through the invading host wherever they chance to meet them.

Wounding them irreparably and then those still growing into their strengths, still learning. The neophytes to be protected but not coddled. Not today and in this mess. They can land the killing blows where necessary.

And it's not like she didn't station a few lieutenants to stand with them.

They could have perhaps been of more help up front with her, but, the neophytes are their order's future and her people both.

At the sound of a scream, Lucia's head snaps towards and, jumping and kicking of the burning walls of a house and then again a couple dozen meters further up ahead she flies left at the crossroad and, with a roar and her greatsword pointing forward, lands upon the Dragon's back, severing its spine and making the lizard arch its head in pain and away from the mother shielding her children.

Her knights are quick to follow and another invader joins the dead.

Not bothering to acknowledge the woman and the children's thanks beyond a nod and a smile she starts running again.

Her breath coming quicker.

Sweat breaking across her brow.

It's been but a few minutes since it arrived and she hastened to respond.

A few minutes and already Leyndell is hell.

My Lord, where are you?

Godwyn, and perhaps the Goddess herself are the only ones who can make a decisive difference in this battle she knows it.

And she also knows that the best she, her knights, and the soldiers everywhere can do is minimize the damage.

Not the she truly minds, her Lord would, will no doubt consider this valuable service to himself and their people both. And it is the truth.

But still.

Shame still burns in her breast.

For the last time her Lord fought, even if he hadn't really needed her help.

She'd been but a distraction against Lansseax's claws and now against this much more gigantic specimen so similar to her…

Her fingers tighten around the handle of her sword, drawing a warning creak from the metal and forcing her to ease up on her grip.

A knight's duty is to serve.

And so she shall, even if she wishes she could do more.

The great dragon advancing into the city roars and its head jerks backward as a Golden figure smacks into it and a displaced bubble of air blows and shatters roofs and windows near the epicenter.

"Lord Godwyn!"

She smiles at Captain Gaive's shout and the excited murmurs of her knights but then the smile, as quickly as it'd arrived vanishes.

For the humming hits her ears.

The voice familiar.

But more than that.

There a profound sense of wrongness in the air.

And the fires that sprout across the nearby building's walls?

They look remarkably different from those birthed by the dragons and drakes flames.

Lucia slows down to a stop, her heart hammering and even if no signal is given, her knights do the same.

No doubt feeling the same nervousness as her as the humming grows still.

And then up ahead, all but skipping into view—

"Nago!"

The excited whisper and the joy at her sister's reappearance fades as quickly as it appeared for her sister…looks wrong.

Something is terribly, terribly wrong.

And its not just her provocative manner of dress, or the terrible burns lining her exposed flesh.

But the mad delighted grin which stretches wider as her sister catches sight of her.

And the fell glow of her eyes which grows stronger…

"Oh~ Why if it isn't my dear sister~"

Lucia shudders, for unlike before, and their differences they might have had, the sound, the word coming from this?

It feels wrong.

In a deep level and way she can't put word to.

"My Lady? Your orders?"

For a moment she hesitates, her sword lowering some and her throat incredibly dry as she watches Nago sway, almost float towards them.

Her sister dancing, arms swaying to their own tune as Nago starts turning and whirling in a dervish like dance but then, Lucia notices with each of her sister's steps, each wave of an arm, the infernal flames around them grow. Flames the color of her sister's eyes, a yellow much deeper and unlike Nago's usual and similar to the men—

The spell breaks as she notices the gaunt, emaciated figures shambling towards them, following Nago and spreading outwards.

"Oh~ Impressive little coward~" Nago purrs as Lucia barely manages to clear the last vestiges of whatever her sister was doing and meet Nago's arm with her swinging greatsword.

And where the blade should have cleaved right through.

It is instead stopped by an iron like limb and a delighted pained hiss from Nago's lips.

"Deal with…whatever those are!" she barks at her men and focuses back on her sister. "Leave my sister to me."

And Nago laughs, titters as her knights rush forward, fanning all around them, engaging the creatures and pained cries fill the air from both sides.

Only her men's sounding fully human as dense flames flying from the creatures' eyes spear through her men.

But.

Selfish of her as it might be.

Lucia cares not in this moment.

She has eyes only for her sister.

And Nago, mocking grin in place as she gently, mockingly pulls her arm away, the almost black limb loosing its shining like luster and turning into normal flesh again. Nago too has eyes only for her.

Eyes which dance and are the same color as the flames dancing all around them.

"Sister, what's the meaning of this? What happened? Where were you? I, we were all so worried…" she knows its likely pointless, but she must know, or at least, must try.

This day is quickly turning bad enough already, and Lucia…she doesn't want to contemplate what might need to be done.

"Oh~ Now you worry, little coward? Now you care?" Nago asks with a sigh as she rises a hand and, suggestively, provocatively trails her burned sides before cupping her face. "It's too late, coward. And I do believe I've told you before." Her sister's smile turning cruel is the only warning Lucia has to raise her blade. "Don't call me that!"

Lucia's whole world turns into pain.

Pain and effort.

For fending away each of her sister's hammer like blows, bating aside the sweeps from a tail that appears as suddenly as it vanishes, or dodging and hastily blocking iron like tentacle spikes at the last instant…

Demands all of her not inconsiderable skill.

All of her strength.

And through it all, Nago stills holds that mocking smile.

The smile.

And soon enough, the hum as well.

But even worse still, it is not enough.

All of her skill and strength is not enough to match whatever Nago has done to herself.

If I ever could…

But she squashes that thought as quickly as it appears before freezing for but an instant.

An eternity in a battle like this and yet, her sister doesn't take advantage of it to further shatter her armor.

Instead the woman leaps backward with the brief appearance of a pair of wings.

"Mmh, you've noticed it haven't you, lil coward?"

Nago has been in control of their battle, yes.

"We are alone," she gasps.

And Nago claps.

"Bravo! I knew even a dimwit like you could figure it out if given enough time!"

Well, if that's the case, then giving her sister what she no doubt wants is not that big of an ask.

And besides.

The quicker she knocks Nago out, the quicker she can get back to her men, and even if she is not quite certain as to where her knights currently are.

If she follows the fell flames she suspects she'll find out.

She takes a deep breath.

Lucia closes her eyes and, the diamond embedded in her forehead, useless jewelry in truth, if for the fact it signifies her promise to her Lord, ripples.

And falls.

"Forgive me, my Lord…" she whispers and draws upon strength she hasn't dared touch in decades.

"Yes~" her sister cooes and then before Lucia can even get her bearings, get used to her new and improved senses, Nago is upon her.

But now, even if it comes with the terrible realization that her sister had been holding back.

Lucia finds it so much easier to raise her blade and meet Nago's blows.

And by the pained hiss and the vanishing of Nago's smile, her sister knows it too.

Nago can no longer afford to play with her.

And where Lucia's flesh merely ripples. Swells and grows taut as circumstances dictate. Her senses and reactions sharpened.

Nago explodes into a revolting parody of life.

Wings, fangs, claws, tails, and tentacles.

All come and go as demanded.

Hammering down upon Lucia.

Before with a monstrously inflated fist which slips past her guard, the plate around her midsection shatters and Lucia flies through a nearby house, and as splinters and glass accompany her, Nago appears above her, and with a roar holding the grief and repressed pain of decades slams an spike tipped elbow into the already exposed flesh.

Momentarily covering Lucia's vision in white as her back hits and cracks the marble below and her sword is sent skidding away from twitching fingers while her body hastens to seal and deal with her many wounds.

Groaning, and as the sound of marble cracking nearby reaches her, Lucia looks through bleary eyes as a grinning, humming Nago sashays towards her.

Her sister's robe splattered with both their blood.

And Nago, coming to a stop above Lucia's still mangled form, stares.

Before raising a fist.

A fist which swells and darkens.

"Sister…" she manages weakly and Nago's smile widens.

"Did I not tell you…oh, but you've always been a bit slow, haven't you. Oh well," her sister leans down, leaving herself exposed as her lips almost kiss Lucia's ear.

Not that she is in any shape to take advantage of the opening.

Not for a few more seconds at least.

"Die knowing this you coward, I. Am. better."

She doesn't care about that.

She doesn't care about that at all!

Rather as her sister rises and so does her blackened fist.

Lucia wants to reach out and hug her, for if but a few brief instants, during their fight, within Nago's eyes, they shone with terror. For less than a heartbeat, her sister's visage seeming almost…pleading before the madness returned.

Oh sister. What did you do to yourself?

The fist descends.

My Lord. Sister. Forgive me for I have failed you both…

Even if I'm not certain whether his perceptions are sharp, or fast enough to notice, I grin and wink at my brother as Lansy throws me.

And shining Gold, I don't dare risking going into this with anything less than my full strength. Fully armored, revolver sheath stocked and stuck to me, I smash into what the monster that excites my blood so and which my terrified princess named 'Gransax'.

Making him roar as I draw a deep gush into his snout which, alongside the force of Lansy's throw and my own strength serves to move the great beast aside some…

And so, make its claws miss Ilirei down below.

Kicking against the gigantic dragon's head I clear a score of no less than a dozen meters before forming a platform of gold under my soles, similar to what the death gods of that distant words utilize to step across the sky and smile.

It is not a nice smile.

"My Prince…"

And my gremlin's nervous tone only serves to excite me further.

For the gush dripping blood down the dragon's head?

I didn't pull my strength at all.

My grin stretches wide enough to hurt.

Greyoll has nothing on this one!

And, thanks to my knife, I've grown considerably stronger since my blade met the dragon mother's claw.

"Wonderful!" I shout with a laugh, spreading my arms to the side as the dragon growls and…pauses, reaching up with one arm, his claws scratching against where I landed, feeling the bruising. Or whatever is the Dragonic equivalent. "Yes! This will be glorious!"

"I take it you are the weaklings Champion then, oh whelp?"

Despite Gransax's mocking rubble which sends my hair flying and levels a few of the closest buildings, I laugh and nod.

"Not an inaccurate way of putting it my oversized friend, yes!"

The dragon snorts, a bit of levity entering his tone. "Your blow was like that of a bug, but, at least, unlike the rest of those weaklings I felt that. Try not to die too quickly, make this fun for me, yes?"

"Same to you!" I grin and clutch my blade, all but vibrating in place while Gransax snorts and then pauses, his eyes looking somewhere past me.

"Ah, and there's the other failure. You and your failure of a brother wait your turn, yes? After I deal with this one here…well, Florissax is not here to protect you this time."

The leer, the enormous tongue peeking past massive jaws and the malicious tone.

I'm no longer smiling.