Ch 15 - Invasion Pt 2
A/N: Ended up splitting the chapter, partly to make myself feel like I accomplished something in the last chapter, partly because cliffhangers are funny when you're the one making them and therefore already know what's going to happen, partly because I liked the word count where it was and felt that the whole thing in once chapter would be too bloated, and partly because I felt that that was a perfect point to end a chapter in order to build narrative suspense.
As a quick aside, FFN really fucking sucks to upload on. The Doc Manager just undoes ALL the formatting of a chapter, and I have to spend EASILY 10-20 minutes every time I upload going back through the chapter and fixing it all. I can understand why so many people prefer to upload on AO3, because at this point, I honestly prefer to use it too, and the only thing FFN has over it is that the browser version has a dark-mode.
Disclaimer: I don't own Dark Souls or RWBY. Dark Souls belongs to From Software and RWBY belonged to RoosterTeeth. I only own my OCs.
(Vyliria)
A darkwraith. A fucking darkwraith. How in Izalith did Ruby end up nearly alone and attacked by a fucking darkwraith? She offered a quick mental thanks to Gwyndolin's soul that her paranoia had come through for her yet again, because if she hadn't given the red reaper the sheepskin parchment she herself had received from the priestess Emma just minutes before she'd first encountered Vordt, then she wouldn't have even known that she was in danger. And given the state of Qrow, he'd probably be dead, but that was something to worry about after the soul-sucking abomination in front of her was violently banished back to its own body. As it was, the Way of the Blue artifact had sent a pulse of magic to her own Darkmoon amulet as soon as it detected an invader in its presence, and damn near gave her a heart attack to boot. She made a brief mental note for the future to look into whether or not a heart attack would actually pose a problem to her, given that she was already technically dead… or if she could even have a heart attack in the first place.
Not taking her eyes off the abomination before her, because she knew how fast those things could move when they wanted to, she called out past it, asking, "How many?"
"What?" Ruby asked. It took more effort than she would have liked to avoid yelling at Ruby, as that would have diverted her attention from the threat at hand. Not a second later, she heard the girl yelp in pain, and concluded that Neo probably elbowed her or something along those lines, and a pair of seconds later, she said, "Sixty-four people."
Her breath froze, and ice ran through her veins. "Fuck," she bit out. She tightened her grip on the haft of her black knight glaive-
And the darkwraith was moving towards her at full speed. The apprehension, the worry for the safety of those nearby, her annoyance at still being unable to tap into her fragment of the Dark Soul like she had at Beacon, even her own private fears that this foe had a good chance at besting her, were all shoved to the side in an instant, and her gaze narrowed. She shifted her guard to something slightly more defensive, not blinking as she waited for the tiniest hint of movement that differed from its sprint, and- there, a moderate twitch of its arm, and a shifting of its foot even as it stepped into swinging range gave away that the oncoming attack wouldn't be a feint. She spun, building momentum, swinging from the left as the relic of one of Gywn's own knights met a blade forged in the Abyss and mired in the blood of countless innocents. With a mighty clang that jarred her arms, its first swipe was stopped cold, and she twisted with her arms to push its sword up in order to ensure that it wouldn't be able to swing at her again for a precious pair of seconds, which let her step back without fear of being struck. And she needed to step back, because just like she had known would happen, its dark hand swiped into the space she'd just been occupying, glowing with lifedrain.
She thrust her glaive upwards, using the spike on the back to catch its sword as it was trying to move it back into a guard position, before yanking the haft back down, her blade stopped by its dark hand, but that was exactly what she had planned to happen. Her left hand lifted off the glaive in a flash, palm thrust upwards, and sparks flickered on her fingertips, before a great combustion blasted forth, sending the darkwraith staggering back, and she followed up with a one-handed swipe from her own weapon that scored a deep cut into its armor, brackish, blackened, phantasmal fluid leaking out from the superficial wound she'd inflicted on the invader. She made no mistake in assuming the blow was actually a hindrance to the thing, because much like herself, especially considering that it was a phantom, blood was a pleasure, not a necessity. She preemptively threw herself out of the way, the roll carrying her from the path of the blade that it had swung at her, and she lashed out with a low sweep, the darkwraith jumping back to avoid the attack, and she followed up by conjuring a throwing knife to her off-hand and tossing it at the thing's torso. It was already moving back towards her, tanking the disposable blade without a care in the world, the steel burying itself in its chestplate, and it swung its sword at her. Vyliria raised her left arm, bracing herself, and grunted when it impacted, pushing down the flash of pain as it bit into her arm, though her armor had lessened the impact enough so that it didn't cut past bone and sever the limb. Her right hand dropped the glaive entirely, lighting up with flames as she tossed a chaos bed vestige into her foe at point-blank range. The darkwraith was taken from its feet by the impact, though while its sword was yanked back out of her arm, it still managed to come to a stop in a crouch.
"Phantoms don't have aura," she muttered to herself. "That's fucking wonderful," she added, calling forth her estus flask and taking a sip, flexing her fingers as she felt the tendons and muscles of her forearm reknit, simultaneously dismissing the jade vessel and picking her Black Knight glaive back up, readying herself for its next attack. She wasn't fast enough, and a slash nicked her abdomen, though she ignored the injury and used her left hand to conjure a blast of black fire to send herself spinning, forcing the darkwraith to abort its followup to block her recoil-boosted swipe from the left. She stepped back from a grab by its left hand, and bat aside the limb with a jab from her glaive right after, but was struck once more upon her left arm, this time only a slight cut and not something that directly threatened her ability to fight. An overhead swing from her glaive was blocked by its sword, and she was forced to shift her grip to take its counter on the shaft of her weapon, which was very shortly followed by its free hand, glowing red-white with lifedrain. It started pushing against her, and she grit her teeth from the strain of keeping it at bay. Slowly, inexorably, that glowing hand started pushing her weapon closer to her face, and she desperately wracked her mind for anything she could do to stop it. Abandoning her weapon and attempting to conjure another wasn't an option, because in the time it took her to do that, the amount of humanity the thing had absorbed would certainly allow it to be fast enough to move around the discarded metal and attack her directly. Spellcraft was also an option, but darkwraiths were naturally resistant to hexes, and this one had absorbed enough humanity that normal pyromancies wouldn't be able to down it quickly either. And even if they could, the fight so far had clearly demonstrated that without the element of surprise, the darkwraith was more than capable of maintaining the melee and preventing her from getting the room and time needed to cast, even if that time was a mere second. Then the sword lifted off her weapon, sliding under it and stabbing between her ribs. She winced from the pain as the blade went through her breast and punctured a lung, and coughed involuntarily, spectral blood issuing forth from her lips. She held onto her weapon. The sword withdrew and stabbed her again, and she lost a pair of inches in the main struggle, but she refused to let go. The sword withdrew a second time, and she heaved in a ragged breath, pushing down a reflexive cough that would have came up bloody, and grit her teeth as she braced for a third stab, only for the darkwraith to half turn and raise its sword to instead block a blow from a scythe.
Ruby Rose removed one hand from the shaft of her own weapon, and Vyliria watched as she used an exact move they'd worked on during one of their scythe lessons back in Beacon, twisting her body while using the limb still grasping her weapon as an pivot-point, a foot lashing out and kicking the invader in the face with full force. It staggered back, lifedrain going out for a moment as it let go of Vyliria's glaive, the Irithyllian taking a few steps back and going for her estus flask while the red reaper assumed a guard in front of her. She took a small sip, to staunch the worst of the wounds while letting the miracle she'd cast before the fight regenerate the rest over the next minute or so, before offering a thanks for the save. Ruby merely hummed an acknowledgement, keeping her eyes on the main threat. Vyliria spared a fraction of a second to look to the sides, seeing the faunus girl she didn't recognize coming up from the right, and Neo from the left, Qrow not immediately visible, and likely hidden behind an illusion from Neo in order to keep him relatively safe. She had no doubts the darkwraith would be able to track him down by his soul in a second, but the unconscious man not being in plain view meant it was more likely to focus on the people who could be seen by the naked eye.
"Normally, I'd be against ganking, but darkwraiths are an exception to that rule," the unkindled half-joked. And with that, they were back into the fray. Even outnumbered four-to-one, one of those four being an experienced member of an order specifically founded to fight their foe, the darkwraith was still a daunting opponent. It preempted an attack from Ruby, stepping to the side and lashing out with a foot to kick the surprised reaper away, before it's dark hand slapped away a strike from the strange rapier-whip hybrid the faunus girl was using, and then its sword pushed aside a thrust from her own glaive, before its free arm twisted to intercept a slash from Hush, Neo managing to land a blow, carving a moderate gouge in the armor on its forearm, which began to leak phantasmal blood. Two slashes from the whip managed to connect with its back, dealing another wound, before it rushed for its wielder and reared its empty hand back. It shot out as the woman's eyes widened in surprise, only for Neo to interpose herself between the two, parasol opened. Its hand was stopped on the fabric, but before it could attempt to force its way past or through the obstruction, Vyliria swung from the right in a downwards slash, not particularly intending to actually land a hit, rather than act as something to distract their foe so that one of her other allies could. Ruby hadn't been idle in the seconds since she'd been launched, flashing into a cloud of rose petals to break her momentum, holstering her weapon, drawing the Sunless talisman, and belting out a tale as she came back in just in time.
Exiled and imprisoned alone in a hostile world of painted cold,
The Crossbreed Priscilla was visited by many warriors bold,
Yet to each one she offered their lives to be spared,
If only those same terms to her would be shared,
And though many sought to bring her mortal strife,
She cut them all down with her Lifehunt Scythe!
The phantasmal blade swept across the darkwraith's torso as Vyliria leapt back at the last second, removing herself from its path. A guttural groan of pain greeted her ears, and the lifeforce of the red phantom was absorbed into Ruby, the girl's aura flaring up briefly as it absorbed the foreign energy. The red reaper used her semblance to speed out of range of retaliation, though stayed as a girl for once instead of shifting to a cloud of rose petals, placing the catalyst back to her hip as she drew Crescent Rose once again. Even as the weapon unfurled, she was already sprinting full speed, petals trailing behind her as she came back in. It raised its blade in preparation to intercept the next strike, only for the rapier-whip to lash out wrapping about the wrist holding the blade as the faunus girl tugged on the hilt of the weapon to off-balance the darkwraith. Its arm was pulled back, and Ruby hooked her weapon just above the elbow, and then pulled the trigger of the sniper-rifle as she kept going. There was a crack and a squelch as the darkwraith lumbered forwards, the now-severed blade arm yanked away by the whip. Vyliria gave a shout as she swiped at its now-unguarded side, only for its dark hand to grab the blade of her glaive before it could rip into its torso. Before either combatant could react to the interception, Neo jumped onto its back, wrapping her legs about its torso as she drew the rapier she normally kept within Hush, and wound her arm back before stabbing it into the darkwraith's neck. She twisted the blade, evidently severing its spinal-cord, as the abomination fell to the ground like a sack of masonry. Vyliria stepped forwards, planted an armored boot onto its torso, and raised her glaive. Without any fanfare, she stabbed it down, aiming straight for one of its eyes. The blade sunk a good half foot in, but she pushed it in deeper, before twisting the scorched titanite within the contents of its skull. It twitched once, and then went still, and the knightess of the Blades of the Darkmoon pulled her glaive out the side of its head, ripping open another wound, just to be sure.
The invader's corpse began to evaporate into a red mist, most of which dissipated, though a small amount drifted towards Vyliria, who held out a hand and watched as the mist collected in her palm and coalesced into a Proof of Concord Kept. It burnt into a mass of embers, which she quickly absorbed into her inventory. Only then did the other three combatants finally relax. Ruby herself walked up to the Irithyllian, and began to excitedly chatter, "Vyliria! How'd you get here? What was that thing? Why are you glowing bl-"
WHAP!
Ruby stumbled back from the backhand with a shout of surprise, and Vyliria used that same limb to pull her hood down and reveal her glaring visage to the girl. She began in a low voice, "Of all the stupid, irresponsible, dangerous, outright suicidal things you could do, Ruby," and then she moved on to a shout, "what in Gwyn's name made you think that picking a fight with a fucking darkwraith was a good idea?!"
"I-"
"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH DANGER YOU WERE IN?!" she screamed into Ruby's face as the girl flinched back. "That thing would have sucked out you Gwyndamned soul, and left you a literal, empty, desiccated husk!" Her voice went back to a more quiet volume, but her tone remained just as, if not more, forceful. "Do you have any idea how terrified I was when your Way of the Blue parchment let me know you were being invaded? Do you have any idea how worried JNPR and Penny are when they saw something put the fear of Gwyn himself in me, before I had to use my covenant to get summoned over here without so much as being able to give them an explanation? Because even now, they're staring at my unconscious body and all they know is that your life is in danger. What about your team? Your sister?! Did you even think about them when you decided to rush out here? What would have happened to you if Neo wasn't here with you? You nearly got your uncle killed, Ruby! Why?"
"I-I wanted to help people," the girl squeaked. "I found out that it was killing so many people, and I wanted to stop it before it could kill anyone else."
"And you didn't think to bring your team with you? And I'm willing to bet a substantial amount of souls that Neo's only here because she decided to follow you after catching you going out."
"Patches told us not to… But I couldn't just do nothing!"
"Patches is hundreds of thousands of years old, Ruby. So when he says not to go after the soul-sucking abomination, you listen!"
Tears were beginning to leak from the girl's eyes, and Vyliria felt her anger deflate in moments, though the stress in her mind remained unabated. "I'm sorry, Vyliria…"
"Ruby… just please don't do it again. I might not be able to get here in time when it comes back. At least if you're with your friends you can stall for time."
"When it comes back?" the faunus girl asked, interjecting herself into the conversation.
"Sorry, I don't think I caught your name-"
"Ilia," the now-named woman cut her off.
"Right," Vyliria made a mental note of the name, and the face that matched it. "That darkwraith was an invader, using a foul artifact called a red-eye-orb to create a phantasmal projection of itself, independent of its own body, which it uses to attack people and drain their humanity."
"Humanity?" Ilia questioned, an eyebrow raised. "We're faunus, and-"
"Sorry, my bad. I meant humanity in the literal sense. As in, the infinitesimal fragments of the Dark Soul of Man that's within every member of both of our races." Ilia opened her mouth, but the Irithyllian cut her off as she continued. "Moving on, I used a similar artifact, crafted by my covenant, which was used to project a blue phantom of myself, which you're conversing with now, in order to get a third the way across Remnant in a matter of seconds. The parchment I gave Ruby, which thank Gwyn she kept it on her person like I asked-" the girl in question gave a shaky laugh as she patted a pocket "-let me know she was being invaded in the first place. But back to my original point, that was only a red phantom that we banished. The darkwraith is still somewhere in the area, likely within or near the city, and violently banishing it like we did will only prevent it from making another attempt for a few days at most, and if we're particularly unlucky, it may be back as soon as tomorrow night. It's very much still at lar-" Vyliria stopped, as she realized that her phantom was still here, and she hadn't even begun to dissipate. She blamed the fact that she hadn't been summoned since the Age of Fire as the source of her forgetfulness, but as soon as she remembered, fear lanced down her veins once more, and she raised her weapon back up.
"Vyliria?" Ruby asked.
"I'm still here," she responded. "When all invaders in the area are banished, a Blade will naturally return to their own body within a few minutes. And since I haven't even begun to dissipate, that means-"
"There's more?" Ilia asked with mounting alarm.
They all froze as a slow, drawn out clap began to ring off. Vyliria stiffened, recognizing that sarcastic applause immediately, and she tightened her grip on her glaive as she turned around towards the source of the noise. The mask was steel instead of silver, but she recognized the attire and Crescent Moon blade holstered at the hip of Leonhard instantly. And standing next to him, idly drawing a dragonslayer axe from a loop on his belt, stood Creighton the Wanderer. And both of the former servants of Rosaria glowed a menacing red.
Leonhard was once a nobleman who had dabbled in sorcery, before becoming hideously scarred in some incident Vyliria had never learned the details of, and donning a silver (now steel) mask that bore no features beyond two holes for eyes to see from. He had sought out Rosaria based on the rumors that she offered the ability to remold one's appearance however they saw fit to, if only they'd provide the severed tongue of an innocent for the Mother of Rebirth, who lacked one of her own. The man was dressed as an aristocrat who intended to travel a long ways in her age would dress, a black cape with golden embroidery on its edges wrapped about his shoulders and falling down to below the knee on his right side. The bottom of a steel gorget poked out from beneath the cape clasped upon him, leather attached to the cape extended upwards, wrapped as a collar about his neck, which was fastened at the front with a metal pin. A brown leather coat with elegant patterns sewn onto it covered his torso, held to his body at the waist with a belt with a metal clasp, which also bore a pouch and holsters for a sorcery staff and his weapon. A similar, but thinner, belt crossed his torso diagonally. Black pants were barely visible beneath his coat, as his dark boots went halfway up his thighs. Both hands bore leather gloves, though the left was much thicker while the right was topped with a steel gauntlet. Black cloth wrapped about wherever his head wasn't covered by his mask, and atop his head was a black tricorn hat. His weapon, an old relic called the Crescent Moon blade, was a curved sword, which curved like its namesake, and whose teal metal was fashioned in a manner lost to time, and able to channel lunar energy to unleash in small waves in the same manner as the Moonlight Greatsword. He'd also seemed to have forgone the use of his small, iron round-shield from the Eastern kingdoms, and in lieu of an ordinary sorcery staff, he'd appropriated the catalyst of the long-since turned-into-a-man-grub Yellowfinger Heysel. The strange, short, slightly golden warpick with a wickedly sharp point acted as a weapon and means for casting sorcery both, and had given Vyliria no end of troubles on the occasions the Finger of Rosaria had chosen to invade her.
Creighton the Wanderer was a man from the long-gone land of Mirrah, who apparently had a long and bloody feud with Patches. Additionally, what evidence she'd gathered suggested that he'd been a murderer before he was cursed, and the kingdom he hailed from had issued a bounty for his head. The man wore a steel mask welded to a domed helm made of the same metal, not because he was disfigured, but because it was a mask issued by his countrymen when they had briefly captured him, marking him as a man condemned to death. After his violent escape, he'd continued to wear the headgear, because it had evidently amused him. A blue cape, tattered at the bottom and fastened to his collar by a chainmail gorget, trailed from his shoulders down to his ankles. From head to toe, he was clad in a silver-hued chainmail, the monotony of his garb only broken by a slightly darker gray tunic, which bore some leather belts at his waist, and the front was adorned by a white, cracked deer skull, the coat of arms of Mirrah. Held in his grasp was a dragonslayer axe, another storied weapon, crafted to slay wyrmkin, yet used by Creighton to kill men. It was a hand-and-a-half axe, the back of the head coming to a wickedly sharp, slightly curved point, and the front of which had a long vertical length, also slightly curved.
Leonhard stopped clapping, and that smug voice Vyliria already wanted to murder (again) began to speak. "Well, well, well. It took you long enough to figure it out."
"Leonhard. Creighton. Rosaria is gone. Why are you even here?"
"I have my own reasons," Leonhard drawled out. "And those aren't for you to learn."
"And Creighton wants to kill Patches," Vyliria deadpanned.
"Every second that bastard draws breath is an insult after what he did to me," the exile spat.
"I'd say to let go of your godsdamned grudge, but that would make me a hypocrite," the Irithyllian responded.
"Uh, you know these people?" Ruby whispered.
"Be silent, whelp, the adults are talking," Leonhard told the girl.
"Hey! I drink milk!" the red reaper protested, before wilting as everyone present, including Vyliria herself, turned to deadpan at her.
"I'm not going to waste time inquiring how in Izalith you managed to get a darkwraith to do your bidding," Vyliria brought the parley back on track. "In the interest of not engaging in what will likely be dozens of fights to the death over the coming weeks and months, I'll offer you one chance to leave this city and never return." She raised a hand before Leonhard could respond. "I know you won't take it, but I figured it was worth a shot. Can never be completely certain about something, after all."
Leonhard gave a harumph, and the Irithyllian could feel his eyes rolling behind his mask. Begrudgingly, he said, "I'll concede that point to you, but all the same, you really aren't in a position to negotiate, Darkmoon."
Vyliria shrugged. "Then I just want to let it be known, the both of you are a right fucking pain in my arse."
"Rest assured, that feeling is mutual," Creighton replied.
Vyliria kept her gaze on her foes, and spoke to her side. "Stall Leonhard- the one with the hat," she preemptively clarified, "Don't risk yourselves going on the offensive, just keep him occupied; the man has centuries of experience in combat at the least. I'll deal with Creighton and then join you to actually put him down. If I perish, take Qrow and flee immediately. Your lives aren't worth your pride or avenging me when my actual body won't even die."
Leonhard gave a solitary chuckle, brandishing his blade and shifting his stance, as Creighton echoed the movement. "As if these children will even be worth the dirt beneath my boots against me."
Vyliria grinned. "It would seem that your information isn't up to date then."
The slight tightening of his grasp on the Crescent Moon blade clued her into his annoyance. "And what knowledge of the current era would make a difference in this fight, might I ask?"
Vyliria tensed her legs, and spoke one last time before lunging forth. "Phantoms don't have aura."
The swing she'd aimed at Creighton's neck was blocked by the haft of his axe, before his free hand went to his back, and retrieved a high-caliber pistol, levying the firearm at her face. The Irithyllian jerked her head, biting down a scream from the burning pain as the round went through her check and exited her neck an inch from her spine. She lifted her left hand from her glaive, pressing her palm into her foe's stomach, seeing his eyes widen behind his mask in the fraction of a second that passed before she reduced a good chunk of his abdomen to pulped meat from a quick cast of black flame. They both stumbled away from each other, though the Mirrannite put another round into her left thigh as she did so. Gritting her teeth from the pain, she dug the bullet out with her fingers, downing a sip of estus to take care of her wounds as Creighton did the same. With both combatant's wounds healed, they went right back into the fray, Vyliria tossing a hand behind her to launch herself into the air via the recoil of the fires of humanity, spinning her halberd to transition into an overhead strike. Firearm remaining holstered since he'd gone for his estus flask, Creighton thumbed a button on his axe, and with the grind of mechanical gears, the shaft of the axe grew by several feet, even as he gripped the weapon with both hands and raised it overhead. Scorched titanite met the industrially forged segmented steel of the recently mechashift-enhanced weapon, and he shifted his guard to the side to toss the Irithyllian away from him. Vyliria hit the ground with a roll, yet as soon as she came out of it, she used her pyromancy to launch herself right back at the Mirrannite, swinging for his legs, only for him to block it with the head of his battleaxe at the last moment. Undeterred, the Darkmoon pressed on with her offensive, and in the span of two seconds, their weapons met with a ringing of metal thrice more, before she spun her glaive overhead and attempted to get above his guard. One hand reached back for his pistol, and the lateral swing aimed for his head was pushed aside by the barrel of the weapon, Vyliria being forced to release one of the hands on the polearm, barely pushing it away from her face before two gunshots rang out, her ears ringing from the close proximity of the discharges. The sound of steel segments shifting led her to leap back, just in time for the once-more shortened dragonslayer axe to carve a gash into her torso rather than cut her in half, electricity crackling along the weapon as it did so.
This time, she failed to reign in the scream of agony from the wound, dropping her weapon to move her right hand to the wound to hold her intestines in (not because she had to, strictly speaking, but that if they spilled out, she could trip on them, and that really wouldn't help her in this scenario), but she still fought to turn the situation to her advantage. Correct in her assumption that her foe would press the attack, she grinned through her pain, Izalith staff coming into her free hand just in time to cast a soul greatsword that severed his right hand, Creighton letting out a scream of his own, even as he caught his weapon with his other hand and staggered away to avoid another melee strike. Unfortunately for him, her shaking arm leveled to blast a hole straight through his chest with a crystal soul spear, the only reason that the Mirrannite didn't scream again being that he now lacked the lungs to do so. Both combatants went for their estus again, nearly draining their flasks to heal the grievous injuries they'd dealt to one another. Just as she retrieved her weapons, Creighton leveled his gun at her once more, and she was forced to spin the glaive to block each time he fired at her, even as he circled around to his severed hand just as the weapon ran dry. Scooping the appendage up after holstering his pistol, he pressed the severed flesh to his bleeding wrist using the crook of his other arm, finishing his estus flask entirely as flames washed across him to reattach it to his body. The two took a second to stare one another down, neither making a move, and Vyliria took the opportunity to steal a thought for herself. Drained his flask first, and I probably have one or two sips left in mine. Not ideal, but still doing better than him. Now I just need to end this so I can get to Leonhard, while not slipping up in the process.
Evidently, Creighton had mislead her when he stopped firing, because he had one round left in his weapon, which had snapped back up before he sent the bullet straight into and through her kneecap, charging her as she dropped to one knee, extending his weapon in one hand as he ejected the spent magazine from his pistol before he holsted it. She blocked an overhead strike with the head of her glaive, twisting the battleaxe to the side, before discarding her weapon, grabbing Creighton's wrist and lunging forwards, calling a kukri to hand and jabbing the blade into his throat before ripping it out. She tumbled to the ground, letting go of the machete, rolling to the side to avoid another strike from the dragonslayer (battle)axe, calling Gael's repeating crossbow to hand and letting loose with a barrage of explosive bolts to force the Mirrannite to back off or eat automatic crossbow-fire. He chose the former, giving her time to finish her estus flask off, grimacing even as the injury to her knee was erased by flames. She sprung back to her feet, replacing the crossbow with her Izalith staff, snapping a quintet of crystal homing soulmass into reality before pointing her staff at her discarded weapon. Creighton, ignoring the blood spurting from his torn throat, silently sidestepped the sorcery, but the delay gave her enough time to use a golden sorcery to send her Black Knight glaive flying back to her hands, the Mirrannite not having realized she'd done so until the weapon was back in her hands and deflecting his swing. Taking advantage of his surprise, Vyliria shouted as she thrust the glaive forwards, punching the weapon straight into his already-ruined throat before ripping it out. Stepping forwards, she hooked a leg around his and yanked him from his feet, spinning her glaive as she built her momentum for one final swing, this one finishing the job of taking his head off.
She took a couple of seconds to greedily suck down air she didn't actually need, force of habit prevailing even after all this time, before sparing a glance to verify that the corpse was fading. Her estus refilled slightly from having slain the phantom, and she felt another Proof of Concord Kept entering her storage, but she was already wholeheartedly diverting her attention towards the next fight to be had. The scream of pain she'd just heard meant that she'd already taken far too long.
(Ruby)
The red reaper remained cautious as she approached Leonhard, even as she was flanked to either side by Neo and Ilia. The invader just huffed in amusement, which quickly transitioned into a full chuckle.
"Oh? You're approaching me?" the man taunted. "In spite of the fact that Avalon told you that you can't win, you still choose to fight against someone millennia your superior, children?"
"I can't beat the shit out of you for what you've done without getting closer!" Ilia fired back.
"Then by all means," Leonhard replied, settling into a combat stance, "Come as close as you'd like!"
With a shout, the faunus girl leapt forwards, weapon poised to stab his heart, yet he twirled around the blade effortlessly, his pick lashing out as he spun, a soul greatsword coalescing into being and slicing into Ilia's aura as the girl cried out in pain. Without even turning to look at her, Leonhard then flicked the pick to the side, pushing Crescent Rose out of its path towards hitting him, before it glowed blue and a crystal soul spear clipped Ruby despite her trying to use her semblance to get out of the way. She hit the ground in a tumble but managed to end up on her feet, just in time to see him swing his sickle-like sword, a crescent of moonlight firing out and hitting Neo, who merely shattered, before he raised the arm holding it to block the swing from the actual Neo that was aimed at his head.
"An annoying gimmick," the man stated in an even tone, as if not even viewing his three opponents as an actual threat. "I can see why Avalon holds a distaste for illusions."
Ruby didn't bother with a response, instead planting the blade of her weapon to act as a monopod as she fired at Leonhard. His crescent blade blocked the first two shots, but getting struck across the back by the rapier-whip Ilia had distracted him enough that he failed to block another round aimed at his right arm. It punched through the leather, but sparks came from the impact, and it didn't even seem to have that much effect on said arm's owner to begin with. She noticed the grip on his sword loosen, but he still held on to the weapon. Neo rushed him, and he whipped around, his pick pushing Hush aside before the glowing blue darts of a Farron hail blasted into the heterochromatic, knocking her to the floor. He shifted again, crossing his weapons to catch the whip aimed at him, pinning it in place long enough to pull, yanking Ilia towards him, whereupon he transitioned into a roundhouse kick to the side of her head, the girl's aura flaring from the beating she'd been taking, and even as he came out of the kick, his sword arm launched another crescent of magic at Ruby, forcing her to move. At lightning speeds, an estus flask was produced from the man's coat, and a sip was taken, Ruby's dismay rising about him having undone any progress they had made in the second she'd been unable to keep pressuring him.
Ruby and Neo rushed him, and he threw out both his weapons to intercept their own, only for both girls to shatter on impact, now coming towards his (however briefly) unguarded back and front. Yet the man merely demonstrated an absurd amount of flexibility, bending backwards and then flipping out of the way so that the two were now on a collision course. Unfortunately for him, Ruby Petal Burst into two clouds that went around Neo, and the other girl recovered and changed her direction in a second. Ruby zipped in from above, resuming a corporeal form, but he merely crossed his blades and threw his arms open to drive her weapon away. Undeterred, Ruby angled the spike on the bottom of Crescent Rose (when in scythe form) towards him and fired a round to launch herself right back. He rolled out of the way like he had known she was going to do it- stupid centuries of experince in combat -stepping back from a strike from Neo so that a swing aimed to disembowel the man merely drew a thin line of spectral blood, before thrusting his pick-bearing arm out, a crsytal soul spear forcing Ilia to abort her own planned attack with a hasty roll, which was followed by another two flips to dodge a pair of soul arrows. Even while he fired magic at one opponent with one weapon, his crescent sword intercepted three strikes from Neo with the other, and when ruby went to sprint at him, he shifted his left arm to point his catalyst at the floor and towards her, firing out a small, quick stream of blue magic that caused a chain of crystals to shoot out from the ground in her direction. Not knowing what the spell was, she dodged out of the way, but even as she did so, he cast another soul greatsword to force Neo to jump back, before twisting to launch a crescent of moonlight at Ilia, who threw herself to the side to dodge… just in time to be hit by the crystal soul spear Leonhard had fired as a followup.
Already thrashed about pretty bad by the darkwraith, and then hit a few times by Leonhard to boot, this proved the final straw for the girl's aura, and she landed on her back as it fizzled out like a gray mist around her. He snapped a quintet of crystalline soulmasses into being, which shot at Neo and forced her to dodge, before turning back to his weakened target. Ilia was already scrambling to her feet, eyes wide, but Leonhard was also already moving, almost as fast as the darkwraith as he closed the distance. His sword almost lazily pushed her own weapon out of the way, and then his pick descended. Ruby froze, eyes widening in horror as the point punched into her shoulder, and kept sinking in. Ilia dropped her weapon, arm going slack as she cried out in pain, and Leonhard raised his other weapon to swing for her neck, only to stop and twist as Vyliria sprinted in with a shriek of rage. He grunted as her glaive punched into one of his lungs, but swung the back of his sword at the Irithyllian, who backstepped away and removed the blood-coated tip of her weapon as she did so. Ruby also heard a lot of footsteps getting closer, but forced herself to keep an eye on the bad guy in front of her.
He tensed his legs to begin a sprint towards the Irithyllian, only to turn again, pick turning aside a jab from Myrtenaster, as Weiss sped in the aid of a glyph. He made to swing his sword at her, and the girl's eyes widened, but when it made contact with her she shattered into glass. Ruby's eyes snapped to Neo, who had her hand on the shoulder of the red reaper's disoriented partner, and then she turned back to the enemy, and put a round directly into his leg. He fell to one knee with a shout of pain, just in time to be outdone by a much louder shout as Yang blasted herself forwards with Ember Celicia, fist on fire and cocked back for a punch. He raised his pick to fire a spell at her, only for Gambol Shroud to wrap about the weapon and pull it to the side, and a black gravity glyph to snap into being around his sword arm, freezing it in place. Yang's fist connected to the man's mask, and without aura, the resultant explosion and impact reduced his head to a spray of blood, skull fragments, and gray-matter that fanned backwards, splattering all over Vyliria, who looked less than amused by that, even as the the corpse of the phantom began to dissipate. Seconds later, Patches and Sun came around the corner, followed by roughly a dozen Menagerie guards, only to freeze upon what they saw.
Yang didn't. "Ruby!" she shouted, bolting for her sister and scooping her up in a hug.
"I'm fine Yang," she said despite the sensation of having her lungs crushed by her sibling, feeling like she was forgetting something very important.
Yang pulled back. "Ruby, if you ever-" And then Ruby remembered.
"Uncle Qrow!" she shouted.
That stopped Yang. "What?" Her surprise increased further, and rapidly morphed to fear as shards of pink glass rippled along a stretch of ground a stone's throw away, revealing the prone form of their uncle, skin ashen in hue, and a grimace of pain on his face.
"Ahem," Vyliria interrupted them.
"Vyliria?!" Yang shouted.
She raised a hand. "I literally don't have time for this, so shut up." She waited a second to make sure everyone complied, before turning to the guards, and pointing at Ilia, who even now was clutching her shoulder and whimpering as she bled on the floor. "She needs medical attention now." Two guards rushed to her to provide it, and the Irithyllian ignored Blake's startled cry of "Ilia?!" even as she began to take steps towards the girl. She turned to Ruby. "Did the darkwraith drain Qrow?"
"Y-yes," Ruby got out, "But it didn't get through his aura."
Vyliria snorted. "Bastard should count himself lucky then; his soul most likely shielded his humanity, even if only for a few seconds, and despite however much pain he went through, that's probably the only reason he's still with us. He'll still need some care."
Not a second later, from the other side of the street, a squad of White Fang soldiers rounded the corner, likely finally attracted by the gunfire. The stopped, raising their guns at the scene of a known member injured, and the armed combatants present, among which was a Schnee. This prompted the Menagerie guard to level their own weapons, and the humans (and Blake and Patches) to raise theirs as well.
"Stop!" Ilia croaked out, and thankfully they froze. "They helped… drive off the murderers."
The Fang members slowly lowered their weapons, and one of them spoke. "As you wish, Sister Amitola."
"Ilia?" Blake asked again, and even as the chameleon faunus uncomfortably looked to Blake, clearly not content with the circumstances behind this encounter, Vyliria cut in again. "I really don't have time for this!"
Ruby turned back to her, but Weiss asked before she could, "Are you… transparent?"
"Trans-what?" Ruby asked.
"See-through, dolt!" the ex-heiress replied.
"Oooh… Hey!"
"Yes, so everyone shut up because I don't have time now that the invaders are banished, because I am literally fading back to my physical body now!" She took a breath, seeming to literally start to fade before their eyes. She turned to Patches. "A darkwraith. It's drained 64 people now." Patches grimaced. "You saw Leonhard. Creighton's here as well." Patches bit out a curse. "They're working with it." Patches cursed again. Qrow coughed, and began to stir, and Ruby and Yang rushed over to him. She spoke louder, to ensure that her whole team, Patches, Sun and Neo heard. I really need to come up with a team name, Ruby thought. "Banishing the invaders violently like we did didn't actually kill them, and will only stop them from making another attempt for a handful of days at most, and that's if they don't just choose to attack in person in the interim. It isn't as if dying will particularly hamper Leonhard or Creighton even if they're in their physical bodies." It was now easier to see what was behind Vyliria than to see the woman herself. "You'll all need to work together when they come back for another attempt, though I'll do my best to come in to aid you as a Blade when it happens," she addressed everyone present, including the White Fang.
Qrow cracked his eyes open, and Vyliria turned to gaze at them. Ruby could just barely see the grin that was suddenly on her face. "Oh, by the way, I met and fought Yang's mom. She's in charge of a tribe of bandits, and she's also a Maiden. What the Izalith are the odds?" And then Ruby blinked, and Vyliria was gone. Silence reigned unopposed for a few long seconds.
Qrow Branwen's jaw was slack, but out of everyone present, he managed to find his voice first. "I am not drunk enough for this," he stated, and for once Ruby couldn't find it in herself to complain as his shaking hands moved his flask to his lips.
()
A/N: Darkwraiths don't fuck around. One-on-one, it stood a fairly good chance of beating Vyliria. In fact, going by darkwraith lore, it would have won a 1v1 with just about everyone in the main cast. Patches and Vyl stand decent odds, and I'll throw Adam a homeward bone and say that Moonslice could 1-shot a darkwraith if he catches the thing by surprise with it, but just about everyone else on Menagerie would be dead in a fight with it. Though while the darkwraith could handle three moderately skilled opponents with relative easse, when faced with a four-man gank (one member of which is a Blade of the Darkmoon), all it takes is one mistake, and then you get blendered to death by R1-spam… right, not in-game… All it takes is one mistake, and then you lose an arm, get your spinal cord severed by Best Girl Neo, and then get the business end of a Black Knight glaive shoved into your skull through your eye-socket.
Vyliria is quite understandably pissed by Ruby's actions, because they weren't thought through at all, and nearly got her and three other people killed, and it didn't even accomplish anything lasting because they only killed an invader. Speaking of, there's some in-universe explanations for how invasions/summons work, and more will be given upon Vyliria's return to VAAPPR.
Before anyone asks, the reason there wasn't an invasion chime for Leonhard and Creighton is because they arrived at the same time as the darkwraith, and were just lurking and observing until they butted in.
So is it just me, or does Leonhard's set totally look like it came straight outta Bloodborne? Like, give the man a blunderbuss and a threaded cane, and he'd look like he came straight outta Yharnam. (Please Fromsoft make a non-PS-Exclusive Remaster of Bloodborne with 60FPS I fucking beg of you, even if performance optimizations would mean that the CUMMMMPFK dungeon exploit would no longer work, I'd be fine doing Mergot's Pig-Fisting Route if I could just actually fucking play Bloodborne on my Xbox)
Patches has drawn a LOT of breaths since Dark Souls 2. Like, if every second is an insult, he'd have basically insulted Creighton infinity times. Now, from what I looked up from the Black Sheep of the Soulsborne series, aka Dark Souls 2, a familiar bald bastard we all know and love/hate at the same time bumped into this man in Drangleic, and showed him to a room full of treasure. Pate claimed that Creighton walked into a trap after going despite his warning of danger, and then the door to the room with the trap locked him out, while Creighton claims that Pate tricked him into the trap on purpose and then left him to die. Just from what we know from DS2, I'm not going to weigh in on who was actually right. But with the added context of The Ringed City dlc for DS3, it seems that Patches' purpose, his means to avoid hollowing, is to punish the greed of others, so this is what I think happened:
Pate told Creighton of the treasure in the room and the danger, and when he instantly went for it without any real caution and triggered the trap, Pate/Patches left the man from Mirrah to his fate, since he'd proven his greed and he should lie in the grave he dug. Creighton is justifiably pissed, especially since in this timeline the Bearer of the Curse sided with Pate, though Pate didn't directly do anything to try and get Creighton killed, he merely pointed a direction to go and let the man seal his own fate. So neither man was right in that scenario. Creighton somewhat warms up to the player if you choose to help him in DS2, but it's clearly hinted towards him being a murderer sentenced to death and a deserter before he came to Drangleic, and he went on to become a Finger of Rosaria, while Pate… kept doing what he always did, and played the part of an asshole with a heart of gold. So Creighton might not have been a bad guy in the specific timeframe we knew him in DS2, but he certainly became one by the time we get to DS3 (and was also, you know, a murderer before we meet him in DS2, hence why I specified "the specific timeframe we knew him in DS2").
Ruby's little "I drink milk!" protest was entirely spur-of-the-moment, but I thought it would be funny, so it made it in.
There is absolutely animosity between Vyliria and the no-longer-Fingers of Rosaria. It's just that they've been literally murdering each other for so long that outright murderous rage is rather difficult to kindle, so they can at least hold a semi-civil conversation before the next bout to the death, since all parties involved know that they're all stubborn enough pricks that it won't stick either way.
Creighton has not only picked up a pistol, but has also gotten some mechashift on the dragonslayer axe… which is now also a one-sided battleaxe. Also, Vyliria used to be an adventurer like you, then Creighton put a desert eagle (not saying the pistol is actually a Deagle or a Remnant analogue to it) round through her knee. Thankfully, estus means she won't have to be a city guard for the rest of her unlife.
I really couldn't help myself with the Jojo reference. I don't care if it's OOC for Leonhard or not. Also, the man picked up the Heysel Pick, getting quite an upgrade from his old sorcery staff. He also picked up better sorceries, and quite a few of them as well.
I could not find Ilia's aura color (if it even was disclosed in canon), so I'm just going with gray. Don't like it? Too bad, it matches her eyes, and I like the contrast it has to her faunus ability. She can change the color of her skin however she wants, yet her soul is a uniform gray. And that darkwraith did beat the crap out of her, on top of a few other hits from Leonhard. Ilia doesn't strike me as a big player in terms of PVP. She didn't finish combat school, never went to an academy, and despite being in the White Fang, many of her missions were more focused on infiltration than outright combat, with an emphasis on quick takedowns against unsuspecting targets rather than protracted combat against a strong opponent. So while she's good enough to deal with the average SDC security guard or Atlesian droid, she doesn't really hold up to snuff when compared to an actual huntsman or even some Grimm (obviously she could handle a beowolf, but a pack of them? An Ursa Major, or King Taijitu, etc?), nevermind an eon-old abomination or a living corpse with centuries of combat experience. Of the three people who went to fight him, she's undoubtedly the weakest, already has her aura more drained than the other two, and she doesn't have a semblance that lets her dodge attacks very easily (or a semblance to begin with). She's the weak link, and so Leonhard exploits this, and breaks her aura and then tries to kill her, and almost succeeds before Vyliria intervenes, and the cavalry arrive seconds later.
And on the Winged Hussars arriving to save Vienna from the Ottomans (ie: Patches, Sun, and WBY): Typically in a story where a conflict that escalates the stakes like this did occurs, the cavalry will only arrive at the last possible second (like Vyliria did), for dramatic buildup, or arrive just after the conflict is resolved, much to the victorious combatants' annoyance. I decided to subvert that with an anticlimax, and so the cavalry arrived to gank the everloving Izalith out of Leonhard just as Vyliria had finally turned her attention to him. Is it kinda a letdown for those who were looking forward to a fight between Leonhard and Vyliria? Yes, but I wanted to break the archetype that usually occurs for fights like this, and besides that, I've been stuck grinding my way through this chapter with like one paragraph written a week, for over two months now, and I need to get on with the story. I haven't even gotten to the Nuckelavee yet, for Gwyn's sake.
And then Vyliria gave a last-minute address to try and prep everyone for the next invasion, before spending her last ten seconds in Menagerie trolling Qrow.