Razael was fighting his life's most harrowing battle. His body was surrounded by a golden light, his long hair flowing behind him like a cape, but his majestic look was distorted by the multiple wounds on his body, by his rapid breathing, and by the fact his enemy mainly looked uninjured. No matter what they did, the Undead simply shrugged it off. It took a little time to realize that he… or by the voice, she was expelling a precise amount of dark miasma from her body, countering the incoming force. She did so every time she was attacked and managed to perfectly match the incoming spell, nullifying it before it could touch her.
"The gap is too big…" He groaned inside, knowing this was a fight he could not win. His strength was great; he had support from the other ancestors from his family, still battling and fighting against her in rotation… but it would be them who ran out of mana first and not the Undead. She was waiting for that moment… Now he understood why Reyra brought everybody with her when Loonah appeared. Only with overwhelming numbers could someone below the 9th Tier stand up to someone equaling an Ascendri.
Down below, on the ground, the armies slowly managed to regroup and were trying to retreat, but they were surrounded. The Undead's numbers were constantly rising, more and more coming out from the fallen city, circling them. It was a trap that had been sprung, and it clamped down on their legs… hard.
"Where are you looking?" Yuya laughed, appearing close to Razael, moving faster than ever. He had barely any time to try and dodge, but Yuya's hand still stabbed into his sides, blasting Razael's defenses apart like nothing. "Hehe, gotcha!" What was weird was that there was no blood or any actual injury, but the pain was worse than if there had been. Yuya's hand that stabbed into his body was unnatural and came out from her stomach, belonging to her real self. It was grabbing onto not flesh but Razael's soul, trying to pull him out of the body. "Come out, come out! I need your body, pretty boy!"
"Then come and get it!" He groaned, grabbing Yuya's shoulders and headbutting her.
It was done so with such force and followed by such a powerful blast of mana behind it that, for the first time, Yuya failed to react to it adequately. Her whole head was blown to smithereens, but she wasn't letting go of Razael's soul, slowly starting to drag it out while her voice echoed in his head.
"My current body is worthless… destroy it! Go ahead! Flounder before me, little Amarin! I am starting to get wet! I love it when people struggle against the inevitable!" She cackled like a maniac, her 'claws' nabbing into Razael's soul.
On the ground, Solren wasn't having it any easier. In their duel, even though he ranked above Killieth in the mastery of the blade, he wasn't stronger than him. The fact that the Undead could endlessly regenerate was a problem, and now, as their battle raged on, he was getting used to his moves. Even though he couldn't stop Solren from executing them, he could prevent the blade from reaching his body… just like his sister did against Razael.
"You are getting slower," Killieth exclaimed with a savage grin, managing to dodge two of Solren's slashes before gaining some distance.
None of them showed the signs of fatigue, but both of them knew Killieth was right. Solren, despite breathing normally, was getting tired. Moves that were perfect before were now getting slower and slower. His golden light, which used to blind, burn, and weaken his enemy, was getting countered more and more… he was losing the battle of attrition. Worse… his own forces were being cut off from retreat. They were losing the battle.
The moment that thought appeared in his mind, an otherworldly roar traveled from the distance, stopping every Undead in their steps for a brief moment. Both Killieth and Yuya flinched, knowing that sound. It was ingrained into their souls. Hurryingly, the two abandoned their battles, retreating, surprising Razael and Solren that they were giving them a chance to regroup. Instead of pursuing, the brothers' sole focus was on gathering their forces and trying to break out from the encirclement of Undead before they changed their minds.
"What… is that?" A soldier asked, unable to mask his confusion and amazement. From the north, something was parting the clouds apart as it moved; whatever it was, it was massive.
"It can't be…" Razael gasped, feeling weak and pain coursing through his body because of the injury to his soul. Yet even then, he couldn't help but grin; seeing the figure of a dragon flying towards them was unmistakable. He read so many stories about the black dragon, the sworn brother of his ancestor, that he knew who he was seeing.
"Damn it…" Yuya cursed as she had never fought against Arcus but knew the dragon had killed multiple Supreme Elders… Precisely those people whose rank was now bestowed upon them.
"We miscalculated this." Killieth looked at his sister. "Come, we need to stop him from laying waste on our current forces! He will retreat with the fleshbound as even if he is a dragon, he can't kill us both!"
"Tsk!"
Yuya didn't like it, but she still followed his brother's instructions. The two were already in the air while Arcus's crimson, furious eyes locked onto them at once. He didn't speak or flinch, only opened his humongous mouth, and dark, black flames burst out, bathing the landscape in it. They were the famous, everlasting flames that appeared so many times in the past when Erias and Arcus combined their powers. The fact that he now summoned them all alone caught the duo of Supreme Elders off-guard. Yuya could not dodge in time, her physical body catching aflame, and even her regeneration couldn't deal with Arcus's flames.
After falling to the ground, she quickly escaped the burning body. Still, even her soul caught on fire while doing so, forcing her to shed a big part of it, sacrificing much of her power before occupying another Undead body. She wasn't kind when doing so, immediately consuming her subordinate, looking up at the sky with fear and anger mixing in her green eyes. Her brother didn't fare much better; he had to cut off his arm, and to his horror, it wasn't regenerating.
With a swipe of his tail, Arcus sent Killieth plummeting toward the ground, leaving a crater behind while he himself aimed at the city, setting it ablaze with black fire, destroying the green energy pillar in the process. Circling above the battlefield, he swooped down multiple times, swatting dozens of Undead each time, killing them in droves… but Killieth was right. He wasn't staying. He was buying time and opening a chance for the armies to retreat.
"Stop!" Killieth ordered, seeing her sister wanting to fly up and engage him once again.
"But Big Brother! He is laying waste to our forces!"
"So what?!" He snorted, watching it happening, "Our overall victory is what matters! We can fight him, lose most of our power, and weaken ourselves… no! Let him bring the fleshborn army away. So be it! We still won this fight! The House of Berison will fall, and while they regroup, we fortify ourselves! Don't forget the Sect Master's orders! A constant conflict and steady stream of death are what we want… not a momentary triumph!"
Yuya was still disgruntled, but in the end, she remained by her brother's side. He was right… they had won already; the dragon was here only to save what remained of the initial army.
…
….
……
Only a few hours later, all the other fronts and the armies of the Houses retreated outside of the Berisons' territory. It was a sour pill to swallow as no matter what anyone said, it was a complete defeat for them. Undead infiltrated their ranks, betraying them and now raising suspicion between the positions of the Houses. Were there still agents hidden in their armies? Cities? Another ambush at the corner, waiting for the right time? It was a mess; the worst thing was they had no time to worry about it. The invasion of the House of Berison was still ongoing, and they had to regroup and help them.
"I want everybody we can spare to come here!" Reyra shouted, standing in a tent, looking at a map with multiple lines drawn on it, points of interest crossed out, circled in, looking like the workings of a rambling madman; it was hard to make sense of it. "I want to know how many we lost, who we lost, and I want a report from EVERYBODY, down to the individual squad leaders!"
"My Lady…" A young soldier walked in, looking exhausted, but his face glowing with reverence. "They are here…"
"Lead them in!" Reyra answered, snapping her head up, watching Arcus walk in, looking just like the images of Erias, only with jet-black hair. He was followed by two others, a woman clad in gold, with a head full of crimson hair and a pair of burning eyes. Next to her came another man, wearing a pure white robe with similarly white hair and silver eyes.
"Your smell reminds me of Erias…" Arcus chuckled, looking at Reyra, who quickly bowed her head, paying her respect to the three dragons.
"She does, doesn't she? Only she is… extremely tiny." The white one chuckled while the golden remained silent.
"Your sons are fine." Arcus patted her head, feeling Reyra's body relax a little. Many of the forces were still only coming back, and not all news was good. Both Dalal and Kaznak were injured, the former lying unconscious right now in another tent, unsure if she would survive until tomorrow. Not to mention… she still couldn't contact Lia and her group since all of this started.
"What about the Berisons?" The golden-clad woman asked, but Arcus raised a hand, silencing her.
"First, introductions!" He looked over his shoulder, warning the woman to behave. "As you know, I am Arcus, he is Tolemia." The dragon continued, pointing at the white-robed man first, "And she is Neesa. Our fourth partner is Albert, but he can't leave the island, so excuse his absence."
"It is an honor. My name is Reyra Amarin!” She replied, slowly getting back up from her bow.
"We know. Now… as Neesa asked… What about the Berisons?" Arcus asked more kindly than her, making the dragon simply roll her eyes.
"We don't know. Those green energy pillars are blocking all communication!" Reyra grunted, walking back to the map and showing them all they knew about. "What we can tell is that they are set up in a circle, going through their territory! We can't tell how much of the Berisons' army has suffered or how many of them turned, but they should still have a sizable force in their capital region. Our plan is to amass a force, big enough to move in and either catch the Undead from two sides… or open up a passage so we can evacuate the survivors."
"The survivors can't be trusted." Neesa shook her head solemnly. "I will burn all of them! Same with the cities that were attacked this time! They can't be trusted!"
"Not yet!" Tolemia argued, "This is not even the end game! Reign in your hatred, Neesa! Four thousand years of hibernation should have curbed your edges a little!"
"Enough!" Arcus raised his voice, sounding like thunder, "We will provide support." He nodded at Reyra, "But Neesa is right. The rescued can't be trusted. Appoint a region on Meriath that will be where we put every survivor of the war! They must be isolated and arranged into small pockets that we can oversee! The slightest clue of them behaving strangely… Neesa will purge them."
"I… Understand." Reyra nodded, not arguing.
"Where is Lia? I want to meet with her!"
Arcus's sudden, jovial, and happy voice surprised Reyra, especially as the other two dragons also looked curious and interested in her. Yet, seeing the change in her expression, they knew something had happened.
"She was on a mission, and we lost contact. She should be still alive… we just don't know how the situation is at her end."
"I see…" Arcus furrowed his brows, scanning the map, "Point me to where you saw them last. I will go and look!"
"You will?" Asked not just Reyra but the other dragons, too.
"Of course!" Arcus smiled, slapping his chest, "That girl must live! If I must sacrifice my own life to protect hers, then so be it!"
That alone was more surprising for the other two than for Reyra. Arcus named only one other person like that in his whole life… and it was his sworn brother.
Corty Safe? For now? Or is this the calm before the storm?
Razael was fighting his life's most harrowing battle. His body was surrounded by a golden light, his long hair flowing behind him like a cape, but his majestic look was distorted by the multiple wounds on his body, by his rapid breathing, and by the fact his enemy mainly looked uninjured. No matter what they did, the Undead simply shrugged it off. It took a little time to realize that he… or by the voice, she was expelling a precise amount of dark miasma from her body, countering the incoming force. She did so every time she was attacked and managed to perfectly match the incoming spell, nullifying it before it could touch her.
"The gap is too big…" He groaned inside, knowing this was a fight he could not win. His strength was great; he had support from the other ancestors from his family, still battling and fighting against her in rotation… but it would be them who ran out of mana first and not the Undead. She was waiting for that moment… Now he understood why Reyra brought everybody with her when Loonah appeared. Only with overwhelming numbers could someone below the 9th Tier stand up to someone equaling an Ascendri.
Down below, on the ground, the armies slowly managed to regroup and were trying to retreat, but they were surrounded. The Undead's numbers were constantly rising, more and more coming out from the fallen city, circling them. It was a trap that had been sprung, and it clamped down on their legs… hard.
"Where are you looking?" Yuya laughed, appearing close to Razael, moving faster than ever. He had barely any time to try and dodge, but Yuya's hand still stabbed into his sides, blasting Razael's defenses apart like nothing. "Hehe, gotcha!" What was weird was that there was no blood or any actual injury, but the pain was worse than if there had been. Yuya's hand that stabbed into his body was unnatural and came out from her stomach, belonging to her real self. It was grabbing onto not flesh but Razael's soul, trying to pull him out of the body. "Come out, come out! I need your body, pretty boy!"
"Then come and get it!" He groaned, grabbing Yuya's shoulders and headbutting her.
It was done so with such force and followed by such a powerful blast of mana behind it that, for the first time, Yuya failed to react to it adequately. Her whole head was blown to smithereens, but she wasn't letting go of Razael's soul, slowly starting to drag it out while her voice echoed in his head.
"My current body is worthless… destroy it! Go ahead! Flounder before me, little Amarin! I am starting to get wet! I love it when people struggle against the inevitable!" She cackled like a maniac, her 'claws' nabbing into Razael's soul.
On the ground, Solren wasn't having it any easier. In their duel, even though he ranked above Killieth in the mastery of the blade, he wasn't stronger than him. The fact that the Undead could endlessly regenerate was a problem, and now, as their battle raged on, he was getting used to his moves. Even though he couldn't stop Solren from executing them, he could prevent the blade from reaching his body… just like his sister did against Razael.
"You are getting slower," Killieth exclaimed with a savage grin, managing to dodge two of Solren's slashes before gaining some distance.
None of them showed the signs of fatigue, but both of them knew Killieth was right. Solren, despite breathing normally, was getting tired. Moves that were perfect before were now getting slower and slower. His golden light, which used to blind, burn, and weaken his enemy, was getting countered more and more… he was losing the battle of attrition. Worse… his own forces were being cut off from retreat. They were losing the battle.
The moment that thought appeared in his mind, an otherworldly roar traveled from the distance, stopping every Undead in their steps for a brief moment. Both Killieth and Yuya flinched, knowing that sound. It was ingrained into their souls. Hurryingly, the two abandoned their battles, retreating, surprising Razael and Solren that they were giving them a chance to regroup. Instead of pursuing, the brothers' sole focus was on gathering their forces and trying to break out from the encirclement of Undead before they changed their minds.
"What… is that?" A soldier asked, unable to mask his confusion and amazement. From the north, something was parting the clouds apart as it moved; whatever it was, it was massive.
"It can't be…" Razael gasped, feeling weak and pain coursing through his body because of the injury to his soul. Yet even then, he couldn't help but grin; seeing the figure of a dragon flying towards them was unmistakable. He read so many stories about the black dragon, the sworn brother of his ancestor, that he knew who he was seeing.
"Damn it…" Yuya cursed as she had never fought against Arcus but knew the dragon had killed multiple Supreme Elders… Precisely those people whose rank was now bestowed upon them.
"We miscalculated this." Killieth looked at his sister. "Come, we need to stop him from laying waste on our current forces! He will retreat with the fleshbound as even if he is a dragon, he can't kill us both!"
"Tsk!"
Yuya didn't like it, but she still followed his brother's instructions. The two were already in the air while Arcus's crimson, furious eyes locked onto them at once. He didn't speak or flinch, only opened his humongous mouth, and dark, black flames burst out, bathing the landscape in it. They were the famous, everlasting flames that appeared so many times in the past when Erias and Arcus combined their powers. The fact that he now summoned them all alone caught the duo of Supreme Elders off-guard. Yuya could not dodge in time, her physical body catching aflame, and even her regeneration couldn't deal with Arcus's flames.
After falling to the ground, she quickly escaped the burning body. Still, even her soul caught on fire while doing so, forcing her to shed a big part of it, sacrificing much of her power before occupying another Undead body. She wasn't kind when doing so, immediately consuming her subordinate, looking up at the sky with fear and anger mixing in her green eyes. Her brother didn't fare much better; he had to cut off his arm, and to his horror, it wasn't regenerating.
With a swipe of his tail, Arcus sent Killieth plummeting toward the ground, leaving a crater behind while he himself aimed at the city, setting it ablaze with black fire, destroying the green energy pillar in the process. Circling above the battlefield, he swooped down multiple times, swatting dozens of Undead each time, killing them in droves… but Killieth was right. He wasn't staying. He was buying time and opening a chance for the armies to retreat.
"Stop!" Killieth ordered, seeing her sister wanting to fly up and engage him once again.
"But Big Brother! He is laying waste to our forces!"
"So what?!" He snorted, watching it happening, "Our overall victory is what matters! We can fight him, lose most of our power, and weaken ourselves… no! Let him bring the fleshborn army away. So be it! We still won this fight! The House of Berison will fall, and while they regroup, we fortify ourselves! Don't forget the Sect Master's orders! A constant conflict and steady stream of death are what we want… not a momentary triumph!"
Yuya was still disgruntled, but in the end, she remained by her brother's side. He was right… they had won already; the dragon was here only to save what remained of the initial army.
…
….
……
Only a few hours later, all the other fronts and the armies of the Houses retreated outside of the Berisons' territory. It was a sour pill to swallow as no matter what anyone said, it was a complete defeat for them. Undead infiltrated their ranks, betraying them and now raising suspicion between the positions of the Houses. Were there still agents hidden in their armies? Cities? Another ambush at the corner, waiting for the right time? It was a mess; the worst thing was they had no time to worry about it. The invasion of the House of Berison was still ongoing, and they had to regroup and help them.
"I want everybody we can spare to come here!" Reyra shouted, standing in a tent, looking at a map with multiple lines drawn on it, points of interest crossed out, circled in, looking like the workings of a rambling madman; it was hard to make sense of it. "I want to know how many we lost, who we lost, and I want a report from EVERYBODY, down to the individual squad leaders!"
"My Lady…" A young soldier walked in, looking exhausted, but his face glowing with reverence. "They are here…"
"Lead them in!" Reyra answered, snapping her head up, watching Arcus walk in, looking just like the images of Erias, only with jet-black hair. He was followed by two others, a woman clad in gold, with a head full of crimson hair and a pair of burning eyes. Next to her came another man, wearing a pure white robe with similarly white hair and silver eyes.
"Your smell reminds me of Erias…" Arcus chuckled, looking at Reyra, who quickly bowed her head, paying her respect to the three dragons.
"She does, doesn't she? Only she is… extremely tiny." The white one chuckled while the golden remained silent.
"Your sons are fine." Arcus patted her head, feeling Reyra's body relax a little. Many of the forces were still only coming back, and not all news was good. Both Dalal and Kaznak were injured, the former lying unconscious right now in another tent, unsure if she would survive until tomorrow. Not to mention… she still couldn't contact Lia and her group since all of this started.
"What about the Berisons?" The golden-clad woman asked, but Arcus raised a hand, silencing her.
"First, introductions!" He looked over his shoulder, warning the woman to behave. "As you know, I am Arcus, he is Tolemia." The dragon continued, pointing at the white-robed man first, "And she is Neesa. Our fourth partner is Albert, but he can't leave the island, so excuse his absence."
"It is an honor. My name is Reyra Amarin!” She replied, slowly getting back up from her bow.
"We know. Now… as Neesa asked… What about the Berisons?" Arcus asked more kindly than her, making the dragon simply roll her eyes.
"We don't know. Those green energy pillars are blocking all communication!" Reyra grunted, walking back to the map and showing them all they knew about. "What we can tell is that they are set up in a circle, going through their territory! We can't tell how much of the Berisons' army has suffered or how many of them turned, but they should still have a sizable force in their capital region. Our plan is to amass a force, big enough to move in and either catch the Undead from two sides… or open up a passage so we can evacuate the survivors."
"The survivors can't be trusted." Neesa shook her head solemnly. "I will burn all of them! Same with the cities that were attacked this time! They can't be trusted!"
"Not yet!" Tolemia argued, "This is not even the end game! Reign in your hatred, Neesa! Four thousand years of hibernation should have curbed your edges a little!"
"Enough!" Arcus raised his voice, sounding like thunder, "We will provide support." He nodded at Reyra, "But Neesa is right. The rescued can't be trusted. Appoint a region on Meriath that will be where we put every survivor of the war! They must be isolated and arranged into small pockets that we can oversee! The slightest clue of them behaving strangely… Neesa will purge them."
"I… Understand." Reyra nodded, not arguing.
"Where is Lia? I want to meet with her!"
Arcus's sudden, jovial, and happy voice surprised Reyra, especially as the other two dragons also looked curious and interested in her. Yet, seeing the change in her expression, they knew something had happened.
"She was on a mission, and we lost contact. She should be still alive… we just don't know how the situation is at her end."
"I see…" Arcus furrowed his brows, scanning the map, "Point me to where you saw them last. I will go and look!"
"You will?" Asked not just Reyra but the other dragons, too.
"Of course!" Arcus smiled, slapping his chest, "That girl must live! If I must sacrifice my own life to protect hers, then so be it!"
That alone was more surprising for the other two than for Reyra. Arcus named only one other person like that in his whole life… and it was his sworn brother.
Corty Safe? For now? Or is this the calm before the storm?
