JIN MEIFENG, FOURTH HERALD
Before me stood an adversary of extraordinary prowess, each of my weapon’s thrusts nimbly evaded by their swift and acrobatic maneuvers. With breathtaking velocity, they materialised behind me in an instant, poised to deliver a lethal strike.
With a desperate, instinctual roll, I narrowly avoided the impending blow, yet the jade-hued spear managed to leave its mark with a glancing wound on my back. The weapon gleamed with an enigmatic green sheen, its speed leaving me little time to think as I focused on a series of evasive manoeuvres.
A grim tableau unfolded around me, with the paladins who fought alongside me now reduced to mere shadows of their former vigour, overpowered by the relentless onslaught of void creatures. The battlefield’s sombre complexion mirrored the dire straits of our situation, an ominous prelude to what felt like an impending end.
Drawing a deep breath, my gaze never wavered from the enigmatic figure before me. His pale emerald eyes exuded an air of enigmatic confidence. Adorned in robes as white as driven snow, he gripped a spear formed from jade-like gems, a masterpiece that cracked with streaks of verdant lightning, lending it an ethereal allure.
I recognised him instantly—Jadonix, the Voidshade whispered, was second only to Cyanthos in terms of strength. Even after channelling my divine art, I managed to stave off his advances for a mere thirty minutes, a testament to his natural superiority over a Herald like myself, who had ascended to this status a mere decade ago.
"Fourth Herald, your strength has surpassed my initial estimations. A commendable feat, yet your time has come to an end," Jadonix’s voice resounded through the air, a chilling proclamation that hung heavily between us.
In a seamless display of mastery, his jade spear began to radiate an eerie glow as he gracefully leaped into the air. The atmosphere around him danced with streaks of green lightning, the very essence of his weapon coalescing into a translucent form.
A symphony of five translucent illusory spears emerged from the single ethereal spear, orbiting him in a graceful semicircle.
Without warning, one of the phantasmal spears hurtled toward me with a velocity akin to a bullet, accompanied by a vivid streak of luminous green. In a swift roll, I narrowly evaded the projectile’s trajectory, narrowly escaping its lethal embrace. Yet my respite was fleeting, for as I resumed my stance, a second illusory spear materialised before me, an eruption of vibrant green lightning harbing its approach.
----------------------------------------
KLARA NOVIKOVA, SEVENTH HERALD
The world seemed to glow with a pale yellow hue as my gaze fixated on a dense net woven from countless lemon-coloured threads. Each thread appeared incredibly thin, almost invisible to the naked eye from a short distance. Yet their sharpness was undeniable, capable of slicing through flesh effortlessly
If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
A surreal vitality coursed through the threads, animating them into a living web that gradually closed in around me. At its epicentre stood the architect of this intricate trap, Lemonia, a Voidshade of undeniable artistry.
She perched effortlessly atop her network of threads, the embodiment of poise and equilibrium. Her flawless yellow skin shimmered with a crystalline iridescence, akin to sculpted marble brought to life. Her innocent yellow eyes, a stark contrast to her monstrous strength, radiated with an unsettling purity. A tattered brown robe clung to her lithe form, outlining her curves.
Yet, in a surprising twist, tears welled up in Lemonia’s eyes, streaming down her cheeks like crystalline rivulets.
"Please, seventh Herald, grant me the mercy of a painless demise. Refrain from forcing my hand to harm you. I shall bear the burden of remorse if it comes to that," her voice quavered, an unusual blend of sorrow and determination.
Resolute in my focus, I tapped into the formidable power of the third phase of earth-weaving. The very ground responded with a seismic shudder, an earthquake rippling outward to shatter the encroaching net of threads.
As the once-constricting web fell into disarray, individual strands cascaded to the ground like errant worms, their yellow forms writhing in a bizarre dance. The threads underwent a grotesque transformation, evolving into nightmarish entities that surged towards me, their viscid, lemonade-like essence oozing with a sickening allure.
I skillfully navigated the onslaught, leaping into the air with a flourish. My weapon, a gold-rimmed axe of formidable make, intersected the space where Lemonia had been moments before. In a swift display of agility, Lemonia managed to detach herself from the thread beneath her feet, alighting gracefully on the ground. My axe, however, found its mark, etching a wound across her neck that released a crimson rivulet.
In response, tendrils of golden energy enshrouded her form, born of my weapon’s effect. Though they didn’t cause significant harm, these threads served to hinder her movements and befuddle her senses, akin to the disorienting effects of a flash grenade. Seizing this advantage, I launched my axe from above, propelling it towards her with calculated precision.
Simultaneously, the earth beneath us quaked, massive walls of soil ascending to encapsulate Lemonia in a makeshift prison.
However, victory proved elusive as nets of thread materialised with astonishing speed, encasing me in a protective cocoon that thwarted my strike. Yet I refused to relent, and the threads succumbed to the force of my blows, my weapon’s edge slicing through their intricate matrix in a shower of frayed filaments.
I was tantalisingly close to her head when an unforeseen surge of threads erupted, arresting my momentum and forcing me to withdraw.
Lemonia, too, seized the opportunity to escape the confines of my makeshift prison, leaping gracefully through the lattice of threads that had once entrapped me.
Suddenly, a sharp agony lanced through my arm. I glanced down to find a broken strand of yellow thread entwined around my flesh. A moment of horror seized me, but before I could react, the thread dissolved into my skin, a myriad of yellow worms wriggling forth from the wound.
Without hesitation, I severed my own arm, a guttural cry escaping my lips. Her power was unlike poison; it was a relentless contagion, a lethal virus that invaded my very being.
In a macabre symphony, Lemonia’s demeanour underwent a nightmarish metamorphosis. The innocence of her smile twisted into a grotesque frown, her hair unravelling into a writhing mass of worm-like tendrils. Her once-pristine skin rotted before my eyes, patches of flesh peeling away to reveal the grotesque visage beneath. The charade was over; this was her true form, concealed behind a mask of deceptive purity.
"Let us conclude this wretched dance." Her words slithered through the air, accompanied by the stench of decay.