The battle unfolding before me was like something ripped straight from the pages of ancient legends, chaotic, breathtaking, and terrifying all at once. My instincts screamed at me to turn and run, to put as much distance between myself and the maelstrom of destruction as possible. But I couldn't. My eyes were riveted to the spectacle, unable to look away, and my breath caught somewhere between awe and dread.

Adora moved with such speed and precision that she was nearly impossible to track. She was a golden blur, weaving through the battlefield with an elegance that seemed almost otherworldly. Her blade, Excalibur, cut through the darkness with righteous fury, each swing illuminating the battlefield with radiant arcs of light that burned away the encroaching tendrils of the Black Queen's influence. The sheer force of her presence was magnetic, a beacon of hope in the heart of overwhelming despair.

Beside her, her Aspected companions fought in perfect harmony, moving like a well-oiled machine honed through countless battles fought side by side. Kori, radiated an warm aura of the All-mother, her mere presence reinvigorating the exhausted and injured fighters around her. Her eyes burned with a divine determination, a maternal strength that refused to let darkness claim another soul.

On the other side, Rheala, was a stark contrast to Kori's radiance. Cloaked in an eerie violet aura, she moved with deadly precision, each whispered chant from her lips sending the fallen rising back to their feet driven by a singular purpose: to exact vengeance upon the Black Queen's forces. The undead soldiers surged forward with chilling efficiency, attacking the encroaching ooze with merciless resolve.

At the rear, Lotha and Taimi held the line against the relentless tide of the Black Queen's Court. Lotha, the towering Comandant, was a force of nature. Her massive axe carved great swathes through the writhing black tendrils, her battle cries shaking the very air around her. Every swing of her weapon sent shockwaves rippling outward, forcing even the most determined foes to falter before her raw, unrelenting power. The ground cracked beneath her boots as she pressed forward, unwavering in her purpose, every muscle in her body straining against the tide of darkness.

Beside her, Taimi's mechanical constructs whirred and clanked with precision, their metallic limbs moving in perfect synchronization with their mistress's commands. Unleashed volleys of mana-charged cannon fire into the fray. Each shot erupted in bursts of dazzling energy, vaporizing swathes of corrupted creatures before they could get too close. "Come on, you cunts!" she cackled, her voice crackling over the comms. "You think you can overwhelm me? Think again!"

Despite their relentless assault, the Black Queen's forces were no mere fodder. They fought with a cunning born of ages of dark servitude, striking with lethal precision and overwhelming numbers. The air was thick with the acrid scent of burning ooze and the metallic tang of blood. Shadows twisted and writhed, attempting to ensnare the valiant defenders, their whispers slithering through the air with promises of despair and submission.

I took a stumbling step backward, my heart pounding in my chest. I needed to get out of here. I wasn't a hero. I wasn't a warrior. Yet my feet refused to move, my gaze locked onto the battlefield before me. There was something mesmerizing about watching these warriors fight, something undeniably intoxicating about the sheer willpower they displayed in the face of such overwhelming odds.

But then, amidst the chaos, I saw it a shifting ripple in the darkness, something moving too fast, too fluidly to be normal. My stomach clenched as I realized what it was: an infiltrator, slipping past the frontline, heading straight for Adora. Panic surged through me, and before I could think better of it, I shouted, "Behind you!"

Adora didn't hesitate. She pivoted with a grace that defied human capability, Excalibur flashing in a golden arc that severed the shadowy figure clean in half before it could strike. She didn't even glance my way, but I saw the tiniest nod of acknowledgment before she turned back to the battle, pressing forward with renewed vigor.

I let out a shuddering breath, clutching my chest. That could have been it. That could have been the end.

The battle raged on, each moment a delicate balance between victory and annihilation. If our side faltered for even a second, the Black Queen's forces would overwhelm us like a tidal wave of nightmares.

The Black Queen's relentless assault seemed to falter, her overwhelming presence diminishing as the coordinated strikes from Adora and her companions began to take their toll. The once imperious aura surrounding her flickered like a dying flame, and for a fleeting moment, hope flared among the defenders. The battlefield, a symphony of chaos and desperation, saw a shift the tide, once against us, now leaned in our favor.

Adora, radiant and relentless, stood at the forefront, her golden hair flowing like a war banner in the wind. With Excalibur in hand, she pressed forward, the blade blazing with the fury of countless champions before her. Her strikes were precise, each swing a devastating arc of light that cleaved through the dark ooze with divine authority. Sparks of raw magic erupted with every collision, and the Queen's avatar staggered under the onslaught. A satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of Adora's lips as she closed the distance, ready to deliver the final blow that would end this nightmare once and for all.

But then, the Black Queen laughed a hollow, chilling sound that sent shivers down my spine and silenced the battlefield. "Very well," she purred, her voice dripping with mock amusement, her blackened eyes narrowing with something dangerously close to delight. "I suppose that's enough playing around."

Before anyone could react, a terrible scream ripped through the air. It wasn't a single voice, but a chorus. A cacophony of agonized wails echoed through the palace grounds. All around us, those who had been infected by her dark influence, innocent guests, nobles, even her most loyal court members, collapsed where they stood. Their bodies contorted, writhing in grotesque spasms before melting into a tide of inky black ooze. The corrupted mass pulsed and writhed, twisting and crawling towards her like some sentient tide of despair.

"No!" Kori shouted, as she reached out, trying to stop one of the fallen nobles from succumbing, but it was too late.

Rheala cursed under her breath, her normally stoic demeanor cracking as she watched the all-consuming void surge forward, engulfing everything in its path. "By the secret name of Death," she whispered, eyes wide with horror. "She's going to—"

The Queen's avatar drank it all in, the amorphous darkness pouring into her form like rivers of ink returning to their source. Her shape swelled, bulging grotesquely as more and more of the living ooze fused with her being. Limbs stretched unnaturally, her once elf-like visage elongating into something monstrous, her very essence distorting and corrupting the air around her.

In mere heartbeats, the being before us had transformed into a towering behemoth, a grotesque amalgamation of nightmares and hatred. Black tendrils writhed from its shifting form, eyes, hundreds of them, opened across its surface, each one filled with unspeakable malice. The monstrous figure loomed high above the palace, blotting out the sky itself, its presence suffocating the city under its sheer, crushing weight. It was a creature that had razed civilizations to the ground, snuffed out entire lineages with a mere thought, and now it stood before us, its hunger not yet sated.

A cold dread settled in my gut. I had read the histories, the whispered accounts of those who had survived past encounters with her, the devastation she had wrought. Cities burned in her wake, kingdoms collapsed, and millions had perished in unspeakable agony. And now, New Londinium stood on the brink of sharing that fate.

The air was thick with tension, and for a moment, despair threatened to take hold. But then, Adora stepped forward again, her grip on Excalibur tightening. "Not today," she declared, her voice steady, resolute. With a single swing, she unleashed a brilliant arc of light that slashed against the Queen's monstrous form, carving a burning wound across its massive frame. The creature roared in pain, a sound that rattled the very bones in my body, but it wasn't enough.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

All across the battlefield, the defenders rallied, a last-ditch effort to stop the titanic monstrosity from reaching the city. Lotha, bloodied but unbroken, bellowed a war cry and led the remaining Dragoons in a ferocious charge, their weapons sparking with enchanted runes. Taimi, from her towering mech, unleashed a storm of fire and steel, her cannons thundering with desperate precision. Kori and Rheala stood side by side, life and death entwined as they cast their magics in tandem, striking at the creature with divine fury.

Even the civilians, those who could still stand, fought with whatever they had raw desperation their only weapon. It was a scene of defiance, of last stands and unyielding will.

The battle of the palace had been lost, but the New Londinium had just begun.

The colossal form of the Black Queen loomed over the battlefield like a nightmare given flesh, her monstrous presence eclipsing the moonlit sky. A deep, resonant bellow rumbled from within her grotesque maw, shaking the very ground beneath our feet. But the roar was not the true danger. No, the true threat lay in the ominous, pulsing core of darkness coalescing within her throat. A void-like energy, pitch black and writhing with malice, grew steadily brighter, expanding with a sickly luminescence that seemed to devour the surrounding light.

Adora's voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the chaos. "Stop her! Before it's too late!" she cried, desperation threading through her normally steady tone.

The response was immediate. Everyone still standing poured their remaining strength into a renewed assault. Blades flashed, spells erupted, and artillery spells thundered, but it was not enough. The Queen's power had reached its peak.

With a horrifying roar, the Black Queen unleashed her devastating attack. A beam of annihilation tore through the night, the very fabric of reality warping around it as it hurtled toward Adora. It was not simply a weapon—it was an erasure, a force that consumed everything in its path, swallowing hope itself. Adora braced, Excalibur alight with golden radiance, preparing to meet the attack head-on, but even Excalibur's legendary might would not be enough to hold back the abyssal tide.

And then, a streak of gold and muscle leaped into the path of destruction. Asah, fully shifted into her Nemean Lioness form, moved with the speed of a lightning strike. Her enormous frame collided with the beam, and for a moment, the battlefield froze in time. The legends whispered of the Nemean Lioness's indestructible fur, a gift from the Great Spirits themselves. Tonight, I saw that legend come to life. The dark energy struck her head-on, and instead of cutting through her, it splintered against her unyielding form.

A brilliant cascade of light and shadow erupted from the impact, the forces colliding with an unimaginable intensity. A shockwave thundered outward, obliterating the remaining windows of the palace in an ear-splitting crescendo. My vision blurred as the pressure wave hit me like a hammer, sending me staggering backward. Pain shot through my skull, and I realized, with a sickening lurch, that my eardrums had burst. Blood trickled down the sides of my face, but I could do nothing but watch in awe.

When the energy dissipated, Asah stood firm unbroken, unbent, and entirely unyielding. Her powerful form radiated defiance, her chest heaving, eyes locked onto the Black Queen with a fury that rivaled the sun.

Adora, still gripping Excalibur tightly, gaped in stunned silence, the sheer audacity of Asah's intervention throwing her off for a brief second. "Asah…" she breathed, amazement and frustration warring in her voice.

Before either of them could react further, another sound split the air, a roar that resonated with a primal force unlike anything I had ever heard before. It was deep, reverberating through my bones, shaking the earth beneath my feet. This was not the roar of a beast, but something far greater.

A shadow darkened the battlefield, and with it came the unmistakable presence of the world's apex predator.

Medarda the Golden Dragon had arrived.

She descended in all her glory, a terrifying vision of majesty and destruction. Her black and gold scales shimmered in the flickering light, each one glistening like a polished gemstone. Massive wings, stretched to their full span, cast the battlefield into deeper shadow, and her golden eyes locked onto the Black Queen with a predator's singular focus.

Medarda inhaled, her powerful chest expanding as she drew in air, and I knew what was coming before it happened.

The dragon's breath was unleashed, a torrent of golden fire so intense it fractured the very air around it. The heat struck like a tidal wave, making my skin prickle even from a distance. The inferno raced forward, consuming everything in its path, slamming into the Black Queen with devastating force. For a moment, it seemed the tide had turned once again.

The Queen shrieked, her monstrous form writhing under the flames, the dark ooze hissing and bubbling where the fire seared it. Blackened tendrils flailed wildly, some vaporizing on contact, others retracting into the monstrous form she had become.

But even as the dragon's fire tore through her, the Black Queen did not fall. She endured, standing amidst the flames, her colossal form marred but not defeated. From within the heart of the inferno, she twisted, her many blackened eyes narrowing in hatred.

The battle raged on, but the Queen had met her match.

The assembled forces pressed forward with renewed vigor. Adora and her Companions striking with divine precision, Lotha and Taimi pressing the assault with overwhelming force, and now, Medarda, the Golden Dragon, matching the Black Queen's destructive might with her own.

I stood there, watching it all, a mixture of awe and fear warring in my chest. It was a battle that belonged in myths and epic songs. But it was no longer just legend. It was happening right before me. And if they failed here, there would be no legends left to sing.

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Codex

Ancient Poem of Diana First Task of Twelve, Author Unknown.

Sing, O Muse, of Diana, mighty in toil, Who to the vale of Nemea strode, bold and royal. There dwelt a beast of monstrous birth, Spawn of Elf, Spirit and Beast, scourge of the earth.

From Eurystheus, Queen of Mycenae grand, Came forth the call, a perilous demand: "Bring me the hide of that dread beast, Whose shadow darkens hill and feast."

Upon her journey, steadfast in grace, Diana sought Cleonae's place. There, Molorcha, humble and kind, With open arms and heart inclined.

A sacrifice the poor women would make, To Aspects, for Diana's sake. "Wait," said the Heroine, "but forty days, If I return, together we'll praise." "If fate claims me, then honor my name, As Heroine fallen in perilous game."

Days waned, the sun made countless rounds, Diana prepared with solemn sounds. Yet lo! With leonine spoils in hand, Heracles returned, triumphant to stand.

The beast, impervious to shaft and blow, Fell not to arrow nor club's strong throw. Diana, with cunning and might, Blocked the den, to end the fight.

Through narrow passage, she entered brave, With iron grip, the beast he gave A death embrace, her strength untold, And claimed its pelt of fearful gold.

Some say beneath the heavens wide, In open fields they fought with pride. So fierce the fray, so great the cost, A finger Diana herself had lost.

Upon her back the lionesse she bore, To Mycenae's gates, and there before The trembling Queen, who, stricken pale, Fled within her city's veil.

From thence she bade, with quivering voice, "Report thy deeds outside my choice." Thus Diana, with courage vast, Fulfilled the first of her labors tasked.

O mighty Daughter of Aspects divine, In every heart thy glory shines. From Nemea's vale to Mountains high, Your legend lives and shall not die.