“… Why have you called me here, Luxmi? You know I am a busy man: busy cleaning after the mess you’ve created. I do not understand—why change your mind so suddenly? To think you of all people would choose to spare those wretched magnates after everything we’ve suffered through! You were the most eager of us, the most vengeful. Now what do I see? A cowardly little crow bending under the demands of those we sought to cull. I just do not—

“Pardon? What do you mean you are with child?”

- Grand General Xeros, Ruler of Nox Caelum

———

Libevich

Libevich smashes into the pavement right in front of the spire’s entrance, and she slowly lifts her body up—eyes bloodshot red with rage.

They should have never taken her out of the battlefield. It would have been so beautiful, so magnificent: a true warrior’s death! And yet, it’s been wrenched away from her so cruelly. How infuriating.

The first person that comes out of that hunk of metal and tries to explain themselves will end up as a putrid stain on the floor: this she’s decided. It’s going to happen. There’s no stopping her now.

Libevich can hear someone approaching. Click-clack. From within the halls, footsteps echo—louder and louder. Each stomp of their boot only increases her madness.

She winds her fist back, ready to pummel the sorry soul with the full might of her strength, and… chop. A familiar blade slices through her arm like a piece of meat.

Luxanne emerges from the entrance and throws the bloody stump at Libevich.

“Oh, of all people…” the old woman groans. “Luxanne, my dear. Please tell me you have a very good reason for making me lose face in front of Lorelai. I really, truly, do not appreciate your interference.”

The girl walks over to her and forcibly pulls the hook out of Libevich’s chest. Blood oozes out of the hole, yet nonetheless the victim in question remains unfazed.

“We’re changing plans,” she says, voice unamused. There’s something a bit different about her—more determined. Whatever’s caused this change, it’s not bad at all. “If Lorelai’s still alive, I can’t have you dying now. We’re already low on manpower as is dealing with the knights. See that thing over there?”

Luxanne points out towards the battlefield. There, towering high into the clouds, is a giant titan of steel. It lumbers next to the city gates, raises its axe, and demolishes the wall in one fell swoop.

“Hm? Has that little beast finally become a boy? He might be worth killing now,” Libevich says with a cackle.

“I’m glad you feel that way. Because he’s your problem now.” Libevich tries to refuse but a quick slash to her throat shuts the old woman up. Xeros’s habits have really rubbed off on the girl, huh. “I don’t have enough firepower to bring him down, so that’s where you come in. Use that freakish strength of yours to do some good for once.”

“Hmph.” She harrumphs and crosses her arms. “That’s all well and good, but I really don’t care about your military matters. All I desire is to clash against Lorelai again, or whoever that thing is.”

“Whoever? Ugh, nevermind. I know what you want, Libevich, but as the person responsible for the lives of everyone in the city, I can’t let you be selfish. If you’re not going to do it for me, at least do it for whatever respect you have left for Luxmi.”

Oh, how cruel of the girl to mention the former Grand General. Libevich does owe her quite a bit, and it would leave a sour taste in her mouth to see that all her hard work go to waste.

“… Bah, you know I can’t win against you,” she says. “Fine, fine. I’ll play with that steel dolt for a bit, but only because you asked me so nicely.”

Luxanne sighs in relief. “Thank you.”

“How-ev-er!” she interjects. “Lorelai’s still out there, and mark my words: You’ll only end up dead trying to fight her. You’re still young. Don’t waste your life on a fool’s errand.”

“I know.” She clenches her fist. “I won’t last long against her, not when she’s capable of subduing a monster like you.”

“Compliments will get you nowhere, darling~”

“That said, it’s not as if we’re completely helpless. I just need some time to prepare.”

Libevich raises her brow. “Hm? Oh, I see. You’re dusting off that experiment of Xeros’s, then?”

The old crow’s only talked about it in brief: his last failsafe in the event of an invasion. But for Luxanne to suggest using it… looks like she doesn’t know who the power draws from.

Well, all in due time. Better for Xeros to be the one having that conversation.

“It’s the only way I can even think about standing a chance,” Luxanne says. “All I need to do is stall her long enough for the Omega Pulse to fully charge.”

“And how long would that be?”

She shakes her head. “I’m not sure. Hells if I know how it even works, but I have to try.”

It’s quite admirable—that resolve of hers. While Libevich is not too confident in the girl’s chances, Luxanne’s a survivor. She’ll manage somehow.

“Look at you acting all grown up now~” Libevich pulls the girl in for one more hug. And for once, the old woman harbors something she hasn’t felt in a long time: a fickle mess of a thing called concern. “Be careful out there, Luxanne. How could I possibly face your mother if you were to die before me?”

With that, Libevich leaps into the air and makes her way towards the big bad beast knocking on the gates.

That boy Sarathiel is a lot larger than she remembers. His shadow’s wide enough to swallow the entire city, body towering high like a mountain.

Slow as one, too. But it doesn’t stop him from demolishing the land with every step of his jagged foot. Rumble after rumble, he advances forward and braces against the incoming storm of bullets and explosions: courtesy of the Caelum remnants still alive after the wall’s collapse.

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The legionnaires on ground are still going strong as well. Libevich watches with amusement as they try to hack, and even climb, Sarathiel’s leg—only to be shaken off and then squished into a flat, dirty stain. It’s almost like looking at a colony of bugs. How cute.

What’s even cuter is how careful the brute acts to avoid crushing his fellow knights. A single swing from him would be enough to easily decimate the legion, but alas he just stands there and looks pretty. This is why Libevich can’t stand having followers; all they do is hold you back.

Wait a minute… I’ve just thought of a marvelous idea.

There sure are a lot of people hiding behind him. It would be a shame if a certain someone lost their balance and—splat. A hundred-thousand: crushed in an instant.

Libevich stretches her muscles and pats her dusty robes. Her bones creak, her breath riles up into a snarl, and then: she bolts forward like a flash of lightning.

The big oaf doesn’t have a second to react before she collides straight into his chest with a thunderous crash. For all his size, Sarathiel tumbles back - feet high off the ground - and plummets. Slowly, he falls, and the knights behind him can do nothing but panic and flee.

Libevich cackles as she hangs on for the ride. What use is there in growing to such a size if you aren’t going to make use of it? Without ferocity, his titanic form’s no better than a walking target. A pity. In the process of becoming a man, Sarathiel has lost the rage that makes him entertaining.

Well, it’s not too late. Perhaps she can lend a hand in his education; seeing the slaughtered corpses of his kin should be enough to light a fire in that boring heart.

Hm? What’s this now?

Much to her dismay, Sarathiel’s body shrinks - casting off his coat of steel - and the two crash with not a soul beneath them. No crushed knights. No flattened remains. The other Polus kids scatter away from their impact and continue to assault the capital, ignoring her as she trudges towards the struggling Throne.

“Oh, get up boy. You’re made of sterner stock than that,” she says with a shake of her head.

Sarathiel staggers himself upright, regaining his balance, and hurls a slew of curses at her. “You're as deranged as ever, Manslayer. To think you’d come for me after running away from Lorelai. Hah, it comforts me knowing even a monster like you is afraid of death.”

Libevich can feel a vein bulge. She wants to tear his throat apart right this instant, but where’s the fun in ending things so quickly? No, that just won’t do. Maybe if she plays with him slowly enough, that thing posing as Lorelai will come to his rescue.

“Fufu, don’t anger me now, Sarathiel. I’d like nothing more than to see her again, but my little girl has her own plans for me. A shame… I do hope she comes, though. Your corpse would make for a lovely present.”

“She won’t be coming,” he says, cracking his neck and preparing to strike. “I will be your opponent.”

Libevich bursts out into a laugh. He looks so confident for one so weak. “Bold words, boy. But don’t forget: no matter how big you become, you’ll always be a runt before me.”

He snarls. “I am different now.”

“I dearly hope so, Sarathiel. Otherwise this will be much too boring.”

Libevich pats a spot on the ground clean and, with a flourish, daintily seats herself down.

“Do whatever you need to prepare,” she says with a yawn. “I won’t do a thing.”

The boy clenches his fists and leers at her with pure, smoldering hatred, but he does as she wishes and becomes one with the metal. Unlike the titanic form from before, this transformation is more sharp—more honed. Little spikes of silver erupt around him, and a coiling horn erupts from his helm. Soon, he roars out to the sky; his jaw stretches wide until rows of metallic teeth jut with a murderous shine; and he descends into a brutal, savage state—arm disfiguring into the shape of a double-edged axe.

All that’s left of his former self are the eyes. Clear. Controlled.

Libevich throws her arms open and beckons him forward with a coy smile. “Well? I’m waiting. Don’t tell me you’ve turned into a beast again?”

She tries to taunt him, but Sarathiel remains sane. How interesting; even with that monstrous appearance, he’s still just as boorish.

“Not this time,” he rasps, breath exhaling a fume of metallic dust. “Not ever again.”

Sarathiel bursts into action and lumbers forward with his axe trailing high, yet Libevich doesn’t move a muscle. She stays there, waiting. Watching his every step.

When the titan finally draws near, he bisects her with a clean strike from above. Organs, her brain, and every last one of her guts—everything is bared for all to see, especially a manic grin.

“Ooh, that wasn’t half bad,” her two halves mock before forcefully shoving themselves together. “You’ve certainly improved, boy, but you still lack a certain something. Here, let me give you a demonstration!”

Libevich grabs onto his axe and rips it out of his body—bone and all. Silver blood gushes from his stump; he howls out in pain. But she doesn’t stop there and rams the blade right into his chest.

Sarathiel struggles and writhes on the ground, his hands desperately attempting to pull her away, but the blade only burrows deeper. Harder. More violent.

“You need more bloodlust, my dear. You need more barbarity.” Libevich delights in his pain, and slowly increases her pressure on the axe. “Before? You were no better than an animal. There was no style, no grace anywhere in that hulking body: just a mindless display of instinct and brute strength. Still, it was somewhat entertaining. You’re slightly better now, but there’s no fury anymore. Call upon it, Sarathiel. Use it to stoke the flames in your bosom!”

“I will not become a monster just to satisfy you!” He shouts, and blasts Libevich with a silver ray from his horn. It encases her in a mold of metal, slowing her movements. Before she can break free, the boy grabs her firm and slams her to the ground with a newly-grown steel arm.

When he moves to strike her, she traps his fists in her ribcage and drags him down alongside the filth. “Oh, don’t be mistaken now. I’m not telling you to be consumed by it. Anger, rage… it all has a time and place. Lorelai would smother her emotions and let it out whenever she swung her blade. But you? There’s no purpose in it. No direction. Honestly, what a waste!”

Libevich pulls out her own intestines and wraps it around Sarathiel’s neck like a rope, choking him until he’s sputtering for air. The two wrestle on the ground, and he claws at her flesh, but it’s all in vain. The chunks regenerate faster than he can tear.

Eventually, Sarathiel manages to flip over and slice through the binding.

“To hells with this!” he grunts, shifting his axe back into a fist. “I’m going to wring your neck with my own two hands.”

“Yes, that’s it! Now you’re starting to sound like a real warrior.” Libevich flashes him a smile and brings her two fists up next to her face.

The two charge forward and pummel each other with a never-ending flurry of punches. Their bodies bruise, bones crack, but nonetheless they continue their assault until all that remains are mangled stumps: shockwave after shockwave. Impact after impact. The air drowns in the sounds of their primitive contest of strength.

But all good things must come to an end. Eventually, Libevich overpowers Sarathiel and sends him squirming onto a pile of mud.

“I had fun,” she says. “And I would love nothing more than to nurture you into a foe worth slaying me, but I can’t wait that long. There’s another more deserving of that honor, and I really shouldn’t keep my darling girl waiting.”

Libevich picks him up by the scruff of his neck and raises him high into the air. “No hard feelings, boy. You did rather well: be proud of that.”

He spits on her in one last act of defiance. “My only regret is that I won’t see Lorelai silence your nonsense once and for all.”

“All in due time, Sarathiel. All in due time.”

Libevich opens her palm and places it right where his heart should be. Stubborn types like him won’t die from a little beating. No, the only way is to tear out the source—

She stops.

And looks up.

For once, Libevich is silent. A wave of something dreadful courses through her. This feeling… it’s unfamiliar. Foreign, yet unpleasantly clear. It is an emotion she has only felt twice before.

The first being her encounter with that Star of endless, insatiable greed.

And the second immediately after—after the descent of the black-feathered embodiment of desire.

The sky is enveloped in an endless veil of twilight. And there, pulsing with red lightning for all to see, is Xeros.

He’s summoning it… the creature that consumed Luxmi.

The Corvid is coming.