Corpses and ash littered the city as the siege raged on, with bodies falling one by one. Vampires turned to dust in flashes of flame, each burst painting the air with a grim spectrum of hues. Barbarian war cries echoed, swords clashed, and spells often fizzled out in the ceaseless tumult. The remnants of the Slaethians’ fallen filled the cobblestone streets, while the vampires’ ashes permeated the air everyone breathed.
Amidst this chaos, some noticed the squiggly black substance descending upon the dead like cruel snowflakes of despair and woe. However, most were too caught up in the raging mana storm and the ongoing slaughter to pay heed. A few of these entities drifted toward the living but were swatted away like pesky mosquitoes and quickly forgotten. Those who briefly interacted with these odd tiny creatures were overwhelmed by the need to defend against and slay the nearest foe to pay them any mind. However, two individuals recognized them for what they truly were—a lich and a single champion.
The city’s cobblestone streets and dark alleys became unwitting hosts to these little horrors, which settled silently on the strewn corpses. No alarms were raised, even as the dead began to twitch and convulse unnervingly. Beneath pallid, bloating skin, something sinister stirred, unseen. The corpses swelled grotesquely, their forms distending as if about to burst. Within, a seething mass of tiny creatures writhed and multiplied, feasting ravenously on the fresh decay from within.
Suddenly, like a wave of balloons popping, corpses erupted across the city simultaneously, unleashing a cloud of little gooey floating octopuses—black puddings that swirled into the air, forming a dark cloud of cruelty and writhing tentacles. As the mana storm howled, tearing roofs from stone buildings, these creatures did not struggle against the tumultuous winds; instead, they thrived within it, spreading ominously across the besieged city like a blight-filled cloud within the storm. Meanwhile, orange lightning spidered across the scornful heavens, casting a sinister glow through the dark cloud of horrors.
The cacophony of battle abruptly ceased, replaced by piercing screams that echoed through the air. Terrified eyes turned skyward as chaos ensued, with warriors stumbling and tripping over one another in their frantic scramble to escape. The refugees and vampires, a hesitant alliance from the start, retreated as one toward the safety of the castle perched high on the peak, their steps frantic and quick. In stark contrast, the Slaethians raced towards the relative safety of their airships. As the air filled with continued cries of terror, the ominous blight above began swooping down like a school of starved piranhas, hungrily descending upon the Slaethians.
Yet, amidst the carnage, two figures stood facing each other, glaring intensely, each waiting to see who would make the first move—and whether it would be born of regret or wrath. One was a discarded champion, now pledged to a newly blossoming dark goddess. The other, a leader and a general, commanded those who mercilessly hunted and slaughtered, all deemed inferior and unholy by his deities. Just two years ago, these two figures were lovers, bound by matrimony for nearly two centuries. A champion who did everything to resurrect her lover from the dead, and a general who, upon returning to life, no longer desired her love or her presence.
Sadly, their anticipated clash would have to wait, as he was the first to blink. Turning abruptly, he fled, leaving Paladin Champion Vanya Anlyth too stunned to act, shocked by his sudden cowardice.
~
“FIRE!” Nikola screamed out to the beastkin aboard The Heart of Eternity, her voice growing raw from the repeated command. The airship maneuvered nimbly, outpacing all others as it swooped in close enough for the casters to launch their salvo. Amidst the chaos of the mana storm’s oversaturation, which interfered with their magic, only one or two fireballs were successfully flung toward their targets.
Down below, Slaethians fled toward their still-grounded airships, while several others provided cover. However, amidst the chaotic mana storm, magic proved too finicky to be reliable. Airships struggled against the high winds; some collided with buildings, others crashed into one another. These collisions sent crew members screaming as they were thrown overboard, adding to the tumult of the storm-ravaged city.
If not for the dome that had protected the city along with the airship, Nikola knew The Heart of Eternity would have been doomed during the explosive detonation that had occurred.
Despite being the only airship the besieged had over the city, it outpaced all others, powered by a dryad seed core at its heart and a large mana crystal. Much to Nikola’s surprise, the airship glided through the storm effortlessly, far surpassing her expectations. The only flaw was the crew aboard being unable to consistently cast attack spells upon their enemies, an issue that also plagued the Slaethians.
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Nikola’s eyes widened as a wave of darkness ascended from the city, engulfing the Slaethian airships and plunging them into greater chaos than the storm had. Several airships plummeted from the sky into the city below, while others rushed toward the valley in a desperate bid to escape.
With a deep breath of relief, Nikola gazed off at where Blake clashed with a massive dragon. From her vantage point, she marveled at how truly amazing the black pudding of a woman was, her power seeming to surpass anything Nikola had ever encountered in all the past lives she could recall. Even from the anime and movies she remembered watching in her most distant past life—and while she herself felt invigorated by all the swirling mana around her, she wasn’t a caster. She had never learned how to utilize magic but loved creating and engineering everything she could with it. However, she did notice that all the mana crystals aboard the ship were currently supercharged, continuing to grow in power. Studying it would have been fascinating, but her eyes widened in fear as one of the crystal cannons exploded.
Nikola had instructed the casters and crew to avoid using the onboard weapons due to the high concentration of mana, aware that they ran the risk of backfiring. This precaution was why the casters were limited to struggling with spells rather than utilizing the ship’s more potent armaments. However, she hadn’t anticipated that the mana crystals themselves would combust spontaneously, overwhelmed by the raw quantities of mana saturating the environment. The explosion was catastrophic, tearing several crew members limb from limb and blowing a large chunk from the side of The Heart of Eternity.
With a cough of black blood, Nikola pulled herself up, slumping against the railing as fire consumed the airship’s hull. Fear etched across the lich dragonling’s face—not for herself, but for the seed within the airship’s core. The dryad had yet to be born, and yet, Nikola had used the living seed to empower her airship, believing the dryad would grow into the airship itself, becoming a living, flying tree with a separate body to walk among the crew as all dryads could. However, that dream now burned before her eyes.
It was a tragedy to lose such a valuable seed, one with the potential to give life to such a wonderful creation. Nikola wanted to scream in sorrow as the flames spread. Glancing around, she quickly assessed the situation, desperately searching for a way to save the seed, if not the ship. Only one idea came to mind, a drastic measure that would sever the tether from the phylactery housing her soul—wherever it might now be—to the body she currently inhabited, cutting it off permanently.
“If any god on my side can hear me, I could use a little help,” Nikola whispered into the chaos, her voice a faint plea amid the roar of storm, cries, flames, and destruction.
“Don’t fear for yourself, child. I’ll see to your next life,” A woman’s voice answered. “After all, the Cycles of Reincarnation are turning once more.”
Nikola turned her gaze to the fire, and out of it walked a feminine figure—not a child, but a tall woman whose skin resembled dark and cracked granite, yet was utterly gorgeous, as if sculpted to perfection. Her hair was a bright pink, complemented by a matching dress suited for a ball. But her gaze froze Nikola; her eyes were an endless black abyss. Nikola could have lost herself in that stare until the woman casually tossed a round black orb in her hand, snapping Nikola out of her trance. “T-That’s my phylactery. How? Who are you?” Nikola whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of awe and fear.
“Don’t fear or worry about that. Just do what you have to save that seed. I’ll take care of y—”
The woman’s words were abruptly cut off as a sudden change unfolded. It was odd, almost surreal to Nikola, who had no innate sense for magic. The woman in pink rushed to the edge of the railing to stare down. Nikola followed her gaze back to the battle between Blake and the dragon, where a new figure had emerged as if stepping through the folds of reality. This figure commanded awe, swathed in otherworldly robes, with a gold crown shimmering with a disquieting luster upon his head. With a mere flick of his hand, the lich witnessed the black pudding explode, and with another casual gesture, he dispatched the two figures standing off into the distance in a second explosion.
“Shit! I’m too late,” the woman cursed, spinning around swiftly. With a wave of her hand, she seemingly plucked a glowing white orb from thin air. “Half of the child should survive, but... Shit. Shit. Shit!” she continued to curse under her breath, then abruptly snapped her gaze to Nikola. “That seed is now more precious than you know. Do what you have to save it. I’ll handle the rest with your soul afterward,” she said with a firm nod. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the white orb disappeared from her hand, and a fraction of a millisecond later, she vanished without a trace.
Nikola had no clue what had just happened, but she knew the importance of what must be done. Staggering to the airship’s helm, she reached up for the controls that would manipulate the very fabric of reality and send it to another moon. She had no idea if the mana crystal powering the airship would detonate or not, but it was the only decision she could think of to save the vessel. The manipulation and speed would surely put out the fire, and more importantly, get the ship and the seed away from the high concentration of mana.
As she began to pull on the lever, she noticed the black orb the woman had casually been holding rolled across the ship’s deck—Nikola’s phylactery. With a resigned sigh, she pulled the lever and watched as her soul was pulled from her body as the phylactery shattered.
To those who noticed The Heart of Eternity above, it was there one second, and in the next, it disappeared in a loud boom.