Looking bright and happy at the monsters before her face, Celleste faces no pressure whatsoever, even when her greatsword isn't in her proper grasp. It is still in her hand, squeezed well and tight, but she hangs on it like a thread. A secured one, but one that she couldn't even pick.
Cutthroats growls under their vision of a mop. Sharp and deadly they are, and tendrils flicker around them, swirling like mad.
“Alright, gimme a minute and you are in pieces,” Celleste says, thinking about what she should do since the floor above her head is fully covered in flames, and she hears many explosions. Stepping there is a no-go territory, as far as being human goes. She has no protection-based Skills at all, and Sharie's heat can scorch her to death.
She is a cutter.
Destroyer.
Sword.
Weakling too, if she may add.
So the present issue of hanging out with a bunch of Darks with hundreds of swords ready to cut into her isn't that thrilling. It isn't an ideal situation even if she is alone, facing just a single Cutthroat, so she hopes to preserve and give something a try.
Her shine of Force goes through her greatsword, lighting her surroundings much better, but looking down or up, there isn't even a terrace or a balcony to fall into or jump at. Just a few windows are there, but all too far away. She can't fight like this, nor handle her sword in this manner.
Her Force is demanding at least proper swings, and by using Feel of the Force she has gotten not long ago, she handles it much more thoroughly than she should. It is somewhat comforting to her, unlike legs hanging in the air.
Her Emblem, called Sword Echo, is the perfect manifestation of Force and it gives her powers and ways of handling a pair of energies through her Emblem.
Life as Rank 0 for her has been rather lacking, as she has always been a loner. A rather sorry one, at that.
No one taught her the right ways of Walkers. She doesn't even find it interesting right now, so her awkwardness and unwillingness are normal for her.
Her hands and sword will have to do to kill these monsters, who are both ready to kill.
Celleste doesn't scream and is upset. She has seen worse things and is a rather unique individual from a few points. Not as a whole, of course. It isn't as if a Force is something that is as rare as Annihilation. It isn't, and won't be.
There are more than 20 times more Force Walkers them those with Annihilation, making them a rarity, that is less common than Mutants. Force allows one to walk in this world with various powers, strengths, and manifestations. It can literally boost and change Vectors or Arcanite and fill them or the body with unfathomable force.
What is that exactly isn't that important. What is, is what it can do, and how well it operates by Walker's will.
Known as an overbearing and overpowered kind of element that is not a flame, ice, or power of a body, it channels force stemming from the Emblem, like any other element.
It has a simple and powerful vision of power and an undeniable will to move through anything. In most cases, of course. It isn't dangerous like many elements, which all have various implications. Ice freezes. Flame scorches. Annihilation... annihilate.
What Force can do depends on Walkers and their Skills, talent, and the effects of their Emblems. They can be very crucial and important for Molding weapons, and each Force Mold is significantly better than a normal one.
Adding to that one of the most slippery, and soft Elements out there, the Shadows, Celleste has something not many thought is possible. A strange duality that her body takes relatively well, while her continuous use of her Skills provides invaluable research for the Emblem Academy. They are watching, and they take this show rather seriously and well.
So, one way or the other, her worth and what she has shown already pays for itself. Her actions show some consequences and answers that she hasn't told anyone. And she isn't even that much aware that they are all being watched like test subjects and future troops.
Unfortunately or not, Celleste doesn't care much about what she is, could be, or how others perceive her. She doesn't, and never will. She is free now, and she promised the ones who saved her from Australia to become a great Walker.
It is kind of a dull promise anyway, but harmless. She has her plans and hopes already, and the power of a Walker helps with that.
Whatever it means, she will do that out of no spite. Not for them, but mainly, for herself.
Looking around, the building is straight and impossible to traverse. It isn't even half as destroyed from the outside, as the inside, so there are no holes or crevices to use to get into the building. Windows are there, of course, but out of her reach.
“Here I thought falling off a building is a joke...” She complains, noticing how the Cutthroats swirl their tendrils, and readies their thick whip tails to whip at her face.
10 feet away is enough to not get minced by their not-so-long striking range of hundreds of tendrils. And that whip is longer than she could guess.
One of them attacks and whips its tail, a tip with a thick kind of blade, closes, stopping a couple of inches from her face, before smacking into the wall, cracking it to pieces.
It destabilizes her greatsword that rests in the building, and Celleste sways in her grip, and almost shouts at them to stop
They won't stop, she knows, but thankfully, her greatsword remains in her hand and in the wall.
Then, she notices the cracking wall, and retreating tail. It will come again, and the result won't be pretty. She knows what she has to do. “If there is not a way in, then I will create it.” She looks at another smack of a whip aiming at her face but this poor tail is only a few inches away. It doesn't reach her whatsoever.
So the Cutthroats go forward by moving their tendrils that act like spider feet, latching into the wall and moving like a snail.
It looks kind of funny, almost like a caterpillar trying to crawl away, but the caterpillar is the size of a small bear.
They don't want to fall from this wall too, albeit this fear doesn't show itself on their faces.
There are no faces whatsoever.
Just tendrils, weird and nasty-looking fur at some portions. The body of a beast underneath them growls and displays those tendrils like it's the most precious thing. It is disgusting, as far as she sees it. A pair of eyes shine through some of those tendrils, and occasional swirls, making their heads at least notable.
She can attack them.
Aiming at the head always works.
Cutthroats have terrible eyesight, but that isn't something Celleste knows at all.
She is terrible at knowing these kinds of things, making her an even worse kind of hunter.
Celleste wishes to fight them and cut into them once again since she killed a single Cutthroat before. It was alone at that time, wandering off its nest, and she went straight at it, exchanging many moves, before killing it from above.
A head is a weakness, and after severing a large section of those tendrils that are like iron whips and armor, she can kill it before wheezing like an old engine.
Rank 3 Darks are noticeably more powerful, and no one will say otherwise. She would call them liars, and other names, if she ever sees or comes close to such people.
She is in trouble against them. Dodging the main whip tail is the hardest part, but unlike the last time, the setting is the worst. A vertical wall, with gravity in shambles. She wishes to have the ground below her feet in a different way than dozens of feet away.
And she is no spider.
She knows they are difficult to deal with, but not impossibly so. She killed one already, so observing how they move at a snail's pace put a smile on her face. However, another crushing whip almost reaches her face in the next second and moves the last shred of her hesitation.
She wriggles her sword and escapes the whip by pulling her body up and getting a good grip on her greatsword. Then she falls down, stabbing the building and turning and facing the wall. Her Force flows through her sword, coming from her right hand that always holds it. She slashes at the wall of the floor below the one filled with flames and crashes it to pieces.
Getting there is difficult, however, since the Force backfires, and pushes her away from the wall. She is too late to latch her sword to the wall, and her Molding is way too clumsy to change into some rope or hook. “Ah! My bad...” She grunts and hopes to change her position after this minor failure.
Changing her posture, by straightening her body and extending her greatsword, she reaches out as far as she can. This maneuver costs some time, so she ends up below the floor with a large hole. She is still yet to hit the ground, but her greatsword latches into the wall, securing her fall.
Celleste grunts. “Who built these things? So sturdy. They should be proud it lasted this long, but ashamed it's home of those monsters.” She clicks her tongue and looks above.
Cutthroats are coming, but are like snails.
She smirks at them and taunts them with a small wave of her left hand. “Can't get to me, huh? Can I run? Why, hm?” She figures that she doesn't want to run, and in that moment, her expectations and hand freeze.
Both Cutthroats charges down as if they go through some space manipulation that speeds up their body. It isn't that, of course. Not under this Rank.
They've had enough, and their prey is below. It is easier to go down than go sideways on this wall, so they go down the wall like hundreds of blades pushing into the wall, damaging it like missiles striking this building.
They look as if they are falling to their deaths, but their thick tail secures them on the spot, by drilling into the wall and slowing their fall.
Celleste gasps, impressed but she forgets to clap. Instead, she finds a window not far away. They are kind of rare to see them on this side of the building, so resorting to destruction is not a bad thing when no one lives here apart from those monsters.
In fact, so what if someone else lives there? She wouldn't care for it anyway, so she goes through the closest window by jumping and barely catching the opening. Struggling and breathing for her life, she falls inside, and into completely dark ruins, yet a surprisingly normal kind of floor. It is open, wide, and tall, and not merely a single floor tall.
She falls and flies dozens of feet before the ground. This place isn't completely destroyed, as it is an open and large room for a reason.
This time, she screams and flaps her hand in the air before a heavy thud.
She falls to the ground, her side hurting. Coughing turns hoarse, and pain briefly lingers in her mind.
Her head doesn't work and her greatsword almost quivers in its physicality. Her mind doesn't take this fall lightly, and her body sure gasps for a breath.
She huffs for a good while, before getting to her feet in under 4 seconds. That is 4 times larger than she likes.
At least her eyes are open, allowing her to see a large room of some sort of wide auditorium. Fortunately, there are no Blobs here, which is good. This place looks like a great place for a nest, she reckons. Or rest?
Looking up, she figures she fell from a window that is part of this auditorium that is at least 2 floors tall, and the window is almost at the end of it, and few in number. Auditoriums don't need a source of light? Celleste wonders why this large place looks this way, but she doesn't even know what the auditorium is.
“Not smart, am I? Might make wings though. They could help, or so that man said.” She whimpers after getting her feet and hands working again. The landing hasn't done her any favors, and her side hurts.
Then, before having a chance to redeem herself, Radar screams at her in noises, and two crashing Cutthroats destroy a good chunk of the wall she has fallen from.
They fall from the same height as her, and with a heavy and awkward landing, they crawl like a bunch of worms on the floor. Hundreds of worms... in an awkward and hideous fact.
Celleste wishes to laugh at their misery, but she isn't one bit better. Her landing is part of numerous mistakes she has made in the past day, and she doesn't even take it as something bad.
At least nothing seems wrong in her body, as it is under Body Enchantment, that protects her from the inside out. It flows through her body, affecting her limbs, organs, and blood flow. It is part of the reason she has trouble breathing, and her stamina will get lower the more time passes. Sword Echo doesn't help either, as it is stressful, and kind of heavy in use. She can't swing this greatsword endlessly. Not now, at least.
Her side feels like a bunch of hammers smashing her at all times. Problems are getting weaker and weaker, the hotter her heart and chest feel. It pains her lungs, which will soon affect her entire body.
She stretches and feels the cycling Vectors throughout her body, and what sort of damage she just took. She has no idea, essentially.
Her body goes over this damage, fixing it on its own, and there isn't even a surprise on her face. She can endure anything, she knows. Pumping more blood and Arcanite through her bloodstream is part of it.
It makes her head sharper, and move better, while her head isn't that great with this. Along with the effects of Radar, she grunts and shakes her head. “Annoying flies... Kill you. Both!”
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Her greatsword is still in her hands, and a serious smile spreads on her face.
She overcomes her limits in this moment.
One of the Cutthroats has some trouble getting on its feet, and before giving it a chance, Celleste runs, a white and black edge cut into its belly, but many swirling tendrils are on the way. Metals sounds connect, and tendrils fly away as Force clashes against them, lacerating, slashing, and tearing them apart.
She only manages a meager inch-deep slash into its belly, while not a whole lot of tendrils go against her greatsword. She takes it well after seeing blood flowing and hearing close shrilling howls. It means it is hurt.
Celleste jumps aside, dodging a whip tail that almost pierces her side. White and black slashes go against other tendrils, and before she knows it, dozens more tendrils fly away, as she makes wide and heavy slashes. Swirling like lost tails of salamanders, tendrils aren't worthy enemies before a heavy Force. The other Cutthroat gets to its feet, and the duel is over.
2 versus 1.
It doesn't look too good for her, but the first one is still down, but its tail is coming for her head. She pushes through, using her Shadow to its limit under her greatsword, and poising it forward. A white light spreads through her hand, and she jumps forward, going against the thick tail in a quick stabbing motion.
She goes against it, and any Shadow eats that light like candy. Force blasts the tail aside, and with dozens of crashing shadowy slashes coming afterward, each takes part of her Force Surge, penetrating into the exposed flesh of the belly-cut Cutthroat.
This attack goes deep, and Cutthroat bleeds and turns sideways, allowing Celleste to dash forward, stabbing its belly deeper, before cutting into the head, killing it with two more dense and white slashes.
She allows her a brief breath. She isn't over the moment of not breathing when she is too focused. Combining, and working with her Skills is tough work for her, and she hates how taxing it is. Body Enchantment and Shadow and Force are an art. Her Sword Echo is her catalyst and her power splatters out of her Emblem.
She cut this Cutthroat in a different way from the first kill.
She is happy about it, but too bad she can't name this Move.
It has a name under her Fusion Moves of her Sword Echo, which isn't separating Shadow and Force. Both are part of the Sword Echo and won't separate, albeit it is possible to do so under some circumstances.
Celleste already knows how to separate it, but it isn't because of her. System or the Emblem does know it for her. Shadow Empowerment does separate the Shadow, while the Feel of Shodow, or Force does the rest. Separate Skills are also that. A Shadow alone has no Force. But Force has no depiction of a skill on its own besides Feel of the Force, and Force Surge, which is a Support type Skill, that blasts through her greatsword in one surge of her Force.
It is a fitting name. She likes it, even though it almost cracks her hand every time.
She is kind of disappointed because of the lack of her choice. She isn't upset.
A Thousand Swords is the name of this Fusion Move, which isn't truly a fusion. It is part of what Sword Echo can do. By using the softness of the Shadow, moving it like water, Force makes them firm like no shadow could be. Shadow then flows and pushes forth in a tidal way. A sharp one, capable of slashing and obliterating enemies. That is what that Force from her hand is for, and it changes the aspects of the Shadow.
That is what Move is, and it does take Force Surge to master it, while Shadow is just an expenditure. Those slashes are expensive to her stamina after all.
A style, technique, and other kinds of words are also fitting under the System. Skill is most usable, but under her sword, it seems right to call it a Move. A Finisher?
Final Sword?
Final Cut?
She wonders about many names and wishes to give it her own take. Using Feel of the Shadows, and Force Surge does the job, creating a Thousand Sword Move.
But as with many things that she can't know, or won't know, she tosses it behind her head.
Name is a name. It doesn't have to sound too complicated for what it does.
Cutting things shouldn't be that difficult, she always through. A Thousand Swords seems a bit exaggerated, however. She counts at least 15 swords anyway, or at least around that number. It happens way too fast, so thinking about numbers isn't her forte so she steps aside.
The dead Cutthroat still moves its tendrils, moving to pierce her in its Post-Mortem. She rolls aside, noticing more tendrils coming for her from the side. The second Cutthroat.
“Oh, leave me be... You bunch of freaks!” She shouts and does something she should've done a long time ago. She activates her Shadow Empowerment and lets her Shadow wrap her legs. She jumps aside for more than 20 feet, long away from any tendril or a thick tail. Like a feather, or fired arrow, her speed is beyond the norm, and she is kind of taken aback by this.
She should've done this before when she fell from the window to this room, or... anywhere, really. Speed is what she loves, and wrapping her legs under these Shadows adds her multilayered power and control. It moves great under her Sword Echo too, and Shadows kind of takes over its concept and makes her movement float.
Now it hits her like a lighting, and she recognizes her many mistakes. In fact, this Skill is very useful in taking damage, as long as she is clever with it. For example, she can fall from this building and care less about the results. Shadows wrapping her feet, along with Body Enchantment could take some damage, as their flexibility isn't small. Stressed legs are better than broken ones, if she lands on her feet, of course.
She knows it. Tested it.
Well, her teacher did, much to her dismay, screams and hope to cut him once more. She doesn't want to try or do what other thinks is right.
She has her own Emblem! Her own noises in her head.
Glaring at the remaining Cutthroat from afar, standing in debris that used to be a table, she spreads her greatsword wide. She is getting tired for sure in this short amount of time. But the Shadow Empowerment is strong in her feet, and her grip on her greatsword doesn't lose strength.
She is ready to go on the fight of her life, but this isn't it, and she knows it.
Fighting for life is a time when either side can lose everything, and pain and misery are the stakes and fuel to power it up. She doesn't feel anything like that, so this is just a temporary moment of fighting yet another monster.
And she doesn't feel like losing.
She jumps, flying 20 feet in a couple of seconds, arriving above Cutthroat who stands and is like a cutting fortress. But Celleste swings her blackish greatsword, and a Surge Force later cuts tendrils apart, scattering them everywhere.
Cutthroat howls and the whip tail slashes forth, but Celleste is long gone behind it, safe as the monster rampages around its proximity, thinking that she would come close like a moron.
She wears a victorious smirk, knowing that some monstrous are stupid no matter how they look. It does make sense, and this dog looking like a mop is laughable. She doesn't laugh, however. She readies her posture, and flowing white light of Force goes through her palm, empowering the greatsword until it is a thin line of flat light.
It looks almost like a shiny glass, but sturdy and long. She has no idea what this is, or how to call it. It is just a dense manifestation of Feel of the Force that has rather easy vision under her simple head.
It is a tank. Her Emblem, and body, that is. Taking more power out of it is fine, and letting it out is not borrowing. Giving something back isn't right either. It is somewhat greedy, selfish, and self-absorbing. That is what Force is, and for her, it is a tool. Like energy, food, or oxygen in the air. The Force is inside of her and in her glowing Emblem.
Giving it some form, it lives under her command and comes out of her swings.
Celleste places her sword forward, and the flow of Shadows under her feet arent' making things harder. It is like Inner Enchantment. It helps on its own. She just makes it to cover her feet, because it feels most correct.
Movement and high offensive power.
That is what Celleste's specialties are, and if she had some eye power or great perception of some sort, she would be unstoppable.
Radar is enchanting her hearing, and it can be helpful when fighting, but it isn't an ability that can shake the world.
Her Sword Echo can.
And she steps forth, walking straight to the range of the whip tail. She ducks down, dodging the slash that almost cuts her in half, but the flexible tails they have are incredulous. It stops, bends, and swirls like mad, striking her in an unnatural manner that must strain the tail and her back.
Celleste sees nothing but hearing enough is fine for her to act. She clashes against the tail with a simple slash, stopping it from moving too close to her body.
“Hm?” She grunts, forcing her arms, and the blade stops a large blade of the tail. It is big, and long, enough to piece her chest and leave a large hole. It must be an excellent piercing tool, and it can even move like another limb. Well, Cutthroats have countless of them anyway, as each tendril moves on its own trajectories, and could even extend beyond their bodies.
Each blade at its end secures some edge.
Celleste certainly sees them from enough distance.
For now.
Cutthroat charges forward, unnerving about the range. It is a grim reaper. A total meatgrinder. It charges like mad, swirling everything it has at her. Celleste kind of expected this sooner, and while feeling the weight of this tail whip, and charging monster, she jumps, moving the tail aside by a push of Force Surge, she turns to her foe.
She looks at two insane eyes and many swords as if she is looking at a painting. It is there, and charging for her life. She is unable to cut the tail off, however. It is tough and disappointing, even with her jump and densely packed Force. Perhaps the head will be different...
“Pain never hurts forever.” She mumbles, and charges to the maw of a monster. Quick and straightforward, the sword follows forth quicker than ever.
She tosses her sword like a dart, jumps forth, and stomps it deep into the middle of its eyes. Blood splatters. She jumps away quicker than any tendril could react, using her own weapon as a platform by jumping above it. Cutthroat is unable to defend against this sort of thin edge that moves past the tendrils like butter, or straight through them.
A clean thrust and Cutthroat slips down, tendrils swirling. It is dead but still alive.
Celleste falls back to the ground and takes a deep breath as she lands as if she is stepping into the water. That is how it feels when she falls from a high distance when Shadow Empowerment envelops her legs. They help more than ever, but tendrils surround her swords.
She doesn't like it for sure. “Damn... This one is not dying properly either?” She complains, winces forth, and watches how the tail swirls like mad, going straight at her.
She ducks again, and jumps away, angry.
“I will be damned if you take it! Bleed me....”
She plunges straight for her greatsword, uncaring about the dangers.
***
Above, a couple of floors past this one, and into a hot-blooded mess, Sharie is like a different person.
Surrounded by flaming lines, scorched Darks drops like flies. She remains quiet and lets her Flame speak for itself. The hallway is long a mess, and be it Viper Rats or Hellgars, she kills them all. Even Swifters who couldn't come close are failing to run, or attack. Sharie's heat is way too high. She burns them from a distance.
And her hair is aflame.
Spider appears at last, latching its long limbs at the cracked walls, and spearing at her like an arrow. It is many feet long and a sharp tip can hurt her like anything. She has no redeeming status of a Vector-type Walker. Almost all Elementalists have vulnerable bodies at this Rank.
But they are also ridiculously great at some things.
Sharie knows it very well since she has just done something most of her peers couldn't. Obliterate the place and any living in her proximity regardless of any consequences. That is why she is glad Celleste is gone, although she is still angry she won't listen to her at all.
“I will pursue her! Bet my flames on that.” She proclaims, and lifts her arms, letting the Flaming lines like paper spread, and crash against the Spider. She wraps the closing limb to her face, tears it apart, and crashes the whole Spider against the wall as if this flaming manifestation of her Emblem is her hand. It is dead and aflame at the same time.
“Laughable.”
Cracks and thin noises spread. This time, the remaining Spiders come at her at once. One from the destroyed side wall, coming from outside. It can walk on the outer walls, obviously. The other goes from the opposite direction.
“A strategic attack?” Sharie fears she has never seen Darks of this kind act in strategies. Is there someone who controls them?
Too bad. She has two hands and her Flames doesn't care for direction. She can handle it like her emotion by not handling it at all. Her Flame can flow everywhere as long as her Scarf permits it, and her range is under her control.
Her Flame Scarf, the name of her Emblem, wraps around her like clothes. It is also her tool and the base Mold of her Emblem. She kind of likes it, but being naked isn't her preference. She will have to ask for some clothes that could endure this heat after this is over.
Each of her hands points at each Spider, and her Scarf slaps or wraps them under 2 seconds, of their straightforward pounce. It is only one large piece of a Scarf, so the range and its flow are kind of limiting factors. It is around 10 feet around her, and depending on the enemies, she couldn't wrap or strike with her Scarf all of them.
Against a pair of Spiders, she can more than manage. Made of flames and them alone, searing heat flares through her Scarf, and even her skin and eyes are no different. It is part of her, after all, and above her chest, a flickering flaming Emblem embodies her status.
She is raging in flames, similar to her emotions. She can't stop it now, but perhaps as she is over these small fries, a Butler will stop her.
She hopes for that, and stops each charging Spider with a wrap of her Scarf, leaving them injured, scorched like the rest of the things here. She is dangerous right now, and steps closer and closer to her closest foe. She snaps a finger and wraps a whole Spider that has trouble moving with damaged limbs. It turns to dust, and Sharie feels like an executioner.
“Is this how all Flame Walkers feel like?” She wonders.
What a waste of blood, she thinks to herself too, but deep down, this is the least her Flame can want. It needs some quenching... Second Spider doesn't help her either and with every damned Dark gone under her vision, she looks like an impatient brat.
“Now, where is that damned girl?” Sharie asks but has no sense of perception to have an answer. The last time she saw her, she threw her from the window, so she could solve her wrongdoings. But the walls around her are long gone, and she doesn't even know which place she can look for.
Fortunately for her, she doesn't have to look for her.
Someone looks for her instead.
A tremor.
Howl like a crazy beast.
And thuds.
A humanoid figure walks out of the end of the hallway in flames. It is part of the previous room. It comes from those Blobs, most likely.
It reeks of blood and Dark.
“A new addition? Blobs are an annoyance, truly.” Sharie sights. “Should've killed them first.”
She doesn't truly recognize what is before her. Rank 3 Dark of some special properties, and part of some variant. She has no idea which, but the figure looks like a smaller Pounder, and is weirdly inhuman, yet humane. Dark Fog scatters around its skin. Featureless, spike-less, without tendrils or proper fingers. It has a weird shape of a humanoid shadow, with a weirdly shaped head like a sphere. Its only dread is its mouth and fog.
Walking on its legs, a straight back adds its mass some height, reaching at least 6 feet. This thing probably hasn't made that noise before, since its mouth is shut and it doesn't look like a beast.
Sharie focuses her attention on it straight away, and wonders where this will go. Her Flame Scarf wraps her again, and her hair turns more crisp.
“Are there others beside you, I wonder?” Sharie asks and readies her flame. Heat submerges the whole hallway, searing the corpses of some Darks she left out.
The Dark Figure, as it is often described, is a weird manifestation of Dark Fog and some weird mash of Darks. Or it has some specific evolution under some unique Darks. That is also a possibility under some researchers, but one thing is clear.
This is a baby.
And Sharie doesn't recognize it, as it is a bit more complicated kind of Dark.
The Figure feels the heat, however, and the rising temperature scorches the fog coming from its skin. It hurt, which is obvious by its halting steps, and shaking arms as if it wants to slap a fly away. It has slabs of dark fog for its arms, and each swing leaves a fog dancing around the air and going against her heat.
It fails, so it turns serious and opens its mouth. Inhuman, and like a curve, it seems like a spiraling mouth of many teeth.
Ridiculous howl spreads, trembling the room, and shaking Sharie's heart. Dizziness overlaps her head and even her Scarf wavers.
Before reacting more, the emotional distress saves her some time, but the Dark Figure launches forth and jumps straight at her. Its hands turn into fists, and Sharie looks as if 2 Pounders are going at her at the same time.
She barely latches her Scarf like a shield around her, knowing that she probably won't take a beating of her life that well.
Dark Figure crashes the ground and the remains of this floor to bits. That goes as if Figure is possessed, and it smashes a flaming ball until it crashes to the lower floors. Debris, smoke, Dark Fog, and pieces of buildings rain around.
Right into the auditorium, where Sharie lands from her fall. Flaming fissures envelop her Scarf, and not one bit of her body is visible. Her Emblem is an excellent form of defense, rather than the body. That is something that a lot of Elementalists do, in order to have some edge over others. Sharie has a rather flexible and nice Emblem in this regard, and her limits and uses aren't as bad as her emotional control and stress over Celleste.
For a Flame Elementalist, she is nothing new, of course. Emblem Academy would agree.
Earth, Ice, or any kind of element is often great to form some armor, or defensive structures. Flame is a bit strange in this way since it is very soft in nature. That is what System usually thinks as well, but more often than not, a Mold goes along with it. Elementalists can create their own Molds in much better ways than Vectors do, and be it offense or defense, their lack of molding is their Emblem. Not the imagination, or stress over the cycles, or shape of the Vectors.
Celleste unwraps her after figuring that the pounding is over. Dark Figure is nowhere to be seen, so she looks where she has ended up.
In an arena, where noise and growls spread.
She turns to the noise, oblivious to the fact that her Scarf shines around the whole auditorium as if it is a day.
Celleste wrestles with a Cutthroat for her greatsword by kicking, pinching, and gnawing at its tendrils. She isn't losing, which is notable by weakening Post-Mortem, which is a weird state of Darks, which are half-dead, but not really. It sometimes manifests in some Darks. Celleste hasn't killed them that well, so that is why she struggles.
However, a sword to the head should've done the job. That makes sense in her head.
So she howls, and bites like a fool, finally catching her greatsword and kicking it off by slamming and slashing this damned monster's head off.
She heaves a breath, noticing that it is kind of hot.
Sharie's eyes meet hers.
“Still hot?” Celleste asks, unsurprised, and not awkward. She has cuts all over her body. Wrestling isn't her forte for sure.
“You look like a mess.” Sharie reckons.
“Haven't looked at a mirror, huh?” She would offer her clothes, but considering the temperature, being naked isn't probably that... bad. It is just weird, and it isn't even the weirdest thing Celleste has seen.
Sharie chuckles and gets to her feet, before looking at the ceiling.
Dark Figure leans over the edge, crouching and its mouth watching.
“Oh!” Celleste shouts, pointing at that Figure. “You again!”
Dark Figure launches down, stomping heavily between them as if it weighs a thousand pounds.