Round 1

Administrator Tousoux’s Personal Estate

Beware! Thanaton hissed. That armor is soul tainted. It is a devourer. Many souls lay trapped, hidden within it like bugs in a jar. Like a dog whose hair was standing on end, the spell blade felt extremely weary around the pair of female hatchlings. Chiefly it was the ominous black ghostly spell armor. Akamori gripped his blade loose, bringing it up into a ready position in Bahumet’s stance.

Akamori Shinjo backed up cautiously, putting space between himself and Tua and Tanaka. A few weeks ago, he’d almost forgotten his visceral fear of hatchlings. Just a few minutes prior, he’d weighed the odds of survival against hurling himself into a mob of 4 heavily armed hatchlings. But Thanaton’s intense caution that bordered on fear put him on guard.

Tua’s tongue flicked out, sampling the air, and she grinned broadly as she leered at Akamori. “This one tastes like danger.”

Tanaka eyed Tua wearily. “Patience sister. If we engage them haphazardly, we could pay for it. These vermin aren’t to be underestimated.”

Tua drew a spell blade eagerly and pointed it at Akamori, clearly challenging him. On the second-floor balcony, the rest of the squad watched tensely. Sirsir’s hands bit down into the stone as his body tensed to jump. Morwen rested a calming hand down on his shoulder. She shook her head.

“Not yet.”

Sirsir’s jaw clenched, but he nodded. He’d never questioned her orders, and he wasn’t about to start now. Sirsir fidgeted nervously. He sighed quietly.

“Man, all this sitting around don’t sit right with me at all. We should be down there with the Lt.”

Akamori fell in at Sala’s side, shoulder to shoulder. Both close range fighters were within a few meters of the hatchling sisters. Amara remained back with the squad, acting as an observer with her Maetrayops visual magic spell. Being able to perceive many magic being used was a valuable boon. Morwen refused to pass on such an advantage when two dangerous unknowns strolled up to challenge the squad. Morwen’s expression glazed and her gaze went distant as she channeled her own ability. She’d yet to master actively using it while engaged in other activities.

“I’ll take the one with the armor. Deal with the mage. I’m sure the Captain will come up with her own plan. We’ll just have to adjust as she comes up with it.”

As acknowledgement of Akamori’s words, Sala’s aura exploded to life around him. The dead hatchlings at their feet, the scattered weapons and anything not fastened down was hurled into the walls. Sala rolled his shoulders, drawing two loud and distinct pops. His thick red fur ruffled wildly as he stood within his aura, the eye of a violent and wild golden hurricane. Sala dropped into a ready stance, as stone slid over his skin like liquid rock.

“I’m going to open you up and drink your insides pink skin.” Tua taunted Akamori.

“Hmph. Come and try.”

Tua snarled and charged forward. She and Akamori engaged in a whirling cyclone of blades. Sparks flew as the two warriors took each other’s measure. Neither combatant committed to anything rash or hasty just yet. Quickly Akamori sensed that even a marginal mistake would mean certain death, as Tua’s form and strength quickly put him on the back foot.

Unfortunately for Tua, Akamori grew accustomed to being the weaker opponent in a duel and used his speed and agility to his advantage, turning his weakness into a strength by being too elusive to pin down. An overpowering strike deflected here or parried there. Employing an economy of motion and moving only as much as he needed to evade, deflect, or block, he proved a frustrating opponent for Tua.

For Tua, she was used to using her brute strength and size to finish her prey. She’d never had to outwit an opponent. This shortcoming in her blade work frustrated her as much as the crimson-haired warrior in the black coat. Tua roared as the warrior casually swatted her latest attack aside and stepped around her as smoothly as a warm summer breeze.

Growing tired of his games, Tua lifted her spell sword and channeled her magic. She wreathed her hand in soul magic and dragged it along the blade. She may lack for finesse and accuracy, but she had ways around those pitfalls. She could artificially make her blade work more precisely by enhancing her blade with soul magic. The sword would now actively try to seek gaps and openings in her opponent’s form and technique of its own accord.

With Tua and Akamori squared off, Sala charged straight for Tanaka, who’s hands wove at deft speeds, hurling an acid bolt that splashed against his radiant aura and sizzled mutely against his stone skin. Sala’s fist smashed into the wall, leaving a head sized crater, marring the pristine surface. Tanaka’s heart raced as the severity of the danger she was in sank in, and decades of weaver training under her father kicked in. Her wings flapped as she gained altitude and she wove with both hands, casting individual spells, a pair of soul bolts that crashed against the Primal’s aura before dissolving against an unrelenting fury. In response, the primal jumped, seizing her by the ankles and hurling her across the room to smash into a far wall, stealing the air from her chest.

Martial combat was not her strongest suit, and her vision swam as unconsciousness threatened to claim her. She knew if she passed out, death would greet her soon. Forcing steel into her spine, Tanaka rose, weaving a complex bolt spell that mixed earth and soul magics to create a rock spike laced with soul magic, making a stone homing missile. She hurled the attack at the primal as he charged at her. To his credit, the attack missed as he dodged with the agility of the red-haired human. The stone spike banked sharply and tracked after the primal. With the momentary distracting, she clapped both hands to the floor and raised them, erecting a stone wall in front of the primal.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Sala simply plowed his way through the wall, seizing the spike and crushing it in his bare hands. Tanaka’s blood ran cold as the war slave charged her again. He was unrelenting and, as a mage; she was unaccustomed to having to fend for herself without having the impenetrable wall of her sister as safety to hide behind. She took a deep breath, lining her next attack up, and breathed. A pallid, grayish green flame boiled out of her maw. Faces of dead souls keening and wailing, eager to draw more souls into their misery, erupted out at Sala, with Akamori behind him.

Tua flew up out of the attack with a rehearsed precision. Sala cupped his hands at his side. An orb of raw golden magic pooled and condensed as he channeled raw aether into an unstable ball and then let it explode outward into Tanaka’s breath attack. The primal’s counter attack crashed into her breath weapon spell, burning through the soul flame with the raw plasma of life. That didn’t unnerve her though, it was the Primal’s rage filled warcry that unsettled her.

In the next instant, the balcony above exploded to life as a heavy spell machine gun and a heavy spell cannon got into a shouting match, directing oppressive fire at Tua. Tanaka wasn’t sure who the winner was, but it wasn’t Tua. A hurricane of rounds and explosive bolts swatted her sister from the air to bounce off the stone floor heavily. Tanaka wove a blink spell, emerging from the void frost covered next to her sister, and flicked a woven void bolt out at a spell sniper, throwing off his shot. A fist-sized chunk of stone next to her head evaporated into particles from the missed shot.

Tua picked herself up off the floor, her lips curling back into an eager grin. Tanaka’s blood thirsty sister, now excited and invested in the fight, would become a liability the further the fight dragged on. They needed to be clear headed, not clouded in battle fog. Lusting for glory was only going to get them killed. Tanaka could see this was a squad of soldiers who’d fought together long enough to have these kinds of situations comfortably mastered.

“It is unwise for us to remain.” Tanaka cautioned.

“So is returning to father in failure.” Tua said.

“He would understand if success meant risking our lives.”

“I don’t care! Tonight we feast on their still beating hearts!”

“Gross.” Akamori said.

Tua charged Akamori again, her blade flashing wildly through kata’s the spell warrior, only understood on an instinctive level. His sword whipped about wildly as he frantically worked to parry and evade her attacks, unable to create an opening of his own to counter attack. Even with his own considerable strength and power, Tua was just a head above him across the board. Thankfully, he had demigod level endurance now, otherwise she could have just tired him out and ran him through then.

As it stood, they were in a stalemate. Tua was more patient than she let on, though, and she had more than enough tools and skills at her disposal to wear down a tougher opponent, even one that relied on skill or agility to evade her. In the end, no one escaped the devourer’s armor. She would have the red-haired man’s soul in her collection. She might even use him as a puppet of her own. She spun, letting her blade lance across the stomach of his black coat. The slash resistant material might have been durable for non magic attacks, but her blade easily carved it open, leaving a track of cleaved flesh in its wake.

Akamori staggered back, clutching his stomach as blood already freely flowed from the wound. In the instant he backed off to check his wound, a storm of fire rained down from above his shoulders. Sirsir, Amara, Yasiin, and Morwen all cast and wove spells that pushed the hatchling sisters back before Tanaka cast a powerful ward fueled by soul magic. Akamori watched grimly as the squad’s sum of attacks splashed against the barrier field harmlessly.

Tua and Tanaka both consumed mana potions, and Tanaka drank a health potion as well. Sala fell back in at Akamori’s side as the rest of the squad ceased fire at the top of the balcony. Like the hatchlings, the squad took the momentary lapse in fighting to replenish their AP with mana potions. Akamori used a lesser healing potion, knitting the slash mark across his stomach back up. On the balcony with the rest of the squad, Morwen studied Tua and Tanaka. These two were not average Sauridius hatchlings.

“Amara, get down there and join them.”

“Right.”

Amara stepped off the balcony, landing in a crouch next to Sala. Her maetrayops glowed golden, iridescent as she studied the draconic sisters in front of her. They were strong and old for hatchlings. Both were not far off from their first molt. Both possessed strong earth, soul, and fire magics. The Weaver also had some water magic, too. That meant they were capable of greater protection magic, aside from the standard gamut of offensive uses of their base alignments.

Tua’s tongue flicked out, sampling Akamori’s blood on her blade, and her irises dilated with pure glee. “Not bad for an appetizer, but let’s proceed to the main course, shall we?”

Akamori shuddered. “Oh that is so unsettling on so many levels. Can we not refer to me as a meal?”

Tua grinned. “Why not? That’s all you are to me.”

“You wouldn’t like me. Too gamey. And I’m probably a little greasy? I feel like I’d probably cause some indigestion. Maybe irritable bowel syndrome or something.”

Sala and Amara both looked at him flatly. He shrugged innocently. “What?” Sala and Amara both shook their heads before turning back to the hatchling sisters, who just simply looked perplexed.

“Just ignore him.” Amara said.

“90% of what he says is random or stupid.” Sala added.

“Hey! I’m standing right here.” Akamori protested.

“We know.” Amara grumbled.

The sisters charged, now annoyed at the squad’s bickering. Combat began once again.

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