Jorish shook, holding his spear as his chest moved rapidly, trying to replenish the air as he fought. He had no time for thoughts, as another Witchborne jumped towards him, Jorish stabbed with his spear, skewering the anomaly. He used his Energy, releasing it from the weapon towards the Witchborne’s body, destroying it for good.

 Jorish took a deep breath, pulling back his spear as he tried to catch his breath. He felt his physical strength drained; his Energy low. He stared at the dark sky, the sunlight draining bit by bit as he grunted. Damn it all!

 He didn’t have time to consider any other options, tens became hundreds, hundreds became thousands. Jorish fought, trying to move with the absolute minimum, conserving his Energy as much as he could. Yet, against pure numbers, it all did little good. He momentarily glanced at Dyce, as his eyes widened noticing one of the Witchborne sneak on him from behind, as he didn’t notice.

 Jorish gritted his teeth, gathering most of his Energy into his weapon, as he launched a beam of light towards the creature. The Eye of the sun went through the Witchborne, causing it to explode as the Energy destroyed it from the inside. Dyce glanced back at Jorish in surprise momentarily before having to get his focus back to the front. Jorish smiled before stumbling, his body begging for more power, for more light that he didn’t have.

 He stepped forward, dodging the claw of the Witchborne in front of him, slamming it with his spear without any Energy. As it fell, Jorish gathered his strength as he stomped repeatedly on the creature until it stopped squirming. He ignored the pain and his bleeding foot, trying to remain conscious.

 Suddenly, hearing explosions from where Traves and the Witch fought, he saw the sky turn black, losing the last of the lifeline he had, losing the sun. He fell to his knee, his body unable to move anymore, his fingers twitching, unable to keep hold of his spear, as he watched even more Witchborne rushing them…

  -  -  -  -  -

Dyce took a deep breath, feeling weakness in his body. He held his spear, each thrust sending waves of Energy, destroying each Witchborne. Yet, he felt his very body weakening, he was a practitioner of Energy, and he was quite fit, yet even using his Energy to boost his body wasn’t enough, the endless fighting straining his body over and over, his own awareness almost causing him to die, if not for Jorish’s timely help.

 He gritted his teeth, stabbing his spear forward as a vortex of Energy carved through the Witchborne standing in front of him, before sending another Energy strike behind him, knocking the monsters away and giving him enough time to turn around and strike it, but not before it took a piece of his shoulder with it.

 Dyce swallowed a cry, grunting in pain as his hand barely moved, he switched his spear to the other hand, his only good eye clouding up with blood and sweat. He stood, refusing to bow down, yet slowly realizing a reality.

 He was going to die.

 Slowly, Dyce felt his body fail him over and over, almost dying repeatedly, while the numbers of the beasts never went down, only increasing rapidly. He looked at the sky, dark and eerie as he knew that Jorish was definitely not any better. He thought about Anise, her inability to use Energy meant that she had to repeatedly tear from each Witchborne over and over, too inefficient to be of help to save them.

 Suddenly, Dyce’s eyes widened, watching the black sky get darker. How is that even possible? He wondered for a moment before dismissing the thought, watching the Witchborne run faster toward them, as his grip hardened, prepared to face his end.

  -  -  -  -  -

Traves held his blade, the Voyage, taking everything around him, as well as his ally’s thoughts, into his mind. Cail individually might not be the strongest Monarch, but his supportive abilities and artifacts put him way above most.

 Reinold stepped forward, at the front line, facing his old enemy, a hint of anger in his eyes. Yet, Traves could see the raging sea inside him, while on the other side, the Witch didn’t see to particularly recognize him. He shouted. “Vile Witch, today… You fall!”

 The Witch stared forward, in the midst of the darkness that obscured her form, her deathly eyes flashed for a moment as her voice scraped out. “Try…”

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 Suddenly, a huge wall of flames appeared behind the Witch. It started red, turning into blue then into white, before suddenly turning black as it rushed forward. A look of anger flashed in Reinold’s eyes, as he stepped forward lifting his shield, a colorless aura rising from his body. “I will not be stained by your darkness.”

 Traves watched as the corrupted flames rushed towards Reinold, as they suddenly stopped upon touching his pure aura. Moments later, the flames dispersed in every direction, vanishing. The unstained body. Traves knew, Reinold had one of the most unique bodies in Regalia, instead of trying to drive his strength up, or anything else, he stayed pure, pushing his body’s purity to the maximum.

 In most regards, it was weaker than almost every other body, yet it was the optimal state for the human body, unchanged, unblemished. That was until he got his unstained aura. Traves thought about how that combination made Reinold immune to any elemental Energy attacks, with his training, it truly made him unstained.

 As the walls of flames appeared, Traves kept moving, trying to circle around the Witch unnoticed. Yet, he knew she kept her eyes on him, his earlier strike leaving an impression. As he kept walking, he fired blades of wind and blood Energy alternatively, keeping her on her toes. We need to keep the pressure and get her to run out of Energy! He spoke mentally.

 Reinold nodded as he pushed forward, swinging his sword as a shockwave moved towards the Witch, stopping as it clashed against her barrier. As he got even closer, suddenly the Witch grunted, as an ear-drilling sound erupted. A huge slab of stone smashed Reinold from the front, as he was thrown back, another piece of stone rose up, getting cut down into a meter long nail, as it spun and fired towards Cail.

 In that moment, the Sword Saint unsheathed his sword, sending a line of silver that flew instantly, cutting the nail before it could get close to Cail. Nicely done! Said Traves. Seeing how ineffective her attack was, the Witch roared, as tens of stone nails appeared in the air. Traves felt the Energy tremble, as all the nails started heating up. She is using the Energy to heat up the rocks, so Reinold’s defenses won’t be enough! Traves noted as the nails fired in every direction towards them.

 The bloody glow in Traves eyes darkened as endless blades of blood sprung up around him, cutting all the nails heading towards him. He grunted, feeling the Energy drain. He saw as Reinold cut a few of the Nails, blocking the rest with his shield, getting pushed back. As one nail came from behind, Reinold knew he couldn’t block it. He grunted in preparation, as Traves heard a bang. He didn’t need to turn around, getting the information transferred to his brain, the image of Cail holding his pistol, Starlight, with smoke coming out.

 At the same time, the Sword Saint’s sword danced, painting the skies silver as he cut one nail after another, keeping Cail to focus on supporting them. Yet, Traves could see they were running out of Energy far quicker than the Witch. That, and their inability to break through her barrier without a solid chance told Traves, they were still in trouble.

 Suddenly, the Witch growled again, as more and more nails appeared, instead of tens, it was hundreds. Frost and flames appeared on them alternatively, as Traves grunted, knowing of their impending defeat, as the bloody red in his eyes turned crimson, a single thought on his mind.

 Malik… Master… Friend…

 My blade will find her head, even if it was the last thing I do!

  -  -  -  -  -

Nao looked around in frustration, her hand refusing to let go of her rifle. She looked at her previous Battalion leader and fellow squad leaders. They had been the closest and rushed their strongest members before the rest of the army the moment the emergency flair was launched.

 She looked at the leader, Tyran, as blood dripped from his fists, deep cuts across his muscular arms. Three Witchborne appeared, trying to rush him. The moment their claws got close to him, two of them had their claws slip, barely touching his arms as he activated his Energy, before his arm shot forward, sparks and flame popping around it as if it was grinding against the air itself, before smashing into the third Witchborne, blowing it apart.

 Nao looked at the sky, now pitch black, as the creatures kept increasing further and further in numbers. She looked at one of the Witchborne that rushed towards her. She loaded her rifle, firing shot after shot, as her breath got faster and faster until finally, it fell.

 She looked forward again, as Tyran dispatched the two remaining Witchborne near him, one new cut on his thigh appearing. How long can we last? She didn’t know the answer, but she knew it wouldn’t be long, the endless hordes wearing them down.

 She looked as two more Witchborne moved towards Tyran. He punched ahead again, his full force in every strike, as it headed towards the monstrosity. Nao’s eyes widened as the creature was sent back but still got up. What?!

 Before she could think, she looked to the side, as one Witchborne moved towards her, she felt shocked as it moved twice as fast as the previous ones, as she moved her gun in panic as she shot over and over again, yet the creature shrugged the shots off, as it was in her face in a moment. As she prepared to jumped back, she felt her foot hit something, as she tripped and fell back, feeling time slow doing as watched the claw head towards her. feeling the rough, cold claw as it hit her, cutting through the top of her face, and taking both of her eyes.

 She hollowed, scrambling back, unable to see anything, filled with terror and confusion, as she heard the beast approach her…