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'No...'

Her eyes widened in disbelief, the twin orbs shimmering with sorrow as she bore witness to the harrowing moment; the air — tense and volatile — thrummed with a palpable aura as the entire cavern descended into a maelstrom of chaos. Fierce, scorching flames licked at the very heart of the chamber, their orange and crimson tongues dancing in a wicked waltz of destruction — the light casting eerie shadows upon the jagged walls.

She could feel a prickling sensation at the back of her neck; her senses — honed by years of training and countless battles — alerted her to the presence of others lurking in the shadows. The ominous whispers of their malevolent intent clawed at the edges of her consciousness — their hostility acknowledged yet ignored.

Beads of sweat trickled down her porcelain skin, glistening like liquid silver as her delicate fingers tightened around the hilt of her jet-black greatsword. Her heart, once as steady as a calm lake, now raced like a tempestuous sea — its thunderous beats echoing through her very soul; her long white hair, once as pristine as freshly fallen snow, now seemed tainted by the hellish inferno — black streaks marring its purity like scars upon a once flawless canvas.

"... why?" She couldn't help but to whisper, her voice quivering with a haunting mixture of grief and rage even as her gaze remained fixed on that one spot.

"Whoops~" The man turned toward her with a sardonic twist of his lips, his eyes — cold as glacial ice — flickered with malevolent amusement. "What? She's one of yours?" His voice dripped with sarcasm, each syllable a venomous sting as he gestured towards the charred, pitiful heap of what was once a diminutive creature — ashen fingers reached out, frozen in a gesture of a futile and desperate plea, as if imploring the Astrals for mercy, only to crumble into a charred mess.

The ethereal Sylph — her friend — had paid a terrible price for her delayed arrival. In the end, she could do nothing but watch as the remnants of her comrade continued to smolder in the relentless blaze — her crimson eyes obscured by tears that refused to fall. The sight itself was a chilling tableau etched deep into the annals of her memory, one that she knew would continue to haunt her dreams for the countless years to come.

Time seemed to slow, the world around her narrowing down to the man that stood before her — a wretched intruder in her sanctum; his mocking words — a vile melody — echoed in the cavernous chamber like a haunting refrain...

"Hmm... you know, I think you do~ Just hold on a sec; it's on the tip of my tongue, really." He continued to feign ignorance, a hand cradling his chin in a faux display of contemplation, his voice dripping with false sincerity. "Oh, right... I just remembered. Then again," the man sneered, his lips curling into a malicious grin as he leveled his gaze at her — a mocking condescension splayed across his features like a grotesque masterpiece of cruelty. "Sorry, not sorry~"

Her magic flared the moment his callous laughter began; an eruption of anger — hot and molten — roared through her veins, coursing like a volcano on the brink of eruption. The fiery torrent threatened to consume all of her reason within its furious blaze, the searing heat of her ire was enough to eclipse even the inferno that had reduced her companion to a charred husk.

Crimson energy surged around her, a whirlwind of power that seemed to mirror the tempest within her very soul; it twisted and swirled like a maelstrom — a vivid and horrifying display of the depths of her fury. The room quaked as she launched herself into action, her silver armor clinking like a harbinger of impending doom; jagged stalactites bore witness to her wrath, their counterparts shattering under the force of her charge. Her weapon gleamed with an ominous luster as it sliced through the air, its blade a wicked arc of devastation as it descended upon the man like a vengeful comet.

"Whoa~" The sardonic amusement in his eyes did not waver as he swiftly brought his own sword to meet hers; sparks flew from the collision of their blades, the deafening sound of metal against metal drowning out the roars of the all-consuming flames. "So much anger~ Why don't you take a step back and... chill up, hmm~?"

"... be silent."

Despite appearing calm and composed on the outside, the young woman fought with a blistering rage... a ferocity born of desperation and grief; her attack was swift and unrelenting, fueled by a desire to avenge her fallen comrade. Trails of red and silver followed her every move, a symphony of wrath conducted by the maestro of revenge; it was a dance of death, a ballet of destruction that unfolded in a gruesome crescendo.

Tendrils of fire rose from the ground at her behest, intertwining seamlessly with the crimson energy that swirled around her; the fusion of elements birthed a cataclysmic spectacle, every swing of her blade igniting the very air with furious flames — the residual heat creating a blistering aura that scorched all in its vicinity. Each strike was a form of art, a choreography of blades that left no room for hesitation nor mercy; their weapons — twin conduits of violence and retribution — locked in a lethal embrace, each inch of exposed steel grinding against the other, their grueling battle echoing throughout the cavern in a cacophony of shrieking metal.

"W-well... t-this is actually harder than expected." He grunted, his cocky facade faltering momentarily as he struggled to maintain his defense against the relentless assault; beads of sweat formed on his brow as the pressure mounted, his strength and confidence beginning to wane under her ceaseless barrage. "H-hey! You guys! A-a little help over here!?"

Her response to his shout was a silent one; her eyes — crimson as blood — seemed to burn with an otherworldly fire, their intensity unwavering as they bore into the man's soul. The ground trembled beneath her feet, and the very air around them crackled with the sheer force of her will.

"... begone."

With a final, thunderous clash, she sent the man flying with a brutal force that left him gasping for breath; he crashed into the cavern wall, leaving an indentation in the stone as his body crumpled to the floor — blood trickling from his mouth as he struggled to rise.

In the wake of her devastating strike, a shockwave rippled outward from the epicenter, a visceral manifestation of her unbridled power; it was a concussive force that defied the laws of nature, a wave of fire and energy that sent rocks and debris hurtling in all directions. The cavern itself seemed to recoil from the aftershocks of her rage, the force of her wrath was such that it was enough to alter the path of the projectiles that had been aimed at her from the distance — sending it careening harmlessly off-course.

She could hear the whistle of the arrows through the haze of her mind, barely registering the threat before she spun gracefully — her pure white cape billowing like a ghostly shroud as she parried another attack. Her assailant — a young woman on the cusp of her twenties — stood a few meters away, her face set in a mask of determination as she continued to thrust the gleaming spear in her hand with a ferocity that belied her age.

She recognized the move for what it is. [Cyclone Barrage]; a rather advanced skill that would grant its user the capability to unleash over a dozen deadly strikes in quick succession, with each strike accompanied by several other illusory ones. It was an attack that could only be performed by someone with at least a Lv. 30 proficiency in a class related to the spear, meant either to confuse and swiftly kill their foes, or to keep them on the defensive. Still, that her assailant could invoke the technique without so much as uttering a word was a credit to her name.

'Could be one of the famed [Dragoon],' the idea passed through her mind before it was quickly dismissed, her body moving with a fluid grace as she weaved and danced through the onslaught. 'No, too young; most likely a [Spearmaster], then...'

Nonetheless, while all that skill, determination, and youth could translate well enough, it does not mean that she is immune to making a fatal mistake, especially in the heat of battle; all it takes is little bit of a feign — a subtle shift in her stance, a moment of uncertainty masked by a facade of confidence.

The Spearmaster's eyes glistened with the anticipation of victory, fixated on the false notion of vulnerability. In her haste to land the finishing blow, she overextended one of her strike; the tip of her spear sailed past its mark, leaving her momentarily off-balance, exposed, and vulnerable. It was a fraction of a second, nothing more than a hair's breadth of hesitation... yet in the unforgiving dance of combat, it might as well have been an eternity.

Seizing the advantage, she stepped forward, her jet-black greatsword becoming a extension of her will — its trajectory aimed with lethal precision. Her assailant's eyes widened in terror as she realized her grave mistake, her spear now rendered useless by the swift and calculated maneuver of her adversary. Time seemed to slow as the blade cleaved through flesh and bone; the gruesome sound of metal slicing through sinew echoed throughout the cavern as the Spearmaster's arm was severed from her body in a gory spray of red. A blood-curdling scream erupted from her lips, only to be cut short as her voice was choked by the very same torrent of blood that cascaded from her severed limb.

The young woman showed no remorse in the face of this horrific spectacle; her crimson eyes remained unflinchingly locked onto her assailant's terrified gaze. With a motion that seemed almost choreographed, she caught the spear mid-air, the steel shaft slick with blood. In the same breath, she reversed her grip, and without a hint of hesitation, drove the weapon straight through her assailant's open mouth; her eyes bore witness to the light leaving her victim's gaze — her life ebbing away as she continued to gurgle on her own blood, her body convulsing in its final throes.

She allowed the moment to linger for just a few more seconds before she withdrew the spear from the lifeless body, letting it fall to the cold, unforgiving ground with a dull thud. Her expression remained one of quiet resolve and icy determination, her beauty only seemed to be enhanced by the savage brutality of the moment; she swung her greatsword to clean the blood from her blade, the silver highlights now tainted with the deep red of her adversaries.

An eerie silence fell over the chamber, save for the crackling of the dying flames and the distant cries of the man who had been thrown into the wall earlier. She walked amidst the carnage, allowing her feet to take her toward the broken body of her first adversary — his form twisted and battered from the force of her retaliation; the young woman continued to approach him with a measured pace, each step echoing throughout the cavern like a death knell as she scanned her surroundings with a vigilant gaze.

'These signatures... a camouflaging spell?'

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A frown creased her delicate features as she tried to focus her senses, her eyes narrowing as her heightened perception was met with a disconcerting burst of static; she closed her eyes for a brief moment, attempting to clear her mind and pierce through the interference... and yet, the more she strained, the more the static persisted — its presence obscuring her ability to discern the locations of the other adversaries lurking in the shadows.

With a soft sigh of frustration, she reluctantly shifted her focus and redirected her attention towards the person who had dared to provoke her ire. Pain and fear had long since replaced any trace of the man's earlier arrogance — his body lay broken and bloodied, limbs twisted at unnatural angles, and his mocking demeanor had been replaced by a mask of agony. Still, as she neared the fallen intruder, a small part of her mind — a part that managed to retain their calm and reason — could not help but wonder about the oddity of the entire situation.

The lack of care shown by the intruders for the death of their comrade, the way they fought with barely a fraction of their strength, the absence of support and the lack of coordination in their half-hearted attacks; they all left her with a sense of unease... and that is without mentioning the weakening of the link between herself and the core, as well as the missing [Archmage] who had orchestrated this deadly confrontation.

No... something was clearly amiss; only a fool would believe that this was nothing more than a random incursion into her sanctum.

Nevertheless, despite her growing suspicion and the clues and evidence that surrounded her, it does not change the fact that she has yet to fully ascertain the true nature of their objective. She needs more time... though unfortunately for her, time is not a luxury she can afford.

Shaking her head to clear herself of the errant thoughts, she shifted her attention back toward the man that lay sprawled before her, his cries for help now reduced to nothing more than pitiful moans; her eyes once again bore into his — blood-red orbs locked onto deep cerulean as she considered her next course of action — her fingers twirling the crimson-stained spear with an almost absent-minded grace.

"... tell me," she began, her voice laced with icy resolve as she drove the pole arm forward; its tip pierced the man's shoulder with gruesome efficiency, the sickening sound of flesh and bone giving way echoing in the cavern, drowned out only by the agonized scream that tore from the intruder's lips. "What is your purpose? What do you hope to accomplish with this attack?"

"Aarrgh!!!" His entire body convulsed in pain as she twisted the weapon, writhing and contorting beneath her as the spear continued to pin him to the ground; blood welled up around the cruel steel impaler, staining the cavern floor beneath him in a dark, viscous pool. "M-malevicus... Malevicus takes you, y-you damn bitch!"

"... I see." With a swift, and deliberate motion, she withdrew the spear from his shoulder — a hint of apathy flashing in her eyes as she proceeded to deliver a quick and calculated strike; the crimson-stained tip plunged slightly below the man's heart, entering the gap between the armored plates with an awful squelching sound.

The cavity left behind by the weapon's removal was quickly filled with the intruder's life-giving liquid, and it became apparent that the wound was not immediately fatal. It was intentional — a cruel act designed to prolong his suffering.

With an almost primal desperation, his hands began to pound against the floor in wet, frenzied slaps, their frenetic rhythm echoing his desperate struggle for life; his body convulsed as if locked in a gruesome battle — the spasm that had had plagued his form refused to yield, persisting relentlessly long after the final gasp of mortality escaped his lips. She watched him with a chilling detachment, her beautiful countenance untouched by the brutality of her actions; her gaze remained unflinching, shrouded in a veil of quiet contemplation.

'... how foolish.'

These people should have known that a fighting force of this caliber would not be enough to subdue her. To think otherwise would be to underestimate not only her strength but also her resolve — a grave mistake that would cost them dearly... after all, tens of thousands had failed, and a kingdom had had its entire armies brought down to their knees in their pursuit of her capture.

So then why? Why now? What was their purpose? Their objective? What had compelled them to mount this assault? To break her rules and to harm those who resided within her private sanctum, knowing full well that doing so would only lead to their inevitable demise?

'If their goal was not to subjugate... perhaps they are trying to assert control?' Her thoughts continued to churn as she took a step back, her feet guiding her toward the remnants of her companion while she shook her head ever so slightly. 'Unlikely; the Gem of Serenity would've put a stop to that plan before it even began.' She glanced around the cavern as she walked, her mind searching for answers in the aftermath of the gruesome encounter. 'But, then... why?'

At this point, nothing short of a miracle — a divine intervention — could tip the scales in their favor, and with the aid of her own patron deity, the possibility of such thing occurring would be negligible, at best... unless... unless... they never planned to capture her to begin with.

'And if they do somehow managed to get the help of an Astral...'

Her steps slowly came to a halt, her heels clicking against the uneven floor; he stood amidst the silence and desolation, her crimson eyes flashing with a hint of alarm as she peered back toward the corridor from which she had come — the fading embers of the once-devouring flames casting eerie, flickering shadows on the cavern walls.

'... ah... so that was their plan.'

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*CRACK*

Raw, indescribable pain assaulted her senses like a merciless tempest; it felt as if every single nerve in her body had suddenly become a conduit of searing agony — a pain so intense that words alone could not even begin to encapsulate its sheer torment. She stumbled backward, her refined facade shattered as her magic — once tamed and controlled — started to spiral into a cataclysmic frenzy. Flames erupted from her body, a raging inferno that consumed her form and the entire chamber around her.

Her very being seemed to fracture, and she let out a scream that ripped through the cavern like a banshee's wail — a haunting and gut-wrenching sound that reverberated through the very core of the cavern. It was as if her very existence had been split asunder, her mind and body pulled in opposite directions by forces beyond comprehension. The chamber itself quaked in response to her agony, rocks and stalactites dislodging and plummeting from the ceiling as the very earth trembled beneath the onslaught of her chaotic magic.

Cracks and fractures began to appear on her once-immaculate silver armor, the once-elegant attire that adorned her form now twisted and contorted. Molten silver seeped from the cracks, creating rivulets of agony that traced down her body, merging with her skin in a nightmarish embrace; her flawless, porcelain skin blistered and blackened as the metal melded with it, the lines between woman and armor blurring into a nightmarish fusion.

She fell to her knees, her body convulsing as her screams reached a fevered pitch; her eyes — once a striking crimson — began to emanate a fiery, hellish glow. The cavern's walls started to shimmer and distort, the very reality around her bending and twisting as if responding to her anguish; the entire place transformed itself into a landscape of molten rock and searing flames, the ground beneath her feet crumbling away into a sea of liquid fire. Her cry of pain were drowned out by the roar of the magma, and she felt herself sinking, her body gradually becoming one with the fiery abyss.

It should've been over... the moment of pure, unadulterated pain should have culminated in her demise, reduced to nothing more than ash and cinder amidst the cataclysmic maelstrom she had unwittingly summoned... and yet, just as she tethered on the precipice of oblivion — her consciousness barely clinging to the fringes of existence — she managed to glimpse at the fleeting, distorted images of s her consciousness teetered on the brink of oblivion, she glimpsed fleeting, distorted images of a figure at the far end of the corridor, their expressions contorted by glee and triumph.

'... it really is you, ▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️.'

Her mind retreated to a distant past — towards a memory of a time before everything had gone so terribly wrong.

She could still remember the day when she had found him — battered and broken — on the brink of death. It had been nothing more than an act of compassion... how she had nursed him back to health, tending to his wounds with gentle care. The days they had spent together, sharing stories and moments of quiet introspection. Everything had been so simple...

But then came the day when he had come to her with a request — one that she could not, in good conscience, fulfill. His eyes had clouded with anger, and his voice had trembled with a burning desire for revenge. He had sought her power to exact vengeance on those who had wronged him... and for... and for what? Some petty retribution? In that moment, he had left her without a word, his departure a silent condemnation of her choice... yet even now, she couldn't help but think if she could've done anything different.

'... was it all a mistake?'

For a brief, flickering moment, time seemed to slow to a crawl; the torment that wracked her body remained unbearable, and yet in that agonizing instant, a surge of determination welled within her.

'If this is how it must end, then I...'

Yes... if he truly sought her death, then it would only be fair for her to respond in kind...

'... I beseech thee, O Helvetica, Goddess of The End; bestow upon me the strength of thy mighty arcane.'

With sheer force of will, she wrested control and drew upon the remnants of her magic, pushing it past its limits, far beyond the boundaries that should have contained it. The flames that engulfed her roared to a fevered crescendo, intensifying in their ferocity as she tapped into an unimaginable wellspring of power.

"I-in the names... o-of the forgotten gods... I… I invoke... t-the flames... of u-ultimate reckoning."

The agony coursing through her body reached an unbearable zenith as she embarked on the forbidden chant; her words staggered and trembled — a reflection of her mortal wounds and the incredible strain she was placing upon herself.

"A tempest... of f-fire... a pyre... o-of the endless night... red... as the blood… of… of creation."

Mangled and blackened limbs twisted and spasmed as she raised her trembling hand, fingers clawing at the air in desperate supplication to the forces beyond; her eyes — once a radiant crimson — now blazed with an unholy, fiery glow as she unleashed the very essence of her life force.

"Hear my plea... a-and heed my call!"

Above her, a series of intricate magic circles began to manifest, swirling and spiraling in a furious dance — a cascade of scarlet sigils etching themselves into existence; they stretched from her wounded form all the way to the cavern's towering ceiling, encompassing her in a cacophony of arcane symbols. She gritted her teeth against the excruciating torment, her voice growing more resolute with each passing word.

"From the depths... of the Abyss! And the heights... of the Heavens! I draw forth... the rage of the Divines! The fury... of the Forsaken!"

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️'s triumphant expression contorted into one of sheer horror as he realized the magnitude of her plan — realizing too late the finality of her action. His voice wavered; fear consuming his entire being as he attempted to scream... and yet, she remained oblivious of his plea, for his words were drowned out by the thunderous crescendo of her spell.

The cavern's temperature soared to an unimaginable degree, the walls crackling and groaning under the blistering heat; the air itself seemed to ripple and warp, as though reality itself was buckling under the weight of her forbidden incantation. Fissures of amber began to appear on her skin, glowing lines of agony that pulsed with each verse of her chant. The once-searing flames that engulfed her continued to intensify; they formed an infernal whirlwind of scarlet and gold — a vortex of destruction that threatened to swallow everything in its path — rising higher and higher like an all-engulfing tempest spiraling towards its zenith.

"Burn and devour! Consume and annihilate!"

Shadows danced wildly around the cavern as the flaming vortex expanded, tendrils of crimson energy lashing out like serpents to consume the remnants of her fallen enemies. The flames licked hungrily at the charred corpses, turning them into nothing more than smoldering embers that disintegrated into ash upon contact with the inferno's wrath.

"May this requiem of the damned herald the beginning of the end!"

The entire chamber shuddered and splintered, their jagged forms succumbing to the unquenchable firestorm; molten rock dripped from the ceiling like tears of agony, while the walls themselves seemed to weep, their mineral tears forming grotesque sculptures of distorted suffering. ▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️'s figure blurred and distorted as the scorching winds of the maelstrom bore down upon him, his screams reduced to agonized wails as he attempted to ward off his inevitable end.

"[Ignis Ab Mortalium]!"