A neon-painted delinquent on the battlefield tried to stand valiant while twisting hard at the sword in his hands. Gritting his teeth, he surveyed the enemies in front of him while his ears endured the hollow music from a pipe organ playing somewhere in the area.

He faced off against a few of Lord Xavion’s fanatics. All of them were cloaked in gothic black and had crooked knives shaking in their hands.

Had the setup been for a one-on-one fight, the delinquent was confident that his younger age and superior weapon would help him win without breaking a sweat. Had it been two-on-one, a win was still no fairy tale, but chances were that he wouldn’t leave the fight without suffering some injuries.

But three-on-one… that was probably too much for him to take. At least he wasn’t shouldering this burden alone. Almost everyone in Mary Glow’s crew had to deal with more than one opponent at the same time. That’s how much their enemies outnumbered them.

“If this is a prison, then we’re the guys from the showers!”

The three fanatics cackled on their sinister intentions and rushed at the same time, intending to make easy pickings on the lone delinquent who prepared to fight to his last breath.

Then two of the attacking fanatics stopped. Slowly, they glanced down in confusion.

One of them shrieked, “Wha--! Something’s growing out of me!”

A small sharp weapon, bearing paint with a similar neon glow as their target, protruded out each of their chests.

“Finish him, Liam!”

The sudden save surprised the delinquent at first, but a familiar voice that called his name to action brought him back to his senses. He quickly disarmed his remaining opponent before ending him with a swift, decapitating swing. Following another that made two more heads roll off their shoulders, the delinquent got a clear image of the one who saved him.

“Thanks a ton, Mary!” Liam said, full of relief.

Mary Glow lifted a hand as if to say, “Don’t mention it.” With a quick pull, she reeled back her throwing spikes thanks to transparent wires tied to a square ring on the base of their hilts.

“Help out those who need it,” she instructed with a smile that oozed malicious intent just waiting to be unleashed. “And spread the word that I’ve arrived to assist.”

As if it were contagious, a similar but lesser smile took over Liam’s face. Mary Glow was just one person, but he couldn’t help but feel like the cavalry had arrived.

“Yeah.” He turned away with renewed vigor. “Roger that!”

While he ran off to help his nearest allies in trouble, Mary Glow calmly walked forth into the epicenter of the turf war, a throwing spike ready in each hand. Her cheeks were beginning to ache from the widening stretch of her maniacal smile.

Mixed reactions occurred from those within her orbit.

Most of them shivered, knowing this person bearing multiple colors was different from the thugs they were outnumbering. The rest began to rise from uncertainty, comforted by warmth like nearby flames.

The Shining Demoness had entered the battlefield. It was time to push Lord Xavion’s forces back.

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The news of Mary Glow’s arrival began. What started with one person was soon expanded by many more, and it spread throughout the battle-scarred streets of San Desquiciado like wildfire.

Newfound determination filled her forces when the news came. Their Tyrant was now literally fighting alongside them and sharing their burdens. Her act of selflessness rallied them to persevere against the opposing forces that outnumbered them 3:1.

Not long after one of her blazing sneakers stepped into the battlefield, the Tyrant of the West readied herself with a deep breath, then kicked a cloud of dust and leaves behind herself as she began a daredevil rampage through the sea of enemies.

*SHINK! BIFF! KAPOW! THWACK! SHINK! SOCK! BAM! SHINK!*

Bodies were stabbed and sent flying, or the other way around. Those ignorant enough to face the Shining Demoness herself got messed up with momentous blows comparable to breakdancing but packed more power than what was to be expected from a girl that stood 5 feet 6 inches tall.

Then one fanatic stepped up to the plate and challenged her.

“Huhuhu… Big, slow, stupid, and fighting on the side of Lord Ninnyhammer.” Mary Glow observed, one eye squinted as she caressed her chin. “Note my lack of surprise.”

She got her first word right. This fanatic was a giant almost twice her size. Bulging muscles defined his bulky figure. His legs were pillars, and just one of his arms packed the girth to grind her into dust.

Mary Glow dropped a throwing spike and held it under her foot. Both hands balled into fists and positioned themselves above and below her head. From the fanatic’s point of view, she just struck a bizarre fighting pose with her arms forming a picture frame around her face.

“I’m wide open.” Mary Glow agitated the fanatic. “But I bet you can’t touch me even if I stand still—”

Her vision was covered in an instant by a giant fist that tore through the air.

Contrary to the second word Mary Glow thought, this fanatic was fast. So fast, that she failed to react even when the blow reached a few inches away from her face.

So fast that she was unable to say the word “idiot.”

A vertical cut appeared on the fanatic’s giant fist. It started between his center knuckles then extended deeper into his arm.

Mary Glow was actually ready to defend herself. Her fists were vertically positioned in front of her head so they could hold a single line of transparent wire attached to the throwing spike under her foot. It wasn’t just sturdy; it was extremely sharp too, enough to cut through at least human flesh and muscle if given the right amount of force like say… a punch.

Instead of turning Mary Glow’s face inside-out, the giant’s fist split open down the middle into halves that formed a gap so wide that Mary Glow’s head was able to slide between them. A dissected arm wasn’t the prettiest sight, but she didn’t care.

The giant fanatic clutched his mangled hand. His hardest scream he’d ever made reverberated throughout the battlefield and brought many eyes mostly on him.

“Well, now…” Mary Glow snickered at the success of her scheme, knowing all too well that she and her opponent had become the center of attention. “Since we’ve got a few seconds of fame, how about we give something for everyone to see?”

She kicked up the throwing spike that was under her foot, caught it in midair, and then jammed it deep between his knee joints with a squelch! It forced the fanatic to a kneel and amplified his screaming. Running up his bent knee and perching herself on one of the fanatic’s massive shoulders, Mary Glow leaned forward while raising a leg behind herself. It was high enough to point to the sky.

Guess what played the ball for her improvised soccer kick?

She hopped down after doing the deed and landed clean on her feet. Behind her, the giant fanatic’s head hung loose as it spun back in three creaking revolutions before he collapsed forward from a broken neck. Others nearby felt the ground shake through their shoes.

Mary Glow hoped her performance entertained a good number of viewers. One of them, a delinquent with an unusually deep and echoing voice, couldn’t resist the urge and did it.

“FATALITY! Mary Glow wins!”

His Tyrant smirked and acknowledged him with a single nod to his direction.

With those around her still in awe on how a young woman defeated a man both bigger and stronger than her, Mary Glow took an interval to do something else. During the confusion, she hurled a throwing spike into the distance.

A fanatic dressed in a dark jacket raised his weapon for a killing blow to a delinquent who he managed to knock down and disarm. He should’ve done the deed a little sooner because not a second later, an object pierced him from behind and left him stunned.

The delinquent recovered and, with a full swing of the fire axe he retrieved off the ground, decapitated his would-be-killer.

As the fanatic’s head hovered to the air with its last expression intact (not something suitable for a selfie at least), another throwing spike pierced it through the nape and protruded out the mouth. The head zipped away before it could fall to the ground.

A yank to its transparent wire reeled the throwing spike back to Mary Glow’s hand, with a bonus severed head still attached to it. Twirling the line, she spun the head upright to a blur before slamming it against another fanatic like a flail.

An adult man’s severed head may sound like a hollow or fragile weapon, but they have an average weight of 7-8 kilograms when including the brain, muscles, and skin. All that combined weight made them heavier than a professional bowling ball – more than enough to smash other skulls, send teeth flying, and erupt geysers of blood, especially with Centrifugal force.

Mary Glow’s makeshift weapon flew at blinding speeds as she lashed it around in a gratuitous frenzy. Anyone not wearing neon paint became a target, but Mary Glow wasn’t single-minded. One fanatic tried to camouflage himself with a painted jacket he stole from the corpse of a delinquent. It didn’t take long for her to uncover his disguise. The fanatic still looked like a gothic headbanger, after all.

Mary Glow’s kill count rose quickly with the flow of time. Inhaling all those paint fumes had granted her a sense of euphoria beyond her wildest fantasies. To her, she was gleefully running with a kite through a sunflower field on a happy day (with many buds getting nipped along the way).

Despite how it seemed, the Tyrant of the West didn’t always fight as if she was a one-man-army.

In her warpath, she took every chance she had to provide for any of her delinquents in a pinch, and they guarded her blind spots in return. From a throwing spike to the back, lassoing an enemy’s legs together from afar, or any other tactic involving a throwing spike attached to a line of transparent wire, the delinquents were given an opening or a turnaround in their fights. Mary Glow even granted them the glory of delivering the killing blow to their opponents.

An adrenaline rush permeated the delinquents whenever they scored a kill. Nevermind the fact that they might’ve needed a little help. The results were all that mattered, and what they got boosted their morale even further.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

When Mary Glow stated her intentions to assist upon her arrival, she wasn’t kidding.

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“How inconceivable.”

Lord Xavion muttered that phrase despite what unfolded before his hidden eyes.

From the safety and height atop his throne, he had a spectator’s view of the entire battlefield. Only he could see that his forces were starting to cover less space on the battlefield despite their greater numbers.

The catalyst wasn’t hard to spot. There were plenty of neon colors that distinguished those who were against him, but only one of them wore multiple colors. Two small weapons orbited around her vicinity, and one of them had someone’s head attached. Anyone unaware of the transparent wires was most likely guessing that she was telepathically controlling them, but Lord Xavion knew real telekinesis when he saw it.

“Harumi.”

A young Nihanese woman in a shoulderless Gothic Lolita dress appeared by Lord Xavion’s side, Her raven hair curtained down as she pinched the left hem of her slitted skirt while curtsying a bow.

“It’s Hiromi, my liege.”

She corrected him on her name, having done so countless times before. Despite that, her smile refused to break. That upward curl of her delicate lips was one of the sweetest things to look at, but the length of time she kept it on display left some a little weirded out.

“It’s time we showed our enemies why we are considered immortal,” Lord Xavion said.

“As you command.”

After Hiromi left to do his bidding, Lord Xavion stood up from his throne and brought his hands close.

“Two can play that game,” he mused, setting his sights on his opposing Tyrant.

A pulsing mass of dark energy began to coalesce between his hands.

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Mary Glow’s killing spree continued its hot streak.

More of the battlefield became littered with the corpses, blood, and guts of her enemies not long after they had a close glimpse at the myriad of colors she wore. At the same time, the rest of her crew fought back harder than ever, their confidence partially restored thanks to their Tyrant’s presence and efforts.

Mary Glow’s delinquents believed they had the superior fighting skills and access to a more excellent selection of weapons thanks to ruling the western section, a.k.a the black market area of San Desquiciado. Guns were one example of a weapon they had over their opposition. Still, their advantages weren’t enough to overpower the sheer strength in numbers that made Lord Xavion’s forces.

As much as their numbers were, individuals from Lord Xavion’s faction were generally considered weak. Most of them wore matching hooded robes that made them look like lesser versions of their Tyrant and lacked any proper experience when it came to fighting.

Of course, “most” meant there were a few exceptions. And those few were distinguishable by their own choices of edgy, dark attire that made them look like they had a thing for the occult.

“Gu-haah!”

Right after his weapon slipped between his hands, a delinquent coughed blood from his mouth. The pronged tip of a hook sword had impaled him through his chest before dragging out his dying heart, a chunk of which was then promptly eaten.

The culprit responsible was Gerard Bordeaux, a fanatic whose enemies nicknamed him as “the confused and undecisive cannibal.”

As deadly as he was with his skilled handling of twin hook swords, what most people wondered about was Gerard’s peculiar habit of eating human hearts. From what many have witnessed, he never seemed to enjoy them. He always looked reluctant to eat a new heart even though he’d always push through, and would often make short retreats away from the battlefield to vomit whenever he looked sick. His reasons for continuing his peculiar habit had always been a headscratcher.

Somewhere else on the battlefield, a trio of delinquents went trigger-happy on one fanatic as their submachine guns unloaded a storm of bullets. They didn’t stop shooting until their firearms clicked from running out of ammo.

“Charlatans. The whole lot of you.”

A female voice taunted them with a tone that sounded dull, but also full of superiority.

Three bullets fired back in quick succession. All were headshots that killed each of the delinquents in an instant.

The fanatic closed her parasol, which, while open, had shielded her Gothic Lolita dress from getting riddled with holes. Not only did it compliment her clothes, but it was also made from layers of a unique black lace that just proved itself to be bullet-proof. The parasol also functioned as a rifle. Its trigger was located on its crook handle, and its speared tip served as the barrel.

She was none other than Hiromi Kobayakawa, who had just returned to the battlefield after fulfilling the task Lord Xavion gave her. As the only member of his faction to wield a firearm, it was ideal for her to be stationed in locations where she could snipe enemies from a distance.

But that wasn’t how she preferred to immerse herself in violence.

After impaling her parasol through another delinquent’s stomach like a lance, Hiromi shot through him at anyone else that tried to attack her. She then drew out a stiletto knife from a strap on her right thigh and slit a wide gash across her captive’s throat.

Hiromi’s smile never faded despite all the thick blood gushing out like a fountain toward her face and dress. She actually savored every second of it until there was no more blood for her to bathe in.

Those two were just a couple of examples regarding the more notable fanatics within Lord Xavion’s faction. Mary Glow failed to encounter neither Gerard nor Hiromi during her rampage around the battlefield.

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Regardless of what continued to hinder them, such as Lord Xavion’s strongest fanatics or his pipe organ still playing its irritating music in the background, things were looking better for Mary Glow. Her enemies were raking up in casualties while her side suffered less ever since she graced the battle.

So why? Mary Glow couldn’t shake off that feeling as she stabbed two throwing spikes through a fanatic’s throat before tearing it apart. Why does it feel like we aren’t going anywhere?

Four more fanatics swarmed her. They wore the same hooded robe and wielded the same crooked knife like the one she just killed, and they tried to attack her from all sides while she was still deep in thought.

Their predictability was the reason why they were all disposed of without forcing Mary Glow to shift her thoughts, but it took her longer than before to take out this quartet of people.

She saw how they all looked the same and that left a burnt-out impression. It was a state of Déjà vu like she was fighting and killing the same person over and over again without her efforts amounting to anything.

Hang on, now.

Something began to click in her.

Then she traced a faint glow, one unlike her own, and coming from the right corner of her eyes.

Hovering her way was a big and pulsating sphere of dark energy!

Mary Glow observed its movement. She didn’t need to rack her brain to know that thing could easily swallow her whole and scraped one of her sneakers into the battlefield’s rough asphalt. When the time was right, she fell to her left with outstretched arms and performed a cartwheel.

From what she could tell, the sphere was big and fast but not impossible to avoid, which was proven correct as she got a glimpse of it blurring past her side.

Landing on her feet, she looked back and felt the strain of her eyes grew twice their size.

Not long after it missed its target and traveled a short distance, the sphere changed directions with a U-turn and was instantly back in the chase.

Mary Glow clicked her tongue. She tried to gain some distance with a series of backward handsprings before using the momentum to somersault into the air, higher than she could ever jump. An arching movement of her back allowed her to avoid the sphere, which passed under her barely.

Landing on her feet once again, Mary Glow observed the sphere and checked if its pattern was set to repeat itself.

She dodged again with another acrobatic maneuver. It turned out the sphere was relentless with imperfect but dangerous tracking ability. Mary Glow knew she couldn’t last forever like this, but she had to escape somehow.

Then the answer hit her.

“Hey, Lord Hoarder!” She called out at the top of her lungs, “I’m gonna need some of your guys! I’m sure you won’t mind, though, since you’ve got plenty to spare!”

“What?” Lord Xavion’s voice lost its deep tone for a moment. “No, you can’t!”

Mary Glow formed a stance, feet sliding apart while her arms crossed around her head. “That wasn’t a question.”

As many throwing spikes as possible jutted out between her fingers before she threw a flurry of them in every horizontal direction. When tensions seeped from their wires to her fingertips, Mary Glow tugged her arms back and twirled herself in place, fast enough to blend the colors decorating her body.

Her twisting motions left her tied in her transparent wires, but more importantly, it also snagged in a bunch of fanatics and forced them to gather around her.

They unwillingly formed a human barrier around Mary Glow and were just in time to meet the big sphere of dark energy too. It became clear that its relentlessness to chase its target was not only a strength; it was also a weakness.

A choir of screams coursed throughout the barrier’s layers when it met the sphere. It was the kind anyone would make when suffering a slow and painful death.

And then it was over. One person emerged unscathed from a small pile of dying screams and disintegrating fanatics.

“What a riot!” Mary Glow cried, stretching her arms loose from their bindings. “Wanna do it again?”

Lord Xavion said nothing. Of course, the look on his face couldn’t be seen, but Mary Glow had an idea of what kind he was pulling off. She also took his silence as a “no.”

Now that she’d proven she had a means of defense in case he tried to attack her from a distance, Mary Glow shifted back to her original goal.

Another wave of fanatics rushed to attack her, but instead of fighting them, she jumped and leaped off one of their faces then traversed through the sea of enemies by skipping on the heads and shoulders of other fanatics as if they were footstools. Anyone who saw her coming and tried to intercept received a free throwing spike punctured deep into their heads. Once again, Mary Glow had her background in gymnastics to thank as she raced closer to an instrument of wood, metal pipes, and melancholic music.

“She intends to destroy the organ!” Lord Xavion rallied his followers and gathered more dark energy into his hands.

Mary Glow’s change of pace came from a realization that there was no point in killing more of Lord Xavion’s fanatics. She’d grown weary from killing enemies who all wore the same hooded robe, and that told her something when she pondered on it alongside a statement Niko recently said.

As usual, we’re outnumbered with our enemies covering most of the streets.

Now that she had a better look at the situation, the battlefield seemed to have reverted to its state from before she joined in. Lord Xavion’s forces were once again occupying a majority of it despite the many casualties they’ve inflicted on them.

“Now I get it,” Mary Glow talked to herself so she could better piece together the puzzles in her thoughts. “It looks like we’ve accomplished nothin’ because Lord Jerkwad’s forces have extras that he’s usin’ as reserves. If he started with, let’s say, five-hundred of his goons, then he’ll try to keep it at around that number regardless of what happens. If I kill ten of his men, he’ll immediately replace them with ten reserves. I know this because I’ve read about this tactic before in a history book. It’s the one that makes it seem as if your army is immortal! The fact that most of your goons look the same with their tacky robes only sells the point even more!”

Soon enough, her traversing brought her to a reasonable distance from the organ. Mary Glow leaped as hard as she could off a fanatic’s head and soared toward the musical instrument. A pair of throwing spikes she clutched in reverse grips were ready to help her chip it down to size.

“Converge, my brethren! Do not let her pass!”

Before Mary Glow knew it, the robed fanatics in her way had already climbed over each other to form a human tidal wave more than towering enough to block her path. It was only because of their numbers and subservience to one man that this ridiculous maneuver was made possible. As they prepared to crash down on her, they chanted in unison for the Tyrant they served.

“AVE! DOMINUS!! XAVIOOOOOOOOOOOONNN!!!”

The colors decorating Mary Glow went brighter as a massive shadow loomed over more than just her. Readying her throwing spikes, she did nothing else before the human tidal wave sent her back to the ground and swallowed her whole.

In the aftermath of the crash, the noises died down a little. Every fanatic that made the tidal wave made little to no movement. Doing that maneuver was not without its drawbacks.

Then a faint sound thrashed about from within the pile of fanatics.

It grew louder.

And louder.

And louder.

Until a young woman emerged from the pile, having stabbed her way out.

Mary Glow howled to the night sky once she realized she was breathing fresh air again. Her clothes had become ravaged from her struggle, and her exposed skin showed cuts and signs of bruising.

She could’ve taken the easy way out of the pile by going through its sides. Instead, she chose to climb to the top, so that every delinquent taking part in the turf could see her. Both those on the battlefield and those waiting back at camp witnessed their Tyrant overcoming a powerful obstacle. None of them wanted someone like her to go to waste.

But it’s not like that was enough for them. The sheer number of Lord Xavion’s forces were genuinely vast.

Now surrounded, Mary Glow pushed herself to her limits as she spun and took down every fanatic that tried to attack her. Despite her best efforts, enemies only continued to swarm toward her from all sides. The matching robes of these attackers continued to disillusion her that no matter how hard she tried, they were never going to stop coming. The pipe organ, which was just a stone’s throw away from her, remained safe from harm. Its current organist, a fresh face taking over for his exhausted colleague, began the music anew with higher intensity. The disrupting effects started to take their toll on Mary Glow’s ears.

She edged closer to her limit regarding everything that was affecting her. Finally, she braced herself and closed her eyes.

“Somebody… Anybody… PLEASE SHUT THAT ORGAN UP! I BEG YOU!! MAKE IT STOOOOOOP!!!”

And it did, following a loud crash.

A commotion comparable to a road accident stole everyone’s attention. Mary Glow opened her eyes to the source and couldn’t believe what Deus Ex Machina just happened.

A big, rectangular object on wheels had accelerated downhill toward a speed bump before flying through the air and smashing into the pipe organ’s peak, submerging half of itself while also rendering the huge instrument incapable of playing its music correctly.

Three people were riding this wheeled object: A teenage boy with black hair and a harness of weapons, a teenage girl with bronze hair and a sense of fashion, and a blond man wearing a peculiar gauntlet on his right arm.

“Huh…” Mar Glow looked on, almost in utter disbelief, at how the first prayer she’d done in over a decade had been answered right after she did it. “I guess there is a god.”