If not for her slouch, Dahlia would have stood at seven-feet, her body bare and scaly. Foltrus could make out the hint of musculature beneath her scarlet plates, signalling that her build was more compact than lean. Her facial features made him think of a blind drawing of a human face, the strokes too broad and disjointed, creating a monstrosity rather than man. Curiously enough, he saw no marks on her scales: no gashes, cuts, or even scratches, an impossibility for one who wore a shroud as thick with death as she did.
“I was savouring the hunt,” Foltrus replied to her taunt, spinning the morning star in his hand.
“Oh, I’ll savour you, alright,” she said without missing a beat, striding forward.
Foltrus frowned at her lack of caution, somewhat bemused but still eager to start. When Dahlia stepped into range, he swung his right arm, flicking the giant morning star at her. As expected, she dodged in the nick of time, stepping back in line with his swing. However, he wasn’t finished just yet as the spiked, glowing ball at the end of his morning star separated from its shaft and continued racing forward.
He delighted in her ugly expression of surprise as the ball crashed into her breast and flung her back. She flew through the air, wildly waving her limbs in momentary panic and landing with marked inelegance while the ball splashed into the swamp water beside her. Glancing down, she saw the scales over her breast had cracked and that blood was seeping through the scarlet shards. She cast her palm over the wound, then lifted her hand and licked her blood off of its surface, her countenance twisting into that of a ravening beast’s.
This time, there were no words said between them when she advanced once more. While she came, Foltrus twirled the morning star turned bludgeon in his hand, readying himself. He swung overhand in a smashing blow, sacrificing speed for power as the bludgeon streaked past her dodging figure and crashed into the ground. An explosion of murky water answered, obscuring both of their visions. All the same, he didn’t need to see to know what was coming next.
She lunged at him, her cruel black claws nearing, but his spiked ball returned quicker than she did: while he had distracted her with his clumsy attack, he had simultaneously commanded the ball to rise from the water behind her and shoot her from her flank. It hammered right into her back, driving the breath from her lungs as the unseen attack tore through scale and flesh. Its force threw her into his waiting free hand, his fingers curling around her hips and gripping tight.
While she gazed at him in a daze, he sneered and tossed her away like trash, connecting his bludgeon back to the spiked ball to reform the morning star. In the distance, she massaged her back and spat in his direction. “Fuck, you’re really working up my appetite, boy.”
“I hope you’ll take this seriously now,” he replied, finding her drivel dreary compared to the thrill of combat. He had already decided that he would only grant her the sweet release of death when she put on a due performance, one galvanising enough for Tyr himself to shine down on them with celestial applause.
“Oh, I was, but I didn’t expect such an annoying weapon.” She stretched her limbs as if limbering herself, although he figured it was more a deliberate show of ignoring his presence.
His lips curled into a wry smile.“There’s far more to it. Look.” The spiked ball disconnected once more and tore through the air towards her. It didn’t even give her an opportunity to dodge before it exploded into a flash of blinding light. He closed his eyes and opened them after three heartbeats, relishing at the sight of her caged in a skin-tight mana barrier with glowing blue shards embedded in her scales. They burned and seared her flesh, and it showed in her agonised expression. All the same, she had no way of ripping them out since the mana barrier restricted all movement. Even if that didn’t kill her, he knew the lack of breath eventually would, although he intended to release her just before that happened: he was only doing this to rile her up into a frenzy.
However, he instead found himself gaping at the Abomination as Dahlia bit into the barrier, tearing a hole in it with a single bite. When it became obvious that the mana barrier couldn’t hold her for much longer, he collapsed the prison and the spiked ball rose out of the swamp water again, absorbing the remaining mana from the barrier. It was no longer at full charge with the damage she had done, but that was no matter since he could easily fill it up again. He summoned it back and waited for it to return, when, without warning, Dahlia lunged and snatched it from the air.
Foltrus shook his head at her folly and activated procedure three, causing the spikes to rapidly enlarge and gore into her hands. To his amusement, though, she didn’t drop it even then, and he was about to activate another procedure when she suddenly sunk her teeth into the ball, spikes and all. The morning star was made of magic-reinforced metal, the sort that could take decades of abuse and still persist, and so he immediately sensed something was wrong when it signalled to him it had taken critical damage. She crunched through the ball and spikes, her mouth gushing out blood like a waterfall, but it hardly seemed to inconvenience her as her wounds healed at a visible rate with every bite.
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In a roar of anger and panic, Foltrus bound forward, barreling towards her with his bludgeon raised for a fearsome attack. He swung and connected, cracking through her shoulder and disabling an arm, but she didn’t care as she pounced at him. The claws from her remaining arm dug into his back as she wrapped her legs around his and chomped into his chest. His reinforced armour ripped and his skin split right after, his massive constitution failing to even hold her off for a second.
Foltrus tried to push her off, punching, elbowing, and shoving at her, but she refused to budge, slobbering over his chest, devouring metal, flesh, and bone. Her wounds disappeared as her scales reconnected, healing her broken arm again. She drove both arms into his chest, the black claws finding purchase in his ribs as she tore his chest apart in a feat of Herculean strength. The ogre resisted in every way he could in that moment, but his manastone weapon refused to respond, his abilities failed him, and his dominant strength fizzled out without a bang.
It was half an hour later that Dahlia finished up, yawning and stretching with gore splattering her face and tendrils of flesh dangling down. It might have been a momentous kill to others, but to her it was just another E-5 in the belly: at least it had been a succulent one. Searching for her spot again, she ambled over and made herself comfortable, drifting off to sleep with sweet dreams of more meals on wheels.
****
Ish slipped in through the door, inwardly cursing at its creak. A few hours had passed since his talk with Silas, and it was now night, but his vision wasn’t affected whatsoever. He silently crossed the bedroom and loomed over the bed, sucking in a breath before he jabbed Krisa’s face.
The blue nymph woke with a start, breathing deeply and heavily against the hand he had clamped to her mouth: a precaution against screaming. Her panic lessened considerably when she recognised the masked ryfin, and he gestured her to get up. Although she was nude, she had no qualms about displaying her body to Ish as she rose from the covers without hesitation. Next to her, her lover for the night grumbled in his sleep, rousing slightly at her movement. However, before the human could awake, Ish knocked him out with a swift strike to the head.
Krisa leaned in excitedly and whispered in his ear like an overly eager child who had just been told an embarrassing secret. “What’s up? Are you going to fuck me in front of him?” If she could have seen the expression underneath his mask, she would have known that he was very much not in the mood for such an act.
“We’re leaving Riverside,” he said, his voice hoarse and tense.
“What? Why?” she asked, her giddiness turning to worry. “I like it here, though.”
“Everyone’s going,” Ish barked back, “We’re all being called back to Lyfort, effective immediately.”
“What’s going on? Did the Avatars come to a decision at last? Is it bad?” she fired in quick draw.
He shook his head. “I don’t know, but Kore wants us all out of here at once. And we’re not to notify the humans about it.”
“Oh,” she said lamely, her mind working circles until it finally drew to a conclusion. Exhaling deeply, she crossed the room and picked up her clothes, putting them on but lacking her usual chipper spirit. “Let’s go then.”
****
Sprinting all through the night, the host of Order troops returned to Lyfort just as the horizon was glowing amber for dawn. While the rest of them checked through security, Ish went on to Kore’s office where the satyr sat gazing out of his wide windows. His tumbler lay on the table unused as he chugged right from the bottle.
Closing the door behind him, Ish scoured the room for a moment while Kore ignored his actions. “What’s going on? Why did you call us back like that? Do you understand how much goodwill we’re going to lose from such a move?”
The satyr flung the bottle behind him, hitting a wall and shattering as rich liquid and pointed glass pooled on the floor. He didn’t show any intention of answering the ryfin, though.
“Remember how I told you Silas had become one of their rankers - he came by today asking for help. That could have been our opportunity to make him ours, but now the entire village will be suspicious of us since not only did we sneak away in the night but we also knocked out everyone who saw us,” Ish continued. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Kore, because I’m only losing faith in you when you order idiocy like this.”
At last, the handsome satyr swivelled his chair around and shrugged, gracing the ryfin with a hideous grin. “I don’t know, Ish, I don’t know. It wasn’t my call.”
Confusion swamped Ish’s face until he made the connection: there were only a select group of people who could give Ish direct orders. “The Avatars! So they finally made their decision?”
Kore nodded slowly, his features slack from the liquor. “Humanity has been deemed too high a risk to be left alive; the Avatars placed them at an even greater danger level than the mycelia, although I guess it’s not too surprising when one of their kind murdered Foltrus.”
The masked ryfin froze up, suddenly becoming aware of how damp and chilly his back was. “They killed Foltrus? That’s…impossible?” He gaped for a long moment until eventually he found his voice again. “You should have told me this back then; we could have done severe damage to those humans before we left. We can’t let this go unpunished!”
The satyr burst into great booming laughter at this, his chest heaving up and down, still giggling to himself somewhat even as he calmed. “Oh, Ish, we think so alike. Unfortunately, it’s all out of our hands from here. All the other settlements have been given the right to attack whenever they please, but we’re to turtle up until the Avatars arrive.”
“Why would they…” Ish caught his words in his throat and almost choked. He shook his head in complete disbelief, “Dear Tyr, no!”