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Sunflower Phoenix
Party time - Maribelle

Party time - Maribelle

Party time — Maribelle

In the center of Salsvale, there is a steep hill that pokes up above the surrounding buildings, on top of which stands an ancient cathedral. It’s a place where the gods of the white pantheon are worshipped. The church has shining stained glass windows and white marble walls, covered with majestic depictions of four-eyed humanoid beings.

In front of the cathedral, there is a large open-air courtyard. It’s an enormous stone balcony that extends out from the side of the hill, raised on thick marble pillars.

I look off the edge. The whole city can be seen stretching out below me. The sun is starting to set, but main street is still teeming with people. Tall walls stretch up into the sky in the distance.

From behind me, I hear the sounds of laughter and conversation. Long tables are lined up in the courtyard, and wealthy people from across the city have gathered here to socialize and eat. Most of the people here are awakened. Hundreds of auras mingle, tickling my back. I seem to be the only one who opted for modesty in that regard. I idly run my fingers along the beads of my magical bracelet. I really have to thank Ferry’s girlfriend again later. So far, I’ve received almost no attention at all today.

Cynthia rests her hand on my shoulder.

“They’ll be here soon,” she says.

I turn around and look up towards the church.

There is one table, elevated above the others, at the top of a staircase in front of the cathedral. There are several seats lined up behind it, all empty, all meant for the Arvali family.

Cynthia and I make our way to one of the tables. We sit down fairly close to the Valbeck family but not within speaking range. A feast of delicious smelling food is arrayed on the tables. My stomach growls, but nobody is eating. They seem to be waiting for something.

From inside the church, a group of people emerge, their bodies draped in silk and jewelry. Most of them have white hair and red eyes, their distinctive familial trait. They are followed by a group of bodyguards in enchanted plate armor, each of whom has a monstrous aura.

The king, Langton Arvali, walks in front, a tall golden crown on his head, studded with rubies. His aura would have been the strongest I’ve ever seen in a human, if not for his son walking behind him.

Theonius Arvali struts with a confident smirk, looking down upon the crowd. I can immediately sense his seed of power, a fragment of energy steeped in the divine voice of a being of incomprehensible power. It sends a shiver down my spine. He’s dangerous.

Behind the crown prince, there is a young woman around my age. She smiles and waves at the gathered people. Her mother, the queen, is behind her. She’s a tall woman with long brown hair tied up in a bun.

“You should lower your head, Maribelle,” Cynthia says.

I ignore her. The Arvali won’t notice me. There are too many people here.

The Arvali sit down at the elevated table. The king clears his throat.

“Welcome, my subjects, to the one-hundredth anniversary of my family’s reign. It was one century ago today that my grandfather took the head of Michael Gladrius, becoming the emperor of Salsvale by right of his strength.”

“He calls himself emperor? He just rules one city though, right?” I whisper to Cynthia.

“Shh!” She says.

“It was by right of our strength that we gained our sovereignty, and now, that strength has been recognized by the gods themselves. It is on this day that I wish to officially announce that the church of white has declared my son, Theonius Arvali, to be a saint.”

The crowd applauds. Practiced, enthusiastic cheers and claps echo off the face of the looming cathedral.

“We are no longer mere leaders among men. On the day of Theonius’s coronation, Salsvale will be ruled by a divine being that transcends humanity. He will be god-emperor, ruling by right of the power bestowed upon him by Zenath himself!”

So stupid. Theonius is strong, but he’s definitely not on the level of a god. Not even close.

Theonius floats up into the air, carried up by a powerful updraft of wind. He holds up his arms as he hovers above the courtyard.

“Behold absolute power,” he says.

In an instant, the hundreds of powerful auras in the courtyard wink out of existence, even those of the king and his guards. Only Theonius’s aura remains, shining above like the sun that smothers the stars. A potent commandment in Zenath’s divine voice suffuses the air.

‘Mortals shall not wield the power of their spirits.’

Everyone in sight is completely cut off from their magic. In Theonius’s presence, they are nothing more than ordinary people. Their faces turn pale at the realization that they would die from an angry thought. The power they took for granted and considered an integral part of their identity is gone like it was never even there in the first place.

There is silence, the gathered nobles look up at Theonius in awe.

“This is my Sovereign Domain, the divine manifestation that I earned from the heavens. As you can see, I am invincible. Only gods can stand before me as equals.”

I can feel my heart beating faster. If this is the kind of overpowered ability that comes from a seed of power, I’m not looking forward to fighting against the heroes in the coming war. Theonius probably hasn’t even fully developed this power. He’s only had it for a few years.

Theonius’s eyes land on Kevin Valbeck. It takes me a moment, but I notice it too. Although Kevin’s aura is even weaker than it usually is, there is still something there, a tiny fleck of power that in any other situation would be barely worth notice.

Theonius drifts down, landing beside the frightened boy. Everyone watches on in silence, waiting to see what the prince will say to the kid who somehow resisted his invincible power.

“You will be my opponent in the royal tournament. I expect to be impressed,” he says.

Kevin turns pale.

Theonius snorts out a laugh at him, and turns to Richard.

“I heard about your heir. Fate finally caught up to him. This one better be less pathetic.

Richard grits his teeth, but bows his head.

“What does he mean by that?” I ask Cynthia quietly.

“They didn’t tell you? Four years ago, at the last royal tournament, Damien participated. He was matched against his best friend Lawrence and lost. Since Damien’s showing was unimpressive, the crowd booed. Lawrence refused to kill him, though, so Langton Arvali personally killed Lawrence instead. After that, Damien, well, let’s just say things went downhill for him after that.”

“Huh.”

Theonius chuckles at Richard’s pained expression.

“You don’t look very hopeful,” he says.

“Your majesty, I—”

“Holy majesty. I’m a saint now. Did you not hear? Address me properly.”

“My deepest apologies, your holy majesty.”

“You were going to say something?”

Richard bites his lip nervously, taking a moment to gather his courage.

“Your holy majesty, I beseech you not to judge the Valbeck family on Kevin’s meager strength. Please give me a few years to sire a new heir.”

Theonius chuckles and looks at the king.

“What do you think, father?”

The king frowns, looking at Richard with his arms crossed.

“Richard Valbeck, you have stooped too low. After your heir’s disgraceful performance in the previous royal tournament, he fled the city to avoid facing his weakness. Now, you ask us to give your family a second chance? Know your place.”

“My deepest apologies, your majesty.”

“Richard Valbeck, I hereby strip you of your title of High Lord, Joseph is now the head—”

“What?!” Richard shouts, outrage visible on his face.

“Did you just interrupt me, Richard Valbeck?”

Richard’s eyes widen. He shakes his head, remaining silent.

“Good. As I was saying—”

“I think he did, father. He definitely interrupted you,” Theonius says, smirking.

The king sighs.

“Very well, Theonius. Please punish him accordingly.”

Theonius grabs Richard by the hair, effortlessly tossing him like a rag doll onto the stone floor.

“Please have mercy,” Richard begs.

Theonius places his foot on Richard’s head, pressing the face of the former Valbeck lord to the ground.

“Richard Valbeck, you spoke out of place in the presence of the emperor. Everyone knows the consequences of such a crime.”

“I didn’t meant it, your holy majesty, please!”

Theonius raises his foot, preparing to stomp down.

“Stop! He doesn’t deserve this!” Cynthia shouts.

Theonius stomps down, squishing Richard’s head like a melon. The gruesome crunching sound is followed by a shocked silence. Theonius glares at Cynthia.

“Cynthia Dawnsmith, today is a joyous occasion, so it would be best if only one of our High Lords has to die. Now, tell me, how do you plan to apologize?”

She gulps. A tear drips down her cheek as she touches the crystal hanging on her neck.

“However you want me to, your holy majesty,” she says.

“A woman after my heart,” he says.

Theonius waves his hand, and his empty chair at the king’s table catches fire. A few seconds later, there is only a pile of ash in the space beside the king’s throne.

“It seems that we’re down one chair for the evening. I’ll need a replacement.”

I’m a bit confused, but Cynthia seems to understand.

“I volunteer, your holy majesty,” she says.

“Go then.”

She slowly walks down the aisle between the tables and climbs the steps, approaching the elevated table where the Arvali family are sitting. She kneels down and crawls underneath it.

Cynthia positions herself on all fours over the pile of ashes where the prince's chair used to be.

Theonius sits on top of her.

"Well, now that we've got the unpleasantries out of the way, how about we all start enjoying our lovely dinner," Theonius says.

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Gradually, everyone starts eating, hesitantly resuming their conversations with forced smiles.

This is bullshit. How can people just act like this is normal?

Cynthia looks at me from under the table, shaking her head. She doesn't want me to save her.

Cynthia remains motionless, playing the role of a chair perfectly. Theonius is still releasing his suppressive power, so Cynthia has no ability to strengthen her body with magic. After a couple minutes, her frail arms begin to tremble as she struggles to bear the weight. She locks her arms resolutely, determined not to bring anything worse upon herself.

Theonius frowns when she stops trembling. While cutting a roasted carrot with a steak knife, he slips his thumb underneath the blade and cuts himself, actively removing his aura from his thumb so that the ordinary blade can wound his magical flesh. He lifts up his hand, spilling a couple drops of blood onto the tablecloth.

"Oops, I cut my thumb. Chair, why don't you give me that life crystal of yours so that I can heal myself."

Cynthia's eyes widen.

"No. Please don't take it from me. Please," she begs quietly.

Theonius smirks.

"Okay, I'll let you keep it, but in addition to being my chair, you'll be my knife holder."

"That's fine."

Theonius grabs the knife in his hand so that the blade points down. Cynthia closes her eyes and grits her teeth. With a swift blow, Theonius swings the knife down to his side, burying it between Cynthia's legs.

She squeals in pain, her fingernails digging into the hard stone floor.

"Chairs are quiet."

She stops making noise, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood.

I stand up.

Everyone turns their heads towards me. The awkwardly forced conversations become silence once more. I walk down the aisle, straight towards the king's elevated table.

I look Theonius in the eyes as I approach. His expression starts as surprise, then becomes curiosity, and finally annoyance.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asks.

I remove my bracelet. His eyes widen.

His domain only stops the magic of mortals. He doesn’t even know what that means.

Mortality, as the gods define it, is the absence of the divine voice.

I snap my fingers, exploding the king's head, crown and all. He has no defense, his magic completely suppressed by his son's divine power.

"On my authority as the new empress of Salsvale, I sentence Theonius Arvali to death."

The king's table shatters into a mist of sawdust when I shred it with a thought. I step forward, not stopping for a moment.

Theonius is slow to react, cold shock in his eyes as he stares at his father's headless corpse. I summon my blade and slam the edge into his stomach. A thunderous wave of entropomancy surges through his body and out his back, shattering the whole cathedral behind him to pebbles. The momentum of my strike sends his body flying off Cynthia and into the night sky, his trajectory arching over the pile of rubble that was once an ancient monument to the gods.

Annoyingly, he's not dead.

The auras of everyone else on the balcony suddenly wink back into existence, likely a result of the prince being knocked far enough away for his domain to no longer reach us.

Cynthia looks up at me, tears on her cheeks, blood on her chin, and sawdust in her hair.

"Maribelle, what have you done?"

She teleports away. Good. The teleportation trap is obviously a safer place than here. This is a war zone now.

“Murderer! You killed daddy!” The princess screams, her spirit releasing a manifestation.

‘Sleeping Nocturne!’

My ears start ringing and a strange pressure smothers me. I stumble as I am overwhelmed by intense drowsiness. In terms of her aura, the princess is weaker than me. Even so, this manifestation is terrifying. It was almost enough to knock me out instantly.

No, I can’t sleep here. I’ll die!

“Royal guards! What are you waiting for? Execute her!” I vaguely hear her shout.

The sounds are muffled and my vision is blurry, but I’m brought back to my senses when a cold shock of fear hits me, my instincts screaming to run. Five terrifyingly powerful auras are preparing to unleash devastation upon me. My dulled reflexes stop me from reacting in time.

‘Temporal Freeze!’

The world around me speeds up, several seconds passing in an instant. The guards reposition themselves to encircle me, and four powerful manifestations are released in quick succession.

‘Necrotic Plague!’

Excruciating pain and nausea shoots through me as I start rotting from the inside.

‘Storm of Frozen Fangs!’

A storm of icicles slams into me. Each icy spear punches a hole straight through my body while freezing a large chunk of my flesh.

‘Titan Impact!’

Every bone shatters as an unstoppable shockwave breaks me. My inner organs rupture.

‘Yggdrasil Thunderbolt!’

The sky above me becomes a giant tree made of lightning, the trunk a massive thunderbolt that slams into me. The blast of power chars me to a crisp, just as an icicle punches a hole through my head, destroying my brain.

Fortunately, I can handle a moment without my brain. My spirit already knows what to do.

‘Divine Retribution!’

My body returns to a mostly unblemished form, though I’m still cursed with intense drowsiness and a plague that’s continuously rotting my inner organs.

A massive storm of pure destruction courses through my sword in the form of black lightning, Bezvillia’s enchantments amplifying the power even further.

I swing my blade, aiming the attack at the time mage. He seems the most troublesome.

He raises his wrist, showing a bracelet carved with swirling runic patterns in ancient cambian. A bubble forms around him, a divine promise of protection. The silent words of a god sing from within his protection charm.

‘This barrier cannot be breached.’

As my raging blast of destruction surges towards him, he looks confident. He must think his barrier is unbreakable. Understandable, considering that he probably never faced someone with the same power that made it.

“Break!” I demand.

For just an instant, the barrier falters, weakening slightly for the briefest moment. A moment is all it takes, though. My attack slams into his barrier and shatters it, no doubt inflicting a sudden headache on some god somewhere. My blast of destruction slams into his armor, shredding both the enchanted metal and the body underneath. He becomes a pulp of blood and steel.

The remaining royal guards consist of a cryomancer with a staff, a trident-wielding woman in black armor, a huge man with a mace, and a lithe swordsman whose blade crackles with lightning. In the commotion of the last few seconds, the partygoers have scattered, nearly all of them fleeing the scene of the battle.

“She somehow transferred the damage! Focus on using curses!” The trident woman shouts.

“The cooldown must be long for a manifestation that powerful. Let’s just smash the bitch,” The man with the mace says, immediately dashing towards me at a ridiculous speed.

I try to dodge his blow, but he’s insanely fast. His mace slams into my shoulder, completely smashing it and sending me flipping through the air.

The lightning swordsman is even faster, he moves in a flash and intercepts me in the air, his sword coming for my neck.

He cuts off my head.

I immediately rearrange the damage within my body. My head reattaches to me, the cut through my neck becoming a group of painful gashes in my shoulders and chest.

I land on my feet, quickly transferring the damage into the ground. Cracks form in the stone floor.

“Okay, never mind. You were right, Vanessa. Curses it is,” the mace man says.

Suddenly a whistling sound comes from above as Theonius flies down from the sky. He slams into the ground, landing on his feet while forming a crater between me and the royal guard. His Sovereign Domain is not active. Unfortunate. I was hoping he would let me kill the guards like he did with the king. He holds his hand behind him, gesturing for his guards to stand down.

“You. How did you resist my power? You’re not like Kevin. You don’t have a hero seed.”

I smirk, pointing my sword at him.

“Didn’t you say only a god can stand before you as equals?”

“Equals? Don’t make me laugh. Your aura is weak. I admit you caught me off-guard, but you won’t have a second chance.”

He moves faster than my eyes can follow, his fist slamming into my face and caving it in, the front of my skull shattering. As I fly backwards from the impact, I rearrange the damage to keep my brain functional. I see him coming for another blow. This time, I dodge on instinct, twisting my body out of the way of his strike. I counter with a slash of my sword in midair. He blocks my attack with his forearm, suffering no visible damage at all, despite the massive surge of entropomancy that comes with my blow. I hit the ground tumbling.

I roll to my feet just before the edge of the wide balcony, transferring damage to the ground.

“What a troublesome form of entropomancy. I can almost understand why my guards failed to have already ended you. However, it looks like you need touch to activate it. What if I do this?”

Suddenly, a powerful updraft of wind lifts me off the ground. I have no way to propel myself in midair. I’m trapped. A swirling ball of wind holds me prisoner, my body flipping uncontrollably in the powerful gales. My insides continue to rapidly rot from the curse. Without the ability to periodically push out the damage, I’ll just rot away.

Theonius laughs.

“Pathetic. To think someone like you killed my father. Well, perhaps I should thank you for speeding up my coronation.”

I swing my blade at him, sending out a blast of entropomancy. It shatters the ground beneath his feet.

“Stupid bitch! Don’t you realize you’re too weak to harm me?”

“I wasn’t aiming for you.”

I send out another blast. This time, I finally ruin the structural integrity of the balcony. The whole courtyard crumbles, the giant pillars that raise it off the side of the steep hill give out. A landslide of white marble boulders rolls down the hill, causing devastation on main street.

For a moment, I feel Theonius’s wind prison falter as he gets distracted by the landslide. I dive downwards, trying to reach the ground. Just before I land in the rubble below, another wind prison forms around me. I am pulled back up into the sky. Theonius is now flying as well.

“Nice try, but it’s over for you now.”

I grit my teeth. This is frustrating.

Theonius raises his hand, shooting out a torrent of fire that enters the prison of wind around me. It hurts. Fire isn’t supposed to hurt. My flesh chars and boils. The tattered remains of my party dress become ash. I try my best to resist the damage, every ounce of my power going into making my body more durable.

I just have to hold out for a couple more seconds.

My flesh burns away. My muscles become charcoal. Soon, I’m little more than a skeleton, my spirit holding on to my charred remains through sheer force of will.

Finally. The cooldown is over.

‘Divine Retribution.’

A colossal storm of black lightning courses through my blade. I concentrate the power into a single thin cutting edge of pure destruction, aiming straight for Theonius’s neck.

My attack lands, but accomplishes nothing more than cutting a shallow gash in his neck. His blood spurts out for a moment, but he glows with golden light and the wound immediately closes.

Fuck. He has healing too? That’s already at least three rights!

“Huh, you actually managed to damage me. You’re a dangerous one. I’ll end this quickly, then.”

‘Zenath’s Light.’

He holds up his hand, a brilliant orb of white light building in his palm. It’s a terrifying amount of power, an attack with the potential to kill me instantly.

“I wanted to kick your ass right away, but it looks like I’ve got to go get stronger first.”

“What are you talking about? You die here.”

The orb of light explodes out into a giant beam of energy coming towards me.

I send a blast of entropomancy into one of the two teleportation talismans strapped to my thigh. Just as Theonius’s manifestation is about to obliterate me, space warps and I’m gone.

I’m in a dark room. Runes cover every surface, except for one wall which has the bars of a prison cell. The cell door is already open.

There is a bloody steak knife on the floor in front of me. Cynthia is standing just outside the cell, leaning on the shoulder of one guard as another guard heals her. The hem of her skirt is stained with blood. She looks up at me.

“Maribelle?”

“Hi Cynthia, I’ve gotta run.”

Suddenly, another person appears in the teleportation trap with me. He’s an armored man with a staff, the cryomancer from the royal guard. Apparently he’s a spatiomancer too.

“Don’t let this one escape!” He shouts.

I attack the cryomancer with a blow from my blade. A wall of ice forms to block my strike. To my surprise, the ice is strong enough to withstand my attack. It cracks, but doesn’t shatter.

I turn to run towards the cell door, but the guards have already closed and locked it. I hit the door with my blade, trying to destroy the bars. The enchanted steel buckles under my attack. One more hit and I’ll break through.

‘Absolute Zero.’

I can’t move. My whole body is frozen solid, my blood turned to ice. It’s not just cold, though. It’s some kind of curse. I don’t think heat will be enough to thaw me.

“We know your abilities now. You don’t stand a chance, girl. Your manifestation’s cooldown is around a minute, right? Shockingly short, but it’s still more than enough time for me to kill you.”

A giant spear of ice forms in the air. It flies at me, punching a hole through my body and sending cracks throughout my frozen flesh. I try to push the damage into the ground, but the enchantments of the teleportation trap are incredibly powerful, and they resist breaking. I can move the cracks into my legs, but I can’t push them out of my feet.

One by one, spears of ice pierce my frozen body. More and more damage builds up within me. I keep spreading the damage out, keeping my body in one piece. At least this cryomancer’s ice magic curse seems to be somehow largely counteracting the curse that rots my insides.

Even if I can’t move, I can still control my entropomancy somewhat. I focus my aura on my opponent. He winces in pain, but seems mostly fine.

“Fighting back to the last. Honorable. It’s interesting that you can still use your entropomancy. My curse should have frozen your magic. You’ve proven yourself to be a formidable opponent. I’ll end you with the respect you deserve.”

‘Fist of the Ice Giant.’

A giant fist made of ice appears, instantly flying at me, carrying an insane amount of force. If this hits, it will kill me for sure. I’ll shatter like glass.

I send a blast of entropomancy into my last teleportation talisman, reappearing in the center of the room. The ice fist smashes into the cell wall, shattering into sharp fragments that fly all over the room like a storm of glass. A cold mist fills the air, reducing visibility for several seconds.

“Why can I still feel your aura?”

The cryomancer waves his hand and the icy mist condenses into snowflakes that begin to fall. He turns around and notices me behind him.

He chuckles.

“Even frozen solid, you put up an admirable struggle. Surely that was your last trick, though.”

He’s right. At this point, there’s nothing I can do. Another big attack like that will kill me.

“Goodbye,” he says.

‘Avalanche Palm.’

A swirling blizzard forms around him and he moves towards me with incredible speed, carried forwards by his magic. He thrusts out his hand, preparing to shatter me with a palm strike.

Cynthia appears beside me, and pushes me out of the way. The cryomancer flies between us, his palm hitting the cell wall and shaking the room.

“You dare interfere? This will mean your death, Cynthia Dawnsmith.”

“I don’t care anymore. After what she did for me, I can’t just let you kill her!”

He creates an ice spear and sends it flying towards her. She teleports to the center of the room.

“Ridiculous.”

He shoots another ice spear at her. This time, she tries to dodge normally, but she’s too slow, the spear pierces through her shoulder.

“In the end, you’re just as much a traitor as the rest of your family.”

He shoots out a dozen ice spears, covering the center of the room and Cynthia’s current position. She’ll die from this. My spirit screams.

‘I won’t let you kill her!’

I still have a couple seconds left on my cooldown, but it doesn’t matter. My determination forces the manifestation to activate early. I will not let her die here.

‘Divine Retribution!’

The cracks throughout my body become a storm of black lightning that shreds apart the ice spears before turning towards the floor. My manifestation slams into the enchantments of the teleportation trap, breaking them.

Suddenly, I can feel energy welling up beneath me, an eruption of raw magic of epic proportions, powerful enough to kill me instantly.

‘Cynthia, let’s get out of here!’

“Damn right!”

She grabs on to my frozen body, and teleports away with me.

Finally, I let the drowsiness win. The princess’s curse sends me to sleep. It’s all okay now.

My friend will protect me.