It was annoying how quickly everyone noticed Zemny’s spreading form. The ever-increasing amount of branches and roots growing where limbs should have only made it worse.

They also saw Isabel’s feeble form in front of the monster. They screamed and panicked, calling for help, trying to get away.

But there was nowhere to go. These people were trapped in the area by the barriers they had built and the cruel overlords that had risen in the short time since the chaos started.

Mila stood unnoticed by the masses, her cover still protecting her from all but Isabel and the remains of Zemny’s senses. She cut an attack that snapped her way, trying to judge the best way to attack. “Are you sure, Isabel?”

It wasn’t a question worth asking. Mila had already made the decision. She wanted to be more than a detached person who viewed everything from the perspective of gains and losses.

This was a chance to change herself. It would serve as a point from which Mila could become a better person - fit to stay at Isabel’s side.

And it was selfish. Mila glanced to the side from where Mr Crow’s voice echoed. Andrew was fine. She didn’t need to go and save him. He was…

Mila didn’t know what to do about Andrew. From the look of it, he wasn’t heading towards them. With the help of the wolf's nose and Mr crow’s eyes, he should know where they were.

There was a whisper behind her. Mila sighed. “At least hide.” She increased the pace with which she cut the enemy’s attack, beginning to slightly bob and weave, gauging Zemny’s reaction time.

Of course, Isabel didn’t. She struggled to stand up, fending off a stray attack or two by herself. Each of the strikes was followed by gasps and exclamations from the public witnessing them.

Perhaps these people assumed Zemny’s attacks were all cut by Isabel. Mila swung again and again, finally feeling confident in approaching the mess that was the corrupted creature.

“Don’t follow me.” Mila moved, feeling many times as powerful as just an hour ago. She had to test herself, and this idea made her pause. It didn’t feel right to use this moment to challenge herself.

And yet, there Mila was - charging an enemy instead of searching for a subtler path forward. She jumped over a swipe at her legs, then bashed the flat side of her sword against a limb to change her course.

Mila then swung down at a particularly nasty-looking root, severing it without much effort. She tried to vanish in the night, but despite her effort to erase herself from Zemny’s senses, it didn’t work.

The roof beneath Mila’s feet began to collapse. It forced her to use Zemny’s slowed, thicker limbs as steps to close in on the main body. She continued to attack but encountered a problem.

Amongst the rage-filled Zemny’s roars, Mila realised her sword could not keep up with her body. Its blade was now dull and bent - barely capable of doing damage any longer. It certainly wouldn’t be enough to finish the job.

She needed a new weapon. Mila relied on pure strength to sever several more limbs, but they seemed to never end.

A quick look around didn’t give Mila any immediate options. “Isabel. I need a weapon.” She decided to give her girl a task.

It would prevent Isabel from being near the battle and give her something to do. Of course, Mila didn’t expect Isabel to get something quickly. Her girl was too groggy for it.

But to Mila’s surprise, Isabel found a solution immediately. Her girl rose on her feet and showed the herded crowd her shield and the empty hand, making it clear she had no weapon.

While Mila used the sorry-looking remains of her sword, a new one was thrown up to Isabel. Her girl managed to catch it and then pass it to her.

Mila discarded the lump of deformed metal and caught the new weapon. She immediately started to hack and chop again, freeing a way forward through the neverendingly rising obstacles.

The gathered crowd gasped in wonder, not understanding what was happening. Mila felt some of them begin to recognise her form. The more they watched, the clearer she became.

Despite getting an incredible upgrade to her physical ability, it didn’t transfer to becoming better at casting magic. Mila heard some people call out her damned nickname.

“The Blood-Soaked Maiden!” Someone exclaimed. “It is her!”

Another voice joined. “She is saving us!”

It didn’t stop. “That is the Inviolable Paladin! I knew I recognised her from somewhere!”

“Help them!” “They will save us!” They are your saviours!” “Find more weapons!” “I can see her!” “Find more swords or daggers!” “Maybe axes!” “Anything!” “Kill it!” “Save us!”

Mila tried to ignore the unfolding chaos. She hated this. But just this time, it was helpful. Keeping her form tight and low, she continued to advance towards the horrendous enemy.

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A crashing, powerful, if slow attack tried to change Mila’s course. It took only two short jumps to step around it. She watched Zemny and noticed the fading intelligence. The attacks weren't as fast now, either.

But they were numerous. Mila discarded her current weapon and caught a new one. She glanced at Isabel and saw her girl tank another few hits.

The slowing speed of the enemy was advantageous to Mila. Her small size and quick reflexes made it easy to avoid them.

The same was not true for Isabel. Mila’s girl was unable to properly dodge. Mila almost turned around when a particularly nasty attack landed against Isabel’s shield, collapsing the rooftop under her love’s feet.

Mila didn’t - trusting her girl would be alright. She caught the additional sword Isabel had thrown before being pushed down and met Zemny’s dimming eyes. She gripped both handles in her arms, turning herself into a veritable windmill of attacks.

A faded memory of her chastising Andrew for his choice of using two sabres came back to Mila. She had advised against it, yet now she was doing just that.

It wasn’t great, all things considered. Mila felt the strain on her wrists and the many momentary losses of balance. Against a more keen enemy, this would be a terrible choice.

But the many splitting, growing branches had to be cut. Mila was now close. She heard the crowd exclaim, then cheer as Isabel crawled back on the roof.

Mila discarded both of the ruined swords and jumped to catch a replacement - this time an axe. It served better at freeing the path, but she knew she needed something with which she could stab to kill Zemny and prevent him from tearing the thousands of people surrounding them apart.

The constant stream of cheers worried Mila. In between the relentless attacks, she glanced around. The city was full of enemies. If the Inquisitor’s came… She worried.

Fighting here was too risky. It went against Mila’s rationality. But that was the point… She wouldn’t be able to change without doing it this way. And for some reason, her inner companion supported her decision.

Mila clicked her tongue. She felt the mana in Zemny’s body, not finding any signs of corruption - just twisted, rampaging streams of it.

That explained why Gods had not tried to smite the being. Maybe. Mila couldn’t guess what they were thinking. She looked up to the sky. It was still dark and cold, offering no divine intervention.

Perhaps they didn’t act because Zemny would die on Its own. The higher powers didn’t care for a few thousand people here or there.

Mila bent backwards and let a sudden thrusting spike pass above her. The crowd reacted a moment later, their gasps filling the air. She sprung to the side, spinning between the gnarly limbs. Her body was so light…

Perhaps it was another reason for Mila’s daring. She felt like she could do anything. She was confident in her victory if Mila had to fight the bald tongue clicker. Perhaps it wouldn’t be a fair victory, but she could hold back if necessary.

Another weapon was passed to her. Mila threw her now blunt axe at Zemny’s head, aiming at Its eyes. She doubted he was using those at this point, but the remaining instincts made Zemny react by pulling back a few of the split arms to defend.

It gave her more room. Mila cut her way towards Zemny, which turned out to be a bastard sword. She was surprised. Her muscles strained but didn’t fail. It was so strange to suddenly be able to use the lengthy weapon properly.

And the sword was good. Much better than the rest she had received. Mila heard the crow murmur with thankfulness as a stray Noble had turned up to support them. He had been the source of this magnificent weapon.

Mila glanced at where people were gathering around an old man in rags. She noticed an actual armour under the torn cloak. The aged man wasn’t a fighter and was simply supporting the people as he could.

The act earned a modicum of Mila’s respect. The man was likely one of the old generation from the time before the city fell into crime.

She admired the ease with which the sword cut. Suddenly, Mila’s advance wasn’t as laborious. The lengthy weapon allowed for far-reaching, sweeping attacks that opened large, gaping holes in Zemny’s defences.

Zemny tried to evelop her. His focus shifted from several targets - including Isabel to just Mila.

And it wasn’t enough. Mila heard another wave of shouts, and another weapon was thrown at her. This time, it was a black dagger. She held the immaculately made assassination tool, then hid it in her clothes. For this job, the bastard sword alone would do.

Mila kept up her assault. Zemny tried to stop her, to kill her. He screeched, cursed and lamented. His appendages whipped around, trying to tie her and stab her.

But Mila was too elusive. She always found a new path forward. Even when Zemny’s remaining mind started to collapse the building, she didn’t stop.

Always forward, never stopping, Mila’s deadly intent was pointed at Zemny. The closer she was, the easier it got. Her swift offensive proved too much for the enemy’s increasingly sluggish mind.

And then… Mila was upon the main body. There, she was forced to dance around it, avoiding countless little thrusts by what appeared to be bark-covered fingers.

While these attacks were annoying, Mila didn’t feel danger. She observed Zemny’s blank expression, trying to find what he was thinking.

The crowd continued to cheer, seeing Mila’s victory as assured. She spun around, cutting another bach of branches. “What are you planning?”

Mila didn’t expect the answer to come. Yet, Zemny’s face twisted into a ponderous expression.

“I regret…” His distorted voice was barely recognisable. “Nothing…” Zemny finished.

Seeing Zemny slow down even more, Mila chose to strike. Her sword shot forward towards the enemy’s face. The thrust was swift and deadly.

Mila impalied the monstrosity’s head, destroying what little of the brain the creature had. She waited for something to happen while the crowd roared. Her senses were telling her the creature was dying.

A moment later, the twisted being drew the last breath. Mila waited another second, wondering if she would receive any mana from what had once been a powerful mage.

There was something, but it slid off Mila’s being, finding the mana structure to be incompatible with what she had. Whatever the corruption was, it didn’t seem to work with her ability.

Mila sighed and tried to pull out the sword. The crowd called her nickname and Isabel’s nickname, and she… She couldn’t pull it out. Zemny had made sure it was stuck.

Then, Mila felt something brush against her senses. Her eyes shot up, finding a diving Oscar aiming for her form. She could see his vicious, merciless smile and lips that whispered just one word - ‘Die’.