Selvaria’s tail pounded against the wall, cracking pieces of stone with every strike as it weaved back and forth, excitement bubbling up in her chest as Ohan rubbed his slowly growing beard; he hadn’t shaved for a few days.

“I get to go Godzilla-mode?! Yay! Oh, what kind of roar should I do, Ohan—the deep one that shakes people’s bones or-or the really loud one? Should I look up at the sky—oh, shoot off a big blast that everyone can see? Be like, I’m back!”

A soft chuckle shook Ohan’s chest as he glared at the wall. “Wouldn’t you need to be here at some point to say that?”

Her cheeks colored a little. “Yeah, uh—but they can’t understand me! It’s kind of an inside joke!”

“Not one I’m in on.”

“Eh-heh … Oh, maybe I’ll shout, ‘Target sighted. Engaging!’ Ominous, huh? No, I got it! The hunt begins!”

“Didn’t you just say they couldn’t understand you?”

“I’m just excited! Rachel’s never said I could go crazy!”

“Uh-huh … Which has me thinking there was a lot more being said from her directions.”

Selvaria shifted to rest her spikes against the stone, her weight causing the points to sink into the rock and create a grating noise, but she wasn’t afraid to destroy it; she loved not having to worry about the little stuff like her spikes ripping into whatever she leaned against or how hard she swung her tail.

“Like? Hey, Maria, Scarlet!” She grinned, showing her monstrous teeth as the busty Unicorn appeared out of shadows with the vamp girl. “Oh, you’re still cool with cosplaying with Alexa when we get back?”

Scarlet forced a smile, showing her pointing fangs. “Hehe, I haven’t changed my mind—I don’t know about some of your choices, though … If all of you want me to go with these fangs, then I want to be one of the Hex Girls! Eh-he, we can all be Witch Girls; I liked them growing up.”

“Oooh! Spooky!” She struck a pose. “Heh, I like that; I was thinking I could be KOS-MOS, too; I can have blue hair and everything!”

“You and Xenosaga,” Scarlet snickered. “Maybe we can find one of those blacksmith Demi to make you a robot suit or big guns like her.”

Selvaria’s illuminated turquoise irises widened, practically drooling at the thought. “Yeah! Yeah, I asked Rachel about it yesterday, and—and she said we could look—oh, and maybe an anchor weapon with chains! I could steal one from a sunken ship to have it reforged! Wouldn’t that be a cool story?! I could have my ranged and melee weapon…”

“Woah, Chica,” Maria laughed. “We got some fools to smash; let’s talk about accessories and blowin’ up mountains after, eh?”

“Promise?”

“Aye, I ain’t promisin’ anything related to your anime talk—I got no clue.”

Scarlet nudged her side and winked. “She’s talking about a game, horse butt.”

“Yo, don’t—you can’t just say that, wink and teleport out … Gah, the horse jokes,” she grumbled, Selvaria giggling as the Unicorn’s tail flicked to the side and her ears twitched a little.

“I think you pull off the hot horse look, Maria! Hehe, maybe you’ll grow the other parts, too.”

“Don’t curse me! Aye, so we doin’ this or what?”

Happy to have girls to joke around with that didn’t judge her, Selvaria nodded; it was nice, not second-guessing herself with her friends and that they accepted her. Clasping her hands at the base of her tail, she turned to the Samurai. “I’m starting it off. Right?”

Ohan had that look on his face that said she was rushing things again. “Once we start, it’s going to get chaotic; there’s no way for Maria to free everyone, and what if this puppet master uses these normal people as suicide shields unless we stop—you can’t do that huge mass purification ball like before?”

Maria popped her tongue against the roof of her mouth and hissed. “Naa, Hombre; that was a one-use thing.”

“Which means Rachel knows it’s impossible to purify them all … Heh, basically, Selvaria…”

Her head tilted to the side, not following. “Hmm?”

“Remember when I said to hold back your Fear Aura?”

“Mhm … Oh … Oh, hehehehe,” a devilish grin split her lips. “Go wild, meaning really go wild?!”

“You haven’t kept up your Leviathan State for long outside of the ocean; how long can you hold it—you’ll need to do it for at least twenty minutes.”

Selvaria crossed her arms. “Eegh … Not gonna happen, buddy; three or five at most without being in a water source, and I’ve been trying to build that up!”

Stroking his chin again, Ohan sighed. “Rachel is good at seeing the full picture, but what I got from her message was that we need to take care of the little details … Selvaria, to keep your Fear Aura up and level it in a fight, can you pull the Hydra she talked about to the ocean and fight it there?”

Electricity ran through her bones, and flames lit in her eyes. “Kaiju battle—I get to have a kaiju battle?! Yes! My time to shine!”

A grin moved the man’s face as Maria lifted an eyebrow glancing between them, arms folded. “What better way to clear the way for us—these are normal people that are being controlled—throw out a super-wide Fear Aura from your Leviathan State, and they’ll be fleeing, no matter what the puppet master tries to do.”

The Unicorn hummed. “Will that really work? Here, let me make sure before we go terrifying the whole population—throw up a small one for me to check out.”

Selvaria quickly complied, activating Lesser Fear Aura I; she could go to the second stage outside her Leviathan State but figured she just wanted a smaller dose.

The only reaction she got from her friends was Maria’s narrow left eye. “Mmh … It is a Status Effect, which … yeah, should work … Huh, operates in five-second pulses, and seems linked to distance from the source for its strength,” she muttered, walking away a bit. “Sweet.”

“That’s a relief,” Ohan forced a laugh. “So, Selvaria, Maria, and I will go straight to rescue this Mara woman and take care of our Sorceress problem.”

“Let’s hope,” Maria grumbled. “That terrorista has nine lives, I swear—eh, how fast can ya run, by the way?”

“Not as fast as you, heh, I’ll tell you now.”

“Aight’, let’s go on the hunt; eh, Girl?!”

Selvaria chuckled as the Unicorn smirked and smacked her shoulder with the back of her hand. “Operation Fear Tactics, begin!”

Selvaria dove off the concrete walkway into the surf, lapping against the walls, tail propelling her away from the shore with a single beat.

Diving down a tad to make a swift loop, she shot for the sky, pulse quickening as a brilliance encompassed her figure until her spiked back erupted out of the sea, powerful clawed fingers digging into the sand to penetrate the ocean floor.

Waves surged over the pier and nearby docks as ship ropes snapped at the pressure; Selvaria’s long neck lifted out of the water, shifting the shades of her scales to be black and luminous turquoise.

Blade-like tail scraping against the earth and sending a rush of water to the opposite shore, Selvaria chuckled, releasing a bounding rumble that transferred from her body to the ground and water.

Waterfalls fell from her head and neck as she rose out of the sea to look into the sky and release her presence in all its glory; a resonance rippled through her body and into the ground as she chuckled, and upon rising to her full height, her jaws opened, liquid shooting out of her mouth as her voice cut through the wind, rain, and thunder for the lower frequencies to vibrate the earth people stood on.

Weight coming down on the wall, she saw crowds of fleeing people stumbling over one another and running out of buildings.

Taking a deep breath, a jet of water exploded from her maw to devastate a long path along the high stone barrier in an area Ohan and she’d already scouted beforehand, knowing no one lived in that area.

Selvaria laughed while dragging herself onto land, her claws ripping into the widest highway she could find as she peered through the night, raising her voice to the heavens with lightning flashing across the sky. “Where are you, ya big smelly Hydra? Hmm … Fufufu! I see you ducking behind buildings over there!”

Pushing herself up more, she stretched her neck up to see the eight-headed creature was actually pretty big, but it had shiny ropes around its heads while being pulled.

Sticky tongue sliding out of her mouth, just thinking about how she wanted to fry up this monster made her saliva thicken, but she quickly remembered this was a Mythickin like her. Aww … I can’t eat it! Still, battle of the monsters!

“Wait … Are you ignoring me?!”

Feeling a little indignant after all the work she’d done crawling up onto land, she breathed in and activated her new skill; shimmering lights condensed in Selvaria’s mouth—Frost-Lightning Breath I—electricity sparking across her illuminated spikes as her energy built to release a ray of hyper-pressurized air, mixed with electricity.

The beam passed through the top half of the building the beast hid behind, passing through it before temporarily stunning the beast in place, sparks dancing around his body, and the frost soon penetrated its resistances for the lightning to fracture into tiny shards.

Two heads down, she puffed up her chest and roared again. “C’mon!”

A shrill scream split the air as its six remaining heads whipped upright, snapping its restraints; they locked eyes, making Selvaria grin.

“Yeah, I did that! Come get some!” she shouted, smacking her chest and sending a jet of pressurized water at the beast, accidentally clipping a huge building, but the Hydra’s heads weaved around them to barrel through the buildings separating them, toxic fumes, ice, fire, and other elements sparking from their mouths.

That’s it, she snickered, backing toward the ocean; however, her Water Pool was unexpectedly now only sixty percent—she had to be above fifty to remain in this State. Oof … Can I not even last a minute after using my breath—shoot! I didn’t think about that!

She started to shrink, but the Hydra was still coming.

Much of her weight lost, Selvaria promptly turned and ran for the sea; the wind was practically a non-issue for her, yet she could feel the booms coming from the monster gaining on her.

“Yikes!” she gasped, a glob of acid the size of a small car landing in front of her; it was soon carried along the streams of water running down the road. Dancing around it, she continued to jog. She was pretty good with endurance; speed, not so much.

“Just hold up a bit!” she yelled, and passing the crushed wall she’d pulled herself over, Selvaria just managed to reach the water as its heads dove in after her tail.

Accelerating, she twirled around the searching heads while rebuilding her resource. “Haha!” she cheered, bubbles floating past her face while watching ice creep around her from the frost-head. “Jokes on you; I love ice!”

A pulse shook through her body, the Leviathan in her being rereleased; erupting out of the ocean, she smacked her head against theirs, thick ice cracking around her as she prepared to fight.

Reaching around its body as it recovered, Selvaria’s jaws snatched its flailing tail. Muscles straining, she pulled back and whipped the Hydra through the nearby buildings to tumble into the river bay, sending waves crashing in the already turbulent storm.

“Round two!”

* * *

Alan Piedrabuena leaned forward, left elbow resting on his knee as his knuckles pressed against his upper lip and nose; the board in front of him showed him a massive amount of data, depending on where he looked.

Fulgencio had given him full access to his game, which had so many uses that the man had squandered and didn’t seem to understand at all. Everyone was stupid and cowardly, which was why things were going badly.

Relica, Khariton, and Miora sat nearby; naturally, the Sorceress and her snobbish friend were drinking wine and chatting about some job she’d done for Miora that had brought the two together—Alan didn’t care.

Everything always fell on his head to get people to actually do what they should have done in the first place; everyone was incompetent.

If Relica had done as she was told and captured Rachel—who she had said was their biggest wildcard—then everything would be fine right now. Sure, the woman had information and had been more than a little helpful, yet she also had many faults.

“Hmm…”

He glared at the pieces moving across the board; Spiro, the Lernaean Hydra Miora had brought as her pet, was currently being made ready to assault the stadium, and Salvador was doing as he was told. Relica had done well to make him compliant.

The letter she passed to the play Warlord had been placed in the spot for Khariton Osipov, the Legend of Ricardo Marales Navarette, and nearly four-meter-tall Mythickin buffoon of a giant that couldn’t even say what type he was, to launch his grand scheme at having Rachel and Nemesis gut each other.

He sighed, glaring at the pieces Rachel had placed across the city; it was strange. A black man and monster girl had just been chatting by the river for some time; he’d been very concerned when two random people showed up out of nowhere, but they were there and gone in no time at all, and the military equipment around the city had confirmed they had exited Havana airspace.

A larger group was heading around Noah’s territory, and he suspected they were documenting his puppets, but it was useless; he had thousands under his little finger alone, dancing to his tune.

By using his puppets with Fulgencio’s board, he could grasp far more data than the stupid drunk ever could. He’d slowly worked his way into checkmating his opponents over the past three weeks, and the biggest thorn in his side had been Nemesis and Noah.

The two were far too strong individually for his pawns to handle, and while Noah could be swayed by hostages, it was made clear early on that was not the case for Nemesis.

So, he’d been working on getting the pair to fight, yet specific control detection types around Noah had to be dealt with, which had taken some time. Noah wasn’t brilliant, but at least he had the brain to surround himself with powers that could sniff out deception and manipulation.

A small smile lifted his lips while glaring at the tall bronze-skinned man’s piece; through careful positioning, he’d managed to snag every one of his detection-based ability users earlier this night, and if it hadn’t been for Rachel’s inopportune appearance, the game would look totally different at this point.

Still, some of his men had finished destroying one of Noah’s protected cities without word getting out and was now on their way back with his duped team. Using his puppets, he’d brought the idea of moving all of his people to the southeast, planting reports that Nemesis was preparing to have a wide-scale battle with him should he not come to the stadium.

Everything had gone according to plan without a hiccup, that was, until now.

He glanced at Fulgencio, snickering and creating more crayon pictures of the people he saw on the table; sometimes he wondered what went on in his mind, but the man drawing Rachel killing Relica certainly had him in a slightly better mood—anything that upset the seemingly unshakable sorceress was a win for him.

Reaching for the pen and pad, Alan wrote down his question and had one of Miora’s slaves carry it to the pair.

You’re sure Rachel can kill Nemesis?

Relica sighed, scribbling back a remark and shooting a glare at him.

Yes! Rachel must have killed FAR stronger in the last city. Once that’s over, she should be weak enough that you can send one of your puppet gang in … She’s proud; she won’t have people there to help her. Rachel can’t turn down a fight.

He didn’t understand why this Lunar Hare couldn’t turn down a challenge but considered it must have something to do with Nemesis being the same way; it could be a Beastkin thing for all he knew.

Still, he had his doubts about Ana’s death while in the presence of Nemesis; Relica’s tie to Salvador had paid off due to the string of curses and challengers they could send to him, thereby gauging their effectiveness, but the fact Nemesis met with Rachel and then left, and slowly, didn’t make sense.

Writing on the paper again, he sent it to the agitated woman as he interrupted their conversation again.

Why did Nemesis and Rachel not fight when they first met? Why did Mara leave for us to ambush her?

Relica looked at her friend, who grunted at the struggling Siren she’d recently captured, still releasing her vocal magic and trying to fight the Madagascar woman’s control. A pained grunt shot through Mara's throat as Miora snapped her fingers and pointed at the sheet.

To all of their mild surprise, she resisted; the lovely woman’s face was already red and slick with sweat from the torturous methods Miora employed to her slaves, yet she locked her trembling thighs together, refusing to rise as tears stained her cheeks.

Rising from her chair and adjusting her old-fashioned dress, Miora walked over and slapped the woman, forcing her to the ground. “You actually refuse me, you filthy fish?”

Heel pressing against the woman’s cheek, she applied a bit of pressure, making the other slaves either whimper or blush, their temperature increasing while more than likely wishing to be in Mara’s place.

“I—I am not—a filthy fish, you disgusting bit—”

Miora promptly kicked Mara in the gut, sending her tumbling four feet from her enhanced strength and making the woman cough and sputter on the ground, veins popping out across her body as the Legendkin’s powers worked on her.

“Answer my question.”

“Ugh … I … I was just—mmgm!”

“Hmm … Alan, does she have family here? Sometimes the first two hours can be … difficult, but I like to see them struggle—to see them hurt their loved ones.”

Alan hissed, knowing Rachel was still likely listening. “No—all of them died, so far as I know, which was why she went after all those that killed them.”

“A shame, but I can make you relive those tragic memories…”

The Siren’s eyes glazed, seeing something in her past. “No—please, don’t … don’t show me … No, Brais, don’t! Don’t leave—ack!”

“Too late, Dear … You must learn your lesson,” Miora cruelly smiled while kicking the woman against the wall. “Follow orders.”

Alan was even creeped out by this person, and Relica struggled with keeping her under control, but she did bring results.

After a few minutes of watching Rachel run through the city, returning to speak to the Legend and Noah’s man, the Siren broke down, snot, saliva, and blood running down her cracked lips; the woman bit them during the struggle, and her eyes were still glazed over with whatever Miora showed her, hands covering her ears in protest for whatever she heard.

“I … I just suggested we bring her to dinner—to talk…” she cried.

“There, was that so hard?” Miora whispered, bending down to force her up against the wall and hold her cheeks as she quivered. “You shouldn’t sully your pretty face … Such things can be important if I ever need to trade you or let someone use you for their pleasure. Carles, heal her lip and clean up the filthy fish’s face.”

“Y-Yes, Ma’am!”

Turning, Miora sniffed while glaring at him. “There you have it.”

Relica had been frowning the entire time but didn’t seem too satisfied by the answer. “Wasn’t she resisting a bit too much for just that … Hmm?”

Alan’s paranoid mind spun while watching his assassins take aim at the infuriating Legendkin that kept Nemesis alive throughout the weeks of unending battle. “True … See if she’ll elaborate.”

Mara quivered, focus coming back as Miora’s dark smile turned to her. “Well?”

“I … I just wanted to—to see if they’d get along … They seemed to—I thought maybe they could team up—move against the other Warlords f-from what he told me.”

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

Nodding with a bit more understanding, Alan rubbed his chin, a smile brightening it as the idiotic giant took the shot—it actually landed—Nemesis was too slow, and the infuriating Healing Phoneix, or whatever the people called her, was dead.

“I can see why she’d try to hide them trying to team up.”

“Humph. Well done, my filthy little fish,” Miora encouraged, making Mara wince again from another pulse the collar sent through her body. “See, you’re learning! Continue your song.”

Returning to her seat with satisfaction, the slaver renewed their conversation, yet Alan saw the thoughtful look in Relica’s face that he associated with her pondering something troubling.

Mara hugged her bare legs to her chest to hold them, hiccuping a little while a few more tears leaked from her eyes, likely recalling whatever Miora had tortured her with.

His attention was snatched by the thrilling event of Nemesis looking for Rachel, yet the Lunar Hare was doing something strange; it could have been just as Relica surmised, and she wanted to meet the lion in single combat, but the others’ movements made him question it.

Things were already in motion, and he was on the verge of pulling the trigger on all of his puppets; there was room for error and so many moving parts that it would take a miracle to stop it at this point, yet there was an unease in his belly upon looking up at Fulgencio’s drawings—it showed Nemesis in the same room as them.

The picture was odd—a fuzzy golden scribble—but it was when his eyes narrowed for a moment, crayon hovering over the paper, that made Alan suspicious. Could he be using us?

“Mmgm!” Fulgencio got up and stretched, patting his abdomen with a grin. “Hehehe, whoops—almost slipp’emed, Boss—eh, heh, I gotta head ta da little boys’ room! Yo, eh—if I get, mind a—a, eh, ‘nother ditter, Boss?”

“Ugh—go ahead, but the cheap stuff—you’ve gone through a lot of good stock recently.”

“Boss! I—I got bored—I’m a good guy, Boss! Please!”

“Fine…”

“Wooh! Party—Joe, ugh—” his face went green, and he vomited all over his drawings, spraying chunks like a hose.

“Really … Someone help him. Did he piss himself?! Gah, the board’s gone—slap him awake—don’t look at me like that!”

“He’s got crap all over him,” Khariton grumbled, getting up to order another guy outside to handle it.

“Relica!”

“Aye, aye,” she dully muttered, snapping her fingers for a charm on his body to illuminate and force his eyes open. “I’ll make sure he stays awake this time.”

“Wugh—I feel—Boss?”

“Stupid alcoholic,” Alan growled while sitting back and looking at the rematerializing board; Rachel had met Nemesis, yet as he watched and Fulgencio and Relica left the room, he noticed something strange.

Why aren't they jumping into a fight … Nemesis seems to be calming down by his current status marker … Are they joining forces?!

A minute passed where Alan sat on the edge of his seat, Miora glaring at the board with him. “Was something supposed to—”

Alan’s skin prickled as a colossal figure appeared to the left of the table—a sea monster—rising out of the ocean; it was one of the girls Rachel brought, and her people were quickly on the move.

His thoughts blanked as a pulse of terrifying energy rippled through his body, making him lock up—nearly every puppet in his control was hit by the Terrify III Aura—they were unusable.

Hair stiffening on the back of his neck, Alan’s throat went numb as Ohan and Maria ran toward their base of operations. The giant monster sent everyone in the district running in the opposite direction as she crawled onto land to reveal her massive girth.

Vasishtha to Noah—Maria and Scarlet to—no, Scarlet is joining Fiona, heading for Salvador’s area, and Rachel … Why are Nemesis and Rachel running for Noah?! If they all team up, it’s over—Rachel is on the attack…

“What is that?” Khariton gasped, staring at the board before running to the window to see a bright flash of light blind the night, a laser streaking across the sky to hit something in the city. “W-Why is there a colossal monster attacking the city?! It broke my walls!”

Activating every puppet he could, Alan yelled, “Miora, they’re coming—”

The board in front of him faded, Miora looking as confused as him; his heart stopped—the thousands of military officers he told to prepare his escape died—all of them. Falling back into his chair, Alan’s mind pushed past the fear of the rampaging creatures as the Hydra joined the chaos, Khariton running to his side and shaking his arm, telling them they needed to move.

How did … thousands of my soldiers die? Only Relica knew I’d taken over the Cuban military—are the tens of thousands of the military that followed my orders dead, as well … How?

A quiver ran through him as the building shook, and he heard a room down the hall explode, more dulled screams adding to his addled brain.

Miora calmly got up and moved to the window, and Alan followed her path, mind frantically looking for solutions, but more than a minute passed; Selvaria shrunk before taking their fight to the ocean, and all he could do was come to the same ridiculous conclusion. It’s impossible … It’s utterly impossible.

A low hum rumbled in the slaver’s throat as she went to the hall with her lapdogs following; Mara struggled, but Miora’s teleporter picked her up, which seemed to force her resistance to stop since she couldn’t hurt him.

Shakily getting to his feet, he choked, “Khariton—w-we need to get to the helicopter—the military—they’re all dead.”

His friend had been following the incredible struggle between monsters, utterly lost with what they should do next. “W-We don’t have air support—can we make it to Venezuela?”

“No—no, we need to get to the western military base! My controlled pilot is still alive—” Stumbling forward, he ran to the hallway; Alan froze, seeing one of the giant Hydra heads fly across the open corridor, Miora calmly standing at the end to observe it roll in the parking lot below.

His mouth went dry as Khariton muttered. “The stairs—where are the stairs? The hallway…”

Rachel planned all of this … How long—no, it had to be Relica, but why!?

Miora sighed, watching lights spark across the city to their west and the lumbering monsters, her hands held behind her back with her slaves surrounding the Legend.

Alan lurched forward; it should be safe around her since the woman’s enslaved people would defend her. “Miora! Miora, Relica betrayed us! She’s killed all of my military pawns! You need to get us to my helicopter!”

“Hmm … Interesting, I was unaware of a military trump card, Alan. Why would Relica betray me? We have known each other for quite some time, and it seems rather counterproductive, considering I know a great deal about her. It was she that brought me to this backwater place.”

Hovering near her man that could teleport, just in case he could snatch a ride out, Alan forced a laugh as the giant sea monster bit off one of the Hydra’s heads; the further they went out to sea, the more his control returned.

“I—I don’t know what Relica is thinking—m-maybe she’s controlled by Fulgencio! He must be pulling the strings—his ability is like a chessboard—maybe he’s smarter than he—huh…”

Smoothing turned around, Miora reached out, closing a collar around his throat before he could process what was happening, given the state of everything happening, and a small smile lifted her lips.

“It seems Relica is finished with this forsaken land—it’s a little vexing she left me in the dark, but she did promise me you would be mine, in the end, my little puppet.”

“No—n-no…” Alan stumbled away, feeling the collar digging into his skin, fusing with his muscle to send tethers to his brain. “Y-You can’t do this to me! K-Khariton … Khariton?”

Turning for support, he saw an invisible collar slowly taking shape around his best friend’s throat. “I’m sorry, Alan … I grew careless,” he muttered, eyes falling to the carpet.

Tears gathered in Alan’s eyes; he knew what would happen if he tried to attack her or had any ill intent, and Mara showed how far even incredible resolve could take you.

“Now,” Miora cooed, stepping in to cup his cheeks, “why don’t I have a little fun and test out my new—”

Alan’s lips parted, gut churning as a golden light shot into the corridor from above—a seven-foot-tall golden lion landed beside them—the terror that gripped his chest buckled Alan’s legs as the others began to grasp his presence. “Nemesis?”

Savage jaws opening, a roar shook the hallway, or it could have been his bones, as the lion’s clawed hand swiped at the teleporter’s head, but a scream from the woman he held created a barrier that countered the beast’s savage blow.

“Nemesis! Nemesis, save me!” Mara cried, attacking her ally while pleading for his help.

The teleporter vanished, appearing beside Miora with Mara still in his arms as the slaver smoothly placed a hand on the man’s shoulder; Nemesis blurred from Alan’s vision as a thick wall shot out from a string of light Khariton created to shield the three’s escape.

Shattering rock from the impact was all Alan heard, flying chips digging into his numb flesh as he shakily turned to see Nemesis’ illuminated, enraged figure, blood dripping off his talons; the three had escaped, but the lion appeared to have connected with someone.

“Ragah!”

The Lion’s fist flew back as Khariton sent a pillar of stone at him; they met, and it wasn’t the lion that broke. Dust filled Alan’s lungs with the corridor, blackening out the lights.

He felt a tug on his mind, prompting him to go below and save his master, yet he couldn’t move, even as he struggled; so instead, he sent all his puppets still under his control to support her. I can’t feel my body…

When his senses returned, he looked down to see a colossal fragment of Khariton’s pillar pinning him to the floor, blood running down the edges of the carpet to fall off the fractured building to the levels below. Is that … my blood? I can’t feel my legs … my legs … I don’t have my legs…

To his right was the bloodied mess of his best friend since childhood, a shard of stone stuck into his face while his body was half held in place by a section of the pillar he’d sent at the Lion King.

How did it turn out like this … I’m not a puppet; I’m smart … I did everything right … Everything … Everyone else messed up … So why am I dying … I’m dying … I don’t want to die…

“H-Help … Help … Someone … Help…”

He cried for a time, but no one came, and the torturous prompts of the collar only grew stronger; soon, not even that pricked his mind, and a rumble from the clashing titans brought the ceiling’s collapse to seal his tomb.

* * *

Maria stood beside Ohan, the storm at their backs; she was bundled up in a rain jacket, like the Samurai, but it was still tricky to navigate in the stormy weather. “Gah, how does Rachel do it?”

A chuckle came from the man, slick face glancing back as they felt the earth quake from Selvaria's movements. “I couldn’t tell you … I can’t go much faster than this, by the way.”

“Hmm…” She couldn’t have heard him if not for her enhanced hearing beyond the wind and falling rain, much less see without her sharpened vision; everything had become insane since The Oscillation. “How are we going to get past the wall?”

“What was that?”

“How are we going to get behind the wall?!”

“Ah, heh, don’t worry about that…”

Roars and growls came from Selvaria, her monstrous sounds vibrating through the storm to put pressure against Maria’s chest. Dang, Girl—ya really can’t judge a book by its cover … Got me feelin’ like we’re in a movie, and … Freakin’, Terrify Aura III?! Forget ordinary people; if she wasn’t on our side, we might be sent running…

They hadn’t made it far, Ohan only able to keep a maximum speed of fifty-six km/h, where Maria could accelerate far past that; albeit, her turning game wasn’t the best, but she’d been working at it. She was currently still in walking-mode as far as her body was concerned.

She screeched to a halt, forcing Ohan to follow her; fifteen meters in front of them, a jet of hyper-focused water shot out of the sky, pulverizing the thick wall they ran beside and carrying parts of buildings with it.

“The heck—she tryin’ ta kill us?! Wha—hey!”

“Haha! No, we planned this while you guys were doing your purify business,” Ohan returned, scooping her into a swift princess carry and darting to a nearby alley to jump up a few obstacles to the roof as the debris and water flooded the area. “Oh—sorry, Maria, but we don’t want to be carried back into the river.”

“Yo, just—give a girl some warning first—freak!” she grumbled, trying to use her arms to guard against the spray of rain as a gust blew it back in their bundled faces. “Ooh, hear that? It seems like she caught the attention of the Hydra.”

He set her down on the backside of the roof; it was angled, allowing a bit of reprieve from the cutting wind; her sight was focused on the streak of light that illuminated the monster girl’s colossal figure and that had shot into the city. “Eh—I wonder why…”

It didn’t take too long for the streams of water to start being pushed to the west with the strong wind, rather than rushing in all directions, and they jumped down, running to the opening. Selvaria had blasted it down to the dirt underneath some sections, causing small muddy craters where the pressure lingered the longest.

Maria only made it to the nearest street with Ohan inside the walled area when she saw the crowds of screaming and fleeing people—in alarm, she saw some of them didn’t even have clothes. “Ohan! We gotta stop.”

“What … Maria, our target won’t stay still forever.”

“I know, but look at those people—they’re naked, running through a hurricane!”

The weather may have been dying down throughout the night, but it was still dangerous, and she couldn’t leave people like that.

“Mmgm … Okay, can you quickly free the ones that could use our help—I count fifteen that aren’t—”

Maria wasn’t going to wait around. “You go scout things out; I’ll help the ones that need it and take them to a building south and catch up!”

Catching concerned eyes, Maria hissed impatiently. “Look, I know you’re thinkin’ about the things you heard from Rachel yesterday, but I’m seriously not the same girl that was helpless. Okay? Go! I’ll catch up!”

“Mmh … Okay, be safe, Maria, and if we’re going to save Mara, we need your power.”

“I got it! Go!”

Maria rushed to the children and naked women first, showing scrapes, gashes, and malnourishment from their weeks under the warlords’ occupation. Dang it! Why’d the world have to turn to… Mmgm, yeah…

* * *

Ohan didn’t like leaving Maria alone; she had her new boots, which helped her offensively, and added some mitigation effects for her at night, but it boiled his blood listening to everything she’d gone through only a few days ago because no one could protect her, having been caught up in other events—the woman had to rescue herself.

Maria had a strong personality and a soft heart when it came to people’s suffering, probably because of how she’d grown up; he hated seeing people struggle like that when he grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth. Of course, everyone always wanted him to play the victim or looked down on him because of his skin color, which was frustrating.

He wanted to help others that were really suffering, not cry about useless things that didn’t even matter in the end; people had real issues, and he could support them.

The situation was bad; he’d seen it on the bodies of those Maria went to, yet that was a losing game. Their real problem was the puppet masters; Selvaria’s Fear Aura only needed to be in effect as long as the people could be manipulated, which made taking them out their top priority.

He didn’t have time to argue the logic of the situation Rachel had foreseen, though; Maria would give the shirt off her back to those in need and couldn’t turn away from the people suffering in front of her, and he had to respect that of her. Ohan only hoped Rachel hadn’t expected him to be more firm in directing her to the root.

Catching sight of the two colossal monsters to his right, he frowned, noticing Selvaria shrink. Dang, Girl … You said you could last five minutes.

Ohan took a deep breath and closed his eyes, letting the flow of the spiritual forces around the city stimulate his inner senses as he ran; it took time to find the right visual waves, but he could still be on the move after his training in the Labyrinth and island.

Tens of thousands of frantic lives rushed past his mind in a stream of chaos as he tried to synchronize with the storm's rhythm; it wouldn’t give a complete picture of the people, which was part of the issue with the reactive skill that required a tempered mind, spirit, and body. His time with Rachel’s party had proven he still needed a lot of training.

The sounds of the wind, thunder, and rain became clear as time slowed, every droplet sending a pulse that reverberated against many spiritual phenomena to draw him a spotted map of the city.

Selvaria is okay … She’s cutting it close, though. So far, she’s been careful to not run over houses, and the gap of people around their battle is widening. She’s doing good … What’s … Something’s moving incredibly fast, cutting a line through the storm…

He pivoted, running to jump up a nearby truck and use it to make it to the rooftops; it slowed him a tad, but he now saw a streak of gold running along the buildings far ahead of him. Is that Nemesis? He’s heading straight for the building Mara was last seen in … I need to hurry.

Knowing the Lion would reach the site before him, Ohan leaped off the building and redoubled his efforts. When he arrived at a large parking lot, he slowed; dozens of figures were present in the storm, several messy corpses left on the ground as what appeared to be a bright green force field surrounded Nemesis.

Great … She has an army of ability users, but it looks like they’re at a stalemate.

Ohan calmed the blood thumping through his veins, preparing himself to die; he very well might in this situation. Sucking in air, he released it in a slow stream and stepped forward, summoning his weapon at his side.

Heart stilling, with every step, the storm faded from his mind, a battle instinct impressing on his relaxing muscles. Sword slowly exiting its sheath, Ohan fixated on his targets, erasing his presence by melding with the fury of the storm; their attention was centered on the raging Lion as he pounded against the shell, and by the shaking arms of the woman holding her hands against the barrier, she was having a difficult time maintaining the defense.

A red aura coated his blade as he instinctually noted his targets; by the scouted information given to them, Mara was a green-haired Siren Mythickin of sorts, which was standing beside the legendary tyrant who had control over these Demi.

He took time in his slow advance to gauge his opponents and the current state of the battle; Nemesis’ distraction only afforded him one opportunity for a surprise attack.

Focus centered on the group, Ohan listened, stopping at the edge of the lot; Ohan’s figure shrouded in shadow—Spider’s Dance II - Intermediate—the storm filtering out as the dark-skinned slaver studied her trapped target, dress drenched with the falling rain.

“You are among the finest specimens I have come across … Every one of my servants is quite skilled, yet you’ve managed to kill quite a few in an instant … You will make a wonderful addition to my collection.”

Her head tilted to a man writhing on the ground beside her, throat ripped out, and a bit of annoyance touched her voice. “However, you will need punishment for killing my precious teleporter … You cannot imagine their rarity or the challenge it is to collar them. I do have a spare back home, though.”

Silence ensued as the Lion gave soundless roars from inside the shimmering prison for a minute to pass; Ohan was patient, making a note of every position and form he would need to perform—he seldom got to use this style outside of the few personal quests he’d done the previous day.

“Ma’am?” the woman holding the shell shakily questioned; she was Arabic by her accent. “I can’t—I can’t hold him for much longer…”

“Are you saying you’ll fail me, Aini?”

“N-No! Ma’am…” she cried, body beginning to quiver as she redoubled her efforts.

“Good … Reda is almost here, and he will handle pinning my next prize.” She turned to the trembling green-haired Siren beside her, generating a protective field around the two of them with her voice. “Such a pretty voice when frightened, Mara … You may become one of my favorites. I look forward to the many performances you’ll gift to me.”

“I … would rather die.”

“Mh-hehe, my dirty little fish, you say that while begging for your lion protector to save your filthy life … Your voice and fortunate looks are the only things of worth you have to offer. Mara, you should be happy I am putting your few talents to proper use.”

“S-Screw … mmgm!”

Ohan took one step forward, blade glazing past muscle and tendon as flashes of his afterimage blinked between his maximum of four targets, crippling three by severing their ability to use their limbs, and the back of his sword struck Aini’s lower neck, just under the collar, creating a sharp crack from her fractured spine, paralyzing her.

Gasps of surprise or shock came from the group as he appeared out of nowhere, Aini’s mouth loosening while falling to the pavement, her barrier broken.

“Hmm?”

A wave of danger made Ohan jump back, spinning to cut the air as Mara spoke. “Please, run! I—I can’t control who I attack!”

“Mara!” Nemesis roared instantly, taking the disorder to leap forward and grabbing two confused men by the throat to act as shields as he rushed for her. “I will save—”

Landing after cutting through the rhythmic blast Mara had generated, Ohan’s attention snapped to a tear in space that opened up behind Miora—Relica stepped out, a small smile on her lips as a large man in a fitted trench coat with slicked-back black hair exited with a dull expression and a beautiful black-furred fox woman with a long, single shimmering tail.

The shapely Chinese woman had characters painted on her ceremonial clothing, and the large man had tattoos of occult symbols burned into most of his visible skin; both put off a threatening vibe that rivaled the sorceress, and the skull on the woman’s forehead left an impression on Ohan’s mind.

“Miora, you seem to be having trouble.”

Ohan halted immediately, jaw tightening as the Sorceress’ eyes flashed a deep purple; all sound died, a nova of energy erupting from the woman that vaporized the men Nemesis held while throwing him back. Black energy coating his blade, Ohan slashed upward; the flow of the force was unlike anything he’d felt before, cold and corrosive, yet he managed to create a small opening.

Miora turned, a smug smile on her lips. “Relica, must you destroy my toys?”

Retreat is the only option; we…

All thoughts blanked in Ohan’s mind as the fox woman stepped forward and plunged her clawed hand into Miora’s chest, making the woman’s muscles lock.

“W-What is—Lifen … Relica?”

A blue spiritual wave swirled around the pair, forcing Mara back as a cruel smile lifted her glowing sapphire eyes; the Legend’s shaky hands closed around the fox woman’s arm, trying to pull it out, yet Ohan didn’t see any blood.

What’s happening?

“Darling,” Relica sighed, a somber smile moving her lips. “My old friend, you see, as I feared, I needed a powerful Legendkin’s spirit—I really tried to find another way, but … unfortunately, time is up, and well … You do meet all the requirements. Sorry.”

“How … could you…” Miora muttered, all of her slaves seeming to be just as paralyzed as their slaver, Chinese characters illuminating on their foreheads.

Relica shook her head. “No, it’s nothing personal, Miora—I liked you a lot—circumstances just weren’t in your favor, and I couldn’t protect you for such a simple reason as friendship! Lifen?”

The fox woman’s Chinese accent was evident as her lips curled, showing fanged teeth. “It will do nicely.”

A deep grunt came from the man as he snapped his fingers, causing the pyramid on his forehead to brighten and a yellow field to separate them from any interference; his accent was British. “Could ya hurry it up, Lass—I’m hungry, and we’re on a clock.”

Miora’s eyes were starting to dim as all of her slaves fell to the ground, Nemesis rushing in to grab Mara and leap away.

“Be patient, Aleister,” Lifen sniffed, “she’s fighting my influence, slowing the process.”

He huffed. “How hard is it for a Húli Jīng to do the one thing you’re good at?”

“Relica, could you tell the ugly old man to watch his words if he doesn’t wish to be next…”

“Heh, good luck with that, Love, but I’d be interested to see you try.”

Nemesis landed beside Ohan, a low growl in his throat. “Where is your woman that can remove this thing from her neck?”

“She’s coming.”

“Gmgmm … They betrayed their own?”

“It seems that way.”

Relica turned her gaze to them as the spiritual force surrounding Lifen strengthened, Miora’s eyes rolling back, skin paling, and breath becoming ragged. “Oh, I almost forgot about the lot of you—hehehe, I am sorry to ruin your fun, but on the off-chance, you actually did kill Miora, eh-heh, I couldn’t let that happen.”

“What are you planning, Relica?” Ohan asked, not expecting an answer but throwing it out there just in case.

“Mmh … Well, that’s complicated, and to be honest, I don’t fully understand it,” she laughed. “So, count your many blessings, Ohan, and congratulations on getting your girl back—isn’t it a win for everyone! Well, except for my old friend,” she sighed, grimacing at the woman as Lifen extracted her hand to show a swirling nexus of fathomless spiritual depth in her palms.

“Done.”

“Finally,” Aleister mumbled, pulling back his sleeve and running his fingers down a set of occult symbols to generate another fissure in space. “What I wouldn’t give for some fast food…”

Unsure what to do next, Ohan watched them go, and the protective barrier Aleister created faded with their exit. Did Rachel see this coming … No, our priority was to recover Mara, and that’s done.

Maria caught up, missing the event by nearly a minute, and to Nemesis’ sigh of relief, the Unicorn was able to purify and heal the Siren of the compelling force; she then moved to the dozens of comatose enslaved Demi, unresponsive after whatever Lifen had done to the Slaver.

Tears came to Mara’s eyes as she buried herself into Nemesis’ dry, fluffy mane, protected from the water by the radiance surrounding him. “Y-You came for me…” she choked, unable to speak while her body quivered, and the Lion’s comforting arms held her.

“Hey … Hey, of course I did…”

Maria choked up a bit while moving between the others to revive them, the freed slaves breaking down into tears and thanking her as they huddled together in the raging storm.

It seemed to be some kind of spiritual separation magic that the Húli Jīng had employed, using the slaver’s spiritual connection to her slaves as a medium to spread it and neutralize the possible threat the Legend posed.

Ohan couldn’t believe it; Miora, the Legend of Queen Ranavalona the First, was more than likely dead and by the hands of someone she’d called a friend.

What is Relica’s game? This wasn’t a new plan; she baited Miora here for a purpose, no matter what excuses she made, and who were those people with her? I’m sure Rachel is on the move to intercept her, wherever she is.

Not having any answers to go on, Ohan saw Cahira’s Dragon Turtle descending upon the city with the helicopters and Special Demi Units Tom had been making. I suppose the next best option will be to see how we can help the rescue and support effort.

* * *

Relica puffed out a long breath, walking through the rift to the emptied military hanger they’d chosen for the ritual; it was a little disheartening to stab a friend in the back, but all was for the cause.

Aleister pulled back his sleeve to check his watch, lips creasing. “I suppose I should snatch our final component; it feels weird leaving her unguarded.”

“It’s what she wanted,” Lifen snickered, walking to the center of the room as he generated another crack in space to retrieve their patron.

Not feeling like talking to the two, Relica found her elbow behind her back, gazing around the meticulous work Aleister and she had gone through over the past two weeks; her time studying Hades’ ritualistic principles was a stepping stone for this since the design that had been given to her to craft was far beyond her reach at the time.

The entire area was dyed red, occult symbols totally foreign to her spacing the area as Lifen carefully placed Miora’s essence and Seed into the Soulstone Wolfgang had crafted for her—eighty thousand spirits cycling within—she hoped all her efforts would be rewarded.

“Do you think she’ll come?”

Lifen gazed around the space, lips tightening. “Everything we’ve been promised is a step away … I don’t see what good will come from questioning it, Relica. It was you that convinced me to join this little project, so it isn’t comforting hearing that from you.”

“Mmh … I suppose not. Perhaps I am just a little off after what I just did.”

“Heh, imagine, you showing emotion.”

“Imagine, indeed…” Relica repeated, face softening. “Let’s prepare the incantation for when Aleister returns with the final ingredient—hopefully, everything went according to plan, but knowing Scarlet and Rachel … it is unlikely. Still, a mother and daughter reunion—I wish I could be there to see it.”