Luna's wide, terrified eyes darted around the small home as the walls crackled and popped. Everything was burning. The oppressive heat pressed against her skin, sweat pouring down her face, mingling with the tears she didn't even notice she was shedding. The once-familiar warmth of their house had turned into an inferno of chaos and terror. She crouched near the corner of the room, trembling, clutching at her knees as the flames encroached closer.
"Krrk! BOOM!"
A heavy beam splintered and collapsed with a deafening roar, spraying embers into the air. From the gap it left, a flame spirit surged into the room. Its flickering, half-formed body of fire and molten rock twisted and shimmered in the suffocating air, its formless face turning toward them with malevolent intent.
"Luna, stay back!" Caela's voice rang sharp and commanding, cutting through Luna's paralyzing fear.
Her mother leapt into action, moving with a speed and precision Luna had never seen before. In her hand was a bone dagger, its edge coated in numen, glowing faintly against the firelight. Caela dodged the flame spirit's first strike, its blazing arm slamming into the ground where she had stood a second earlier. She twisted mid-air, her dagger slicing downward in a fluid arc that sent a shockwave through the creature's body, dispersing part of its flames into a shower of sparks.
The spirit retaliated, sending a gout of searing fire toward her. Caela's body twisted in ways Luna didn't think possible, flipping over the flames as they roared beneath her. The dagger gleamed in her hand, slashing forward with a burst of numen that carved into the spirit's chest. But the spirit recovered quickly, its fiery form surging forward like a vengeful wave.
Caela landed, but her body faltered for a moment as her hand clutched at the black veins snaking across her chest. Pain twisted her features, and the spirit took the opening. Its blazing arm struck her side, sending her skidding across the floor with a grunt of pain. Still, she held her ground, rolling onto her knees and lunging forward. With a desperate cry, she drove the bone dagger into the spirit's molten core. The spirit screeched, its body twisting violently before it collapsed into a pile of smoldering ash.
"Mommy!" Luna screamed, rushing forward. Her tiny arms scooped her mother up, shaking as she cradled her. Tears streamed down her face, hot against her already burning cheeks. The air was thick with smoke, and every breath seared her lungs. Her silver hair curled and frayed at the edges from the heat, and the firelight reflected in her wide, panicked black eyes.
Caela weakly wiped the tears from Luna's face, forcing a smile despite the pain etched across her features. "I know," she whispered, her voice soft but firm. "I won't fail you. Let's go outside. Don't worry, your mother will be with you."
Luna sniffled, nodding, her grip on her mother tightening. She had been hiding in her room for days, paralyzed by fear and memories she couldn't bear to face. But now, with her mother by her side, she felt a small flicker of hope. If her mother was with her, everything would be fine.
A voice broke through the chaos, cold and mocking. "Hmm, maybe I didn't need to come after all."
Luna froze, her heart seizing in her chest. That voice—it was a nightmare made flesh. She turned slowly, her body trembling uncontrollably as her eyes locked onto the figure standing in the doorway.
There he was, Hathor. The man who had haunted her nightmares for six long years. He stood tall and gaunt, his shadow flickering and dancing against the raging flames. His milky white eye bulged grotesquely, unfocused yet somehow piercing. The firelight illuminated his crooked grin, twisted with sickening joy as he regarded them. He looked like a specter born from the very flames that consumed their home, a reprobate shadow reveling in the chaos.
Luna's throat tightened, her scream caught somewhere between her soul and her lips. She couldn't move. Her body refused to respond, shutting down entirely in the presence of the man who embodied all her fears.
"I had thought, considering your mental… condition," Hathor began, his voice oozing with mockery, "you would sit here and burn with your impotent mother. It seems I underestimated you, Caela. Well, no matter." He stepped forward, the flames parting before him as if bowing to his will. "I'll just let her burn here for the masses and claim you died as well. Then I'll whisk you off to my home. A pleasant opportunity, wouldn't you agree?"
"Hathor, are you insane?!" Caela spat, forcing herself onto her feet despite the blood trickling down her side. Her voice was filled with a mixture of anger and desperation. "You swore you'd never touch me again!"
Hathor's grotesque grin widened, his voice dripping with venomous amusement. "When did I swear such a thing? Is your daughter yourself?" He tilted his head mockingly, his milky eye glinting with perverse delight.
Caela clutched her dagger tightly, her entire body trembling from both pain and rage. Her numen flared faintly around her, a desperate light against the encroaching darkness.
Her mother froze a the words, her trembling eyes snapping to Luna's prone form. A deep shame clouded Luna's mind as she caught the sorrow in her mother's gaze. That sorrow, so gentle and laden with regret, pierced through the overwhelming terror gripping her heart. But even as her mother's lips parted as if to speak, no words came—only a soft pulse of numen radiated from her, sweeping outward in a quiet but deliberate motion. Luna knew what it meant. Her mother always used this technique when she wanted to see clearly, as she was born technically blind.
When the numen revealed what her mother sought, a shadow fell over her face. The sorrow deepened, curling into something darker. Her mother's lips trembled before her words came, edged with bitterness and pain.
"So, it's you, then," Caela murmured, her voice heavy and raw. "You're the reason. I should have known. I just didn't think…" Her voice cracked, and for a moment, it seemed like she wouldn't finish. Then, with a simmering rage, she spat, "I didn't think you were that disgusting. That low."
Her mother gripped the bone dagger tighter, her knuckles whitening as she took a step forward. Hathor didn't flinch. He only laughed—a deep, guttural sound that seemed to echo in the burning room.
"What are you going to do, Caela?" Hathor sneered, his milky eye glinting grotesquely in the light of the flames. "Are you going to fight me? You think you can kill me?"
Her mother's lips curled into a grim smile, her body tense and ready. "I tore out your eye once. You think I can't hurt you again?"
Hathor's grin widened, cruel and dismissive. "That was then. And that was because I wasn't trying to kill you, woman. You were useful to me once. But now?" He tilted his head mockingly, the flames flickering in his crimson eye. "I don't need you anymore. You're just a broken tool. Simple as that."
Her mother didn't dignify his words with a response. She moved, lunging forward with deadly intent, her dagger coated in numen aimed at his throat. The air whistled with the ferocity of her attack. For a moment, Luna dared to hope. But Hathor's spear swung upward in a smooth arc, intercepting her blow with effortless precision. The impact sent her mother flying across the room, her body crashing through a wall with a deafening crack.
Blood spattered from Caela's lips as her body crumpled to the floor, bent unnaturally. Her weak constitution and injuries betrayed her. Luna's scream ripped from her throat, a sound born of pure rage and terror. She would fight.
"AHHHHH!"
She sprinted toward him, her fists trembling, her vision blurred by tears. Hathor didn't even bother turning to face her until she was within reach. With an almost lazy motion, he swung the butt of his spear into her cheek. The world exploded in pain. Luna felt her cheekbone shatter, a sickening crunch reverberating through her skull as she was sent flying into the opposite wall. Her body hit the wooden surface with a thud, crumpling to the floor in a daze.
The heat closed in, flames licking at her skin. Before she could even scream, a burning beam from the collapsing ceiling fell onto her. She felt the molten wood sear into the left side of her face, the unbearable heat melting her flesh as she flailed helplessly. She tried to summon numen, to protect herself, but her body was too broken, her mind too clouded with pain.
"Aughhh!" The sound tore from her throat as tears streamed down her unmarred cheek.
Hathor's voice cut through the agony like a cruel knife. "Ah, you're truly useless," he muttered, his tone tinged with irritation. "Can't even protect yourself with numen from something so simple? Well, whatever. Damaged or not, I'll take you regardless."
His gaunt hand reached through the flames, seizing her arm with an iron grip. Luna's screams intensified as he dragged her from the wreckage of her home, her small frame writhing and kicking. Her voice broke as she screamed for her mother, the name a desperate plea that echoed in the inferno.
"Mommy! Mommy, please!"
Her hand reached toward the flames, but there was no answer. Only pain, only despair. The air was thick with smoke and heat, the sound of crackling fire and splintering wood filling her ears as she was pulled further away.
The house burnt brightly behind her in a deafening roar of flame and ash, sealing away her hope. She felt the rough ground scrape against her skin as Hathor dragged her, his grip unrelenting. Tears blurred her vision as her sobs choked her throat.
It was over. No one could save her. It was done.
And then there was a flash.
Gold. Silver. Amethyst.
A figure descended like a blazing star, its radiance cutting through the inferno. And for one fleeting moment, as Luna's vision swam with pain and tears, she thought she had seen the sun.
_________________
Tanya shot forward, her body a blur of motion as she propelled herself on all fours, her claws digging into the charred earth for leverage. Her wings unfurled and flapped powerfully, lifting her into a low, predatory flight as she aimed directly for Hathor's skull. Her claws gleamed, ready to cleave through his neck in one swift motion.
Hathor's milky eye widened in shock, but his reflexes were razor-sharp. He hurled Luna aside like a discarded rag and brought his spear up just in time. The clash rang out sharply as the butt of his spear deflected Tanya's strike, her claws skittering off the weapon's reinforced shaft. She twisted midair with animalistic grace, landing on her feet in a crouch, her wings spread wide for balance.
"You must be the sister of that thing," Hathor spat, a sinister grin spreading across his face. "No matter. In the end, neither of you needs to exist. I wonder…" His pale scarred eye gleamed with malice as he leveled his spear at her. "How will he react to seeing the charred corpse of his beloved sibling?"
Tanya didn't respond with words, only narrowing her amethyst eyes. The tip of Hathor's spear began to glow ominously, and she instinctively ducked. A beam of searing light and heat tore through the air where her head had been a fraction of a second earlier, She felt the heat buffer the edges of her golden hair. Hathor pivoted smoothly, the spear following her movements as it emitted a barrage of beams, each one scorching through the chaos around them.
Tanya twisted and weaved through the onslaught, her wings hardening instinctively to deflect the beams when dodging wasn't an option. Sparks and flashes of light danced around her as the beams struck her reinforced feathers, ricocheting harmlessly into the charred ground. She rolled under one shot, flipping to avoid another, and stomped hard into the earth. The force of her stomp sent up a cloud of dust and clods of dirt, obscuring her position.
The beams began firing blindly into the haze, scorching jagged lines into the ground as Hathor laughed, his voice dripping with condescension. "Running already, little beast? You're no different than your brother. All ferocity, no power."
Tanya's eyes flicked to a nearby boulder, half her size, and without hesitation, she grabbed it. Her muscles tensed as she hurled the massive stone toward Hathor, its trajectory cutting cleanly through the swirling dust cloud.
"There you are!" Hathor roared triumphantly, thrusting his spear forward. The weapon pierced the stone, shattering it into a rain of jagged shards. But Tanya was already in motion, darting through the chaos to his left side.
She closed in silently, her wings like silver-grey blades slicing through the air. As he focused on the fragments of the stone, her wings struck his ankles. The blow cut into his numen-coated skin, not deep enough to disable but enough to draw a shout of pain from his lips.
"You little—!" Hathor snarled, spinning his spear downward. Tanya anticipated the strike, flipping backward in a blur of motion. Her legs snapped up mid-spin, wrapping around his extended arm like a vice. Her claws gleamed as they slashed toward his face, her barbed tongue darting between her teeth with feral intensity.
But her assault met resistance. A translucent barrier flared to life around Hathor, the shimmering wall holding her back momentarily. Tanya's wings surged forward, hammering into the barrier with relentless force. Cracks spiderwebbed through it before shattering completely, the force sending a sharp shockwave outward.
Hathor waved his free arm, and a burst of flame numen lashed out at her. The fiery energy slammed into her torso, sending her flying backward. She twisted midair, landing on all fours, smoke rising from the patches he had burned on her skin. It was hot but it wasn't really an injury. He had yet to harm her in any real capacity. Though he could. She could sense it from what he had done just then. In the end he was in the second layer after all.
Hathor touched his cheek where her claws had managed to leave a faint line, and his crimson eyes burned with fury. "You insolent little beast!" His voice trembled with rage. "You think a shallow scratch is enough to save you?"
He spun his spear in a wide arc, the motion carving glowing trails into the air. Above him, seven radiant disks began to form, spinning in place. Each disk blazed with a fiery intensity, their colors matching the hues of the suns in the heavens above during the day. Their edges crackled with lethal energy, spinning faster and faster until they blurred.
Tanya felt her hearts thrum with both anticipation and dread as the disks hummed with overwhelming power. The heat they emitted scorched the ground beneath them, turning patches of soil into molten glass.
Hathor sneered, raising his spear toward her. "Solgaleo Sutra: Disks of the Seven Suns!" His voice boomed over the roar of the flames. "Be shredded into nothing, you false divinity!"
Tanya sneered, her sharpened fangs catching the flickering orange light of the surrounding flames. The elder's words grated against her instincts, sparking a fury that boiled beneath her skin. She had never claimed to be divine—it was these people who had painted her as such. If they wished to see her as a deity, she'd exploit it, but she would never claim to be something she wasn't. Her wings flared behind her, their silver-grey edges gleaming like forged steel as her claws flexed, ready for the onslaught.
The glowing discs above Hathor spun faster, their colors shifting in mesmerizing patterns. Without warning, the green one darted toward her, cutting through the air like a slicing blade. Tanya dove low, the disc screaming past her head. Before she could regain her stance, a red disc followed, its heat searing the air. She flipped backward, narrowly avoiding it, but her momentary relief was short-lived as the yellow disc surged toward her.
Her wings shot up, hardening instinctively, and deflected the yellow disc with a deafening clang. The force of the impact, however, was beyond her expectations. Still mid-flip, her feet hadn't yet touched the ground, and the blow sent her spiraling through the air. Dust and ash swirled around her as she skidded across the charred earth, her body grinding to a halt with a cloud of debris.
Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself up, but her vision blurred momentarily as a speck of dust got into her eye not irritating it but clouding her vision. A sharp whine cut through the air—a purple disc screaming toward her. Tanya's instincts roared, but it was too late. The blade-like construct slammed into her chest, spinning viciously as she felt her flesh tear for the first time since encountering the Snavine. Pain lanced through her body, white-hot and unrelenting. The disc dispersed after carving a deep, seared wound across her chest, leaving her breathless as she clutched at the injury and fell to her knees.
"How absurd," Hathor muttered, his voice tinged with both incredulity and disdain. He twirled his spear lazily, as if assessing her. "All of that power for a simple flesh wound, and your ability to persist despite that wound as well. I saw this with your sibling—your durability is obscene. A ninth-shackle cultivator of the first layer would have been cleaved in two by that strike, even with numen reinforcement."
Tanya growled low in her throat, her amethyst eyes burning with defiance. She wasn't done—not even close. From the corner of her vision, she caught a green flash. She leapt into the air, her wings propelling her upward with powerful beats, but the disc clipped her leg mid-flight. Pain exploded as another wound tore through her flesh, the edges of the gash glowing faintly from the residual heat. She flinched as the pain throbbed, her momentum faltering slightly.
An orange disc shot upward, targeting her midair. Tanya's wings hardened again, this time with more force behind them, and she slashed out at the projectile. The disc deflected sharply, ricocheting back toward Hathor with an angry hum. The elder's eyes widened as he hastily swatted it away with his spear, the clash of energy ringing out across the battlefield.
That was her moment. With a flap of her wings, Tanya shot forward, her body a silver streak against the inferno. Hathor snarled, his hand snapping upward as the remaining five discs converged on her. The first two screamed toward her flanks, but her hardened wings deflected them, sparks flying with each impact. The other three came head-on, spinning wildly with deadly precision.
Tanya's fists lashed out like twin ballistae. Her first punch shattered one disc, the energy burning into her knuckles and forearm as she pushed through the searing pain. She didn't stop. Her second strike crushed another, leaving a smoldering wound along her palm. The third disc came faster than she expected, grazing her arm as her third punch shattered it into flickering motes of light. Her arms burned, her flesh torn and bleeding, but her momentum carried her forward, unstoppable.
Hathor's sneer faltered as Tanya's leg swung in a devastating arc. Her kick connected with his side, the impact sending a sickening crack through the air as one of his ribs gave way beneath her strength.
"KKHHPPFF!" Hathor spat, blood spraying from his mouth as he flew sideways. His body crashed into the ground with a thud, gouging a trench in the charred earth as debris rained down around him.
However, Tanya wouldn't allow him a moment of reprieve. Her wings snapped open, propelling her forward in a burst of silver and grey. Before Hathor could steady himself, she spun her entire body into a vicious roundhouse kick. The blow landed squarely against his spine, the force bending him mid-air like a drawn bow. The crack of impact echoed across the field, drowning out the roaring flames consuming the village.
She didn't stop. Her wings flapped powerfully, accelerating her above him as his body reached the apex of its ascent. Her hands clenched together, knuckles whitening, as she brought them down in a devastating hammer blow aimed at his stomach.
"ENOUGH!" Hathor roared, his voice shaking the air like a thunderclap.
With a burst of desperate power, he conjured a massive gout of solar flame. The firestorm surged upward, its blinding light illuminating the night like a false dawn. Tanya's instincts screamed at her to evade, but her momentum was too great. The inferno washed over her, searing her flesh. The heat clawed at her cheeks, her skin blistering and peeling. Pain exploded in her eyes as the fire burned into her sockets, sending violent shocks through her entire body. For a terrifying moment, her consciousness wavered, the world dimming at the edges.
But Tanya wasn't done. She fought through the agony, forcing her body to press forward. Her hammer blow connected, slamming into Hathor's stomach with the force of a boulder dropped from the heavens. The elder was sent plummeting toward the earth, his descent a fiery streak across the sky. The ground trembled as he crashed into it, sending debris and fire scattering in all directions.
Tanya, however, wasn't spared. The recoil of her strike and the lingering flames sent her hurtling down as well. She crashed into the earth not far from Hathor, skidding across the scorched ground and tumbling through ruined crops. She clutched at her face, her claws trembling as her seared flesh screamed in protest. Her chest rose and fell in ragged gasps, her vision nothing but darkness. The burns had blinded her, and the damage threatened to pull her under.
For a few agonizing moments, she lay still, her body trembling. Her regeneration fought valiantly, the wounds on her chest fading rapidly, but the burns across her body took longer. Her eyes, smaller and faster to heal, began to restore themselves first. As the darkness receded and blurred shapes became clearer, Tanya's breath hitched. She struggled to push herself upright, nausea roiling in her gut from the lingering heat and smoke.
She didn't get far before a blazing fireball, no—a miniature sun—hurtled toward her. The confluence of numen burned hotter than anything she had faced, mimicking the terrifying energy of fusion. It was nowhere near the true force of a star, but it was enough. Tanya's wings snapped shut around her body, hardening to shield her as best as they could. The firestorm slammed into her, heat pouring through the gaps and blistering her exposed skin.
She was sent flying, her body tumbling through the air like a broken doll. The force hurled her over a hundred meters, her form tearing through the earth and decimating the rural fields. Crops were uprooted, and the soil smoldered as she finally came to a halt, her body crumpled and smoking.
Tanya groaned, her head tilting to the side. Her amethyst eyes narrowed in fury as she caught sight of Hathor through the haze. The elder was standing, his form hunched and sagging. Blood dripped from his mouth, and his once-pristine robes were torn and singed. He leaned heavily on his spear, clearly struggling to stay upright, but his exhaustion didn't diminish the hatred burning in his gaze.
"What an absurd body," Hathor spat, his voice thick with anger and disbelief. He straightened slightly, pointing his spear toward her. Energy gathered at its tip, the air crackling as he prepared to unleash another devastating attack. "You should be dead several times over by now. Just what the hell are you made of? And those wings of yours…"
Tanya smirked faintly, despite the pain wracking her body. Her arms trembled as she forced herself upright, blood dripping from her fingertips onto the scorched ground. Most of her skin was blistered and raw, her wounds reopening with every movement, but her body was stirring. She could feel it—the strange sensation she'd come to know during her time in the flux. It was a shifting sensation. Her body was healing itself while adapting in the process.
But she knew better than to expect it to matter. This wasn't something like weight. In the flux she had already been exhausted from a previous day's training and had that vest Midea had made on. If she was fresh she likely would have been able to crawl out admittedly with a great deal of struggle but it wouldn't have taken nearly as long. Her body could adapt but it wasn't the hyper adaptation of some figures in fiction in her first life. She could not rely on it in battle. This was raw, destructive power. Her body lacked the ability to spontaneously change to counter it or so it seemed. She exhaled sharply, her breath hissing through clenched teeth as her muscles flexed. Her body would be a little more resistant to flame after this at least, she mused darkly. Maybe it would build up eventually.
At least, she thought wryly, she would make him pay for every ounce of her suffering.
"Seven sins! Seven desires! Seven virtues! Seven suns! Solgaleo, oh lion whose teeth tear the stars! Oh beast of alchemy who uses heat to purify form! To forge sin, virtue, and desire into transcendence that hangs over all, blinding as the most brilliant of stars! I invoke you in cries to your seven aspects, to your seven claws! Purify all before me! Turn all into a star to devour and transform into what I see fit! Solgaleo Sutra: Sun of Purification!" the man roared his voice a tempest that rippled through the battlefield.
The invocation hung in the air like a decree from the heavens, and the environment trembled in response. Golden radiance erupted from the elder's form, an inferno of power that coalesced into a miniature star, blazing with the intensity of a sun born of wrath and sanctity. The air grew heavy with searing heat, suffocating and oppressive as if the heavens themselves had been drawn into this clash. Each flicker of the star's surface was a tempest of pure energy, promising annihilation to all in its path.
Tanya faintly wondered what the point of all that pompous chanting was, but there wasn't time to dwell on it. A star—a giant, condensed sun—was flying at her face, intent on obliteration.
Gritting her teeth, she forced her blistered, barely healing body to move. Pain surged through her, every muscle and sinew screaming, but survival demanded action. She flared her wings wide, their charred feathers trembling under the strain. Tanya's sharp mind worked furiously, grasping at something she had seen before. Shockwaves.
She had seen the villagers use them in combat, crude bursts of force applied through sheer physical might and numen. Back in the battle with Garran and Midea, and she'd witnessed Hati, and even some students of the academy, utilizing similar techniques, all relying on basic numen reinforcement and slight manipulation of the metaphysical energy. As most of them, were still confined to the first layer, unable to project energy far beyond their bodies. The elder she faced now was leagues beyond them, a force of mastery. Yet those techniques at their core, relied on one fundamental thing: raw strength. And she had plenty of that.
Drawing her arms back as far as they could go, she spread her wings wide, feeling the air ripple against her battered form. The star bore down on her, its heat scorching her skin even at a distance, its blinding brilliance threatening to drown her vision. But Tanya's focus was razor-sharp.
With a guttural roar, she launched all her limbs forward—arms, wings, and even the coiled strength of her body—channeling every ounce of power she possessed into one overwhelming strike. The world responded with a deafening boom that shook the ground beneath her feet. Air rippled violently, folding and shattering into visible waves of compressed force. A conical shockwave surged outward, a tangible beam of destruction that carved through the battlefield like the divine blade of a sky god striking down an insolent sun.
The shockwave clashed with the elder's attack, the conical beam of pure force meeting the faux star in a collision that shattered the air. The impact wasn't merely loud; it was a world-shaking crescendo, a symphony of violence. The ground beneath them cracked, fissures spreading like veins in fractured stone, and the surrounding trees were uprooted, flung back by the sheer magnitude of the energy unleashed. Dust and debris filled the air, a tempest born of their clash. For a fleeting moment, the battlefield was a war of opposing forces—light and heat against raw, unyielding strength.
Then, with a final, blinding crescendo, the faux star erupted in a catastrophic explosion. Golden flames and radiant energy expanded outward, consuming everything in their wake. Tanya's shockwave had stalled it long enough for her to avoid the brunt of the devastation, but the force still hurled her backward. Her body was a blur, crashing into the scorched earth and skidding across the ground as the heat licked at her skin, leaving fresh burns despite her best efforts.
She came to a stop, coughing from the dust and ash that filled the air. The heat clung to her like an invisible predator, gnawing at her skin. Her arms throbbed with pain, the muscles at the base of her wings—the supracoracoideus muscles, if she remembered correctly—screaming in protest. Well, she snickered that was unlikely. She had what eight limbs? She likely had muscles no creature on earth possessed. She lay on the ground for a moment, staring at her trembling limbs, waiting for some sign that she'd pushed herself too far. Her skin was blistered, her muscles likely torn, but there were no catastrophic injuries from her pushing herself so far. It seemed her body was more durable than it was strong luckily for her.
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Even in pain, Tanya couldn't help but analyze. This body would adapt. The muscles would heal. They would become stronger. The fight, brutal as it was, was also a lesson—a step toward growth. But for now, exhaustion weighed on her like a shroud. Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath, every movement a reminder of how much the battle had taken out of her.
The world around her began to settle, the roar of the explosion fading into an eerie quiet. Tanya turned her head, her eyes heavy with fatigue but still sharp. Her arms were scorched, her body battered, but she was alive. She had survived. And for a fleeting moment, it seemed as though the battle was finally ov—
Hathor's form slammed into Tanya with a force that cracked the earth beneath her. Four globules of numen surged from him like oppressive weights, pinning her wings into the dirt, their pressure grinding her down as if the planet itself sought to crush her. His spear, a wicked, gleaming weapon coated in a blazing aura of numen, scythed down toward the left side of her chest with lethal intent. The hum of energy around the spear screamed like a banshee, cutting through the chaos of the battlefield.
"Now it's over!" Hathor roared, his voice dripping with malicious triumph. Tanya's sharp gaze flickered to his form. Blood streamed from where her earlier attack had torn flesh from his body, the raw wounds standing out against his numen-reinforced frame. He had defended well, too well, and now he sought to end her.
The spear pressed down with unrelenting force. She felt her flesh begin to part, her body's incredible resilience finally giving way. Pain lanced through her as her arms snapped upward, catching the spear just beneath its blade. She pushed with all her might, attempting to hold it at bay or snap it in two, but Hathor roared in defiance, flooding the weapon with numen. Its shaft shimmered with reinforced energy, unyielding to her efforts. The spear's advance slowed to a crawl, yet it continued, inching closer to her heart as Hathor poured every ounce of his energy into the assault.
"Your skin is too damn thick," Hathor spat, his grin sharp and wicked. "Once more, you should be dead. But I bet your insides aren't as tough as your outsides."
His words were venom, laced with the confidence of a predator savoring its kill. He leaned forward, his numen flaring brighter, the heat of it palpable as it seared the air around them. Tanya's eyes narrowed against the pain, her vision swimming as the spear's blade finally pierced through her skin and struck her ribs with a metallic clang. Hathor sneered, attempting to twist the spear to find a gap between the bones, but her ribs weren't structured like those of his kind. If she could see inside her own body, she'd witness the lattice-like crystalline structure of her bones, their complex geometry designed for unparalleled durability.
"What the hell are you made of?" Hathor growled, his frustration boiling over as he struggled to push the weapon deeper. He roared in anger, his muscles bulging with effort. The spear finally began to grind through her ribs, the numen-enhanced blade cutting with agonizing slowness. Just as long as it took to get through her skin and even slightly longer. Because her bones were more compact more cells being crammed into a smaller space. Albeit she wouldn't know that. The effort left him snarling, his face twisted in rage.
"This is ridiculous!" he bellowed, his voice echoing across the battlefield. The ground beneath them trembled, cracked and scarred by the intensity of their struggle.
Tanya's breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving as the spear continued its relentless journey. When it reached her heart, a searing burst of agony ripped through her. Her eyes flashed white, the pain so blinding it momentarily eclipsed all thought. Hathor grinned madly, sensing victory as his numen flared anew.
"Fuck it," he snarled, leaning closer, his face inches from hers. "Even if you're that tough all around, let's see how you like being immolated from the inside out. I know you still feel pain!"
With that, he unleashed his fire. The spear became a conduit for his numen, channeling a torrent of flames directly into her heart. Tanya's chest began to glow, a malevolent red radiance seeping through her flesh as the heat built to unbearable levels. Her heart, mighty as it was, began to falter, its outer layers burning away under the relentless assault. The damage was catastrophic, but the pain—the pain was a torment beyond words. It was as if her very essence was being incinerated, consumed by an inferno that sought to hollow her out from within.
"HUURRKK!" Tanya choked, blood spraying from her mouth as she convulsed against the ground. Her blood splattered across Hathor's face, painting his triumphant grin in crimson. He laughed, a grotesque sound that echoed with eerie glee.
"Let's see you heal from this," he hissed, leaning closer, his laughter ringing in her ears.
Her hands pressed into the spear, trembling with the effort of trying to pull the weapon from her chest. Blood seeped around her fingers, and the pain was almost blinding. Then, as her grip faltered momentarily, she noticed something. Her gaze flicked upward, catching a fleeting movement in the periphery. Her hands snapped back to the weapon, gripping it tightly, but this time not to remove it. Instead, she began to feign weakness, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she sagged under the elder's oppressive weight. The man's attention narrowed entirely on her, his sneer deepening as he pressed harder into his attack, unaware of the danger behind him.
Suddenly, a mass of white, black, and red streaked through the battlefield like a comet, crashing into the elder with the force of a collapsing mountain. The impact tore the spear from Tanya's chest, the weapon ripping free with a sickening squelch as the elder let out a startled scream. He was sent hurtling through the air, his body tumbling over Tanya's prone form before slamming into the scorched earth several meters away.
For the first time, Tanya saw her sibling enraged. Truly enraged. She had seen anoyance and caution on her younger sibling before but nothing like this, now he was a storm incarnate a calamity made manifest. Tarak stood over her like a vengeful beast, his body trembling with barely contained wrath. Veins bulged along his neck and temples, pulsating with the intensity of his fury, and his eyes burned with an otherworldly fire, their pupils narrowed into dangerous slits. His fangs, sharp as forged steel, clashed together in his open maw with a metallic ring, sounding like blades scraping against each other.
Tanya's chest heaved as she pressed a shaky hand to her wound, feeling the blood pour out in thick rivulets. A wad of involuntary blood spilled from her mouth as she coughed, staining her lips and chin. The hole in her chest gaped grotesquely, struggling to close, and she could feel her strength waning. One of her hearts had been destroyed; there was no doubt about that. The loss left her staggered, but the knowledge that she had two more hearts kept her conscious. The sheer pain and devastation she had endured, however, made her head swim. Passing out was a tempting prospect. Instead, she forced herself to turn her head and watch the battle unfolding before her.
Tarak was a whirlwind of teeth, claws, horns, and spikes, his form bristling with primal fury. His brown-skinned body shimmered with an ethereal sheen under the light of the fires. Black ridges and barbs jutted from his shoulders and back, gleaming like obsidian, while his tail—a massive, segmented black-white weapon with serrated spines erupting along it's length—lashed behind him with violent intent. His horns curved forward like the crescents of a moon, each edged with razor-sharp ridges that caught the dim light. He was the living embodiment of a predator, a creature designed for destruction.
The elder, wary and almost visibly shaken, scrambled to his feet. He thrust his spear forward in a desperate counterattack, aiming for Tarak's chest. But Tarak was faster, ducking low and whipping his tail around in a deadly arc. The elder barely managed to erect a numen barrier in time, deflecting the tail strike that would have bisected him. Even so, the force of the impact hurled him backward, his boots digging furrows into the dirt as he skidded to a halt.
With a growl, the elder launched a flurry of spear swipes, each one releasing crescent-shaped blades of sun-attributed numen that tore through the air with blinding speed. The golden arcs streaked toward Tarak, their radiance illuminating the battlefield in brief flashes. But Tarak didn't flinch. He walked forward through the onslaught, his Tyrannius flesh absorbing the attacks with an almost dismissive resolve. The numen blades left shallow cuts that oozed dark blood, but they barely slowed him. His pace was relentless, his burning eyes locked onto the elder with predatory focus.
Tarak's charge ended with brutal efficiency. He drove his frontal horns into the elder's arm, the force shattering the man's barrier and sending numen sparks scattering like fireflies. The horn pierced flesh and bone with a sickening crunch, while Tarak's fangs clamped down on the same arm with terrifying ferocity. The sound of his teeth sinking into the elder's flesh was a wet, visceral squelch that sent shivers through the air.
"Get the fuck off of me, you rabid animal!" the elder screamed, his voice a mixture of rage and panic.
But Tarak would not listen. His rage was unrelenting as he gripped the elder in his fangs, shaking him violently like a predator savaging its prey. The sickening sound of flesh tearing and bones creaking echoed across the battlefield as Tarak whipped his head side to side, thrashing the man like a dog with a toy. Then, with a guttural snarl, he hurled Hathor into the distance with a force that sent him crashing through shattered trees, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake.
Hathor barely managed to recover, staggering to his feet only to be met with the descending fist of Tarak. The blow landed with the weight of a mountain, slamming the elder into the earth. The ground erupted in an explosion of dirt and debris, a shockwave rippling outward that rattled Tanya where she lay. Dust hung in the air like a shroud, and for a moment, it seemed Tarak might finally have ended it.
Amid the chaos, a figure rushed toward Tanya, their golden hair catching the light like a fleeting sunbeam. The sight was almost surreal against the backdrop of carnage. It took Tanya a moment to recognize the newcomer—Sol. The golden-haired wolf child, whose determined face mirrored shades of her own defiance, skidded to her side, eyes wide with horror.
"Surya! Are you okay? Do you need my help? Have you seen my sister?" Sol's voice cracked as she shouted, her hands trembling as they cradled Tanya's battered form.
Tanya groaned, her body protesting every movement as she tried to sit up. Her vision swam, but her mind remained sharp. Sol's frantic words echoed in her ears, and her gaze followed the girl's line of sight. There, near the smoldering remnants of the battlefield, lay Luna—burned, unconscious, and motionless. Her small form looked even more broken than before, her body twisted unnaturally. She had likely been damaged from the effects of the battle. Tanya's chest tightened at the sight.
Sucking in a sharp breath, she forced herself to move. Her hands dug into the earth as she began plucking grass and shoving it into her mouth. Sol stared at her in shock, unable to comprehend the action. The bitter taste of crushed vegetation flooded Tanya's senses, but she didn't care. Throughout the battle, she had been unconsciously gaining minimal energy from the plants she had inadvertently killed. It wasn't enough to shift the tide of the fight however. But eating these plants now would soothe her current pain and allow her to talk to the girl even if it wouldn't really accelerate her healing.
Swallowing hard, Tanya turned her bloodstained face toward Sol. "Luna is over there," she said, her voice rasping with the strain of injury. "Take her to the village. She needs healers." Her words were clipped, each one forced out through gritted teeth. "I'll be fine. I will recover. The most important thing you can do right now is find Midea and tell him where we are. Okay?"
Sol's dark eyes darted between Tanya and Luna, her face pale with fear. She clutched her hands over her mouth, staring at the battered girl by the fire. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" she asked, her voice trembling. "You have a hole in your chest! I'll get you both out, alright?"
Tanya shook her head firmly, her resolve unyielding despite the blood that trickled from her lips. She pushed herself to her feet, her legs shaking under the effort. Her wound had begun to close, the incredible resilience of her body fighting against the damage, but every breath was a struggle.
Her eyes turned to the fight in the distance. Tarak stood tall, his form a terrifying silhouette against the flickering fires. Hathor had managed to land a burning strike along Tarak's side, the numen-infused flames licking at his side and leaving blistered flesh in their wake. But even as Tanya watched, her brother rose from the dirt, his wounds already knitting together with impossible speed. His rage burned brighter than any fire.
"We need to kill this man," Tanya said, her voice cold and steady. Her amethyst gaze locked onto Sol, her tone brooking no argument. "This man who hurt your sister. We'll be fine. You go, okay?"
The quiet authority in her voice seemed to cut through Sol's panic. The girl nodded hesitantly, her face pale but resolute.She rushed off toward her sister, but Hathor's sharp eyes caught her. A beam of sunlit numen tore through the air, aimed to strike Sol down. Before it could reach her, Tarak's serrated tail lashed out in a violent arc, generating a whirling air blade that intercepted the beam with a thunderous crack. The resulting shockwave forced Hathor to dodge, snarling in frustration as Sol disappeared into the distance with the unconscious Luna in her arms.
Tanya forced her battered body to move. Every muscle protested as her wings unfurled, the effort sending tremors through her injured frame. With a single powerful flap, she ascended into the air, her glare fixed on Hathor with the intensity of a falling star. Both Tarak and Hathor snapped their eyes up to her in shock.
"How?!" Hathor roared, his voice a mixture of disbelief and fury.
But Tarak was already moving, seizing the opportunity. His body blurred as he accelerated, slamming into the ground at full speed. His fist slamming into the ground before coming up in a massive uppercut towards the elder. The impact sent a torrent of rocks and debris skyward, a cloud of chaos enveloping the battlefield and obscuring Hathor's vision.
"This shit again!" Hathor bellowed, his rage palpable. He expelled a surge of numen, the golden energy radiating outward in a shockwave to clear the area. But Tanya had anticipated this. She caught one of the larger rocks midair, her clawed hands gripping it tightly. With a sharp twist of her body, she hurled the stone toward Hathor with unerring precision. It struck him across the skull, drawing a line of blood down his temple. He snarled, raising his spear to block the other incoming projectiles she had begun to throw, but the distraction was enough.
Tarak surged upward from the dust cloud like a leviathan erupting from the depths. His powerful jaws snapped around Hathor's leg, his blade-like fangs sinking deep into flesh and bone. With a guttural roar, Tarak swung the elder down with bone-crushing force, slamming him into the ground. The earth splintered under the impact, cracks radiating outward like a spider's web.
Tanya didn't hesitate. She folded her wings, dropping from the sky like a meteor. Using the momentum of her descent, she seized both her ankles and drove her knees into Hathor's chest. The collision was cataclysmic, the resulting crater swallowing the three combatants in a plume of dust and debris. Tanya felt the satisfying crack of ribs beneath her, a visceral confirmation of the damage she'd inflicted.
Hathor swung his spear wildly to ward her off, but Tanya deflected the strike with a sharp sweep of her wing, the metallic sound of impact ringing out. Tarak was already there, his serrated tail wrapping around Hathor's neck like a noose. The elder struggled, his numen flaring to prevent immediate decapitation, but the effort left him vulnerable. Tanya tensed, her claws gleaming in the fractured light, and struck. Her hand pierced through his stomach and erupted out his back with ease, a geyser of blood following the motion.
Hathor roared in pain, grabbing Tarak and hurling him away with a desperate surge of strength. His booted foot connected with Tanya's midsection, sending her skidding backward, but the siblings were unrelenting. They moved like predators, feral and unyielding, their motions a seamless dance of fury and precision. They had begun to rage.
Flashes of silver, gold, and amethyst streaked through the air as Tanya descended from above, her attacks relentless as the legendary king of avians. From below, Tarak's black, white, and crimson form surged forward, a behemoth of claws, horns, and teeth. Hathor's defenses faltered under their combined onslaught, his numen reserves dwindling as he struggled to keep up. Tanya pushed through the searing pain of her injuries, refusing to stop. If she paused even for a second, she knew her body might collapse.
Tarak struck low, his powerful legs sweeping under Hathor and sending him sprawling. Tanya seized the opportunity, descending behind him with terrifying speed. She grabbed Hathor by the neck, her claws digging into his flesh, and swung him around like a ragdoll before slamming him back into the ground. The impact was met with Tarak's waiting fist, a brutal strike that blasted Hathor skyward.
Tanya followed in an instant, her wings propelling her upward. She slashed downward with all of her wings, their razor edges cutting through the elder's spear as he raised it in desperation. The weapon shattered, wooden fragments falling like rain as her attack carved four deep grooves into his chest. Hathor screamed, his broken body plummeting into a massive crater below.
Tanya landed lightly beside Tarak, her chest heaving as she surveyed their handiwork. Blood dripped from her claws, her body trembling with exhaustion and pain. Tarak turned to her, his crimson eyes filled with fierce pride and an unspoken question. She sighed, reaching out a hand to rub his head. He leaned into the gesture, a small, fleeting smile gracing her lips before her expression hardened again.
Together, they turned their attention to Hathor, who lay battered and broken at the center of the crater. Hunger gnawed at Tanya, more desperate and insistent than ever, a primal need that resonated through every fiber of her being. Tarak's tail lashed behind him, his form coiled and ready to strike. They moved forward in unison, their predatory intent clear. This was their victory, and they would claim it in blood and bone. They stalked toward their prey, ready to slaughter and split the man who dared to stand against them.
But then, a wave of immense pressure descended from above, heavy and suffocating like a tidal wave crashing over them. Tanya's head snapped up as the force knocked her and Tarak backward, sending them skidding across the fractured ground. The very air trembled with power as the tallest man in the village, Chief Remus, descended from the sky. His landing was a shockwave, the sheer magnitude of his cultivation forcing the siblings to steady themselves as dust swirled around them.
Before they could react, another burst of energy—a mix of shadow and flame—split the air. Midea appeared, materializing in a vortex of purple and dark numen, Sol cradled in his arms. The atmosphere crackled with tension, the clash of opposing energies palpable as the two figures loomed over the battlefield.
Remus's gaze swept the scene, taking in the broken field, the shattered remnants of the battle, and the elder's near-lifeless body crumpled in the crater. His eyes widened in disapproval and disbelief.
"What is the meaning of this?" Remus's voice was quiet, but it carried an undercurrent of anger that made Tanya's stomach twist.
Midea's response was sharp, laced with fury. "Yes, what is the meaning of this?" His flames coiled tighter around him, casting an ominous glow. "I came to this village, granting new wards, force, and even techniques—all in exchange for a place to stay and the protection of the children. And yet, look at them! Look at Surya!" Darkness and flame erupted from him in waves, his purple numen radiating raw power and righteous indignation.
"Twice this has happened!" Remus thundered, his own numen surging outward like a storm. "And this time, it is an elder of our village. What explanation do you have for this destruction?"
Nearby, Tanya heard Tarak growl low in his throat, a dangerous sound that rumbled like distant thunder. She placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch calming him as she stepped forward. Her gaze shifted to Sol, who stood trembling, tears welling in her eyes.
"Stop!" Sol's voice cracked as she ran between the opposing forces. Her golden hair whipped in the wind as she spread her arms wide. "This is my Luna's house! Chief Remus, you saw how injured she was. She had bruises on her hand from how hard she was being dragged. It was the elder. He was doing something to her! Tarak and Surya were only trying to help!"
"Luna's mother, Caela's home?" Remus's expression darkened as he glanced back at the elder lying battered in the crater. A grimace twisted his features, but his voice remained measured. "Explain yourself."
The elder's voice rasped weakly as he crawled out of the crater, his body trembling with effort. "Chieftain, they're slandering me!" he protested, his tone pitiful. "The girl attacked me for harming her brother, though I only acted because my son was in danger. Then the brother came to reinforce her. That girl is their friend; this is all just some little scheme they cooked up to harm me… an elder!"
Midea's flames flared in response, casting long shadows across the ruined battlefield. "Silence, scum!" he snarled, his voice icy. "I wonder what I'll find when I search Luna's body for traces of your numen."
The elder's weak laugh echoed unnervingly. "Ahaha! I was only trying to save the girl from the fire. I admit I touched her, but what else can you really prove, Satyr?"
Before the tension could boil over, Tanya stepped forward, her voice cutting through the mounting storm. "Isn't there a court?" she asked, her tone sharp but calm. "We will take this issue there, with Luna and Sol as witnesses." Her words were deliberate, each one chosen to douse the flames of conflict before they consumed everyone.
Tarak looked at her in surprise, his growl subsiding as he turned his gaze toward her. Remus sighed, his shoulders sagging as the weight of the situation pressed down on him.
"Yes," the chieftain said, exhaustion lacing his voice. "That seems like a proper solution. We will meet in three days. Ensure your witness survives until then. Poor child, Luna. It doesn't look like she'll live much longer." He strode to the broken elder, hauling him up with rough hands before taking him away.
Tanya's head snapped toward Midea, her crimson eyes questioning. Midea only shook his head solemnly, his expression grave. Tanya moved forward but she felt hands hold her back. She turned to look over to Tarak.
"You need to rest, sister," Tarak said gently, his voice low but firm as he placed a steadying hand on her shoulder.
"Not just yet, Tarak," Tanya replied, her tone resolute as she peeled his hands away. Her eyes burning with determination as she walked past him, her battered body pushing through the exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm her.
She strode up to Midea, her steps unwavering despite the weakness in her limbs. "Take me to Luna," she demanded, her voice steady but urgent.
Midea regarded her for a moment, then nodded, his dark flames flickering briefly around him as he gestured for her to follow. Together, they moved through the slowly recovering village, where signs of recent chaos lingered in every corner. Villagers worked tirelessly to clear debris, mend homes, and tend to the wounded. The air was thick with the scent of ash and the faint tang of blood, but there was also the faint, persistent aroma of herbs from the healers working nearby. Children with wide, frightened eyes clung to their parents, and the occasional moan of pain from the injured added to the somber atmosphere.
Midea led her to a building nestled near the heart of the village. It was modest yet sturdy, its walls adorned with symbols of healing and protection. Inside, priestesses—the village's revered healers—moved with quiet urgency, their hands glowing faintly with numen as they attended to the injured. The faint hum of healing incantations filled the air, a soothing yet melancholic melody.
Midea guided Tanya to a dimly lit room where a woman with black hair and piercing blue eyes sat by Luna's bedside. Lain, one of the more powerful priestesses and Hati's rival, she held a damp cloth to Luna's forehead, her brows furrowed in deep concentration. The young girl lay motionless, her once vibrant face marred by severe burns. Her breathing was shallow, her fragile body almost swallowed by the cot beneath her.
"The girl isn't fighting," Lain said grimly, not looking up from her work. "She has too many contusions and internal injuries. The numen from the flame spirit is worsening her burns. It's rare, but her body must be heavily moon-attributed. She's not well-suited to yang energies."
Tanya shook her head in worry also musing about the woman's words. Considering this was a cultivation world she supposed it was only natural to hear about the concepts of yin and yang but it was still a bit surprising. She looked at Luna whose face was half burned a mere shadow of her former self. Apparently there was nothing they could do for her. But she knew someone who likely could.
"YOU! You need to stop and rest!" Lain's voice cut sharply through Tanya's thoughts. The healer's blue eyes bore into her with a mix of frustration and concern and sheer shock at her current state. "I'll call in another to tend to you now!"
Tanya shook her head. "We don't have time," she muttered, her exhaustion evident in her tone. She turned to Midea, her tired eyes meeting his dark, calculating gaze. "Knock her out or do something. We need to act."
Lain's face froze in shock as Midea moved without hesitation. With a swift, precise motion, he chopped the side of her neck. Her body stiffened momentarily before slumping forward, caught in his arms.
"You need to talk," Midea said flatly, as though making an observation rather than asking a question.
Tanya asked exhausted but clear. "You can save her, can you not?" she asked, her eyes searching his.
Midea sighed, his sharp features softening ever so slightly. "Perhaps," he admitted, his tone guarded.
Tanya's expression hardened. "Then what exactly are you waiting for?" she said sharply, her voice cutting through the tension.
Midea's gaze lingered on her for a long moment before he exhaled heavily. "I can only do this once," he said, his voice carrying an unusual weight. "And it comes with consequences. For her and for me."
Tanya leaned forward despite the exhaustion pulling at her. "We need her for the trial, Midea. We need her to make our case. And she's just a kid." Her voice cracked slightly, but she pressed on. "No consequences can be worse than death. Nothing is worse than death, despite what people may tell you. All those people are alive." Her words hung in the air, final and unyielding.
Midea's dark red eyes studied her intently, as if searching for something. Finally, he sighed again, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "You're certain about this?" he asked, though it was more a formality than genuine hesitation.
Tanya nodded, too tired to argue further. Midea closed his eyes briefly, murmuring something under his breath—a quiet prayer to forces beyond. Perhaps to Satan himself, though Tanya couldn't bring herself to care. She watched him intently, every ounce of her remaining strength focused on Luna's fragile form, hoping against hope that Midea's intervention would be enough.
"If we get off this planet, you better put in a good word for me with your mother and Lord Lilith," Midea muttered, his voice tinged with weariness and resolve. He sighed deeply, his crimson eyes darkening as he brought a clawed hand to his chest. With deliberate precision, he began to cut open the skin over his heart. Purple blood seeped out, thick and luminous, its eerie glow casting fleeting shadows across the dimly lit room.
Tanya watched silently, her breath catching as she realized the gravity of his actions. Each movement was precise, controlled—a ritual born of knowledge far beyond her own understanding. The faint scent of sulfur and iron filled the air, mingling with the ever-present aroma of herbs from the healers' work outside. Midea's expression remained stoic, but the faint lines of pain etched into his face betrayed the toll this was taking on him.
"Luna is her name, right?" Midea said, his voice low but steady as he glanced at the frail girl lying on the cot. "With a yin-attributed physique, it's fitting. What a great name for a devil of the moon."