With unwavering confidence, Nova strode across her makeshift pathway, her boots crunching against the scattered debris of dismembered limbs and clean-cut torsos. The faces of terror-stricken men contorted in anguish as they jostled against each other, distancing themselves, their gaze fixated upon her imposing figure. They were too frightened to avert their eyes, fearing they'd be struck down if they dared, for who would turn their backs to such a threat. Better eyes than none as a hunter would, slow crawl, slow crawl, do not sprite and resemble prey, then one might live another day. A famous hunting proverb that the Imperial soldiers now took to heart. As she advanced toward the opposite end, the breadth of her path expanded, and the once-resolute Imperial soldiers, toughened by rigorous training and combat, now wilted before her. Their spirit broken, their will to fight sapped away.
Within Nova's mind, a dwindling resistance struggled to maintain her sense of reason and self. The once bright flames of her resolve had dwindled into mere embers, threatening to extinguish at any moment. Emerging from the other end, a different yet familiar person occupied her body.
According to the elders of the Anyi, those who lose all sense of self in war can become nothing more than demons, the very embodiment of an almir manifest in a person, an existence to be avoided at any cost, for the worst are born from such a breed. And nothing else described her better than her current state.
Early symptoms of the Blood Spider, a condition caused by bloodlust, often included erratic and nonsensical behavior. Even then, the user typically maintains some level of control over their intentions and personality partially evident in their actions. However, Nova's complete surrender to the Blood Spider erased her sense of self entirely. The Blood Spider had taken fragments of her personality, twisted them, and made them its own. Her only way back now was to lose consciousness, die, or run out of reserves. Nova had clearly underestimated the potency of the Blood Spider, an effect she had never truly experienced to this degree and duration.
She surveyed her surroundings with intense focus, her expression devoid of emotion, her movements sluggish and deliberate. Multiple magic bolts flew at her from various sources. Nova allowed them to hit, the bolts landing with a blue burst all over her body, cracking her already damaged coverage in multiple places. She barely cared, not moving an inch as more bolts landed with increasing ferocity.
"There you are," Nova whispered, her voice carrying an eerie warmth. Her predatory gaze swept from one target to the next as bolts of magic crackled through the air. In a fluid motion, Nova took a single step forward, and then she simply vanished.
The four mages, gripped by a sense of foreboding, observed as Nova seamlessly disappeared. In response, they immediately prepared defensive spells in tense anticipation.
"Where did she go?" Mage two's inquiry was directed at the group's leader, mage one, who stood at the forefront.
"I don't know," mage one replied. "But be on guard. Cast your spells quickl—" His words were abruptly silenced by the resounding crack of his barrier being shattered, just before a blade slid from beneath his throat, and Nova materialized on top of him.
Launching herself off the choking mage, Nova dashed towards mage two, the chilling sound of gurgling accompanying her swift assault. Mage two hastily reinforced his defensive barrier as he yelled in fright. Meanwhile, the two remaining mages, positioned further away, prematurely unleashed their underpowered bolts. Nova's abrupt appearance compelled them to act hastily, disrupting their efforts to fully harness their power. Faced with the choice of immediate response or helplessly witnessing their comrade's demise, they grappled with the urgency of the moment.
Focused on her next target, Nova, unaware of the incoming magical attack, instinctively dropped to almost a crawl, relying on her acute senses. The two projectiles harmlessly soared over her as she sprung back up, sword at the ready. Without hesitation, she brute-forced her way through mage two's protective barrier.
Her blade shattered the sphere before he could cast another spell. With no alternative, he drew his sword, augmenting his body, and shouted, "Die! You—" His declaration was sharply severed along with his head.
Nova's focus quickly shifted to the two remaining mages, who, with distressed expressions, took a few nervous steps back, preparing spells.
“You re-really think you can just came here alone, an-and make out of here alive?” mage three stammered. “There are more of us, they will come. D-do you believe we lack the spells to deal with you?”
“Bring your whole armory. It won't help,” Nova said curtly.
She began condensing water vapor in the air around them, droplets so small it was nearly invisible to the human eye. The mages, focused on Nova, failed to notice, seconds away from casting an attack. Nova graced them with a fragile smile, seemingly sympathetic. But there lingered no trace of empathy or remorse within her, rather, she regarded their helplessness with a detached sorrow, recognizing their obliviousness to their own vulnerability.
Then, she transmuted the tiny droplets into a haunting mist. The mages, caught in the midst of casting, exhaled visible breaths, confusion painted their faces as their bodies stiffened, involuntary gasps for air betraying their predicament. Within their lungs, delicate ice particles began to form. Nova approached one with a dispassionate glare, ensuring the crystallization within them occurred at a deliberately decelerated pace, prolonging their deaths. Otherwise, their suffering would only last a few seconds, far too short.
“I will not kneel to you," mage three wheezed, his face contorting in horrific pain.
“You will,” Nova asserted, her voice seeping with conviction, before severing both his lower legs at the knee. His body crumpled. “Let the blood represent your will, meager and thin. Soon your body will be drained of all red, and your lungs of their wind. Rest well, you for one deserve it. I hope your next foreign venture grants you more luck.”
As the third mage lay on his back, gasping and desperately clinging to life, his body slowly succumbing to an encroaching cold. Nova's attention swiftly shifted to the remaining foe. The grass beneath them began to frost, and the air had just met freezing.
“I am not scared of you,” the last mage rasped defiantly.
“Then you'll die braver than most.”
Nova raised her right index finger in a deliberate, almost ceremonial, upward gesture. To the mage's pure bewilderment, his right arm followed suit, a puppet to Nova's aura. He struggled to resist, using the last remnants of his defiance, but the searing pain that accompanied quickly caused his will to wane.
Nova was engaged in an unprecedented action, unknown even to her true self, potentially for the better. The act of direct intrusion into another's body was a notable taboo in the Sundahelm, grounded in ethical considerations. Despite the division of the Sundahelm into various clans, a shared culture and identity persisted, accompanied by a set of social laws and rules. One such fundamental principle was the right to one's own body, a core ethical belief that underpinned numerous practices, which of course, included artforms.
While it may appear peculiar, there exists an ethical framework for causing harm. Nova's current actions, however, trespassed on heresy. Mortal Intrusion, regardless of alliance, carried severe consequences. If discovered, observers, if any, are compelled to report and condemn the transgression, leading to punishments ranging from social exclusion to execution or exile after mutilation. But if the witness opts to conceal the misdeed, they might also bear responsibility, whether in part or otherwise, for the false seeker's crime when, and if, it is ever uncovered.
By manipulating the water molecules within his body, Nova wasn't controlling him in the conventional sense but compelling compliance through pain. The forceful manipulation of water caused fierce agony for the resistant victim. Nova, acting on instinct rather than intention, possessed weak and inexperienced control over the water within him. It seemed the creators of her artform hadn't considered the complete extent of its capabilities.
Abruptly halting her actions, Nova's interest waned. The individual no longer held her attention, becoming nothing more than an eyesore. Ceasing her control, he thrashed around in pain. His suffering, once of mild interest, now disgusted her. Two swift stabs later, he became a lifeless husk. Nova surveyed the now frozen corpse of mage three and smiled, satisfied with a job well done.
"Disappointing," a cloaked mage remarked, standing at a distance as he strolled into the scene, a shorter mage trailing behind him. "To think a whole squad of 2nd-tier mages wasn't enough for a single knight. It seems I arrived too late."
"And whom do I owe the pleasure?" Nova asked bluntly.
The cloaked mage halted, leisurely exposing his features by removing his hood. Flowing down his shoulders was a cascade of silky blonde hair, adding an unexpected softness to his otherwise delicate, finely framed face. Arched eyebrows, high cheekbones, and a refined jawline awarded an androgynous grace upon him, a stark contrast to his deep, scorn-laden voice and piercing blue eyes. To Nova, he looked seemingly more fit to be some brothel’s whore than a grizzled war mage, an impression only somewhat shattered by the contempt in his gaze.
“I am Luis Castillo,” he declared with measured calm, a hint of disdain coloring his words. “And that's all you need to know. Neither my rank nor role matters. What matters is that I'll be your last. You will traverse the void with nothing but my name as your farewell, northerner.”
Luis seethed, a rage brewing within him. The turmoil and whispers of a mage daring to defy orders had drawn him to this confrontation. A mage who abandoned his comrades to avenge a defenseless knight, a mere knight... Yet, he hadn't foreseen discovering an entire squad of mages decimated by a single, seemingly insignificant northerner. They were inexperienced, yes, fresh in their tier and in need of training, but this? Failing to dispatch a lone knight? It was infuriating.
What a complete waste. The loss of five 2nd-tier mages bore the weight of extravagance. Decades of painstaking training and effort obliterated in mere moments. Unlike knights, mages weren't confined to combat, their versatility allowed them to adapt to various roles based on spells learned and education received. Roles that could be shifted with time as required. The notion that five mages, with decades of potential value ahead, were felled by one filthy northerner kindled a rage in Luis that surpassed all reason.
Luis turned to face the mage behind him. "Leave. Regroup with the others. I'll join you soon once I deal with this filth."
“Filth?” Nova retorted with amusement, slowly advancing towards him.
The look Luis cast upon her was a mixture of hatred and disgust. He drew his sword, the blade humming with an ominous energy, while his left hand crackled with electricity. Simultaneously, he conjured bolts of magic in the air around him. Nova, perceiving the shifting dynamics, dashed towards him, navigating through a storm of magical projectiles. His bolts, while marginally swifter than an arrow, might as well be crawling to her. Disappointment lurked as she pondered how a slingshot could effortlessly launch their projectiles several times faster. Greed ate at her, she wanted nothing to come easy. Her bloodlust demanded effort for every kill, it would not be satiated otherwise.
Nova weaved between and past the flying bolts, easily closing the gap. As she neared sword reach, Luis unleashed a burst of charged lightning. Nova nimbly weaved under it, still moving at a smooth speed, not wasting any momentum. Luis, astonished by her evasion at such close quarters, hastily reinforced his protective barrier. Drawing from recent encounters, Nova coiled her left hand into a fist, delivering a resolute punch into the air right in front of him. Satisfaction grew as the invisible barrier illuminated with a dim blue glow, followed by a distinct creak and eventual collapse.
“What!?” Luis shouted, utterly flabbergasted. A barrier of his caliber ought to withstand multiple ballista shots, yet she effortlessly breached it with a single punch? “Foul brute!” he spat.
The sound of sword exchanges echoed, resembling iron against marble, as an enchanted sword clashed with aura. Nova playfully jabbed her rapier at him, swiftly moving in and out of his sword's reach. Quickly growing annoyed, Luis strengthened his body, applied multiple layers of magic coating, and began forming the early stages of a spell in his mind. He then leaped into the attack.
The fight slowly and surely dragged on, Nova continuing to toy with the mage. With each swing, she ensured their swords struck, testing his body's resilience. Luis and the rest of his magical kind contradicted her earlier beliefs, challenging the notion that only knights were capable of engaging in combat with one another. He challenged the idea that knights were unrivaled in the realm of warfare. Magic, once an unimaginable foreign concept to her, now intrigued her. She wanted to witness its true capabilities, to determine if it truly lived up to its praise as the paramount force that outsiders so proudly proclaim.
Luis felt his arm ache with each parry, the weight and intensity increasing with Nova's aggression. His once-solid footing shaken, he involuntarily took a step back, then two, then three. Eventually, he gave up on holding his ground, recognizing that contending with a brute was a fool's errand. He began moving swiftly, with Nova joining the dance, both racing across the field. The fight transitioned from steadfast displays of strength to skillful, light swordplay intertwined with rapid movements. They whirled around each other, never lingering in the same spot for long.
Frustration simmered within him as Nova nimbly dodged a strike to her head by a hair, almost playfully, before returning the greeting. He found himself engaged in a challenging game, for knights, swift and dynamic combat was their expertise. Adding to the difficulty, he was unaware that knights even had distinct classes. While conscious of their tactical roles, he had yet to grasp the various fighting styles that existed among the knights. A concept that should have been obvious, considering the numerous combat methodologies prevalent elsewhere. But Luis in his arrogance, disinterest, and blind belief in magic supremacy, tends to squander such thoughts unless fed.
Nova, being a flanker, made his current game of movement the most ill-advised play he could have chosen. But Luis was about to demonstrate the essence of a war mage. For Nova, swordplay dominated her thoughts in every fight, serving as her primary avenue to secure victory. In contrast, for Luis, swordsmanship functioned as a supplement to spell preparation, a means to an end.
The two formulas he had been preparing were finally complete, now ready to be cast at any moment. He awaited an opportunity. Throughout the confrontation, he absorbed any information that could have been gleaned from her, any useful details that might assist in her demise. Having already canceled nine spells in preparation, deeming them ineffective. He continued to analyze her, narrowing down his selection with each exchange.
She's fast, agile, and very annoying, he thought. Her earlier displays hinted at water-related abilities. The unnatural mist, temperature, and frozen ground supported this assumption. Systematically, he honed in on a few spells deemed most suitable for her downfall.
In a heartbeat, Luis leaped away, Nova hot on his heels. The fractional gap created just before Nova responded to his abrupt jump was a calculated maneuver. The two impending spells, intertwined into a singular execution, one spell being the compulsory prerequisite to the other, began its activation. This practice of multicasting for one result is called the Twin-Sight Method. With a sly smirk, Luis whispered, "Realms Dominion, Harbinger."
An invisible dome, roughly 15 meters in radius, enveloped Luis, visible only to him, albeit faintly. The air abruptly grew drier, and the ambient temperature rose slightly. Nova halted, detecting the subtle shift with her sharp senses. Luis smirked, observing the effects of the creature he summoned already taking effect. The alterations in the air weren't from his dominion but the imminent arrival of the summoned creature.
Luis had stuck to basic attacks and spells until now for a reason, he was a summoner. Henceforth, he would assume the role he'd trained for throughout his entire academic career. As a support mage, he'll focus on maintaining his summoned creature, intervening with spells only when necessary to conserve mana.
The burden on his body intensified, and agonizing waves of pain rushed through him with an almost violent insistence, his tolerance ascending to meet the unwelcome tide. The art of summoning was no gentle affair, it was convoluted and irrational, only made more so by his recent acquisition of this creature. Summetery, the field of his craft, remained mysterious and entrenched in antiquity despite the many modern advancements in magic past and present. Its formulas, at times, seemed more like cryptic incantations, relics from an era preceding the advent of the scientific method in magical pursuits.
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He was confident in controlling the creature, Luis chose it strategically for its suitability against Nova. Few in his roster could contend with a knight, and only this one possessed anti-water traits. Summoning a different creature, only for it to succumb to water, would have been a wasted effort, if not also embarrassing for someone of his caliber.
The barely visible dome gradually faded into nonexistence, signaling the completion of its role. Nova, cautious, sensed danger but refrained from attacking Luis. Her intense bloodlust sought another target, one that had yet to exist. The air, now arid with each breath, heightened the tension. In an instant, her body tensed with sudden alarm, her senses spiraling into chaos as an ever further surge in bloodlust overwhelmed her, tinting her vision with shades of red. And she reacted accordingly, her eyes fixating on a tear in reality, revealing the manifestation of a Dusk Bosni, emerging into their world.
She witnessed a scene before her that seemed like pure mythical fantasy, a reflection of the fairy tales she had heard as a child. Absurd narratives woven with logic and rationale that found coherence solely within fiction. Observing the bosni, she resembled a curious child, devoid of conscious fear when disregarding her body's warnings. Instead, there was a sense of discovery. Fear was absent for there existed no foundation upon which it could take root, no familiar reference point to anchor unease within her heart. Never before had she observed such a phenomenon. True, it looked intimidating, but Nova was not a child to simply be afraid of mere appearance. Alarmed yes, but that was it.
The bosni had a deer's head, covered in decomposing flesh and exposed bone. It bore two studs atop where horns might've been, with hollow eye sockets that seemed to hold a dark abyss within. Despite its decay, there was no foul odor, at least none that had reached her yet. Standing at a daunting two and a half meters, the creature possessed wrinkled, charcoal-like skin, sporadic patches of fur, and massive shoulders. Long arms reached down to its knees, each ending in long, thin claws resembling short swords. Disproportionately large feet supported slim but muscular legs. Surprisingly, the bosni made no sound, defying Nova's expectation of a monstrous scream upon its appearance, a traditional introduction for creatures of its kind. Unless her childhood stories were a blatant lie.
Nova couldn't help but chuckle, a light laughter that evolved into outright amusement. She couldn't pinpoint the source of her mirth, and her bloodlust obscured cognitive thought. Caution and logical analysis, once pillars of her critical thinking, gave way to impulse and insanity. Now, her actions lacked coherence, thoughts arose, and she acted upon them, nothing more. The less thought involved the better, as overthinking merely deepened the shroud around her mind, leading to nothing but endless irritating pain. In her current state, everything she did seemed absurd. Right now she was driven by an undefined humor that compelled her to laugh without understanding why.
Luis's expression twisted in distaste as Nova's reaction deviated from the script he had envisioned. Like, what the fuck was this? He'd never encountered someone who could so easily provoke him. "Tell me, are all knights from the north lunatics like you?"
"I mean, perhaps, perhaps not," Nova snickered. "Tell me, does all cowards like you need a fire-smoked deer to stroke you up? Or maybe I am just asking the obvious, cowards do come in all skill sets I suppose."
Luis gnashed his teeth, striving to maintain composure. "We'll see who's talking by the end of this. This beast will be your end. Try not to die too quickly, I didn't pay this creature's price for a poor return."
"I'm flattered, but this method of seduction is a bit much don't you think? I have preferences you know. Maybe we can talk this out as I remove your head for display."
Luis scowled, commanding his beast to attack her with a thought. It lunged in utter silence. Suddenly, Nova's vision blurred, and her balance faltered. Something was wrong. She discerned the swift movement of a large figure, accompanied by a whooshing sound. Acting on instinct, she ducked, narrowly avoiding a cascade of claws hurtling past her.
The dusk bosni's primary attack method was psychological in nature. To the standards of a knight, its physical attacks were rather poor and lacked power, though its speed is considerably decent. But what set it apart were the mental assaults, a realm where Kin's knights were unaccustomed. Knights were undeniably mentally resilient in nature, their ability to persist in battle even after sustaining substantial injuries attested to this fact. However, psychological warfare was an entirely different matter and deemed a form of mortal intrusion. The idea of violating another's mind has never gained traction in any practice across the Sundahelm, especially war. That said, it doesn't mean such cases do not exist. Like any society, there will always be those who seek unethical means to satisfy their greed. Consequently, due to a lack of need, knight training against psychological attacks never existed to begin with, let alone as an option.
For the first time in her life, Nova found herself mentally affected by something other than herself. If she were accustomed to this underhanded fighting, the outcome might have been different, but she wasn't. Swinging in the general direction she thought the bosni was, Nova hit nothing but air. Claws raked her back while her mind was warped, displaying multiple overlapping images. Though her aura shielded her from damage, it was only a matter of time before it gave in.
Luis observed with sick enjoyment, as Nova, like a blind dog, struggled against the bosni's attacks. Her unsteady steps led to her tripping and falling. Rolling aside just in time to avoid an incoming attack. Nova got up slowly, wiping a little dirt off her mouth with her left, visibly angry.
Hallucinations plagued her vision, rendering it more a hindrance than a tool. She opted to close her eyes, concluding that vision was redundant. Now, reliant on her keen senses, they became the sole conduit of reliable information. Her body, however, rebelled with the bosni-induced sluggishness and nauseating effects, throwing her further off balance. It leaped at her, and despite not seeing, she discerned its movements through subtle changes in air pressure and sound. At least she thought she was.
Claws ran across her face, causing her to flinch in surprise. She would parry the next, then block, before the creature struck her knee, then the other, then her chest, shoulder, back. Through hissing steel and gritted teeth, she desperately tried to adapt. But learning to trust and process her other senses was harder than expected. Was she this over-reliant on her eyes? She tried using her eyes again, but only for a moment because when they opened, the world was a sideways, hazy, melted, abstract assortment of colors, forcing her to close them shut once more.
Nova ran to make distance, only to trip and fall, then fall again. She swiped the air, attempting to defend herself as claws raked her back yet again. This is pathetic, the Blood Spider thought. A miserable end. Even the darkness of hell would laugh at her entrance. At the least, she was spared the absence of Raid's mournful gaze. But who was Raid? Did she know someone like that? A lucky parry, before the creature landed another hit, her reserves fell as she retaliated with a punch, only to miss. Why was she suddenly thinking so much? Thoughts hurt. She should stop. But how long must this go on for? No, pointless thoughts. Kill. That's all that matters. Kill the thing. Everything she has. Cost. Whatever the cost. Then, abruptly, a moment of pause. A fraction of a second. She felt it, a chance. Chance! A certainty beyond all reason, she felt the air, the creature's movements.
Her body responded instinctively, propelled by an intensifying bloodlust that drowned out all thoughts, leaving only a singular and unwavering focus on a target she couldn't see but undeniably sensed. A powerful swing and a stroke of fortune severed the bosni's left arm, a moment of triumph overshadowed as it immediately retaliated with its right. Nova swiftly transferred her sword to her left hand, utilizing her newly liberated right to firmly grasp the bosni's remaining arm at its wrist. Claws hovered dangerously close to her neck, her aura ready to intervene.
"I think, no, I know you would look better without arms," Nova uttered, enhancing her upper body and tearing off its other arm with pure strength alone.
"What!?" Luis shouted, witnessing the dramatic turn of events. "No!" He leaped forward, already casting attack spells. How? Did he miscalculate? Sure, he just recently learned to summon this creature, so he hadn't had the chance to test, but was it this weak against a knight? In a one-on-one no less? Had he overestimated its capabilities? Or was she strong?
The bosni didn't give in, the pair stood in close enough proximity that it seized the opportunity to sink its teeth into her neck. The immense pressure exerted by its biting force was so overwhelming that she sensed it through her aura. It felt like a peculiar pressure, one she couldn't describe or explain, but it served its purpose, signaling an urgent need to pry it off soon or face the consequences. She reflexively responded with three punches to its head with her right hand, cracking its skull. Following that, she rammed her rapier upwards with her left, targeting the base of its head, the blade's tip protruding from above. Still, the bosni clung stubbornly, refusing to let go.
She sensed her aura on the verge of breaking, at its limit and riddled with cracks. Her coverage has been abused for long enough, now the only question was when. Reluctantly, she surrendered her sword, which remained firmly stuck in the creature's skull. Redirecting the remnants of her waning aura into strength, she desperately employed both arms to forcefully repel the creature's head away from her. Luis approached from behind, casting magic bolts, sword in one hand, and charging lightning in the other. His left hand crackled violently as he hastily built up energy. Luis attacked, bolts of magic struck her from behind as the beast's grip tightened.
The rupture came, Nova aura fractured and shattered just as she finally and barely managed to push the creature away, its sharp teeth grinding against her neck as it departed, tearing into her flesh. The bosni collapsed, sword still embedded, the last of its energy diminishing as Luis abruptly cut off its life support. Nova instinctively covered her bleeding neck just as lightning struck her from behind. With her aura gone, the lightning tore through her leather armor, striking her exposed skin. Nova crumpled to the ground, her body convulsing in response to the violent discharge as she desperately tried to stem the flow of blood.
Approaching with disappointment, Luis surveyed the aftermath. The lightning hadn't claimed her immediately. A miscalculation of his impatience, as he hadn't given the spell enough time to charge further. Perhaps this wasn't so bad. Now, she was practically a non-combatant. Killing her up close would surely satisfy his personal disdain for her. In that singular moment, Nova held his undivided attention, nothing else mattered.
Mentally checking her injuries, Nova acknowledged the fading psychological effects of the bosni, but that was no longer of importance. Her immediate concern lay with the bleeding wound. As she assessed the wound with her fingertips, she discovered the bleeding, though heavy, was less severe than expected. Mostly a flesh wound. She felt confident that her major arteries were intact. This was bearable, the Spider thought.
With a faint sigh of relief, she slowly sat up, her back stinging with the effort and her eyes landing on the feet that stopped just before her. Tightly clutching her neck with a determined left hand, she lifted her gaze to confront the piercing, blue eyes that bore into her with an unmistakable intensity of loathing.
"Anything left to say?" Luis grinned.
"Your voice... it annoys me," she rasped, slowly withdrawing her left hand from her neck. The wound now bled steadily, with nothing to stem its flow. Pointing her left index finger at him, her eyes spoke of continued defiance.
Luis glanced at her right arm, trembling violently, its strength drained to the point of immobility. He scrunched his face. "What are you trying to do?"
Her gaze shifted toward her sword, still embedded in a slowly vanishing magical corpse. Seeing no chance to retrieve it, she looked back at him, whispering to herself, "No medium... so my body will be the medium."
"What?" Luis said, puzzled and nearing the limits of his patience, moments away from digging his sword into her neck.
Her eyes hardened on him as her left forearm and hand began to glow. Nova offered him a faint, soft, sorrowful smile and parted her lips. "Flare!"
The aura within her instantaneously went wild, unleashing an explosion of blue sparks from her index finger that struck Luis point-blank. Luis hastily channeled all the mana he could muster, reinforcing his barrier while enveloping himself in additional layers of mana for added protection. The rapid sequence of events left him with no time to distance himself from her. The sparks cut through his barrier like paper, plunging the temperature around him to freezing. Bracing for impact, he abandoned all safety protocols, overloading himself with mana in a desperate attempt to resist the onslaught, risking mana poisoning. The sparks ate away at his intricate layers of protection, delivering a shock that sent him sliding against the grass, ultimately hurling him away with formidable force.
Meanwhile, Nova observed, her surroundings obscured by the mesmerizing dance of blue sparks that now dominated the space. Unconcerned about Luis, a taste of metallic reached her tongue, triggering violent coughs that expelled a mixture of blood and spit. Unchecked aura wreaked havoc inside her. By deviating from the prescribed steps of the 4th Orthodox Class, Flare, she had forsaken her safety, and now the consequences unfolded with brutal clarity. The skin on her left arm tore asunder, and then her left abdomen followed suit, with profuse bleeding streaming from the new wounds. Internal organs endured damage, hammered by her raging aura, veins and arteries pulsating as if on the verge of rupture. Breathing became a struggle, each wheeze a declaration to the toll exacted.
But there was a blessing in the dark. Flare's core feature involved a buildup stage, concentrating excessive amounts of aura into a small space before making it unstable. Nova, unable to adhere to this process, attacked immediately, sparing herself from more extensive injuries. Her body became the conduit for destruction, an unconventional employment of Flare that inflicted substantial damage. Had she adhered strictly to the process without her sword, the consequences could have been immediately fatal, her aura tearing her body apart on the spot.
She felt the connection to her reserves suddenly cut off. For an aura user, veins were the lifeline, dictating the rhythm on how aura flowed, how it was stored, and ultimately how it was used. Now, with it running rampant and her body in a compromised state, command over her aura slipped away, leaving her bereft of its once-familiar embrace. She clung to a fragile hope that the injuries wouldn’t irreversibly destroy her body, rendering her unable to wield aura ever again.
With its source severed, the Blood Spider receded into a dormant slumber, dragging the bloodlust with it. Leaving an eerie stillness in its wake.
Nova, in her various forms preceding the Blood Spider, gradually resurfaced. Awakening from her trance-like state, returning to a realm of conscious awareness. Memories flooded her in a fragmented manner, killing mages, body intrusion, a deer-like creature, and a man named Luis. Despite the vividness, none of these recollections felt like her own. Then, a tidal wave of pain crashed over her.
The last coherent memory painted a grim scene, a path strewn with lifeless bodies, Imperial infantry retreating in awe. Now, she found herself wheezing and bleeding, her frail form perched on the stained grass, battling to withstand the temptation to succumb beneath the burden of exhaustion. Self-loathing intertwined with physical agony as she grappled with memories that contradicted her essence. Acts she reviled, decisions she knew to avoid, and the pitiable circumstances she now found herself in, merged into despair. In this moment of weakness, her identity wavered, her body didn't feel like her own anymore.
Her vision blurred, the immeasurable weight of weariness settling even harder. Heavy eyelids, the tactile awareness of wetness adhering to her garments as liquid traced down her body. She felt trapped in her own vulnerability. What a pathetic way to die.
"Nova!" a familiar, comforting voice echoed through the chaos that was her mind, stirring within her an overwhelming urge to cry.
"Raid..." she cried weakly, her voice barely audible.
Two arms enveloped her, lifting Nova gently from the unforgiving ground, causing her to wince as one made contact with her exposed back. A comforting warmth accompanied the embrace as she willed her heavy eyelids open, her mind grappling with a dense fog.
"Raid?" she uttered feebly.
"Hold on! I'll get you to the medics; you'll be alright! They'll patch you up real quick, and then I'll take you to the doctors! Nova! Nova! Eyes open, stay with me!"
"Raid… I think... I messed up."
A storm of fire, bolts of lightning, and magical arrows rained down around him. Raid, consumed by his sole focus on Nova's condition, lost all awareness of his surroundings. Despite the ease with which he could evade the onslaught, fear gripped him, the prospect of any abrupt movement compounding her injuries. Raid shielded her with his own body, absorbing the assaults, relying on his aura's resilience, hoping that it would hold.
In a blaze of fury, Luis emerged unscathed. His contorted face, teetering on the brink of a roar. The two locked eyes, a silent exchange fraught with nothing but animosity. Luis, on the verge of launching another attack, and Raid, his muscles tensing in readiness, cradled Nova protectively in his arms. It was only then that Luis finally registered the unfolding scene behind Raid. Orbs of golden light cascaded upon the Imperial formation, unguarded by mages. Kin's knights, battered and worn, cleaved through the Imperial infantry. The Spearhead Strike Package emerged victorious, yet the triumph bore a heavy toll, many lay dead or crippled. Yet, those who endured and remained combat-ready pressed on, carving a breach through the Imperial lines.
Nova's role in eliminating a mage squad significantly aided Iris in her efforts to breach the defenses. This allowed Iris to concentrate her orbs on the gap formed in the absence of a sphere, unleashing her horror upon the vulnerable area. The scarcity of mages forced them to disperse, attempting to cover the gap. Nova's engagement with Luis, the mages leader, help weaken their coordination. This weakened mage presence enabled the strike package to concentrate solely on Imperial knights without much concern for the remaining mages, thereby tipping the precarious balance in their favor, albeit barely.
Raid slowly and firmly tightened his grip around Nova, his expression hardening with contempt. "Nova, bare with me."
1st Unorthodox Class of the Demon Step Art, Flood Lake. The once gentle breeze vanished abruptly, and the surrounding grass bent away from Raid, as if blown by an invisible force. A suffocating pressure gripped the surroundings, jolting Luis into an unpredicted unease, a palpable fear that crept through his senses. Raid witnessed a cluster of hooded figures advancing from Luis’s rear, with swords drawn and luminescent orb-like objects hovering around them.
"This fight is over," Raid declared, as composed as possible. "Lower your arms. Try and stop my leave I dare you, best not hope in fate to save you."
Luis tightened his grip on his sword, deep in contemplation and seething with emotion. After what seemed like an eternity within moments, a resigned calm settled upon him as he sheathed his sword. "Curse your kind... Go." The words carried a weight of bitter acceptance.
Raid turned around with a deliberate crawl, his gaze shrouded in suspicion, and silently departed. Luis observed his retreat, feeling the ebb of his resolve. His rational mind, now fully engaged, persuaded him that continuing the fight would prove futile. The cloaked mages finally reached him, approaching with concerned faces.
"Why are you all here?" Luis asked.
"The situation is spiraling. Your absence raised concern. What's our course of action? They're breaching our defenses."
“We're leaving. It's over, can't you see? Avoid further losses, prepare to depart. I'll personally face the brigadier general, shoulder the responsibility. We've failed. I've never seen nor heard mages perform so poorly, and I am partial to it.”
Luis slowly turned away and began walking off, preparing for his next fight. This time, not with the enemy but in front of an Imperial military judge.