Rana stood in the middle of the hall and raised her staff. She closed her eyes and imagined what was written in the old records. There was a time when the banner was known throughout the land, when the salute sparked a shout of defiance that shook the kingdom. That was why it was snuffed out in an instant, now nothing more than an ancient memory. Its fame was only a small moment in the annals of time, nothing but a blip in the kingdom’s history.
However, unlike most treacheries towards the kingdom, this one forced the king to take action. Whatever the last lord of Aodh had planned, whatever her machinations, they never saw the light of day. That was how swift the king’s judgment was. Yet because the king made a move, despite her actions being ultimately fruitless, Jasmine Aodh had a page in history.
The world moved on, the people could care less of a traitorous lord when there were monsters lurking around them. Not for the inquisitors. They remembered. It was a corruption they failed to detect, an infestation that slithered past their shields, and one that forced the king to endanger themselves.
The event was before Rana’s time and would’ve been out of her jurisdiction even if it were to happen during her tenure as an inquisitor. She could not tell whether or not she would be able to prevent the incident, but she did not want to consider that question. There was too little information to properly conduct an investigation, and it would be nothing more than an exercise of self gratification. What she did know, however, was the history of Aodh before their fall from grace.
Rana slammed her staff down, puncturing the dirt and into the roots buried deep beneath. She then dragged her weapon, connecting the invisible dots that represented the location of the trees. The ground paved way without resistance, the vines opened a path beneath the surface as if it knew what she was doing and allowed her to continue. She continued, each drag more resolute than the last. It was a pattern, a symbol of treachery and a war cry of the fallen. It was the banner of Jasmine Aodh.
Rana ignited the symbol she carved in the ground. The vines below flared to life as the energy within scorched along the path she carved. The fire began to rage, but it did not burn. The two caught in the middle were unharmed, yet the dirt, the grass, and vines faded into ash, as if feeding the fire in the middle. Soon, the room shimmered into a bright light.
Rana and Alpheia were no longer in the middle of a roomed walled off by vines. They were on a giant platform made from silver petals growing from lush vines. Surrounding them, trapping them in the arena, was the same wind wall that sectioned off the entire Dungeon from the outside. From the torrent of ashes, dying embers began swirling into the middle of the arena and into the silver flowers. The vines began to glow as energy flowed from the edges and into the cluster of ashes.
The dust cloud began to take shape, a form of a person, one of a woman. She stood three meters tall. Her elaborately designed silver robe lost its shine and swayed like dust in the wind. In her arm was a staff with a chipped crescent blade. She was barefooted, and as she strode forward, each step she took consumed the energy inside the flowers. The woman gazed down upon the intruders with an expressionless face, but it was not emotionless. They now stood before Jasmine Aodh, once proud leader of her territory, champion to her people, now nothing but a manifestation of her regret and anger. She was now a powerful monster that guarded the core.
Alpheia picked Rana up by the arm and lifted them both into the air as the swipe of the crescent blade came down. The petals scattered into ashes and ignited the air, exploding into fiery bits. The zombie magus then dropped onto the charred ground while the moon-kin dodged blades formed by cinders shot from the monster's open hand.
Rana maintained her footing on the charred ground and evaded the follow-up attack from the monster. She chose to not meet the staff head-on. When Jasmine Aodh was still alive, she was an ascended mage-class marked one with the Enchanter specialization. The Enchanter was focused on buffing allies with their wards. Jasmine was a commander that supported her soldiers from behind. She was not a three-meter tall hulking giant with brute strength that made even the strongest warriors powerless. However, none of that remained true when now she was a monster powered by all the negative emotions she unleashed during her final moments. If Rana were to meet the monster’s strength head-on, she would be crushed.
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The zombie-magus continued to lure the monster’s attention while the moon-kin assaulted the monster from behind. However, the explosions did not stagger the giant guardian, not even a flinch. Its attacks remained fierce and unrelenting. If this were a standard marked one battle, they would’ve had no chance. However, the monster only had Jasmine Aodh’s Skill and Spells, but none of her experience and intellect. It was a mindless beast that only knew how to unleash its rage indiscriminately.
Rana continued to utilize the trajectory indicators and her knowledge of Aodh combat to find the best approach when dealing with the enemy melee attacks. It was essential for an inquisitor to know of the tendencies behind their potential targets, and she also had to fortune of clashing with the soldiers of Aodh and the flaming ones from the past.
The two grounded combatants continued to dance on the charred ground, but the earth beneath them began to slowly heal as vines began to cross and connect with the non-burnt areas. When the guardian’s robe swept past the connected vines, buds of silver began to sprout and then blossomed into the same flowers that covered the entire arena.
Rana called out to Alpheia and the moon-kin ceased her attack and picked her companion up just as the blade began another flurry of attacks, cutting into multiple explosions. Alpheia then quickly launched a plume into the monster's face, blowing it a step back. They damaged it. That was the mechanism behind the arena.
Jasmine Aodh as an enchanter constructed her wards with flower petals. They contained her mana, and through wards was able to store them in it for prolonged periods of time. She would scatter them into the battlefield, using them as a medium to spread her aura buffs. It was said that her soldiers would be filled with energy as if a fire was lit within them. However, the kingdom never had the chance to witness their glory. Whatever they were capable of, when Jasmine Aodh unleashed her petals to face the king’s decree, all were burnt to ashes.
That was one truth behind the Tree of Ashen falls. Rana did not know why Jasmine Aodh still reached for the skies, that this yearning still lingered beyond her death, but she could now explain the function of the ash storms and the buffs the monsters received when in it. The ashes were the remnants of her petals, the same power that her soldiers relied on. The ashes carried her hatred, burning enemies with the Ash Burn damage, cursing them with the Ash Fall debuff. It also carried her will, the ones that her soldiers carried. That was also the reason why the monsters and traps were seemingly blind without the Ash Burn damage ticking on the intruders. It was their command. They held steady even in the face of certain death, and they would continue to do so until ordered otherwise.
In the arena, the floor was her guard, the flowers her source of power. When the monster walked on the vines, it consumed the energy within and empowered itself. When the monster sliced away the petals, they lost their connection to the core, what kept their form, and could do nothing but return to what had once destroyed them. That was the opening for Rana and Alpheia, when the monster left to charred grounds, when the monster stepped on land without flowers, it lost its source of power and can then be damaged.
Rana and Alpheia continued their strategy. Rana engaged the monster in melee, avoiding its attack on the charred ground as to not get damaged by the petals. When the guardian monster’s shield powered by the petals were low, she would then have Alpheia deliver an attack. This continued and soon cracks could be seen on the monster’s skin.
However, the battle has only just begun.
Like any Dungeon monster, the lower their health, the closer they are to death, so too would their approach change. No one knew why it was the case, but this was true for every monster bred by a core. The core was the source of a Dungeon, formed by hatred and regret. It was the crystallization of the final moments of whatever evil that became the Dungeon. It could be that, like anything, the fear of death was the biggest part of their demise. Then, it also became their greatest strength.
The guardian monster staggered back. Its skin shattered and ash leaked from within. With a scream, the monster shook the platform and awakened its primal fear and its final regret. Jasmine Aodh raised her hand, energy began circling up her arm and into her palm. The storm wall became silent. However, it was silent for only a moment.
Fire breathed from the ashes and began to rain down.