Chapter 58: Tempus Fulgur

A Chapter by Latifa Rahim

A final face-off between the Boltshifter and the Red One.

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uring the attack of the frost dragon, many lives who had themselves hidden inside the underground shelter, got murdered. The dragon's malice outcropped everyone with its cataclysmic breath, freezing things upon first touch, thus making them rendered lifeless. It's a life or death situation for Reita; she finally decided to take the dragon on despite knowing her chance of winning is slim. Her water attribute decree her attacks useless against the dragon who has ice on its side. At time's brink, Reita who almost fell to her demise got unforeseen help from three acquaintances who popped out from nowhere.

"Why is everyone here?!" her perplexed face invites some proud smirk from the men.

"Later." Brad answers first. "We have this big chunk to fry!"

Clutched within the man's palm is the hilt of his Lesser Signifer, Aspis.

Its eerie purple glow pulsate as he raise his sword.

"Phil." He says, "Get back with the greenhorn. New kid, you're with me."

Lemington shrugs his new 'nickname', unsheathing his weapon also-- a polearm.

"Roger!" Phil goes to his rear.

"Mr. Phil, you're not with them?" Reita ask, still with confused expression.

"I'll be their support for now!"

Grinning, Phil tightens his glove before letting out an opening yell. "Conflagration!"

His shout, sends a huge magic circle to his fore palm. The rubicund hue suggests it is a fire-elemental spell. It is indeed; seconds later a vast tier of flame brims off from the circle, aiming the dragon. Brad and Lemington charges, slashing their weapon with mettle.

"Venom Needle!" Brad yells, sending an upward slash using his glowing sword.

Collision happened minutes later, when Phil's fire magic hits the dragon's body approximately on timely manner with Brad's attack. Wobbling, the dragon then gives an opening for Lemington to do his part too. He roars, slicing a generous part of its cheek. Then, a counterattack follows. The dragon belts its tail to Lemington's side, sweeping him off the feet. He fell down to his back, exposing a hefty space of his torso for easy attack.

As the dragon concoct another icy breath, Phil quickly takes initiative to distract its

attention. "Stone Turret!" he shouts, quarrying soil into rising blocks with jagged tips.

His rock formation sped towards the dragon, shoving its jaw away from freezing

Lemington in absolute zero.

"Grnnnnn..." Everyone can hear the dragon's brewing anger.

"We're just warming up." Brad flashes a cocky grin, his very own signature.

"Hey, Phil, try harder, will ya?"

"I’m trying!" Phil replies. "You think it's easy to cast multiple spells in short time?"

"Hmph." Brad replies with only dissatisfied grumble. "Hey, new kid."

"It's Lemington... Farad Lem--"

"Shut your trap." Brad nicked his speech. "...Stay alert. We don't know what this beast

has on its sleeve."

Seems the dragon finally let everyone witness its last trump card. While letting out a malicious groan, it curls while seething an unknown force. Across, Reita feel some weird vibes brewing in the air.

"Everyone, be careful!" she tells her friends. "It's about to change into something!"

"Change? Heh, bring it on!" Brad chuckles arrogantly.

Little he knew, beneath those scales, the dragon starts to develop stronger armor in glistening dark clad. Caught off guard, Brad receives a sudden attack-- no one predicted this-- from the unraveled version of the dragon.

"Gwargh!!" Brad lands to his side, crouching. "Gragh! What was that?!"

He looks up, to the winged beast. Oddly, now it has grown significantly taller, and

bigger... Enforced in a black-suit armor which reek of nasty aura.

"...Unbelievable." Reita shook her head, sensing this familiar ambience.

"It's the Darkside!" she yells, surprising the three men.

"Darkside?! What are you talking about?" Lemington shrugs idly.

"It's... WATCH OUT!!"

Reita's warning was tad too late; Lemington have been whipped off also by the dragon's armored tail. Its whipping power now have enhanced due to spiky protector layering the whole tail part.

"Ughhrgh...!"

His body is caught by Phil. "Hey, you okay?!"

"I'm alright... But, what's happened with the dragon?"

Brad, standing alone face-to-face, surprisingly let out an amused laugh.

He remembered this recurring tension from a battle he might have won, if not for a

trade of limb. "Bring it on!" he roars happily. "I'll tear those ugly armor of yours!"

"Brad, don't be reckless!" Phil reminds him.

However, the man with prosthetic limb refuses to hear such advice. He leapt, charging

straight to the dragon's belly, swinging Aspis with ounce of strength. "Venom Needle!"

Huge noise from metal collision proves his attack was useless against the pristine

armor.

"You can't destroy the armor with normal attacks!" Reita shouts within her mind.

Beside her, Phil has conjured another spell to assist Brad. "Detonation!"

From his magic circle, raucous explosion distends with blinding speed. "Lemington!"

Called, the young man jumps away and charged also. "Heaaah!" his polearm's swing

seems enervated due to shock from the fall. It failed to reach even the tail's tip, which

got him attacked back with more chilly breath.

"Ack! B*****d!" Lemington curses his lower arm which now has congealed along with

his weapon.

With one enemy down, the dragon focused back to Brad. Its armor now shifts form, into a gel-like blue which then resonates to the owner's mettle. Surprised, Brad took few steps back involuntarily.

"Don't run away, Brad! Go hack 'im!" Phil says while launching more flame missiles.

"Damn it! Venom Needle!!" Bracing himself, Brad took a breath then rammed forward.

The dragon looks enjoying itself, humming coyote smile before letting out a devastating attack. The resonating armor suddenly solidifies into massive projection of ground zero, freezing everything within its attack radius.

"Brad!!!" Phil screams, seeing how the area across have turned into a field of snow

and iceberg. "Lemington!!" He noticed one of his ally, faltering, standing idly whilst

the ice storm aggregates. "Get away from there!"

But Lemington's body refuses to move, not because he had his hands frozen--

But because of tremendous fear looming inside his shriveling heart.

"Tch...!" Swiftly, Reita took the initiative by emulating a springy water barrier.

The ice storm is halted due to her barrier's flexibility, saving Lemington from expiring.

"What about Brad?!" Phil panicked, eyes scanning around for his friend.

"There!!" Reita points at one icy sculpture au fresco.

It is Brad, caught within the dragon's breath and now frozen still.

"My God! Brad, no!!" Phil slouches to the ground.

"Don't lose hope yet." Reita taps her shoulder. "Maybe if we defeat the dragon,

We can bring him back."

"We can't beat it…" Lemington shakes his head continuously. "It's way too strong!"

"Either we do, or die." Reita warns him. "I have an idea."

Afflicted, Phil argues on his mind whether to continue this perilous fight or not. But, seeing the situation at present, they have not been provided with escape route anyway, so further strive against this beast will be likely.

"...Let's hear them." he nods to her proposal.

"I'll try to draw out its armor."

"By draw out, what do you mean?"

Pausing, Reita took a small glance to both men. "My affinity is the same as it: Water.

Just now, before it attacks with freeze field move, the armor bulges out momentarily

and changed shape into a watery substance."

"I saw that too!" Lemington nods. "What will you do, then?"

"Hopefully," she replies, "...I can bend the entire armor off, then coax it to my

command. I need you both for distracting it."

"Sounds easy." Lemington shrugs. "Are we ready, then, Mr. Phil?"

"On your mark, Reita! I'm ready whenever you are."

"Let's go!" Reita sends her signal.

Backing away some distances from her place, Reita shuts her eyes and began to focus. Meanwhile, Phil and Lemington are in charge of disrupting the dragon from spotting through their plan.

"Get him away from Brad!" Phil says,

"We don't want the old man becomes shaved ice!"

Lemington nods, poking the pointed part of his polearm to the dragon. "Heyah!"

The dragon let out a shocked grunt, then turns around to counter his attack. Few ice spheres shoots from its mouth, aiming straight to Lemington's body. Even so, the man who manages to break down his ice prison won't be tricked twice that easily, using the same ploy.

"Stone Turret!" Hovering around Phil's magic circle are more crux of stones mold into

menacing spear head with spiraling end.

The dragon quickly dissipates them before they hit, using its tail. Soon, its signature moves begins to show once again. The dragon uplifts its armor which then turns into a watery substance, pulsating along with its beat.

This is it. Reita nods to herself. Her focus have gone deep below conscious level, stretching far to other plane of altered state. In here, she tries to converse with Varuna. Touching the sea-bearing dagger makes her feel as if the water seeps through her pores, traveling way up within the blood vessel. Reita beseech this regal spirit of seven seas to bestow her the art of purging ominous elemental into her kind.

She's already below subconscious level now, mind going deeper into the teeming darkness. At the sea of her neural drive, Reita saw a turquoise light in a shape of tiny homunculus. This odd fellow nods to her request, saying she shouldn't be worried and just 'go with the flow'. Outside, at the battle field, Phil constantly calls her.

"Hey, Reita! Is it not yet?!" but she didn't answer.

Worried they may not be in time, Phil jumps back and prepare for a vicious attack.

Just in time, an ethereal voice replies his doubtful wit.

"Human child..." So it calls.

Shocked, Phil went to see that it came from Reita-- whose body now eerily floats mid-

air, hands stretched to front. "Stay back. I'll take care of this."

Both men felt a similar titillating charm coaxing for them to trust Reita. So they did, and gave her the needed space. Hands raised, Reita mumbles a foreign spell. Her eyes glows bright blue, similar to when she conversed with Vayu, borrowing Jadel as his vessel.

Soon enough, all the water succumbs to her command. Even those embedded in the dragon's armor; they starts pouring down like late night drizzle. The beast quickly restrain it before they're all sap out, to no avail.

Right now, every droplet of water present inside the underground shelter conforms to Reita's finger movement. She makes a small circle in the air, when suddenly a vortex appear from it. Sucking all the water dry, it became her own ginormous sphere of water.

With one verdict, she spent her final words.

"By my hands which drench Gaia with unbroken rain, I hereby exile you to the lands

of condemn. Begone, creature of evil. Rainstorm!"

To everyone's shock, thunder and dark clouds starts thawing the rustic shelter from

above. Just when they're about to piss themselves, Reita speaks again.

"Human child... It's your turn now.

Expel the evil, and see this fight through boundless hope of yours."

With that, the odd voice disappears, so does the eerie glow from Reita's body. Phil and Lemington won't surely miss this chance; they quickly scatters to the dragon's side to deliver a penalty blow. Phil put his palm on the dragon's neck, casting his earlier spell 'Detonation'. As the flame missile explodes, Lemington jumps to hack the head away with his own move. One lamentful cry from the severed head, along with big 'THUD' from the fallen body confirms the ice dragon is no more.

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The war which engulfs Myriad in sea of enmity, now, has been going on for hours. From the beginning, it was Ölver's insistence of keeping the Green Sphaera inside his wall, which later induces Skydas' appearance. This mysterious man's objective, of course, is the emerald orb-- no less. Myriad and its people are no concern of his; this was what Ölver don't know. Whether he surrendered the orb or not, Skydas has resolved to rally HOUNDS army to annihilate anything over their sights.

Subsequently after defeating the ice dragon, Brad and Phil said they are going to help the front line. Trusting Reita and Flint's safety to Lemington, they departed quickly as the war cry echoes only voices of the darkness and ogres.

Grisly shades looms over the clouds in battlefield's front line. Having defeated the Horned Cyclops, Thomas and Iegor were stormed by another wave of rune knights. To their aid Blautiel, his troop along with Ariad came. Blautiel mandate himself as the one who would slay the rune knights' commander, to decrease their moral and-- hence, enlarging their probability of triumph.

Thomas now has bruises and open cut around his body. This young man have fought more than three dozens of HOUNDS rune knights all by himself. His young age and small build tricked the enemy of thinking he's an easy prey. In fact, that stature actually helped him evading attacks and getting around enemy's defense.

Across, Iegor whose hands are tied busy, calls out. "Hey, shrimpy!" he blocks an

incoming attack using the basket hilt around his sword's hilt.

"I'm not shrimpy!" Thomas replies, hands tied busy also with an ogre-type enemy.

"Don't fall! We still have work to do!"

"I know." Few poised steps 'round, Thomas slips to the ogre's back and deliver a fatal

stab to its left shoulder. The gashing sound and spurt of mud-green blood have

solidifies Thomas' victory. Wiping his weary forehead, he speaks.

"The commander isn't back yet." There's a slight apprehension between his thick

brows. With his brother gone to liberate another areas which have been stormed by

HOUNDS soldier, Thomas worried things won't go on his favor.

"I won't worry too much." Iegor detangles his side fringe, after a boastful victory.

"He's way above our levels, and of course above from those HOUNDS."

Beyond Myriad's gate, within the vast field of green which has turned ash brown. We see hordes of HOUNDS troop scattered around their standing places, already lifeless. Most have been beheaded, others have this brutal wound hole on their abdomen, only possible from high-tier magic spell. The stone-lodgers who were giant and ogres have been utterly defeated also, in similar manner.

We see, in the distance, a small flock of seven men rally their horses towards the last line of HOUNDS army. This is Blautiel's squad who have been ordered to accompany him defeating the enemy's commander. What he refers are Skydas and Damhorn, still on their prime, standing at the front line.

Even from his untidied hair, Damhorn can feel the scent of a strong opponent nearby.

Letting out an amused chuckle, he tempts Skydas' curiosity.

"Seems a big rat's comin'.” With his putrid mouth, Skydas comments eagerly.

"Yes, M'lord. That's a Purebred, no doubt." Damhorn giggles fervently, like a toddler

unwrapping a gift box.

"I'll make sure to watch the moment you gouge his eyeballs out." Skydas says,

"Bring me back his head."

"With pleasure, Sire."

Damhorn retrieve his helmet, then put it on while holding off his excited giggle. His Bolt Trident stays by his rear as he knocked the horse to run. Finally, I can chop some heads! His mind races, feeling the rush of adrenalines. From afar, his dilated pupil saw Blautiel's white horse pacing faster. Under its rider's palm, a heavy lance with thick, converging end tucked firmly. Another long-range attacker, I must've been dreaming! Damhorn spelt his thought joyfully. I'll just shake that lance off his hand and tear his head using it!

With Blautiel charges boldly to his attack range, Damhorn makes an opening attack. One swing from his trident expels some thunder orbs which discharges right to their target. Blautiel's expression remains calm, he has expected this. He swipe invisible runic using his gloved fingers, then shouts.

"Barrier!" Warm lucent light envelopes his and the horse's bodies, shielding them from

Damhorn's lightning.

"Tch, so you wanna play rough? Fine by me!" Damhorn steers his horse around, then

charges. "Haaaaa!"

Stabbing his trident straight to the barrier's wall, he's trying to ram it by raw force.

Inside the barrier, Blautiel smiles proudly. "You are such jest. Surely you don't expect

breaking my barrier using that petty weapon of yours...?"

Damhorn replies with another grin. "That's my line, pale witch! You haven't seen this!"

His aura changes suddenly. Heap of vigor brims from his body, imbued in yellowish

gleam. "Haaaaaa!!" Damhorn charges again. “Break!!”

This time, by slight touch from his tip only, the barrier seared. "What the...?"

Shocked, Blautiel quickly takes hold of his horse rein. The horse neigh in surprised

pitch, legs tilted upwards, frightened.

"Take this as your first course, fey!" Another jab from Damhorn's trident.

"Bolt Charge!!"

Boom of thunder jots off, hitting the poor horse's belly which is without protection. The shock wave sent it flying back, away with its master still sitting on its back. A loud crash soon follows with several worried shouts from Blautiel's men.

"Commander!" One of them didn't wait long to deliver a revenge punch.

By his sign, his horse leaps to Damhorn's direction.

"Take this!!" his spear's tip is about to hit Damhorn's head, when the counterattack

follows. Blighting zap of lightning scurries from the ones which hit Blautiel's horse.

The soldier and his horse were burnt alive, on their flesh, by the frightful bolt.

"Well, well!" Damhorn's amused sigh follow after a bored shrug. "What a shame.

Not even a fey could harm me? Hmm?" his smug smirk looks even more from lower

height. "I'm looking forward to gouge your boss' eyes with my weapon here...

But first, let me enjoy myself with your funeral!"

All of sudden, before Damhorn is able to roast the entire squad, there's an abrupt intervention. Flash of white light slams his horse, quite fatal that it bore giant hole to its side torso. Late with jumping down, Damhorn is taken to a rolling crash along with fresh corpse of his stallion. From where the light originate, Blautiel's figure is seen. He arose without any visible injury, holding his palm out to fire some more missile.

"Fax Lucre." he says. "Differing from its counterpart 'Lex Lucre', this spell possess a

greater destruction upon its evocation." Blautiel's comeback delights his team.

"Commander! You are alright!"

"Of course. Now, we are even." He says, bluffing to the fallen Damhorn, still crumpled

on the ground. Though his body seems fine, he just rolls to sides without the intention

of getting up.

"What a shame." Blautiel copies his tone. "...I'll give you a painless death now."

Lance risen, Blautiel prepares to deliver a finishing blow, when suddenly a deafening crash-noise strikes behind. Startled, Blautiel jumps away, abandoning his sole chance finishing the enemy.

"What... What is that just now?!" he checked to his team, but found none.

Only sizzling gas fuming up the air from what seemed to be... burned corpse.

"By the Gods above..." he mutters.

“He... Khehehehe..." a sickening laugh loosen from Damhorn's crumpling body.

"You damned...!" Blautiel charges blindly, but his enemy has hidden trick up his sleeve.

With a single touch to his spear's tip, Damhorn delivered a jolt wave like the last time

he did. Interwoven bolt veins crept quickly to Blautiel's metal glove, before zapping

him in massive voltage.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!" Damhorn's laugh got louder and worse, tune-wise.

"Punks! How dare you... Kicking me off from my horse!"

Nimbly, he jumps to Blautiel, fallen to his back, landing several kicks.

"Huh?! How dare you! You kick me out just now, huh?! Huh?!!" endless salvo of feet

stomps rain down to Blautiel's body. Due to power enhancement earlier, mere kicks

of his now able to crush even the strongest metal.

Bent mark and cracks starts forming on Blautiel's armor, sending inner bleeding down

his skin.

"You punks shouldn't defy me, really!" he goes on.

Thrilled, he took his trident and swung it violently.

"Urgh!!" Blautiel cries in pain as those three prongs implanted themselves to his

stomach. Warm blood starts running, along with his opponent's pervious laugh.

"Ahahahahaha! Now you see?! This is what you get from defying me! You shouldn't,

really! You know, right?!"

Just as Blautiel is about to cast another of his 'Fax Lucre', Damhorn spotted this. Furious, he twisted his trident whose prongs are still inside Blautiel. The pointy-eared man grunts deeper as his bowel leaks blood, giving such unbearable pain.

Even with such horrid scene, Damhorn keep laughing. His fervent cackle is no more of amused manner-- he's ecstatic seeing his enemy hollered to crisp death, another writhing in pain underneath him.

"Ha! Cry, cry! Cry all you want!" he screeches. "Blame your country, blame your Pope!

Wasn't he the one who made you like this? Wasn't he the one who officially sent you

to death? Hyahahahaha!!"

"Urgh... Never..." Blautiel mumbles. "Never... Look down... on us... Seraphim army!"

Mustering up his strength, Blautiel grips Damhorn's trident and sent his spell up from

it. "Fax Lucre...!" Sadly, his move was too discernable.

Damhorn quickly cancels it by casting a spell. "Bolt Charge!!"

Merciless as his laugh, Damhorn sent plasma orbs to Blautiel's innards, causing a huge

shock within his nerve. His body reverberates awfully due to sudden disturbance in

impulse flow. "Hyahahahahaha!!" The fascinated Damhorn delightfully witnessed this,

with eyes almost going white. His ecstasy seems to have peaked to its summit that

he's feeling a similar sensation to when one's having orgasmic reaction.

"Hahaha! Ughh... Haaa... Hnggghh!" gritting his teeth in pleasure, Damhorn keeps

sending merciless blow to Blautiel.

Suddenly, though, one of Blautiel's survived teammate gave the creepy man a taste of his spike harpoon. The spear hits just before Damhorn's eyes, causing a great disturbance which he has to avoid by pulling out. Freed from the trident, Blautiel quickly heal himself using immediate spell.

"Tervistuma!" he shouts the second-highest healing spell.

Checking his man, Blautiel’s hand gleams brightly in backdrop of noon. The one launching his harpoon doesn’t look well after minutes spent to heal his injury. Apparently, he have used up all of his leftover strength to create brief chance for him to turn the tide.

"Hey! Hang in there!" Blautiel went quickly to the man, trying to heal his wound.

Though, deep inside he knew, there's no chance for this half-burnt lump of muscle

even if he exert all of his recovery magic.

Com... Commander..." the weakening man tried to speak. "Please... Take my horse..."

He says, "Then... Go... Defeat the real commander... This mongrel isn't... the one..."

"I know." Blautiel nods firmly. "I shall see to the end that your sacrifice isn't in vain."

"Th... ank... you... Com... mander..." the man gapes for few breath before finally

closing his eyes forever.

Though saddened that his entire group has been defeated, Blautiel has to go on. His eye's corner caught a glimpse of the mentioned horse, seemingly safe and spared from Damhorn's inhuman rampage. He then took this momentary disturbance to leap onto it, escaping the battlefield, further upwards. His main target isn't Damhorn, but Skydas, the leading figure of HOUNDS army. He should hurry before time runs out from his already trickling vigor.

Pacing the horse with haste, Blautiel races against his own time towards the HOUNDS' last line. Across, he already saw Skydas in his glistening all-black armor, grinning in anticipation.

"HOUNDS! Begone from this land!!" he roars while preparing a furtive spell.

Unbeknownst to him, from behind, Damhorn's trident flung past the still air with

blinding speed. Then, a voice echoes.

"Thunder Call!"

With his rear side exposed, Blautiel has no time to evade the attack. From greater

altitude, we see his figure slumps off the horse with flickering purple bolt immerse his

everything.

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Down at the underground shelter, Lemington sits with Reita after she finally regained back herself. Flint, who have gone hiding ever since the battle starts, came out unexpectedly along with several other survivors. They have scattered themselves further inside the creviced shelter, so the ice dragon couldn't even trace their scent.

Drip of water slowly gravitate downwards into the cold ground. They are the remnants of Reita's extensive spell used earlier to slay the dragon. Along with those rattling trickle, sounds of mourning and lamentation seethe from within the survivor's lips. Though left unspoken, the horror of seeing their relatives massacred horribly by a single creature is unsettling. Among their ranks, curse and prayers to the current Gods are uttered in perturbing manner.

"This is horrible." says Flint, legs crossed, burying his tiny face inside.

"Everyone's dead... Why this is happening?"

"Flint..." Reita stays closer to him. The boy sobs as she wrapped her arm around his

shoulders. "Bad day, isn't it..." she mutters.

“If only this is a dream we can easily wake up from..."

Flint offers nothing but sustained weep from within.

"Flint, listen." she says, reaching for the boy's arm to make him show his face.

"You're not alone here. There are still everybody else, right? Look around, look

around." Her joyous nod suggests Flint to cast his eyes to his surroundings.

In return, he got affirming nods and warm smiles from everyone.

"I am... not alone?"

"No, you're not." Reita assures him. "But, I'm sorry-- I need to go now."

"Where to? Don't say you're going up!"

"I am." Reita gave a complicated smile. "My friends are all scattered around this city.

I have to help them-- at any cost."

Then, she turns to Lemington. "Farad, can I ask you a favor?"

"Anything." he replies with solemn look.

"Thanks. Please stay here with everyone, make sure you all hide where the enemy

won't find you."

"What? But...!" Disagreeing expression suddenly wash Lemington's face.

"...I thought you're gonna ask me to go with you, to help your friends!"

"That was my intention originally, but..." Reita gave a long sigh. "...These people need

at least one person to protect them, just for worst what-if scenario."

"Then what about you?! Are you just gonna march outside blatantly??"

"I have prepared." she looks at him bitterly. "Okay, Flint, everyone... Take care.

Farad, don't die on me." her smiles sends waft of acrimony.

"...Let's go eat together when thing's settles down."

Wordless seeing her decision, everybody stood idly while seeing Reita's figure cast bigger shadow on the ground, embalmed in afternoon glow. Then, just before she climbs some rubbles to reach the exit, Flint shouted.

"HEY!!!" Shocked, the red-haired girl almost slips off from her landing.

"What?! You surprised me!" she protested.

"Take this lame guy with you!"

"What the heck did you just say?! Lame?!" the mentioned person lands his own

protest too.

"No need to babysit us, we're not as helpless as you think." Flint smiles slyly.

"Go with her, old man. She might need your help."

"Old man?! Kids these days...!" Arms crossed, Lemington is about to throw fit to him,

when Reita shouts from across.

"Farad, take care of them for me!"

"Wait! Hey, Reita! Wait!" he calls her back.

"Doh! What is it again?!"

"Really, we're fine here." one female refugee lifts her voice.

"You should go with the young lady, Sir Knight. We can take care of ourselves."

Standing close to her, a man spoke. "I can do a bit self-defense. So does the other men

here." he points several male refugees, looks healthy and without the plague.

"Really... That's a bit relief." Lemington nods. He's now convinced of Flint's suggestion

to go outside. "You're really okay with this, kid?"

"I am!" Flint nods profusely. "Don't die, 'kay? You too!" he waves towards Reita.

"What say you, Reita? You need a helping hand?"

"Indeed I am!" she let out a meek smile. "Well, come on, then!"

Paving their way upon mounds of rubbles, Reita and Lemington finally see daylight once more. It is afternoon now; the sky glows vividly in blush orange and streak of deep mauve. The wind have paced, a bland sign of letting people know soon darkness shall descend.

Usually at this time of day, the scenery would give warmth and subtle joy to people's heart. Yet, seeing how unfavorable the situation at hand, those prospect of optimism seems to have vapored into thin air. Looking straight ahead, we can see batch of soulless corpse deprived of innards. Seems it was the work of demonic creature who eats human flesh, or perhaps another humanlike form who loves seeing others writhe in pain.

Walking ahead of the red-haired girl, Lemington worried Reita would collapse from seeing this absurd scene. On the contrary, she looks content walking among it... saves for her sojourned wrath for the perpetrator, showing clear as day on her face.

"Whoever did this..." she mutters, "...probably not human."

Moments later, Reita and Lemington arrives at one secluded area near the northwestern district. This withdrawn place is shielded by translucent pink wall evoked by some Ophanim devotee standing before it.

"That must be the safe area." Lemington says.

"Is it where the soldiers are treated?" Reita asks, trying to perceive what's beyond.

"Yes, it seems so. Let's go ask them." Carefully, Lemington steps forward. He then

greets the devotee. "Excuse me. Is this a safe area for the army?"

"Who are you?" Instead of them, a wounded soldier walks gallantly, though he is using

a crutch on both arms.

"We are your allies." Lemington assures him with firm nod.

"We've come from the shelter."

"The... shelter?! What... That's impossible!" the man shudders. "There was... a giant

dragon... attacking us. It has gleaming blue scales and it--" he stutters,

"...It breathes coldest freeze."

"Oh, that." Reita bolster a nod. "We've taken care of it."

"Taken care, by that, you mean..."

"We've defeated it." Lemington says. "That's..." the soldier paces back awkwardly,

then shouts out of the blue.”...Hey, everyone! Come here! Someone finally beat that

winged b*****d!!"

From his back, the entire faction broke into hailing praise. "Bring the brave men in!"

"Let us congratulate them!"

"I wanna say thanks, too!"

Just as the soldier with crutch about to tell the devotee to lower the barrier, suddenly his visions widen in terror. Mouth gasping for air, he points at something... close by Reita and Lemington's sides.

"W- W- Watch out!!" his scream sounds lifeless.

Quickly, Reita initiated her barrier. An incoming attack! Lemington quickly take his

position in front of her, saying "Thunderstorm?! Without rain?!"

Then got chewed out. "Hey, don't get in my line of sight!"

Reita's eyes frown in utmost dismay hearing his response. There can't be thunderstorm in this dry afternoon. She knows only one enemy capable of casting numerous bolts effortlessly. There's one more thing she need in order to justify her guess. Then, there's the typical laughter. It ticks off her nerve straight away.

"DAMHORN!!!" she growls loud.

"Eh, who? You know that weirdo?" Lemington asks, pointing to a solitary individual

pacing forth their direction.

This man wears no helmet, though his body is clothed properly in eccentric armories. Capped above the man's mythril shirt are three-pieces-chestplate which has peculiar emboss on top. Lemington staggers, remembering the only group who wore such design.

"Move." Reita growls. She's feeling her blood boils.

"Reita...?" The man beside her is feeling also her brewing wrath.

"Move, I said. He's my target." The red-haired girl shoves Lemington aside, stepping

boldly to meet her enemy's eyes.

"I guess a roach's life outstands a cat, huh?" she mocks.

"Why is she mocking the enemy?! Don't she know this is a HOUNDS we're talking

about?!" Lemington starts to worry, bullets of sweat raining off his headplate.

"Hey, Reita... I think we shouldn't push our luck here..." says he, whispering to

Reita's back.

"Don't worry." she assures without looking back. "I've won twice against him. This time,

I'll carve his grave for sure!"

"Getting cocky, aren't we?!" Damhorn’s' voice echoes.

"Bolt Charge!" he dispelled several dozens of plasma orb. Swiftly, Reita lob them away

before they came in contact with her barrier.

"That's my line, b*****d! Why the heck are you here? Haven't you had enough of--"

"SHUT UP...!" Damhorn cuts her off. "He... Hehehehe... What do ya know, Miss Punk...

Fate really brought us together again!" Reita remains silent.

"You know, Miss Punk, I've always been dreaming of you every night!" he giggles.

"Dreaming of the day when I can slice every ounce of your meat open while you're

conscious! Hyahahahahahaha!!"

"Psycho." Lemington comments. "I won't let you do that to her!"

"Scoot off, pesky rat. You're no match of my power." Damhorn grunts, having his

speech disrupted. "Well, without further ado! Shall we, Miss Punk?"

"You're dead, Damhorn. Go to hell and repent your sins." Reita takes a stance,

Varunastra ready on both hands. "Farad, step back."

"You're gonna take him alone? That's reckless!"

"It's just as he said, sorry." she shook her head. "Your power is no match.

He's dangerous... Oh yeah, better get inside the barrier. His lightning can spread like

spider-webs."

With that settled, Lemington is forced to go inside the safe area while Reita faces Damhorn all by herself. This is the man who first witnessed her repulsive power of time-bending. This is the man, too, who probably caused her being a prime target of the HOUNDS now. Her resolve is firmed: she has to take him down, now or never.

Both combatants’ stands before each other, breeze of dust carries over scent of death to their eager feet. Damhorn acts quickly, creating his first opening attack. Pointing his trident like a witch's wand, he casts off.

"Bolt Charge!"

In a nib of seconds, Reita launches her defense drift.

"Raise, water barrier! Varunastra!"

With that, her whole body is engulfed within a secure fizzy bubble. The plasma orbs tries to carve their way into the barrier, but the flexing movement of effervescent layer depose them off easily. With that gone, Reita let not a chance slip by casting an expository spell.

"Vortex Blow!"

Small vortex appears, sending frothy bubbles which explodes upon contact with target.

Damhorn expelled them with his pronged weapon. "Got nothing beside this?

I'm bored with your trifling skills!" he snickered.

Insulted, Reita's eye twitched. She draws a long breath, before changing her stance. Left foot striding the ashy ground, left hand stretched out, and palm’s open. With careful stroke, she pulls a handful of concentrated energy as her breathing paces up.

"What're you up to, Miss Punk?" Damhorn fiddles with his face scars. "Hey...

I'm asking YOU!!" another serving of bolts were emitted from his dwindling rage.

"Damhorn... Ever heard of the sea crying?"

"What nonsense are you babbling now? Get ready to burn to crisp...!" he laughs as

the stalwart thunder inches to her side. Left palm lifted up, Reita calls forth stream of

water from her blade.

"Haaaa....!" she inhales, before calling out. "Dragonbender!!"

The summoned beast emanates from Reita's hand, about quarter the size of

full-fledged dragon.

"Easy-peasy!" Damhorn let a smug smirk before hustling his own spell. "Thunder Call!"

Effortlessly, his roaring thunder incise Reita's summon into torn wedges. Even so, her

posture remains still.

"Haaaaaaaaa!!" her bellowing voice boosts the dragon's power, thus reinforced

its figure after got shredded by Damhorn's spell. The ultramarine-hued beast sprints

on, ragged teeth set loose to its target.

"Im- Impossible!" On reflex, Damhorn covers his face as the dragon engulfs him into a

sea spasm.

Seeing her opponent has his guard unfastened, Reita dashed. Holding both daggers as dual weapon, she lands several arching strike to him. Rush of adrenaline bolster her flurry. She spins to side, kicking her target to his side. Whack! He staggered behind, but she won't stop. Aptly, she alters between each hand to give her target a well-deserved clean cut. Damhorn wince in pain as he tries to rebalance himself.

After several whines and nasty curses, gradually, he found his balance returned. Damhorn now stands back to his two feet, ready for counterattack. He tilts his blunt end of trident, hampering Reita's continuous rampage. The girl jumps back to avoid getting hit, then Damhorn poke her defenseless belly with mustered strength.

"Augh!" Reita cries as she omits gas and some secretory mucus from her throat.

"Got you!" Damhorn follows her pattern of attack, giving her another blow.

This time, using the pointy end. Reita evades just in time. Her neck is spared, only a

splotch of hair was cut in the process. "Ha! Bolt Charge!"

Sending off dozens of electro spasm, Damhorn got her this time. Reita is thrown off,

landing flat on her back. Beyond the barrier, she heard Lemington cheers for her name.

"Urgh... Damn!" Luckily, her tenacity helps her to get back on feet quickly.

Just about time she cast a revenge bow, Damhorn manages to close off his distance

with Reita. A loud 'thwack' sound scatters as he knock Reita on her lower chin, sending

her flies back to the gritty sand.

"Bolt... Charge!!"

Stunned, Reita didn't even have the chance to evade. She took Damhorn's attack as it is, letting her nerve system wrecked by thousands of volts chilling her spine. Damhorn let out an amused laugh seeing Reita's body having a seizure from his attack.

"Dance, dance to my thunder! Feel your pain!" he says.

Again, from beyond the barrier, we see Lemington's face trying to call Reita's name, cheering her on. This time, though, his face went blue pale and his mouth curved in angry pint against Damhorn.

"B*****d!!" he says, "Reita, stand up! Stand up!"

Reita herself, laid on the ground, writhed weakly. She receives quite the scale, now that Damhorn has enhanced his strength. Her body crumples, like an outworn ragcloth. Obstinately trying to lift her heads several times, she fell right off the bat.

"Ugh... Damhorn... You..." her cloying breath curses the man standing proud before

her.

"Miss Punk, I'm saddened that our meeting will end here, soon." he falsifies a

mourning tear. "Fare the well, Miss Punk! Heehehehehee!"

Raising his trident, Damhorn cast his finishing move. Curt seconds before his bolt hits Reita into burnt dough, a collision happens unexpectedly. His bolts disappeared, upon hitting a disk-shaped object. From behind the mighty flash, he heard a voice mocks him.

"Unfortunately for you, the meeting still has to go on!" the figure stands proudly,

turning its head to Reita. "Don't worry. I'll take it from here."

------------------------------------------------------

We step back few hours ago, when Reita got an unexpected help from three acquaintances. Brad, Phil and Lemington suddenly flags down out of nowhere, just before the frost dragon about to masticate her into ground meat. Their abrupt incoming then, became a huge help for her. Having friends on her side, Reita's resolve firmed. She calls upon her innermost power, thus defeated the winged beast. After the fight, Brad and Phil asked Lemington to stay by her side while they go to help Thomas and his squad.

"Sixty-seven!" Iegor sends a scrupulous yell to Thomas, still fighting beside him.

"How are you doing, shrimpy?"

"Like I said!" Thomas frowns while slicing his opponent, "I have a name, and it's

certainly not 'shrimpy’!"

With last seen enemies have been slain, Thomas and Iegor puff off relieved sighs. Both men have been injured, though not fatal, but terribly fatigued. Iegor, having had arduous training and advantages of being a Halfling, suddenly stumbled upon his knee.

"Mr. Iegor!" Thomas gets to him, his Brandeis blue orb glints concerned glance.

"You okay?" Thomas took out one vial of ointment and hand it over. "Here, use mine."

"No... need." Iegor's breath seems crooked for obvious reason.

"Huff… Arstima!" Forcing himself to use recovery spell grants only a mingle of light

emanating from his palm.

"Don't force yourself! Here-- I'll treat your wound." The young man insisted.

While uncapping the bottle's neck, he asks one rhetorical question. "Mr. Iegor...

Are we... Okay? I'm worried we won't gain an upper hand of this war.

Just look at the casualties..." Iegor nods, from his wobbling head it is clear he paid

more attention recovering his own focus.

"It's best to not have such mentality." he replies. "The Gods are with us.

His Holiness have spoken."

"You... trust him...?"

Thomas frowns, remembering his encounter with the man entitled 'His Holiness' babbling ostentatious rants about how he plead asylum for this monstrosity coming from his own persistence.

"We don't have much to go on," Iegor says, "...Than to trust him."

His commend create more tension in the air that Thomas didn't dare to speak through.

Both fell to impeding silence for a while, before Iegor starts another conversation.

"...So, you're the son of that Reuna Hábil?"

"Yes, I am." Thomas replies, now has his chin resting on the knee.

"...Legally?"

"Of course! What were you thinking?!"

Iegor scratches his side hair awkwardly. "...My bad, I was just not convinced. I mean..."

He paused. "...I haven't heard anything about Sir Hábil got married."

"Her wife-- My mum was separated from him, then my step-father found her.

Afterwards, we started living together."

"...Along with that brother of yours." Iegor replies.

"...Yes. To be honest... There are still things I'm confused of. I don't understand what

does living as a 'Halfling' is like. I don't even understand why I was born as one..."

Iegor pledged silence for a while, then said "...This year, I'll be 96."

"...How many human years is that?" Asked Thomas, seemingly not surprised hearing

the amount of age years Iegor have passed.

"I'd say around twenty or twenty-one."

"Then... You're even younger than the rest of my group..."

"That makes you even younger, shrimpy." Iegor smacks the young man's head lightly.

Thomas' urge to correct him abruptly disappear as he saw Iegor laughs openly. His usual strained expression liquefies along with the melting joy. Unbeknownst to them, there's one HOUNDS summoner survived the raid. She's already on her brink of time, though, and using every last ounce of her mettle to evoke a deadly spell.

Without realizing, a trail of dark hex emanates from the ground, creeping close to where Thomas and Iegor sat. Then, a bulging roar echoes-- a Shadowbeast, already flaunting its menacing teeth. Thomas didn't have the time to dodge, so does Iegor. Both men's eyes widens in shock in that flash of second.

Out of the blue, a sword was flung, passing a clean posh through the Shadowbeast. The darkness creature squirms high-pitched before returns to dust. Without ado, the sword's owner took another swing, this time decapitating the summoner's head effectively.

"Lame. Letting the enemy sneak past your defense, just like that." the owner's gruff

tone surprised Thomas.

"M- Mr. Brad...?" The young man jots up with confused look. "Mr. Phil, too?!

Why are you here...? How?"

"Later, boy." Brad waves to him. "You... Soldier. Can you stand up?"

Iegor nods firmly, proving he's okay by standing buff.

"Good. Looks like we've got another guests coming. Phil, to position!"

Thomas then realized that he was careless all along. Further out from the gate, he saw

remotely, a group of stallion-riding HOUNDS are closing in. "That's the commander,

I'd wager." Feeling the adrenaline pump, Brad grins widely.

"Don't be reckless, Brad! You've just came out off an ice cage!" Phil reminds him.

As the squad approaching, Iegor sighted a perturbing view. The squad's commander holds something in his hand... A bundle of hair strand. He recognizes the color soon, then broke into a hysteric scream.

"COMMANDER!!"

"Mr. Iegor, what happened?" Thomas jumps alerted; but before anything, Iegor have

dashed outside in mad rage.

"Drat, that soldier! Phil, stop him!" Brad says.

Too late, before Phil could cast his hindering spell, Iegor have roared a hasty spell.

"BIND!!" his voice, trembles. Hints of sorrow, panic and anger blends into a woeful

medley.

With just one evocation, we see some of the stallions have been rendered out from their fights, so did their riders. The commander-in-charges turned out to be Damhorn. He gestured something weird to his group. Beside him, a hooded woman began casting a spell out of the book. From the magic circle which appears on thin air, Phil noticed something.

"It's a teleport spell! She's going to teleport the commander inside!!"

Beside him, Brad's eyes glints as if he had found a meticulous idea. "Phil."

Said he, tapping his comrade's shoulder. "We're going out. Seal the gate."

It took Phil minutes to digress the point of Brad's plan, but in the end he nodded.

"Wait, you two! What are you planning?!"

Brad and Phil ignored Thomas' question, marching boldly to where Iegor madly wrecking spells. With one knock, Brad was able to throw off Iegor back inside the city wall. With that, Phil sealed the entire gate with his Stone Turret spell.

"Mr. Brad, Mr. Phil! What is the meaning of this?! Open up!!"

Thomas banged the stone bricks.

"I'll leave the big fish to you, lad!" Phil's voice sinks as the HOUNDS' war cry ricochet

against him.

"You can't! You'll die... No!!" Thomas cried out all his throat, trying to ram the bricks

open.

In a flash second, physic-defying quantum flick resonates on the open air around. Shocked, Iegor got back to his feet quickly and casts another spell. From the flickering zap, Damhorn came out with a lustful grin.

"Hi there, fey." he greeted. "I came to deliver this."

He throws the bundle of hair to Iegor's face, stunned white.

"This... is..." his lips quivered. “Commander’s..."

"Didn't even let out a squirming cry. How boring." Damhorn picks his nose then throw

the foul bead with finger's flick.

"Fu..." Iegor grasped his breath before letting out an amused chuckle. His reaction

surprised Damhorn whose expectation was for him to cry in distress. "You surely jest."

Iegor lowered his face in mocking gesture, hands carefully sifting his fringe.

"The Commander I know-- The Vaikne I know, won't fall that easily!"

He then turned to Thomas. "Go."

"What?! No! And leave you here alone?!" Thomas rejects vehemently.

"This is the last defense of Myriad's lower city, Isfel. I, Iegor Munar, shall not let this

intruder go home alive and well!" Thomas is struck speechless with his resolve.

"Go! Now!!"

Now, we're back at the battlefield where Reita faces Damhorn in losing situation. Her life have been spared due to a familiar face came running to assist. His words, bitter and embalmed in frothing rage, says

"You're going down!"

Not thinking twice, he leapt across and began attacking. His signature move,

Sword Dance, tramples the ground with graceful movement which spurs deadly shot.

"Thomas, no!" Reita calls his name.

Damhorn laughs irritatingly, mocking as he evades every of Thomas' strike. Having all his attack blocked, he steps back to readjust his stance. His grunting breath dislocate any focus he had left, baring him vulnerable to future attacks.

"Thomas!" Reita grasps his shoulders. "What happened? Where is everyone?"

Without turning his head around, Thomas answered simply.

"Gone."

"Gone...? What, why... How?"

"It's because of you, HOUNDS!" Thomas roared, hastening his steps into another

Sword Dance move.

This move was invented to be used with refined limbs, controlled in serene mind. His state at this time doesn’t fulfill those requirement, hence the easiness to counter the move with minimum effort. Damhorn gets him back by sending parabolic weave of thunder orbs to his shoulder.

"Ugwaaah!" Thomas winced, then fall to his back.

"Thomas! You okay?!" Reita came to him. "We can't defeat this with blind rage."

She said, "Hey, listen. If we can work together, I'm sure--"

"What is it to work together?!" the young man startles her with his yelling.

"Everyone is gone! Dead! Because of this man!! Now I'm going to severe his veins!"

Reita let a woeful sigh, acknowledging his sadness. "Listen..." she puts

Varunastra down to the ground. “You’re not alone. You have me here."

Thomas' blank mind was hammered by light of confidence.

"Right now, all we can do is to work together and do our best to defeat the bad guy."

Then, she heard an appalling cheer from beyond the barrier. It seems each of soldier have troubled themselves off the bed, just to give encouragement to her. Along with Lemington and the devotee, everyone cheered for them.

"See?" Reita smiles, giving Thomas' back a comforting knead. "Not everyone is gone.

We have to protect them too."

"Yes... You're right." Shines on his orb returns as Thomas stood up.

"We can do this. Right, Reita?"

"Yup. Now, have faith in yourself... and in us."

From within, suddenly there's new strength welling up from their insides.

A warm, enforcing valor which casts radiant glow around their bodies.

"What is... this?" Thomas checks his palm as why are they shone bright.

Beside him, Reita feels surge of waves crashing like a raging ocean.

She says then, with placid tone, "We're connected. It's the Kanjou Link."

"No way... You don't mean?!" Thomas' face brighten.

"Are you ready, Thomas?"

"Of course!"

With the newfound strength, our duo now able to evoke a new spell. Thomas jumps courageously, straight to Damhorn while Reita back him up. From her evocation, Reita omits several big bubbles which she casts to accompany Thomas in his attack. The squire jumps an acrobatic movement, holding his sword down to its pointy end. As the bubble reaches, it envelopes his sword, embellishing it into a liquefied slash.

Both shouts, with ardent voices. "Bubble Drop!!!"

"Another water-elemental?" Damhorn yawns lazily.

"You sure slow in the brain, Miss Punk!!" he gravels forward, arching his Bolt Trident.

"Bolt Chaaarge!"

"Crap! The sword... It contains my water magic!" Reita curses herself for letting

Thomas be the receiving end.

What she doesn't realize is that there are some crystal-clear, near transparent projectiles maimed right to Damhorn's chest. The man himself didn't realize it, until he took the bitter pill and staggered.

"Argh! Wha, What is this?!" his loss of steps led to spell cancellation, giving forth

Thomas all the opening he need.

"Heyaaaaargh!!" the young man shouts, embedding major slash with his aquatic

sword.

"Bhruaaargh!!" Damhorn cries out as his wound elevated, worsen by the saline

brought from Varunastra's drop. "Blast it! Just now... Who is that just now?!" he

coughed, blood spills from his rowdy mouth.

Another figure steps in, right before Reita's eyes. "Leave him to me." the figure said,

while Reita processed the memory of seeing this one sometimes before.

"I have seen you before... In Rampa.”

"Ah! You're the one--!" Thomas, who has just come back from his successful strike

said. The fallen Damhorn answers the mystery with teeth clacking in riling nark.