[Verdantis]
[Briarwick]
The metallic-like smell of blood permeated the chilly air. It clashed horribly with the smell of burnt flesh; the sound that dominated the air was that of blades slicing through flesh. And the sound of a bursts of plasma tearing through the air, melting snow.
Lucinda's hand tightly gripped onto a blade of her own, a simple traditional katana. Her eyes glossed over the bodies of some townspeople; plasma had ripped through their flesh, and their expressions were stuck in that of horror. The buildings and houses of Briarwick remained relatively untouched. Though that was surely soon to change with the violent battle that took place.
The Knights of Emberreach battled cultist after cultist. They were heavily outnumbered, but that did not matter.
"Die heretics!"
"To the deepest parts of the seventh hell to you!"
"Death to the heretics!"
"For the Gods! For Verdantis!"
When it came to physical might, the knights of Verdantis were unmatched. The few knights in Briarwick weaved through plasma fire as they cut down the cultists without a shred of mercy. The knights were ruthless and perfectly coordinated, but even so, the damage to Briarwick was already done. It's townsfolk were mulled down safe for a few, and Lucinda was praying to every God she knew that Zavier, Lily, and Lucy were unharmed. Apparently, Briarwick was not the only town that was under attack, as the knight scouts had reported that multiple towns and other villages were under attack. So she thought it wise to disperse with Agatha and Mirabella.
"Move!" Five cultists blocked her way to the inn as she drew near it. They leveled their rifles at her, but with a gesture of her hand, an invisible force seemed to slam into them, sending their bodies flying like projectiles to the side. She neared the inn, but a familiar voice stopped her in her tracks.
"I'd advise you not to go in there." Her head snapped to the source of it. A Chaosmaw, more specifically the one she had met back in the attack on the academy, Nybbas. She glared at the demon with a snarl.
"Are you behind this, demon!?" She shouted as she tensed her body for action. "Answer me!"
"My, my, how entertaining it is to see the spawn of Octavia so riled up." Nybbas mused as he stared at those brilliant, bright red eyes that glared bloody murder. "Alas, I am merely here to collect sufficient souls."
"Wha-" Her words were cut off as the door of the inn behind her swung open. She glanced behind her.
That long pitch-black hair and gleaming red eyes, coupled with that slim yet heavy, finely crafted armor. She knew very well who this was: Selwyn Von Auerswald, the crown prince of Vel'ryr. But what was someone like him doing here, out in the open? Why was someone this important risking being in Verdantis?
"It seems the demon was right." He spoke smoothly as his eyes locked into hers. "Worthy prey has presented itself." She wanted to question him, but her eyes were on his blade. It was finely crafted in black steel with silver outlines; its handle was curved, and the blade gave off an ominous energy. But that was not what she was focused on; no, it was the blood that stained the fine blade.
"No..." Her eyes stayed on the blade for what seemed like an eternity. The grip on her own blade tightened hard enough that it almost shattered. She failed the townsfolk, the children, and everyone else. Her teeth grinded together so hard that it was apparent to all.
There was no need for further words.
The moment their feet shifted, the world blurred.
Steel flashed in the waning sunlight as their blades met in a violent, ringing clash. The sheer force of their swings sent a shockwave through the narrow streets, snow erupting into the air like a blizzard. Sparks scattered from the grinding of metal against metal. Selwyn's sword carved through the air with monstrous force, Lucinda was faster.
She twisted her body through the narrowest gaps, her sword moving as an extension of her will. When his blade cleaved downward, she sidestepped and countered with a sharp thrust. When he swung in a brutal arc, she ducked beneath it, feeling the wind from his sword howl over her head. She parried, deflected, and redirected—never taking a hit, never letting herself fall into his rhythm.
Yet Selwyn was relentless.
He advanced with calm, each strike heavier than the last. The force of his attacks was like an avalanche, and even as Lucinda dodged and countered, the pressure mounted. Her blade felt lighter against his, her stance threatened to break under the sheer impact. He was pushing her back, cornering her with every step.
Lucinda narrowed her eyes, her mind racing. ("He's testing me. Measuring my strength.")
Her heels dug into the snow as she disengaged, flipping backward to gain distance. She landed lightly, her breath misting in the frigid air. But Selwyn did not give chase immediately—he simply smirked, tapping his sword against his shoulder, watching her with the curiosity of a predator that had not yet decided whether to devour its prey.
She knew what he was thinking. ("He doesn't see me as a threat.")
Her teeth clenched, fury bubbling beneath her skin.
Selwyn's figure blurred.
Lucinda barely had time to react before he was upon her again, his sword slicing in a vicious diagonal arc. She twisted to the side, feeling the gust of wind from the blade's path whip against her cheek. Before she could counter, his off-hand lashed out—his gauntlet-clad fist slamming towards her ribs. She pivoted on instinct, the blow grazing past her armor, but Selwyn had already adjusted.
His knee shot forward like a hammer.
The impact struck her midsection, knocking the air from her lungs and sending her skidding back across the snow. She barely managed to roll with the force, preventing herself from collapsing outright.
("Damn it… I can't overpower him. Not like this.")
Selwyn tilted his head. "Running away already?" he mused, stepping forward leisurely.
Lucinda's mind raced. ("I need to turn this against him.")
She turned on her heel and sprinted, dashing between the ruined buildings and the chaos of the ongoing battle. Her form became a streak of color, slipping through the wreckage. Selwyn gave chase, his movements deceptively relaxed, but every step of his closed the distance with ease. His presence loomed behind her.
She vaulted over a shattered market stall, landing lightly before twisting around a corner. Selwyn followed.
The chase wound through the devastated town, through the bloodied snow and burning structures. Each time he struck, she evaded—flipping over fallen beams, weaving through collapsing alleyways, maneuvering through the urban wreckage as though the town itself was her ally. Selwyn did not falter. His strikes shattered the environment around them. A single slash tore through wooden walls like paper. A downward cleave split the cobblestone beneath his feet, sending shards flying in every direction.
Despite her speed, despite her skill, she was still on the defensive.
The moment Selwyn caught her in an open space, she knew she had made a mistake.
His sword came down like an executioner's blade.
Lucinda barely raised her weapon in time, and the impact sent a tremor through her entire being. Her knees buckled, her arms quivered, and she was sent flying backward. Her body crashed through a wooden balcony, shattering through the support beams before she tumbled onto the rooftop of a crumbling house.
She landed hard, coughing as debris rained around her. But before she could recover, she felt it—his presence.
Selwyn descended from above, his blade gleaming.
Lucinda rolled away just as he landed, his sword plunging into the roof where she had been mere seconds ago. The entire structure groaned beneath the impact, fractures spreading like veins beneath their feet.
They clashed again.
The fight took to the rooftops, their blades striking in midair as they leapt between structures. Selwyn's blade came down in powerful, earth-shaking swings, forcing Lucinda to weave between each strike. Her feet barely touched the surface before she had to move again, each moment spent narrowly avoiding devastation.
Then—he read her movement.
Selwyn feinted a downward slash, but instead of following through, he kicked off the rooftop—adjusting in midair to intercept her. Lucinda's eyes widened as his fist crashed into her stomach.
The force sent her flying.
She spiraled uncontrollably before crashing through the roof of a house, her body slamming into the floor below with an impact that cracked the stone beneath her. Pain exploded through her ribs, her vision blurring for a split second. The cold air filled her lungs, but she had no time to recover.
Selwyn landed through the same hole, his armored foot aiming to crush her.
Lucinda rolled aside just as the ground where she had been lying caved in.
She scrambled to her feet, only for his blade to come for her again. She raised her sword in a desperate block—the impact sent her hurtling through the wall, out into the open street. She crashed against the frozen fountain at the town's center, her body aching, her breath ragged.
Selwyn loomed over her, his blade raised for the killing blow.
"Why not use that Arcane Ascendance?" His voice was calm, almost lazy. "It would make things somewhat entertaining."
"Shut up!"
Lucinda lunged forward in a last-ditch effort. Her sword lashed out, slicing across Selwyn's shoulder plate in a glancing blow. A shallow cut—nothing substantial. Nothing that would stop him.
Selwyn's counter came immediately.
His sword crashed down, the impact sending her to the ground. The earth trembled beneath them. The air quaked with the force of the collision. The surrounding buildings groaned, some even collapsing from the sheer power behind his strike.
As Lucinda lay there, battered and dazed, Selwyn raised his blade once more.
"How disappointing," he muttered, his voice dripping with boredom.
Lucinda gritted her teeth, pushing past the pain. She was going to lose.
But even in defeat, she would not give up.