A Wolf's Howl, A Fairy's Wing-Chapter 796 - No choice
Chapter 796 - No choice
The confessor scoffed as his opponents slowly closed the distance. So far, the scuffle had not even signed his immaculate clothing, nor did a single wound mark his pale skin. Six midnight plates zoomed aggressively around the battlefield, constantly harassing them. The star-flecked void within them pulsed faintly with freezing malice, as each of them was surrounded by an aura so cold it even made the two Runebound shudder.
Meanwhile, the man’s walking stick tapped once against the broken stone as he guided his disks. He’d closed his eyes now, as Zahra had blinded him anyway. He did mobilise his own power to resist Zahra’s spell, but it would take even him a while to get rid of it.
"You three are truly daring to try and oppose me like this," he hissed, his voice burning with cold fury. "Do you think yourselves capable of facing me, insects?"
Zohran’s hackles rose. His lips peeled back in a bestial snarl, sabres trembling with venomous shadow as he raced across the floor dodging icy white, starlight beams and midnight disks alike. "Let’s find out, you arrogant motherfucker!"
He lunged first, shadow clone splitting from his side, both rushing the Confessor with snarling speed. At the same time, a phantom blade of illusion appeared as if out of nowhere, mere inches from the confessor’s chest. Nasir roared behind them, magma flooding over his frame and gathering at the tip of his spear.
The Confessor didn’t even raise his hand. One midnight plate shot forward, intercepting Zohran’s strike. The clash rang like a cathedral bell, the impact reverberating down the jackal’s arms. His clone’s blades met another plate, shattering into wisps of shadow at a single brush. A third plate darted sideways, batting Zahra’s invisible dagger out of the air before it could reach his ribs. The Confessor’s smirk widened.
"Predictable. Wild dog, blood leech, and deceptive traitor. What a pitiful trinity."
Nasir’s magma spear thrust like a comet, punching forward with terrifying force. For a heartbeat, it looked like the Confessor might finally be caught. But with casual cruelty, he simply rotated his stick, midnight plates snapping into a wall. The magma tip screeched against impossible hardness, sparks flying, before being swatted aside. The Confessor barely shifted an inch.
Then his counterattack came.
A single sweep of his cane released the plates like hunting hounds. One carved across Zohran’s shoulder, slicing through fur and flesh as though nothing existed to resist it. The werejackal howled, twisting into shadow just in time to avoid being cleaved in half. Another plate ripped past Nasir, tearing molten armour from his chest, exposing pale skin to sunlight... or at least, it would.
As it turned out, this midnight domain had at least one benefit for the defenders in this battle, as Nasir no longer needed to worry about exposing his skin to the sun.
Meanwhile, the confessor remained unable to locate Zahra, sparing her from being targeted in his counterattack. Instead, he continued sending periodic beams of freezing starlight at the two illusions of Zahra that were still running around in an effort to distract him.
However, whatever senses he could access in side this domain were on constant high alert for any sign of her and, unfortunately for Zahra, she’d not yet fully recovered. Unable to fully focus, she stumbled and groaned while invisibly stalking across the battlefield to get a better angle.
Instantly, the confessor’s closed eyes drew in her direction, even as his plates continued effortlessly clashing with the two Runebound in front of him. A cruel smirk spread across his lips, and he snapped his fingers. "Got you!" he snickered.
Suddenly, the star-beams stopped raining down, and the large full-moon began to glow instead. "Frick!" Zahra cursed and struggled desperately away from the place she just stumbled at.
The moon flashed and zoomed. Then, a comparatively massive beam of the same freezing, white light blasted down at her. "No!" her companions roared, but it was too late. A loud boom accompanied the beam crashing against the ground, and a loud screech followed.
A singed, badly hurt, and fully visible Zahra was punted away from the impact zone. Surprisingly, despite the white nature of the light, inky-black patches of freezing ice had appeared on her clothing and skin, draining her life.
She groaned, but struggled stubbornly back to her feet, glaring at the confessor. Her body trembled, but her two companions sighed in relief at her survival.
Or at least, temporary survival.
"Hmpf," the confessor grumbled, seeing this. "Impressive dodging for an un-ascended Arcanist, but let’s see how long you can keep that up."
Instantly, it was the stars’ turn again as a new barrage of much smaller beams started raining down on the battlefield, targeting all three combatants. Wherever they went, they left behind these small, inky patches of ice. It wasn’t long before the trio discovered this ice not only radiated with deadly cold, but also poisoned whatever it touched with something similar to what Zohran and Lilith/Edda were capable of.
Without delay, the confessor’s midnight plates split into three groups of two and each raced towards one of the combatants. All three worried about the others, but none had the ability to help anyone but themselves.
Zohran and Nasir desperately defended against the plates and beams, but found themselves quickly driven back. They noticed the plates and beams had regained their previous speed and accuracy, and that the Confessor had opened his eyes again. It looked like his attack on Zahra had broken her void illusion over him, allowing him to see again...
Zahra watched the disks zoom towards her and felt herself despair as time slowed down around her. There was nothing she could do now. Her body was bleeding and marked with this creepy ice, so there was no way for her to make herself invisible and escape.
Similarly, her vision was blurry and her thoughts hazy. There was no way to conjure the focus she needed to access the power she had within the city limits.
In the distance, she saw her two rapidly tiring companions struggle desperately against the confessor’s onslaught, seeing an increasing number of wounds appear on their skin and fur.
With trembling hand, she reached into her clothes and produced a communication sigil. Her eyes focused on the approaching midnight plates, knowing they’d cut her to ribbons in mere moments.
"We should... have listened...." she muttered to herself. "Perhaps he can... at least save... the two of them."
With that, she activated the sigil and called for help.
