With those words said, Deja watched the three shadows draw their weapons. A short scythe, an iron mace and a long-curved sword. The three figures stepped away from one another. The shroud in the middle flashed forward; the two moved on cue and flanked her from either side.
Deja wasn't moved in the slightest and merely stood rooted to the same spot, wearing an intrigued look as the shadows surrounded her in seconds.
The sound of iron sliced the air, and Deja watched the mace, the sword, and the scythe arrive from different angles. She counted three breaths and exhaled.
The mace aimed for her left side, so Deja ducked low and twisted around to meet it with a closed fist that timely aimed for the wrist. The sword was the closest follow-up, and Deja was forced to jump and sent a roundhouse kick, knocking the hilt aside just before the blade arrived. Her momentum carried her into the air and around the incoming body; using her trailing foot, she slammed her heels against the chest of the third assailant before expertly spinning out of their net of attack. A trail of dust kicked up in her wake. She made a gentle chortle before catching the torn strands on the end of her robe.
"Oh, you caught my robe. Close-close-close."
The mace-wielding assailant dashed forward, twirling the cruel spiked iron in its hand. Deja positioned her two hands in a combat stance and waited with a smile. The callous-looking weapon slammed down towards her head; Deja sidestepped and parried the arm away using a delicately précised chop. But a moment later. The second assailant with the sword appeared right beside her, with the sword aimed at her gut. Deja pirouetted, using her two palms to expertly divert the trajectory before she drew her foot behind the figure. She grabbed the sword wielder by the waist and swung him over her planted leg into a takedown.
Deja giggled a little, hearing the sound of the sturdy back crashing into the ground.
Her eyes fluttered wider, and with her back turned, she could feel danger fast approaching. Deja ducked low, just about avoiding the scythe's bite, slashing forward. She daringly glanced over her shoulder before spinning around in a lower stance; her fist flashed forward like a viper. The masked figure wasn't quick enough to block, but once Deja felt the firm chest cave in slightly, she was suddenly halted by a steel-like resistance. The scythe wielder abandoned its weapon and instead surprisingly held onto her arm.
"oh?"
A muffled voice crept through the iron mask—a deep, melodic voice that said only a single word.
"Now!"
Deja heard a loud thrum; in the corners of her eyes, she could see rising white flames burning against their bodies.
"Silver Ranked ooo what a treat. Hmm, hand-to-hand might make this a little difficult then. Guess I should take this seriously. Sigh, but wouldn't they just all die."
Deja felt their Qi's spike and switched her approach. The two assailants Qi roared, and their attacks were double the previous speed. She was given a second to react. And she did so without a second thought. With her one remaining arm, she flipped her palm open and, with a cruel smile, spoke a single word that would alter the course of this battle.
{Book}
Alto Salazar stood by the opened gates of the manor. He had his personal guards aligned behind him—24 knights dressed in boiled leather and armed with iron weapons at the ready. With folded arms, he stared without expression towards the near-distant forest. The rolling hills looked peaceful, and today simply looked like any other day.
But even for a man seasoned in battle and war like Alto was. His instincts told him something was different in the air today.
Perhaps it had been his Lord father's call to be ready for a battle. A battle he had no knowledge or understanding of to be true. The call almost sounded to be based on a whim. Just in case the Death Knights failed.
Alto found that strange. For when did Death Knights ever fail.
"Just to make sure..." He twisted around and peered with a narrowed gaze towards the vast sky above. There was a tiny dot lingering around one of the few clouds in the sky today. Easily mistaken for nothing, only Alto knew exactly what that creature was—looming in the clouds above, waiting for his orders.
He exhaled tiredly and moved his gaze back towards the peaceful-looking forest. Time gently waded by, and Alto grew slightly restless. Suddenly, a voice struck the heavens. One of his knights spotted something approaching through the crowded forest.
"Over there...something is coming?"
Alto stepped forward and shifted his neck from side to side to loosen his joints. His narrowed gaze locked ahead until he noticed faint rustling amongst the bushes. A lone figure surprisingly emerged from the forest. Her grey robes clung to her lithe body in a way that revealed her curves hidden underneath. Alto narrowed his gaze a little more. From what he could see, the figure was a young girl with pale skin and deep bluish-black hair trailing down her neck. Their eyes shortly met, and he saw an endless pit of emptiness devoid of emotion.
There was something true with all men who were accustomed to war. How one could tell through the eyes of a person born in it.
Alto didn't bother hesitating; perhaps the girl was a decoy for a larger army. So, he raised his arm upright, straight and poised like an arrow. His movements steered the archers into action as arrows knocked against a tight string.
Alto exhaled a deep breath before he spoke.
"Fire"
Dozens of arrows whipped forward from behind him. Most of them were empowered by the burning fires of Ki. They whizzed through the air and sunk low right on top of the robed girl.
Alto expected to see the army appear any second now. But instead...
The girl removed one of her hands from behind her back, and along with it arrived a peculiar medium-sized open book. Floating just above her palm. Alarm bells quickly sounded through his mind. But before he had a chance to warn his men.
The girl stretched out her hand and lazily waved it forward. In the next moment, a giant grey hand, twice her size, rose away out from the dirt and shielded her from the incoming arrows. The grotesque palm looked gnarly, covered in bumps and scaled skin with long dark claws. Alto watched the iron heads sinking helplessly into the soft texture of the back of the hand.
Seeing that take place, he was assured he understood what that girl was.
He pulled his sword free from its scabbard with gritted teeth and cursedly said.
"A Wizard"
The shock hadn't ended there. Alto got his wish and saw a large tussle in the forest behind the girl. He immediately sensed something else was on the way, perhaps an army, as he had previously imagined. A few minutes later, something terrifyingly revealed itself.
Alto twitched uncomfortably as he stared at the creature from afar. Confused expressions laced his entire face. He blinked almost duncely at it. Then he turned towards his men for reassurance. Their faces paled, and their eyes bulged wide as saucers.
He pressed his eyes forward again when the creature unearthed itself away from the forest. It looked like a translucent squid, with tentacles writhing around its body. It was perhaps as big as a fully mature red-furred boar. With its head squished into its telltale body, its skin was peculiar, and it seemed to reflect like glass beneath the morning light.
Alto had never seen anything like it before. But he had also never expected to see those four masked heads being carried in its long, slimy arms.
"Four death knights have fallen? Heh-how unsightly." Alto slightly twisted his sword to position its flat surface towards the assailant. His hawk-shaped eyes closed, he breathed in deep, and by the time he exhaled again, a surge of Qi exploded. Sending a gust of wind pushing away from him.
Alto glared with a coldness practically vibrating throughout his entire body.
"Men! Let your Qi run wild. Today, we put a stop to that creature. We must stop them both by any means necessary."
A reptilian snarl cracked through the tense air, and all eyes shot skywards towards the descending flying wing creature. Set to arrive.
Roland POV
"Phew, finally, old-timer, get a look at this."
Roland breathed out loud in satisfaction. He wore a jubilant grin while he admired the peculiar and very real tiny flame he managed to conjure against his finger. It was still but a tiny blue fire surrounded by grey, inky smoke. According to Omega's analysis, it took him approximately 46 hours to perfect the flame conjured directly from the ancient magic rune.
There was still a long list of problems he needed to work through, but for now, Roland wanted to at least make the most out of this unusual situation. A short while passed and Wizard Grey still didn't appear.
"Hm, where could he have gone, I wonder?" Roland picked himself off the rocky ground and walked ahead. After brushing his hands clean, he carefully looked at his surroundings.
A lot had changed inside this mind palace of his. For instance, the skies had changed from an eerie violet tint to a more welcoming look. Up above lay a bright azure-pale velvet quilt. Although somewhat artificial-looking, cloudless and unblemished, it was a lot more cheerful-looking than what stood before. The other significant change was everything else.
Roland walked up the sloped hill, which was actually a large floating rock. He reached the highest point, peered over the edge, and across this empty, bright plane. Most of his view was filled with an immense emptiness. The skies ran as far and wide as his eyes could see. Several other floating rocks were dotted against the velveteen fabric like this one. Some were as small as boulders, whilst others were as large as an island. Roland combed his gaze against what felt like he was submerged high up in the sky. That feeling wasn't entirely wrong, considering what lay in wait below.
Once he finally lowered his gaze, he met an endless sea of shimmering darkness. Only calling it darkness wasn't precisely correct. It was more like a sea of crackling fire, and if he looked very closely, Roland could see the blue flames entwined within the dark pool. Whilst a ghostly smog of grey walked across the surface.
Ever since that fiasco with the ancient rune the ambiance of his mental palace had taken a drastic change, the conscious prison and the training rooms were offline.
Roland speculated he must've exhausted all his mental energy from that point, considering Omega could not wake him back up. This also influenced his reasoning for spending his time playing with this strange phenomenon trapped within his mind.
He stared at his empty brown hand, reflecting on himself and the mysterious powers surrounding him.
He stared off into the endless blue sky and relaxed his breath.
"Nothing was ever simple." He said aloud.