Sylaphine's Perspective:
1/1/2018 - 12:02 PM
My smirk widened as that all-too-familiar voice brushed against my ears, soft yet venomous.
"So… it's you, witch?" I murmured, eyes drifting across the crimson-lit corridor, the air trembling with cursed mana.
No answer came — only a whisper of laughter that prickled my skin. But I didn't need her reply. I could feel her. That insolent white-haired girl had returned for the cockroach. How quaint.
How deliciously foolish to walk willingly into my divine domain — the cage of death itself.
With a slow, regal stride, I advanced toward the disturbance, each step deliberate, the sound of my heels echoing like judgment.
Then, without warning, a grotesque demon lunged out of the smoke — its body twisted, claws jagged like black glass, dripping corruption. I raised my palm, forming a barrier of divine light as it struck. The impact cracked the air, forcing it back.
It hissed, retreating low, before its belly split open, releasing a veil of toxic vapor that ate through stone.
"Pathetic," I said coldly, snapping my fingers. A ring of golden sigils shimmered, and the miasma evaporated as though reality itself refused to offend me.
The creature growled and leapt again. I tilted my head, amused.
"How adorable… a demon siding with humans."
I extended my arm gracefully, the faintest smile curving my lips.
"I suppose I can indulge you for a moment. Let's make this entertaining, shall we?"
My voice turned melodic as I chanted,
"By root and realm, by leaf and light,
Awaken, stave of verdant might."
From the circle of emerald sigils, a luminous green bo staff materialized — elegant, divine, humming with authority.
I spun it once, the wind sighing in its wake.
"Let's see how you dance, little beast."
The demon snarled and lunged — its movements animalistic yet precise. It came down with a flurry of dropkicks that I parried in smooth, circular motions. Each impact echoed like thunder. It slammed a fist toward my face — I deflected it with the staff and sidestepped, its kick grazing my robe. My counter came swift: a thrust to its chest that sent it staggering.
I advanced, staff spinning in a dazzling flourish, striking its face in a relentless combo. It raised its arms to shield itself, only to have its claws dart toward my throat. I tilted my head, the attack grazing air. Our weapons met mid-motion — my staff against its claw — and the collision birthed a shockwave that rippled through the ground.
It slid back, wings spreading wide, then charged again. We clashed — blow after blow — until I caught its arm. Its shriek pierced the air as I twisted it violently and pressed my palm against its flesh. Light burst forth — anti-venom sanctification — a divine purification so agonizing it writhed and howled, severing its own arm to escape.
It flung backward, sprouting its wings to regain balance, black ichor raining as its limb regenerated.
"Ahahahah.."
"Truly pitiful. Tell me, why obey? Why bow to the whims of humanity? Has your kind fallen so low that you trade your hatred for servitude?"
"Demons once saw humans as cattle — slaves to be devoured or broken. And now you… kneel beside them?"
I raised the staff, divine light glinting across my eyes.
"How adorable. How utterly disgraceful."
Then the demon smirked—its cracked lips peeling into a grin that reeked of arrogance.
It slammed both arms into the ground, sending a tremor across the battlefield that cracked the marble beneath my feet. From the fissures, the Frostcrawler's demonic form emerged once more—twisted, taller, its limbs jagged and covered in black ice. Another shape followed: a humanoid silhouette wreathed in crimson flame, carrying a bow that glowed molten, each ember forming an arrow ready to tear through the air.
I exhaled, eyes narrowing.
All three rushed me at once.
The fiery demon loosed a volley faster than mortal eyes could follow. I lifted my hand; the very air around me chilled—not from cold, but authority. His flames hit my aura and hissed into harmless smoke. I caught one of the arrows mid-flight, its molten shaft dripping between my fingers, and crushed it—steam coiling from my palm.
Then came the Frostcrawler, a blast of icy breath rushing toward my back. I spun, staff whirling—a halo of golden light and blue fire tracing arcs in the air. The breath split apart, redirected, freezing the ground behind me in crystalline shards.
But there was no pause. The grotesque, leathery wings tearing at the wind, dove low—while the fiery demon closed in again, blade ignited, aiming for my throat.
I met them head-on.
The staff clashed against the fiery blade, sparks scattering like dying stars. The demon pushed forward, raw aggression against divine technique. My movements were clean, refined—each strike perfect. The staff curved, redirected his swing, then cracked his ribs with a sharp, whistling thrust.
Before I could finish him, the grotesque's claws swiped at my back. I ducked low, spinning my staff beneath me, the momentum sweeping my hair in a white arc. Its talons grazed my aura, the impact rippling like waves over glass.
The Frostcrawler took that chance—dozens of jagged ice spears erupted from the ground, shooting toward me from every direction. I flipped backward, striking the spears mid-air with the end of my staff, each one shattering with a sound like breaking mirrors. The demons pressed harder, their teamwork born of desperation.
The fiery one cast rings of flame that closed around me. The grotesque used its wings to blind my vision, and the Frostcrawler circled, spreading ice to slow my movement.
Pathetic.
I let my magic surge—a pressure that made even flame hesitate. My eyes blazed gold. The air shimmered with divine heat.
The fiery demon lunged again; I stepped forward, caught him by the throat mid-swing, and slammed him into the earth so hard the ground cratered. His flames scattered like dying embers.
Before his regeneration could begin, I pressed my heel against his head—then crushed. The ground sizzled as the skull gave way with a wet crunch, the fire dying instantly.
The grotesque screeched, using the distraction to dive. I spun my staff once more, planted it in the ground, and vaulted upward.
My heel connected with its face mid-flight—crack!—sending it smashing into the wall, wings bending at impossible angles.
The Frostcrawler roared in defiance. Ice burst from its arms, spikes forming like blades. I raised my hand—vines erupted from the ground, wrapping around its limbs and throat, constricting. But the creature exhaled frost, freezing my vines in seconds, turning green to glass.
So I answered with fire.
A single flick of my wrist, and divine flame rushed through the frozen roots, consuming it all in a bright inferno. The Frostcrawler's scream was brief—it melted where it stood, reduced to nothing but ash and steam.
Silence fell. Only the faint crackle of burning ice remained.
I brushed a speck of ash from my shoulder. "Pathetic," I murmured, stepping over the fiery demon's corpse. "Same as that cockroach. All weak."
The staff's tip hissed as it cooled in the air, glowing faintly from the heat of my wrath.
Immediately noticing the uneasy illusive magic in the air.
I lifted the veil of illusion with a careless breath — a gesture, nothing more — and the truth snapped into place.
There, bent over the ruined husk of Kaiser, a figure I knew too well worked with her hands that trembled and yet moved with practiced tenderness. Linne — my own fairy — but twisted, her halo dulled, an undercurrent of something darker whispering under her skin.
Demon-blood stained her palms as she wove a skein of healing magic around his scattered pieces. The sight unsettled me in a way no blade ever had.
"How—" I whispered. "How did you become—"
And beyond her, stepping through the shadows like a stain, was the one I expected: white hair like spilled moonlight, eyes like the blood moon.
She was in a black gown that ate the light around it. The dress hugged her in all the right places, the bodice a lattice of lace that traced floral spirals across her chest without ever feeling like mere ornament; it read as ceremony, as threat. A slender choker looped her throat — a small bow balanced on a collar made to bind.
Her eyes found me. Crimson. Bright. Murderous.
"So," I said, my tone sharpening. "All of that… was just a distraction to fix that rotting human of yours?"
Celia's lips curved into a smile. "Oh? Took you long enough to figure that out, Bitch."
Her eyes flicked to Kaiser's still form — his body twitching faintly — then back to me.
"I came here to bring him back." She tilted her head, her smile widening. "But that's not all I came for."
Chains began swirling around her hand — jagged, lined with shards of black glass. The air whined from their weight.
She raised her fist slightly, her tone dripping with mock sweetness.
"I came to rearrange that self-righteous face of yours."
I smiled back, slow and cold. "Bold words for a parasite hiding behind cursed scraps."
She laughed — loud, sharp, almost joyful. "Oh, that's cute. Says the woman who sends her pet fairies to do her dirty work. Look where that got her — face down, rotting, like the rest of your pathetic creations."
My teeth clenched. "Watch your mouth when you speak of her."
"Or what?" she said, tilting her head. "You'll bless me to death? Maybe cry to your gods about it?"
"Do not mock divinity, you creature. A cursed user will never defeat me — not in this lifetime or the next. Ask your precious Demon Lord if you want a second opinion."
"I don't need his damn opinion. I don't take orders from anyone. I'm not here to reason with you. I'm here to destroy you."
"You mistake defilement for strength."
She smirked. "And you mistake arrogance for holiness."
"You would raise the dead for your vanity, just like the last Queen of Curses."
"Maybe I will." Her voice sharpened. "Maybe I'll make your fairy dance for me next. Maybe I'll turn your whole little labyrinth heaven into my pet cemetery."
I took a step forward. "You think death frightens me? You dare to touch what was mine, and you will beg for death before I'm done with you."
Celia tilted her chin up, crimson eyes burning. "You think you're scary, angel? You killed my patience long ago. Now, I'll kill you. I'll kill your fairy again. I'll drag your little soldiers through your own ugly mud. And when I'm done, I'll hang your crown above my bed."
My grip on the staff tightened. "You really have no shame."
"Oh, I have plenty," she said, laughing. "It's just buried under all the corpses I've made. And you're next, Bitch. I'll make sure your name rots beside theirs."
I met her stare, voice dropping to a whisper that shook the air.
"You killed Linne. You desecrated my home. You will pay for both with your soul."
"I'll kill them all one by one," she said, voice steady now. "Your fairies, your guards, your god — they'll all scream here, in my realm. But don't worry…"
She raised her chained fist, the glass shards catching the light like blood.
"You get to go first."
I exhaled, every part of me alive with fury.
"Then come, Queen of Curses. Let's see if your curses can outlast a goddess' wrath."
"Wrath?" she said, smirking, stepping closer. "I'll show you what wrath really looks like."
I tightened my grip on the bo staff as Celia's chains whipped around her like living serpents, the sharp edges scraping the air and leaving arcs of black energy behind.
"You really thought I'd let you waltz in here and touch my little cockroach?" I spat, spinning the staff in a blur. The tip met one of her chains mid-lash, sparks flying where metal met enchanted glass.
She grinned, eyes wild and crimson. "Cockroach? How cute. You really think your fairy-dust tricks scare me, bitch?"
With a hiss of cursed energy, she spun her chains outward, forming a jagged web, forcing me back. I stepped forward through the gap, my staff glowing faint green, extending like a living limb.
I swept it low, slamming her chains aside, and launched a rapid combination — a spin strike to her ribs, a flick to her jaw — each movement precise, carrying the weight of seven thousand years of mastery.
"You think your chains make you untouchable? A mere insect playing with claws!" I said, my voice slicing through the tension.
"Better than a stuck-up angel pretending she owns the world!" Celia snapped back, spinning forward, the chains wrapping around her arms like animated whips. She lashed them toward my staff, forcing me to block and pivot.
"Clever," I muttered, stepping into her momentum. I spun, bo staff snapping into the ground and flaring into emerald light, repelling her chains with an explosion of force.
"COME FORTH!" She screamed.
From the shadows, the first demon emerged. Its grotesque form lunged at me, claws snapping, wings beating violently. I leapt high, swinging the staff in a crescent that shattered its limbs with clean precision.
"Pathetic," I said coldly, landing and spinning to meet the next, the fiery one. Its bow ignited, arrows streaking toward me. I leapt into the air, air currents bending around me, snuffing the flames before they could strike. I grabbed the arrow mid-flight and twisted my wrist, sending it snapping into Ronan's face.
"Careful, bitch," Celia taunted, crouching low as the frostcrawler emerged, frost lacing the air, spears of ice darting toward me. I spun my staff horizontally, flames and light flaring along its length, vaporizing the ice and sending a wave of heat that cracked the frozen ground.
"Still siding with humans? You're just another insect hiding behind their bodies!" I hissed, vaulting forward, staff smashing into Ronan's chest as I spun into Celia, meeting her chains with a clash that sent sparks flying.
"Faries, demons, monsters… all the same," she spat, striking me with her chains mid-spin. "They all will serve me!"
I kicked backward, creating distance, then flicked the staff toward the air — summoning threads of time and space. I bent the battlefield, shoving frostcrawler into the ground as it tried to flank me, cracking stone beneath it.
"CROWNLESS!" She screamed as the grotesque came behind me.
"You call that arrogance?" I said, slashing at Crownless as it attempted a cheap flying attack. "I've seen animals with more strategy!"
She growled, spinning violently, chains lashing outward like barbed snakes. "And you? You're a stuck-up, fairy-loving bitch who prides royalty!"
I smirked, vaulting over a chain strike. "Watch your tongue, insect. One wrong move and you'll face the same fate as him."
"RONAN!"
With a swift flick, I struck Ronan's head, sending him skidding across the shattered floor. I turned, meeting Celia mid-lunge, her chains snapping like steel snakes. I deflected, then twisted my staff, launching her backward into a wall of stone shards I raised from the ground.
"NOW VEIL!"
Veil moved to intercept, ice spears forming in a flurry, but I extended my hand, palm glowing. Elemental magic surged, fire licking through frost, turning the ice to steam as the demon screeched and staggered.
"Still standing?" I said, landing gracefully. "I expected more from a queen of curses."
"Queen?" Celia's laugh was sharp, bitter. "I don't need such titles! I'll break your face myself!"
"Then step forward, and see the cost," I said, vaulting through the air, spinning my staff like a whip. Crownless tried to flank me again, only to find its head crushed against the ground by a sweeping strike.
Ronan and Veil attacked simultaneously. I twisted mid-air, staff deflecting Ronan's fiery arrows while burning Veil's ice spears with a wave of green fire. I landed behind them, spinning the staff and cleaving Ronan's bow in two, before slamming it into Veil's frozen form, cracking the ice encasing it.
"You're weak," I said coldly. "All of you, pathetic… like that cockroach you cling to."
She smirked…
"Just as I planned."
From the cracked ground where Veil had fallen, the earth tore open like a hungry mouth — black ice coiled, stone groaned, and a maw of frozen earth lunged to swallow me whole. The trick was simple and ugly: trap.
I sighed in midair, bored and precise. I let the bo staff fall.
It hit the frozen lip with a single, deliberate arc and bloomed — not a spark, but a clean, surgical explosion of light. Veil shattered like glass under pressure; the frozen maw collapsed into powder and steam. The air reeked of ozone and burning frost.
I gracefully landed on my feet.
Celia's eyes widened for the first time since this began. Surprise flashed through her crimson pupils.
She stood there, chains coiling at her knuckles, and I felt the satisfaction of the moment settle across my skin. I let a small smile show.
"You're tiresome," I said. "Amusing, for a moment. But it ends here."
I pointed a single finger at her.
"Die."
Nothing happened.
The silence stung. For a heartbeat I expected her to perish like he did, the collapse of that insolent grin. Instead, her smile only widened — wetter, older than her years.
"Centuries and you're still gullible, my queen," she purred, as if this were a private joke. "You're too easy."
Then she struck.
Her fist came at my face like a meteor — too fast to call up a shield. I grabbed it with both palms. She lifted her knee and drove a kick into my stomach; I blocked with my thighs, countered, and for the first time in this fight I slid back, momentum ripping from me.
She laughed, cruel and bright. "Too close huh?"
I laughed too, sharp and full. "How graceless — to be absent in body and still so arrogant."
"Oh? Who said I had to be there to fight?" she taunted, and the air around her wavered.
I watched her carefully, letting the suspicion grow into knowledge.
The body before me held illusions and shadow — yet something in its edges shimmered wrong. The magic it wore was layered: her cursed signatures braided with demonic echoes. A clever trick, but not original.
It was an illusive body.
It was a seamshard simulacrum — a twisted echo made from cursed energy and bound demons. Celia had poured her essence into it: solid enough to strike, fragile enough to deceive. Every demon she harvests, every soul she touches, strengthens her, stitches her power tighter.
She fought from afar, yet somehow stood here.
Using Nature's Heart, I reached through the labyrinth. Threads pulled taut, revealing the truth: the real Celia hid deep within the maze, somewhere among dead turns and false doors — still with Lucas and Lily.
Her mind slithered through the cursed web, animating this simulacrum. Linne's blood, Crownless's blood — each drop an anchor. The grotesque's curse I had destroyed before became her backbone.
So this was her plan all along. She knew she couldn't reach here herself. Her demons watched over Kaiser, warned her the moment we returned. And then she built this mock body, fueled it with life stolen from that grotesque, and sent it to toy with us.
She wasn't content to mirror the old Queen of Curses; she had learned a darker lesson. The previous queen raised armies of demons. This one bled the power of monsters into herself — ten percent for every demon she conquered — and brought their strengths into her own frame.
With each new demon ascended. She becomes stronger… adapting their abilities onto herself.
Nothing like the last queen, then. The last one couldn't adapt her own demon's abilities.. This one wanted to feel the satisfaction of victory.
At any cost.
I narrowed my eyes at the simulacrum. "So you steal your own soldier's abilities. How very modern."
The fake Celia's smile thinned into a snarl. "Steal? I make it my own. I take what is mine. And I'll take you next."
"You forget—" I said softly, "—that every borrowed power has a consequence."
She spat, the simulacrum's lips twisting with pure malice. "Then show me where, Bitch."
She turns her head to Linne still healing him.
"Kai'll wake up soon," she breathed, eyes glittering. "He'll love the surprise."
"I don't doubt you crave his wonder," I said, the line a scalpel.
She laughed — high and broken. "He'll see your destroyed face first." Her chains tightened and retracted.
I paused.
Her devotion to Kaiser — sick and obsessive — made her dangerous in a way pure cruelty never could.
Her emotions were cruel, fueling her cursed magic ever more.
Was it… Jealousy?
The fight had been long enough; now I would end it.
"It's time you see infinity," I whispered, voice folding into the bones of the labyrinth.
And then everything broke.
Linne's healing light — tore free from her chest and she fell onto the ground. Her soul collapsed outward, a pale bloom on marble, and then it was gone from her body.
Oh realizing it now? Adorable.
"I can't heal this…?" Linne's voice, thin as glass, whispered. I watched her eyes find the place where Kaiser should have been, and there was nothing but empty air and the echo of his name.
I smirked, feeling the cool certainty settle in my bones. "Nobody can heal what I've destroyed. It's a binding vow — all your efforts were in vain."
Confusion flickered across Celia's face like a shadow. She mouthed something, words tumbling out soft and hollow.
"How can he… outside… if…"
Her illusion wavered. The simulacrum that had prowled at the edge of my sight thinned like smoke in wind; her demons sank to the ground, their forms collapsing into useless ash.
"Mirage… return to the realm. It's over," she muttered, and the sound of her voice came from somewhere else — a distant corridor. The echo died as her presence peeled away.
Is she giving up?
Leaving him to die?
I could feel the vow in my blood — the law I had carved into the world: no outsider could mend what I chose to destroy. I had bound that truth to the bones of this place when I swore my avatar.
Realizing it was impossible. She must've decided to escape from here alive as quickly as possible. Sensible, maybe. Cowardice, certainly.
I let the thought settle, and a small, dry amusement rose.
I walked to where Kaiser lay — the body.
"Hmm," I said aloud, almost conversational. "I suppose I'll toy with you a little."
I lifted my palm toward his upper torso — the place where my power had cut him in two — and whispered the softest command.
"Rise."
My magic flowed like iced silk, not to fully fix what had been destroyed — that was not the point — but to pull a thread of sensation back into the husk.
Flesh trembled. A ragged breath hit the stagnant air. He coughed, half-broken, eyes shuttering as if against pain.
I crouched, resting my chin lightly on my knuckles, studying him like an artist admiring a flawed piece.
"There now… doesn't agony make you honest?"
A soft laugh escaped me, low and cruel. "You'll move when I allow it. Speak when I wish it. Breathe — if I find it amusing."
"Now… let's see how long it takes before you beg to die again."