Heavy breaths echoed through the tattered square, steam rising from scorched stone as Seraphon, Claive, and Fenien stood their ground.
The Unaging blinked across the battlefield, dodging the men's attacks while retaliating without barely a scratch. Until…
"Acts of Teleportation are prohibited here."
The voice came in low and absolute. Nivlek's judgment, driven into the area through his artifact, echoed like a divine vow across space.
Instantly, the Unaging's Blink faltered to a halt. Her relentless flickering across the battlefield as she maintained dominance, was stopped.
Realizing the opportunity given to them, Seraphon and Claive seized the opening.
Light-forged weapons crackled in the Deacon's hands, glowing brighter with azure flame. Beside him, Claive's silhouette blurred with kinetic speed, embers dancing in his wake.
The two moved in perfect sync. A twin assault, divine radiance from one side, burning steel and wind pressure from the other.
The Unaging twisted, barely avoiding both. The ground ruptured where the blows struck.
But then,
Boom!
A blast cracked through the clash, a bright, spiraling burst of flame and metal that slammed into her side. Her body shattered once more into mirror shards, scattering in shards.
She reappeared meters away, narrowing her eyes afar.
Fenien's mechanical arm steamed from the recoil, a thin trail of fire licking across the vent ports.
"Cannon loaded." he muttered, flicking another shell into the chamber with a hiss of pressure.
Claive wasted no time.
He called the winds, drawing the Unaging upward, a vortex of gale and fire catching her mid-step. She struggled, twisting mid-air, but the control was too sharp, too coordinated.
And from below, Seraphon raised both arms.
Twin Unshadowed Spears ignited in his grasp, holy constructs of silvery light wreathed in flames and cull. He hurled both of them towards the demoness.
Witnessing both spears heading towards her way, she encased herself in a barrier made of ice. The barrier stopped one of the spears as it hit, but the second spear hit her body on-full. She screamed as she used mirror substitution to avoid more damage, cracking into mirror shards.
She reformed on the ground, more ragged now. Her expression tightened. Her Mirror Substitutions were dwindling and her breath was getting hitched
Anger flared in her expression.
She raised both arms and launched a barrage, razor ice spears, tenfold, screeching through the air like bone-frozen missiles.
Seraphon stepped forward, his armor of light flaring as he took the brunt of the central volley. Claive pivoted to the side, dodging and conjuring a burning shield to intercept the rightward arc.
Fenien dodged as well, but the Unaging was already moving, closing the distance.
A blade of ice extended from her palm in a dagger shape, imbued with deadly poisons. Her gaze locked onto Fenien.
He raised both arms to meet her, a reinforced elbow joint slamming against her wrist, pushing the blow off-course.
The two danced, with her movements fluid and graceful. Fenian's movements however were mechanical and deliberate. But slower.
She ducked under one strike and spread her left hand across his chest.
Greenish-black veins pulsed into his body, spreading corruption like ink in water.
Fenien grunted, his body resisting, gears grinding.
"Not… fast enough…" he muttered.
With his body being part mechanical, he could still resist things such as poison to an extent. Although, his actions dulled even more, growing heavier.
The Unaging smiled cruelly.
Then a blast of holy light surged across the side of her vision, forcing her to disengage just before Claive came crashing in with a wide arc of flame.
The battle was still in full swing, but momentum had started to shift.
Their unity, empowered by Nivlek's presence and interference, had begun eroding her rhythm.
And even the Unaging felt it.
Her mirror eyes narrowed.
They had to die. Fast.
…
The war room stood still with the tension of two men well-acquainted with danger.
Emory's gaze swept the room one last time before resting on Alistair. "How are our defenses?"
Alistair didn't even look up from where he was adjusting the fittings of a blade sheath. "Still active. All of the traps are holding. Any Demoness would need to rip half the building apart before sneaking in."
"Good." Emory exhaled. "I sent the Recon Unit into one of the sub-level vaults, the one we used to store the more volatile spoils and sealed artifacts. If something's coming, I don't want those pieces unguarded."
Alistair grunted his approval. "Smart call."
Suddenly, heir spiritual intuition flared, a bone-deep pressure clawing at them.
The air turned hollow and the sound dropped out of the world. Silence befell them, but it was not a peaceful one.
Both men locked eyes, instincts aligning without a need for words.
They rushed to the nearest window.
What greeted them was not the forest from before.
Not even the night sky.
The world beyond the walls had curled in on itself, they were no longer in the Southern Continent.
It was just a void cavern, dark and boundless, with stone walls layered with depth.
Alistair narrowed his eyes. "We've been pulled in."
Emory's jaw tensed. "The Mirror World…"
To pull an entire outpost, with its defenses, people, and artifacts, into a dimensional fold this massive?
It would take the power of a Catastrophe or someone with equivalent backing.
"As we expected, their objective is to save the Demoness of Purple." Emory remarked.
Alistair didn't respond at first, his senses were already sharpening, as he readied his blades for a siege.
"If they sent someone like that for her, this just became something else." He turned around as he moved in strides.. "Lets go to her room."
They bolted through the dim corridors, slightly steered aside, in uneven balance.
A distant blast shook the walls. The air shimmered with heat and shattered traps.
Emory clicked his tongue. "They're already inside."
"Let's move," Alistair growled.
As they neared the central hall, ice spears burst toward them. Sharp, crystalline projectiles.
Emory reacted instantly, conjuring his Armor of Light, golden radiance flickering around him. With a sweep of his hand, he manifested blades of shining light, intercepting the spears mid-flight and melting them in midair.
From the left corridor came the hiss of tension, as silken threads slithered like living whips, cutting through the air with precision.
Alistair moved in a blur, twin blades igniting with the light of dawn. He sliced through the threads cleanly..
From the shadows, two figures emerged.
One tall woman, draped in a corseted coat of ink-black and violet velvet, long hair cascading down her back. An obsidian tiara gleamed faintly atop her head.
The other woman was more agile, her garb lighter, baring her arms and sides, with icy-blue marks etched across her pale skin like tattoos. Her eyes shimmered with cruelty.
"Well, well," the tiara-bearing demoness purred, her voice laced with venomous charm. "Two loyal hounds of the Intis Army. One knight and one hunter. How quaint."
The second giggled darkly. "Didn't think we'd catch you alone, did you?"
Emory's eyes narrowed. He didn't rise to the bait.
Alistair also didn't answer at all. He proceeded to lunge at them.
His blades met the second Demoness head on, their weapons sparking as steel and claw clashed between themselves. Her tattoos pulsed as she weaved between attacks, sending out small frost bursts to break his tempo.
Emory stayed back, positioning himself as support, highly alert against the first demoness.
He thrust a hand forward, conjuring a concentrated beam of golden light, shooting it past Alistair to force the tiara-wearing Demoness on the defensive.
She raised a barrier of shadows, but the light scorched the edge of her cloak, forcing her to reposition.
She smirked.
"Come now, boys," she said as her hands extended outward, dark tendrils twisting between her fingers. "Don't you want to see what's hiding behind the mirror?"
Alistair pressed forward, blades blurring in twin arcs of radiant steel and dawn. His strikes left shimmering streaks in the air, aimed to box the two Demonesses in with no escape.
The tiara-bearing Unaging narrowed her eyes and gave a subtle flick of her dark coat.
Shadows surged from beneath Alistair.
They coiled up like ink made flesh, slithering around his arms, legs, chest, locking tight and dragging him down like prey caught in a sinkhole. His momentum halted with a jarring snap, muscles straining as the darkness constricted his limbs.
Before the Unaging could capitalize and Alistair sunk any more, a searing brilliance burst outward, like a miniature sun igniting within the hall.
Emory stood tall, with raised palms, his eyes gleaming with divine fire as his Unshadowed Domain took shape. Golden-white light washed over the area, dissolving every trace of shadow into harmless motes of steam.
The chains around Alistair burned away and the air cleared.
Alistair exhaled sharply, thankfully nodding as he resumed his stance.
Emory's voice cut through the burning haze, steady and unyielding:
"Your pitiful instigation bears no fruit here, demoness. God says it's ineffective!." A bright ring of light appeared atop behind his head as he fiercely addressed the demonesses as his targets.
With a smooth motion, he summoned another pillar of purifying light, slamming it down where the Demonesses stood.
The Unaging narrowed her eyes and twisted, hands rotating in a complicated arc. Space shimmered, the incoming beam curved unnaturally away from her path and slammed into a support beam behind, turning stone into a glowing slag.
The second Demoness, somersaulted away, her feet skimming the surface of the floor as she evaded the strike by a hair's breadth. Her body exuded a wild, restless heat, edged with purple-black mist that crackled at her fingertips.
Then the air thickened.
The sweet-sour stench of corruption began to spread, with pathogens, invisible and malicious, swirling around like airborne knives.
The Unaging laughed softly.
"You'll burn in silence soon enough."
But Emory's Domain held.
The glow of the Unshadowed Domain warped the poison, dispersing most of it like smoke before a wind. The pathogens still lingered, enough to slow down their movements after some time.
Alistair could feel the edge of it. His breath tightened slightly.
"Watch your lungs," he muttered.
Emory nodded once, already shifting to intercept the next move.
Emory surged forward beside Alistair, their steps now in tandem, blades and light sweeping in great coordination. But the Demonesses didn't meet them with fury, they defended and danced, with enough area just enough to move subtly toward the sealed room holding their objective.
Alistair's eyes narrowed. "They're angling for the cell."
Emory noticed it too, tightening his grip on sword. "We hold them here."
But before they could act, a slow stiffness crept into their limbs.
Alistair's fingers faltered. Emory's stride slowed and their joints locked like cold metal, every movement thick and heavy.
"Petrification…" Emory muttered, his tone grim.
The Demoness of Despair lunged, her curved blade gleaming with frost, drawn for a killing strike. But Emory moved first.
With a sharp breath using all of his remaining strength, he pulled a dark sliver of wood from inside his coat. Without hesitation, he stabbed it into his own arm, spilling blood onto it.
The piece of wood pulsed and grew.
In seconds, it expanded into a gnarled staff, rough and ancient, coated in dried sap and dark bark. Slamming it into the floor, roots and vines exploded outward, bursting through wood, metal, and stone. The creeping flora lashed out, intercepting the Demoness mid-charge, binding around her limbs and forcing her back.
With a grimace, Emory wrenched the staff free from the ground. Its surface glowed faintly green. He swept it sideways, waves of soothing energy washed over him and Alistair. The petrification melted from their limbs, their muscles reinvigorated, breath returning sharp and full.
Alistair flexed his grip, grinning. "That's more like it."
But across the room, the obsidian tiara on the Unaging's brow began to tighten, pricking her scalp with invisible spikes. She gritted her teeth as blood traced down her temples, but raised a steady hand.
A single flower of pristine ice bloomed in her palm, perfect and symmetrical.
She threw it, gifting it to them.
Bribe - Weaken!
It detonated midair, scattering blight-laced frost across the vines and light. The fauna wilted. Even Emory's Unshadowed Domain and Justice Halo dimmed, flickering like a candle caught in wind.
Within the Unaging's eyes, Emory's reflection twisted within it, being enveloped in a curse.
He grunted, blood bursting from his lips, as he felt the freezing curse sink into his veins. His limbs began to tremble again.
But he held the staff tight, with blazing eyes.
"God says it's ineffective!"
Light surged up his spine and into the staff. With a low cry, he reversed the curse's effects, and the staff's healing powers stabilized his blood once more.
But that window of weakness was all the Demoness of Despair needed.
She dashed toward the locked door, now visibly weakened by the surrounding frost and the domain's fading strength. With a gleam in her eye, she unfolded a mirror in her hand, reflecting the sealed door upon it.
The walls groaned. The door and its frame began to crack and frost over, black flames licking across the symbols etched upon it.
With a roaring cry, she encased her fist in jagged ice and smashed it into the half-frozen surface.
BOOM.
The door burst open.
Inside, chained to the lavish bed, was Priscilla, weakened but conscious. Her hair fell in tangled waves around her shoulders, her wrists rough from the chains.
"Stop!," she hissed, warning with urgency. "Don't get any closer. There is an artifact in this area."
The Despair entered the room and stopped just before the boundary, as her spiritual intuition guided.
Her silk threads whipped forward, wrapping around the chains and channeling black fire through them. The restraints groaned, cracking and melting.
Snap.
The chains shattered.
Priscilla stood, moving away from the area. The circle underneath below flared, but the residual curses from the broken chains tainted the symbols, interfering just enough for her to step free.
The Unaging appeared in the opening, leaving behind some mirror shards, followed closely by the arrival of Emory and Alistair.
They both froze.
Arriving within the prison room, they found that their prisoner was freed.
The three Demonesses stood together now. "You look shocked," the Unaging cooed. "What's wrong, soldiers? Stuck in a mirror, outnumbered, overpowered, and…" She leaned forward. "...still bleeding."
The Demoness of Despair giggled darkly. "Should we take our time?"
But their smiles faltered.
Emory and Alistair… were smiling back.
A sudden chill ran down the Demonesses' spines.
Behind them, where the chains had broken, the air twisted.
From the cracked floor, new chains erupted, glowing with a sinister violet light. They shot upward, attempting to ensnare all three women.
The Unaging reacted instantly, her tiara distorting the chains' trajectory, dodging them by a breath.
Priscilla moved even faster, twisting mid-step, her honed instincts carrying her clear of the trap.
But the Demoness of Despair turned too late.
The chains latched around her legs, then her waist, then her arms.
A creaking sound followed.
A doll, formed of blackened wood and involved with twisted chains, rose from the shattered floor. Its crooked grin split its face, its hollow eyes wide and unblinking as it stared at the captured Demoness.
The chains tightened with a wet, snapping sound. The doll's smile stretched wider, with its edges being clear to see from beneath the chains on its face..
She screamed, once, before the sound was drowned in hissing steel.
With the arrival of the Shackled Marionette, its chains coiling like sentient serpents and its hollow eyes gleaming with unnatural clarity, the air fractured.
Not merely shifted, but shattered.
A noise like glass imploding from within echoed across the warped corridors.
The Mirror World cracked.
Its silence collapsed.
The unnatural calm, the cave-like emptiness, all of it exploded outward, splintering like fragile porcelain.
And in an instant, the world reformed.
The outpost returned to its rightful place, nestled in the dense forest outskirts near Misren, with moonlight piercing through the treetops and the scent of pine in the air.
The two remaining Demonesses froze mid-breath.
Their eyes widened.
"…We've been expelled…," the Unaging muttered, her voice tight. "... from the Mirror World."
The Doll, half-submerged in the shattered runes and twitching with chain-like spasms, let out a slow, grating giggle, one that didn't come from its mouth but echoed directly into their minds.
Behind it, Emory Vale's halo erupted to life once more, brilliant and holy, forming the image of an unshadowed sun above his head, painting the trees and stone walls in gold and white.
Beside him, Alistair Caine's twin blades ignited in a swirl of azure flames, his face split in a fierce, triumphant grin. He let out a roar, a bellow that rang through the clearing like a warhorn.
Their connection to the Chain of Command had returned.
Their General's will surged within them once more.
Emory stepped forward, radiance surrounding him like a solar cloak.
"Well," he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips, "looks like we're back under jurisdiction."
The Unaging hissed, eyes flicking toward the forest.
Emory's smirk widened.
"Oh, don't even think about it. The Forest's sealed. Our Commander doesn't do half-measures."
The Demoness of Despair, still partially bound in cracked chains, snarled, her glamour faltering beneath the weight of the artifact.
Alistair spun his swords in a lazy arc, then leveled them both forward. "Go on, try it. Let's see what your little bribes and curses do now."
Behind them, the Shackled Marionette shifted again, its chains moving through the air like puppet strings. The space around it remained warped, its very existence still tethered to the abyss it crawled out from.
And as Emory and Alistair advanced, reinvigorated and ablaze, Emory added with a scoff:
"Tell your sister she should've stayed in bed."