The battlefield had quickly become a grave. Ash was continuously raining from the skies like dying embers, drawing down upon the ground.
The once serene water now churned with black ichor and corrupted mana, glowing runes crackling in the air like fractured veins of lightning.
Headmistress Raphaeline was standing in the air, staring at the Hydra.
Her black horns curled back like twin crescents, veins of crimson light pulsing beneath obsidian skin. Her long hair shimmered like flowing midnight flame, and her eyes, oh, her eyes, were bottomless crimson voids, their centers spinning with rings of arcane truth and madness.
Her back bore two immense wings made not of flesh but of shadow and ancient sigils, shifting like smoke caught in starlight.
Her mana was a thunderstorm given form.
A Demoness at the highest order. The students who remained conscious, and sane enough to comprehend what they were seeing, could only stare, awestruck.
