Britannia | 1,500 Years Ago | Castle ???
Moonlight slants through a ruined window, casting fractured color across a throne room strewn with the bodies of dead knights. Celeste sits on the marble throne, her black robe tattered, arms ribboned with blood. Beside her rests a shattered scythe.
At her feet kneels a grotesque creature— one massive body, three dying heads: a wolf to the left, a horse to the right, and an eagle in the center. The eagle spits blood onto the tiles.
"You are the disciple of that mage!" it rasps. "Why are you not dying? Say it!"
Celeste's gaze is glassy, almost vacant. "Finis Miseriae—end of misery."
A shadow‑reaper unfurls behind the creature, silent.
"Even if Arthur and Merlin are gone." she says, voice hollow but steady, "Their teachings live in me. I will kill you all."
Fear slicks the monster's fur. "We are attacking in force— Var'kath is destroyed, and now it's Britannia's turn and the remnants of your deceased King—"
Celeste raises one hand toward the window. Outside, starfalls streak the night. Blood trickles from her eyes.
A dystopian view.
"Die."
The monster stares at the magic, terrified.
"What kind of magic—"
The reaper's blade arcs once. Three heads tumble. Silence devours the hall. Celeste rises, hefts her ruined scythe.
"Arthur, Merlin… I wish I could follow you, but I still have business to do."
Emberium | Fountain Square
A collapsing gravity well warps the plaza: cobblestones spiral upward, benches twist mid‑air. Celeste and Ryusaki stand at its heart, glaring like comets— still clashing.
Celeste darts back.
The explosion shatters the academy into a thousand pieces.
Ryusaki flares pitch‑black wings. "Quite strong." he pants. "I expected less."
Celeste laughs, ecstatic.
He survived that? Mephisto whispers in her mind.
"All in, Mephisto." she says, giddy. "This will be fun."
She twirls once. "Ultima Ratio — Physical!"
Scarlet light erupts. A dragon-sigil brands itself on her wrist, her veins glowing red.
Ryusaki answers, "Chord — Kuro." His sword and wings darken until no light escapes their edges.
"I hope you're worth it." he growls.
Celeste smirks. "You're just another brat to kill."
In a blink, she appears before him, scythe plunging through his abdomen. She kicks— blasting him skyward. He can't even gasp. Snap— she's above him, one blink later. Her scythe cuts through his heart. He plummets, shattering the roof of the grand library.
Snap. She is already inside, looking like a reaper. She uprights a toppled chair, sits down gracefully, and rests the scythe across her knees.
Shattered shelves smolder around the crater where Ryusaki lands.
"Mephisto, do your thing." she murmurs.
The reaper looms over Ryusaki. "He's already dead." Mephisto says.
"Waste of energy. But just to be sure." Celeste flicks her fingers. "Behead him anyway—"
The reaper prepares the execution, scythe raised to sever Ryusaki's head— but he lurches upright, seizing the reaper's scythe barehanded. The weapon shivers in his grip, frozen.
Celeste's eyes narrow. "You're not undead. How did you survive?" she shakes her head. "Honestly? I should have expected that."
Ryusaki wipes blood from his mouth and laughs. "Have you ever wondered what kind of magic I wield?"
"Life‑force sorcery." she guesses.
"It'd spoil the fun to explain. But close." He presses a palm to the wound in his abdomen, smearing blood across his fingers. "Time to escalate this situation."
He drags blood through the air like ink on parchment. "Shinryū—Kuro."
A gore‑slick mass boils behind him, shaping itself into a dragon with blade‑edged wings. Before the creature can fully form, Ryusaki swings his sword and cleaves it in half— absorbing its life in a rush of black fire. Scales bloom across his skin, forming a living cuirass.
"You should have isolated me." he says. "You know my ideals. I will never show mercy for the greater good."
Celeste rises ."Mephisto—Chain Break."
"He's serious now." she says, eyes gleaming. "This will be a bloodbath."
A black aura floods from her pores. She lifts the scythe. "A friend once told me nature obeys rules. I prefer to break them." She spreads her arms. "Revelio."
Dark matter whirls, molding the reaper into a titan cloaked in skulls. A star-like yellow crest forms over her heart.
"Mephisto—Rising."
The reaper hovers at her flank.
Ryusaki rushes in with no spell— just raw speed. His sword slams into Celeste's scythe; sparks shriek. She counters, but his scaled armor absorbs the blow. The reaper sweeps in to sever his neck— its blade skitters off his scales.
"Tough." Mephisto hisses.
Celeste pivots, heel snapping toward Ryusaki's neck. His skin is as hard as diamond. He surges forward and kicks her to the library wall.
"I recall stories." he growls, pressing the attack. "Legends the Circle tried to bury— about a woman who slaughtered kingdoms. About a knight who became a magician."
Celeste meets his weight, scythe groaning in her grip. "Stories exaggerate." she replies, cold and dreadful. "I only slaughter those who don't know when to die. That's my business!"
Ryusaki brute-forces through her defense and drives his sword straight through her chest, the tip splitting her heart. He withdraws it, pivots, and cleaves again— Celeste falls in two blood‑slick halves.
"Weak. I expected more." he mutters.
Yet the black aura she summoned refuses to fade. Frowning, Ryusaki channels mana into his eyes— no illusion. Celeste's bisected corpse steams at his feet. He kneels to touch the cooling flesh—
—and a thundercrack splits the rafters.
Celeste plunges from the ceiling, Mephisto at her side. Ryusaki raises his guard too late. The impact hurls him through a wall into the main hall.
Dozens of mages are waiting on the library's ten shattered levels, their staffs trained on Ryusaki.
A tall librarian— blonde hair, chess‑patterned jacket— steps forward. "Ryusaki, you'll die trying to twist the Magic Circle to your ideals!"
From every floor, voices echo the incantation. "Erif—"
A titanic fireball condenses beneath the library. Ryusaki chuckles, raises his sword to counter— and freezes. Skeletal hands burst from the marble, anchoring his ankles.
Celeste walks slowly towards him.
"Mephisto—Bone Shield."
Bone shields encase the mages. Celeste leaps again, scythe whistling, and smashes the anchored Ryusaki square in the chest. His cuirass cracks, but he clamps his left hand around her weapon, grinning.
"FAFNIR—Gisei!" Ryusaki shouts.
The fireball descends. Bone shields hold. Heat floods the hall, vaporizing the marble. White flames swallow Ryusaki— yet leave bookshelves intact. When the glare fades, only charred scales and drifting ash remain where he stood.
Celeste yanks, but the scythe is still clenched in his hands. As smoke clears, behind Ryusaki is a blood-drawn ring. He stands, unfazed. Around him, every mage who cast the spell lies desiccated— nothing left but polished skeletons.
Blood sluices across Ryusaki, healing his skin and injuries.
His scales glimmer where the fireball struck moments earlier, now a fully mended breastplate. Resting his blade on one shoulder, tilts his head.
"Have you guessed my secret now?"
Celeste snaps. Her scythe dematerializes from his grip. It reappears beside her and balances onto the burned marble. Celeste lifts her restored weapon. "I see it." Those wings aren't for show. One glance, one heartbeat, and life drains away. A parasite's miracle."
Ryusaki yawns . "You're strong enough to understand the reason. Surrender, and the killing ends. I won't need to spend another life to defeat you."
Dark laughter ripples from Mephisto. Celeste echoes it, soft and vicious. "Funny thing about surrender— every nation that bows loses more civilians than those that keep the fight going. If I kneel now, chaos follows. More death. More rot. Casualties be damned, Ryusaki. I'll kill you here— whatever the cost."
His eyes narrow. "You speak from experience?"
She blinks, vision wavering. For an instant, she sees a knight in cobalt armor— golden eyes steady beneath a crown. She whispers "Arthur… the only king I ever trusted. The only one worthy of power."
Ryusaki exhales and nods with determination. "Xe Na Vi—Or Si Tu!"
His wings snap open, and the air fills with distant screams— cold and full of pain.
Celeste plants her feet. "Then we continue."
"A pity." he replies, raising his sword. "But I have dreams to pursue."
Celeste nods "And I have some business to finish.".