One second it stood, the next it was ash, burned into nothing by the pressure of Ghira's bracelets as they spun like a wheel of stars.
The guards remained standing, their eyes empty, unmoving. They were corpses that hadn't fallen yet, and for reasons Tom couldn't fathom, she hadn't commanded them forward.
However, One enemy was more than enough.
Johan raised his sword, flames curling across the steel. His blue fire bent the air, each flicker like a blade of heat sharper than steel. He stared at Ghira, unblinking. "Tom, don't hesitate. If you see an opening, you strike, better if it's a critical."
Tom nodded, though his throat was dry. His Face shimmered into existence beside him on the chair, watching him silently. He asked under his breath, "What should I do?"
The Face did not answer. Its hollow eyes just stared. Seemed like a stalker. Tom was frustrated to react as a fly passed between them.
"Nevermind," Tom muttered and held his dagger. The fame of axis and gravity was standing.... or sitting.... whatever, beside him.
Ghira smiled, bracelets orbiting faster, the violet sparks turning into burning chains of light. "Two little sparks. Two moths with fire in their bellies. Do you know what happens when moths fly into suns?"
The fight started in a storm.
Johan didn't wait for a moment to finish her speech. His sword bursting like a star in blue flame. It hissed the midair as if reality itself didn't want to hold the heat. He swung for Ghira's chest.
She caught it with one hand while bare fingers.
The flame tried to rush against her skin, licking her wrist, trying to eat through. Her rainbow hair burned brighter, reflecting the fire like stained glass. She smirked, not even blinking.
"Blue? How cute," she whispered.
Then her bracelets spun, snapping outward. A violet wave burst from her body, flinging Johan back through two miles. He hit the ground hard, coughing blood, his sword still burning.
Tom's Face flickered into existence sitting on a chair beside him. Its silence held worse than any wound.
"What do I do?" Tom asked under his breath, panic bubbling.
No answer came from the Gentlesoul.
"Damn you," he muttered.
Ghira stepped forward, her bracelets spiraling. Every step left scars of flame on the floor.
Tom raised his dagger, his body shaking. He flicked his fingers. The Air rotated, a circle spinning like a wheel. He forced it toward her, the rotation slicing like invisible blades.
She stopped it. Looked at the spiral. Walked straight through it.
"Your little tricks," she said, her voice like velvet knives, "are nothing but toys."
Tom's heart raced. He twisted again, this time pulling the rotation under her foot. The ground buckled as she stumbled half a step. Johan was already up, charging, blade slowly igniting hotter.
"NOW!" Tom yelled.
Johan slashed low. Tom flicked another rotation behind the slash, amplifying the momentum. The sword tore forward faster than normal, screaming through the air.
It cut Ghira's peplos, drawing sparks against her skin.
Her smile widened.
"You boys play well together," she said. "But tell me… what happens when your toys melt?"
Her bracelets whirled faster, summoning violet flames that didn't crackle like fire. They sung together, like a choir at a funeral. She snapped her fingers.
A sphere of violet flame swallowed the air, detonating.
Tom rotated it instantly forcing its explosion to reverse, imploding into a thin point of nothing. The blast vanished midair like it didn't exist.
His knees buckled, sweat dripping down his temple. "Argh, I feel weak." he whispered.
Johan understood, the force that Tom caused to reverse a High Tier attack being a low tier drained his psychic energy.
Her hand reached for his throat, glowing violet. Johan crashed into her, sword cleaving down. She blocked with her arm. Flesh seared. The smell of burning skin filled the air. She didn't flinch.
"Do you know why your fire fails, Guardian?" she whispered into Johan's face, pushing him back. "Because my flames are not bound by heat. Your heat is warmer, lad. Bring it on already!"
She shoved him back with a wave of violet, his sword dimming under her light.
Tom gasped for air. He flicked his fingers—three rotations snapped into existence. One around her feet, one above her head, one behind her spine. They twisted like gears, pulling her body awkwardly.
Her bracelets spun, cutting each rotation apart like silk threads.
But it gave Johan the window.
He rushed again, sword blazing brighter, shifting from blue into streaks of black at its edges. He slashed a wide arc, Tom boosting it with a spiral at the last moment. The blade connected, cutting deep into her shoulder.
Dark blood, the floor bathed by the stingy, venomous blood.
Ghira staggered a bit. It was the first time, she looked at her wound. Her smile didn't fade. If anything, it grew even more.
"Good," she purred. "Good, draw blood. Make me feel again."
Her bracelets screamed. She swung her arm, and a storm of violet fire erupted, shredding through walls, snapping beams like twigs. Johan blocked with his sword, the blue flame clashing against violet in a storm of colors.
Tom twisted space itself by rotating the violet fire into thin, harmless streams but each time he did, his body weakened. His vision blurred.... his knees shook.
Think.... Think.... Not brute force.... Creativity.
He remembered the lore.
"The Ocean that bestowed light."
Ghira's name written there. Beautiful, innocent, caring. Emperor Wactj's wife.
Is it the same woman? Or just a mask wearing her name? He didn't know.
She knew she was going to kill them all like animals.
"Johan!" Tom shouted. "Combo-high swing!"
Johan nodded, rushing forward again. He swung upward, his sword slashing for her neck. Tom rotated his momentum mid-air, snapping the swing into a downward strike instead. The fake-out caught Ghira—her bracelets blocked high, but the blade came low, biting into her ribs.
Violet fire exploded outward. The shockwave threw Tom back into a wall, blood pouring from his nose.
Ghira staggered again, blood dripping, her bracelets spinning violently now. Sounding like chainsaw's sound around your home at midnight when your alone. Her rainbow hair shimmered brighter, almost blinding everyone's sight.
"Do you think this matters? That your scratches change the tide? I gave my body to birth empires. And now? I will take it back."
Her bracelets fused, merging into one massive ring of violet fire, floating behind her head like a halo.
Arlong was still in the corner.
Praying.
Then the bow in his lap, splintered and useless just moments before, snapped back into shape. The wood looked ancient, but better, turning slightly like veins under skin. The string pulsed faintly as if it had a heartbeat.
Johan glanced mid-fight. "What the hell—Arlong, now's not the time for—"
But Arlong stood, lifting the bow. His voice was low. "Time is exactly what I've bargained for."
Tom blinked, stunned, even as blood dripped from his nose. " Huh? what are you talking about?"
Arlong didn't answer. He notched an arrow that wasn't there and from the bow's string, darkness bled, condensing into a jagged arrowhead. The thing looked like it was carved from silence itself, drinking in all sound nearby.
He drew it back.
The world dimmed.
When he let go, the arrow didn't fly. It slipped through layers of space, like it wasn't obeying rules at all. It reappeared midair, point-first, grazing Ghira's halo of violet flame.
The flame sputtered.
For half a moment, her bracelets lost rhythm.
Johan roared and rushed in with the sword ablaze. Tom twisted the angle of his swing with a spiral, forcing the strike deeper. His sword bit into her side.
Ghira staggered backwards. Her blood spattering the ground in violet arcs. She turned her head slowly, eyes locking on Arlong and brought out a smile.
"So. You're the hidden one."
Arlong notched another shadow-arrow, his voice steady but eerie. "My arrows don't pierce flesh. They pierce the thread that ties you to yourself."
Tom felt a chill. "What does that mean?"
"Means she bleeds differently when I aim," Arlong muttered. He loosed another arrow. This one sliced past her cheek. Her rainbow hair dimmed for a blink, as if the arrow had stolen a fragment of her light.
Ghira's bracelets spun violently, her laugh breaking into hysterics. "Good! GOOD! Break me! Strip me apart! I welcome it!"
She lifted her arms. Dozens of purple stars shimmered into existence, each boiling with heat beyond measure. The air distorted, bending around them.
"Stars, never should exist," Johan muttered, stepping back slowly.
"Move!" Tom shouted.
They just dodged. Johan rolling hard, his sword cutting one in half before it vaporized a canyon. Tom twisted his spirals, redirecting two of them off-course but one clipped his shoulder. Flesh sizzled, blood bursted as the star pierced upper part of his shoulder clean leaving embers and ashes. He got injured, clenching his teeth.
Arlong stood still, loosing another arrow. The shot collided with one of the stars and instead of exploding, the star dimmed, shrinking into nothing before impact.
Johan glanced at him mid-fight. "What the hell are those arrows made of?"
Arlong didn't blink. "Some calls it divine, someone miracle, blessings, for me it's just a bundle of curses."
Ghira tilted her head back, laughing like a woman at a wedding gone mad. Her bracelets spun so fast they blurred, violet flames spiraling. Space itself was burning. The horizon crumbled, collapsing into ash.
Tom's chest tightened. He saw it. Her skin was cracking inside. Her form…. was warping. Horns? No, shadows of horns. A flicker of tail? Something was showing. She wasn't just human anymore.
Johan growled through clenched teeth. "She's—"
Ghira cut the curse with raw flame, her laugh spiraling into shrieks. "Yes, say it. Call me what I am. You already feel it."
Her bracelets slammed together. A surge of violet light built in her chest, hotter, louder, brighter.
Arlong's eyes widened. "She's charging something!"
Tom staggered to his feet, Face glowing faintly beside him. He rotated the air wildly, preparing to deflect. Arlong loosed three arrows in quick succession, their curses tearing faint cracks into Ghira's aura.
It was too late....
She screamed crazier in a mournful way.
A violet-white blast erupted from her body, a gama explosion so violent the desert shook like glass shattering. The sky split in every direction. Flames rolled out across ten thousand kilometers, annihilating mountains, vaporizing the lands, buildings, space, creating violent storms and thunders, erasing everything.
It was like an artificial supernova brightening the night for seconds.
They were twenty thousand kilometers away from the bunker. Yet, everyone there felt the aura, especially.... Radahn.