The clash reached its peak in a ferocious duel between Safira and the spider queen.
The nest reverberated with the clamor of combat—a suffocating maze of silk and shadow—while the colossal creature loomed before her, its many eyes reflecting the shine of the flames.
WOOSH! WOOSH!
Sticky webbing shot out like invisible claws, trying to entomb her in a coffin of silk.
Safira slipped aside. Her feet skimmed the snared ground, her agility the only shield against the creeping death.
"I've got something for you!"
As the queen flung her webs, Safira answered with fire.
FSSHHH!
The flames clung to the strands like a devouring blight, turning them into a spectacle of incandescent sparks. The nest screamed.
The sound wasn't human. It was horrible.
The spider queen recoiled for an instant, her legs rattling the tacky floor. But the retreat didn't last. She lunged again, grotesque limbs sliding through the fire like living shadows.
Safira growled.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Bursts of fire hammered the monster, striking its legs, burning the jointed limbs with a nauseating crackle of charred flesh and popping chitin. But the wretch wouldn't fall.
The legs scythed forward, turning like sickles poised to carve her apart.
Safira felt her body grow heavy. Sweat slicked her skin; her mana dwindled with each brutal cast.
But retreat wasn't an option.
She's wounded. This is my chance!
She drew a deep breath, lungs searing with the stench of burned flesh and silk. Then she gathered everything she had left.
Magic converged in her hands.
A crackling sphere of fire formed, pulsing like a second heart in her palms. Her insides seemed to burn with it.
With a cry, she let it fly.
BOOM!
The explosion shook the nest.
Heat swallowed the creature in an incandescent embrace.
The spider roared—a sound that shouldn't exist, a sound that thrummed in the pit of Safira's stomach. Its body writhed, legs flailing, venom boiling in its fangs until, at last…
It fell.
Hairy limbs folded; the many eyes went dull; flesh steamed.
The dead don't crawl.
Safira panted, shoulders heaving, chest burning. She was slick with sweat, spider blood, and scraps of black silk.
And from the far end of the nest, the cultist smiled.
"Your turn!"
The snap of her fingers cracked through the chamber like a whip.
"Not yet, sweetheart."
From the shadows, something monstrous rose.
Another.
Another queen.
Safira clenched her teeth, muscles screaming with fatigue.
But she didn't waver.
This time, she was ready.
The monster charged.
WOOSH!
But Safira was already casting. The flaming sphere was born before the spider even hit the ground.
FSSHHH!
Fire tore through the creature before it could cast a single strand. This time, there would be no fight.
The beast howled, its legs clawing at the floor—too late.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Flames danced over its carapace, burning the queen before she could even grasp that she had lost.
She toppled.
The nauseating stink filled the nest, and the other spiders hesitated.
Fear had been imposed.
From above, the cultist snarled between her teeth.
Tsk, this brat never gets tired?
But deep down, she knew. She knew what Safira truly was.
"Enough spiders!"
Safira didn't wait. She hurled fire in every direction.
The webs burned.
The eggs exploded.
The nest turned to ash.
And for the first time, the cultist didn't smile.
She's strong. Of course… she's with the man who killed Ghouv, after all.
But she wouldn't retreat.
The cultist's hands filled with mana.
"Don't think I'm like the spiders, girl. You won't kill me with a single strike."
She advanced.
Her feet slid over the ground as if she were dancing. Magical lines swirled around her, sharp as blades.
And they came.
SWIN!
Magic sliced the air like invisible razors, seeking to carve Safira to pieces.
But Safira was already responding.
She raised her hands and summoned her blade. Fire took solid form.
A sword of flame roared in her grip, and with a clean stroke she sheared the lines before they could touch her.
Sparks danced through the smoking wreckage.
She manipulates lines? Then she's a long-range fighter…
Safira lifted her gaze to the cultist.
They stood amid a scene of burning ruin, carbonized webs dropping from the ceiling, corpses strewn across the ground.
The cultist smiled.
"Interesting."
But Safira was already coming.
WOOSH! WOOSH! WOOSH!
The cultist moved like a living shadow, her dodges nimble, almost supernatural. Cutting lines danced around her, lethal as blades forged in the abyss itself.
Damned brat! the cultist's mind frothed with frustration. Does she really think she can beat me in a straight duel?
Safira didn't hesitate. Her fire roared.
She lifted one hand, and spears of flame materialized, snapping into being with incandescent glare.
FWOOSH!
The projectiles ripped through the gloom, streaking across the chamber like meteors.
The cultist spun at the last instant. Her magical lines braided into an ethereal wall, diverting the flames with cruel precision.
She laughed.
"So you can use more than fireballs? Heh."
Safira narrowed her eyes.
"You haven't seen anything."
The fight raged on—a maelstrom of heat and invisible steel.
The cultist's slicing lines whirled, every motion a measured strike aimed at Safira's flesh. She blocked, but the attacks were getting faster.
I need an opening.
So she did the unthinkable.
Her flaming sword dissolved.
The cultist's eyes widened for a heartbeat.
It was enough.
Safira surged forward.
Her body spun in the air; her heel dropped like a hammer, smashing into the cultist's abdomen with a solid impact.
CRACK!
Air burst from the cultist's lungs in a strangled gasp. She staggered.
The opening Safira needed. Flames gathered around her again, and a long, blazing sword was born in her hands, the fire coiling along the blade like hungry serpents.
She advanced. This time, without mercy.
Shit!
The cultist tried to respond, but Safira was relentless.
The blade carved through the magical lines, ripping her defense like rotted paper.
WOOSH!
The cuts were clean. Each strike eroded the cultist's focus.
Then came the finishing blow.
The burning blade found flesh.
SHLUCK!
The incandescent edge pierced the cultist's abdomen; the air filled with the stink of searing meat and boiling blood.
She tried to retreat, to pull away, but her legs failed.
Safira frowned. "Why was she still on her feet?"
The cultist's body trembled, but she fought on. Her eyes lit with a ghostly gleam.
Damn it! She's just a child! How am I losing to her?! I… I am blessed by Braz'gallan! I refuse to fall here!
With a desperate roar, she conjured new slicing lines.
Safira dodged, but some still cut her skin. Thin red trails slid over her torn clothes.
She gritted her teeth.
Is she getting stronger?
Then she felt it.
Her mana was running out. The battle had reached its height.
The cultist persisted, each strike fiercer than the last, but Safira didn't yield. She drew a steady breath, emptied her mind, and gathered what remained.
A colossal sword of fire was born in her hands.
The cultist shuddered. "Stay away from me!"
But there was no escape.
She tried to cast one last spell—a final, frantic blow—but her arms faltered. Her body was spent, and Safira saw the opening.
She drove forward, and the blade found the cultist's heart.
CRACK!
The light drained from her eyes.
The magic unraveled into ash.
She fell.
Safira remained standing, shoulders rising and falling, lungs clawing for oxygen as if she'd crossed an ocean of fire.
She looked down at the fallen cultist. It was over.
Flames danced around her fingers; then the sword unraveled. Safira dropped to the ground on her backside, muscles finally giving in to exhaustion—and then she laughed.
A low, ragged, almost hysterical laugh.
She had won, but the euphoria faded fast.
BOOOOM!
The floor behind her erupted.
Safira rolled aside at the last second, the blast flinging a wave of dust and debris into the air.
She pushed up quickly, heart racing—and then she saw him.
At the far edge of the nest, a silhouette rose in the haze. He was tall, wrapped in dark robes, his hands still shining with mana—but it was his eyes that sent a chill down Safira's spine.
Pure hatred.
"You…" The voice was deep, shaking, dripping with fury. "Did you kill my sister?!"
Blades of mana formed around him, sharp as a wolf's fangs.
And the fight began again.