Out Of The Oven, Into The Fire [Medeia]

Her attack had hit its mark and his painful shrieks were pure bliss to the angel’s ears. It was rare that anyone could take a fully powered strike from her sickle unscathed and it seemed that he was no exception. His shoulder was in tatters, leaving a horrible and ugly gash that was already seeming to rot. Good, he deserved all that and more but more than that, it was all she needed to press forwards. It was a sign of weakness on his part and the inner predator that lurked within the fallen being was being drawn out. The fact she was in force amplified that of course and the look in her eyes could probably have melted lead. He was no longer an opponent, he was her prey and as the anger continued to build, her power only grew further. She would carry out every thread that had come from her lips during the confrontation. Him. His guild. The people who resided nearby. She would destroy them all and they would die in the most violent and twisted ways. Vengeance was something that she knew a great deal about although it had been some time since she had felt its pull so strongly.

There was something else too. A scent that was drawing her towards him. It was godly in nature and it seemed to churn the witches' powers. She despised her own kind with a passion and her powers had originally appeared due to her hatred for them. The slightest hint of their powers could set her off and for him to now suddenly start unleashing their hideous scent could not have been worse for the boy. He clearly was neither a god nor god slayer himself as she was but did he perhaps have the essence of a god within him? Had she not been so obsessed with his destruction, maybe she would have asked but any possible hint of curiosity that she might of had within her had been overridden by her want to annihilate him. It was only at the end of his pained ramblings that a name emerged. Hades. A deity of the dead, if she remembered correctly. Not one of her sect but still a god nonetheless. She had never encountered him before but that did not matter. Harming any god or angelic being was always pleasurable to her.

Words did briefly leave her then although they were hardly what he probably wished to hear. “To defeat my fellow angels and those who rule them has been my desire for so long. I recognise their stench upon you from that wound, boy. Go on. Have Hades keep trying to heal you. See how that works out for you. My attacks cannot be healed by him and will only deal you further damage. A god of death is no match for me, a being that has surpassed all other holy or unholy beings. I must thank him for inhabiting you though, as it just gives me another reason to wish for your death.”

If her sickle was not potent enough, a whip now formed in her other hand, blazing with purple angelic energy. Without any thought, she would crack her foul weapon towards him, hoping not only to catch him with a horrible lash but perhaps ensnare him too. She knew that her sickle had done severe damage but Medeia was not going to underestimate him. He was a Guildmaster after all and although she had little care for such titles, she assumed that he must be durable if he had the respect of those who followed him. Surely they would not follow someone who was weak.

(614 Words)
(13642 TWC)

It was no good… the wound wouldn’t stop pulsating. Damn it, Hades, he couldn’t even hear Mura’s beckoning for him to STOP pouring mana into his wound. How long would this last, anyway?! He was completely open, his guard wouldn’t protect him from the witch any longer! Even if Kyuken and Zirconis had their eyes upon her at all times, Mura was unable to move properly with the nasty torture stabbing into his shoulder.

Deep inside, he felt that the situation could only escalate from this point on. The Black Lily didn’t appear to be a woman who would ever feel remorse for a pained foe or one as distraught as he was at the moment, and she definitely didn’t hold any pity for him. It became harder and harder to believe that her sheer enmity of him was the result of one, lifted curse – he basically paused her little game, and it led to all of this.

True, he came to hate her a lot – there was no way he could develop any other opinion of her in this slight time they’ve even got to face each other – but to think that someone as ridiculous as her were wandering around Fiore was terrifying… say… what would… what would his predecessors have done in a situation like this? How could Mura draw from some of that same power that they did when pushed near death like this?

… He might’ve stopped himself from trying this plan out if he was any more clear-headed, but he began relying on an idea.

Inner Sanctum was still active!

It felt just a little thrilling, but sadly, he never noticed the shiver that travelled across his body, because it was monolithically overshadowed by the Black Lily’s newly-spawned whip of similar energy to her accursed sickle. And without mercy, she cracked it right at him, the burning whip travelling across his legs and boiling off his skin at contact, but…

She would’ve been able to hear it – a sudden, loud beat that resonated through the air around them. It felt like a single heartbeat, but a human’s heart shouldn’t beat that loudly, and even then, a single beat followed by silence signaled death. The whip was still around his legs, but… Mura’s face showed little pain. No, it showed trouble, but… it looked more like restraint than despair. It looked like he was holding back groaning from the burns. It looked like he was gritting his teeth, but over time, it suddenly looked like he was focusing on the black void that his closed eyes showcased him…

A void where he found himself deep inside his own core, struggling to ignore the pain. To hold it all within. It was like a last resort of opposition against the Black Lily – she might’ve had the upper hand of a giant now, but at the very least, he wouldn’t allow her to enjoy any sad looks from him. No, no, no… there was more to it than that.

The reason behind his almost passive state was because of the golden light. Yes, it was within the void of his mind, but his auric self held the light between his fingertips. How pathetic did he feel to resort to this spell all alone, without any of his mates in need of assistance, but it was do or die at this point. If that cunt would just lower her guard a bit more, or perhaps wear out of Force… but it would take time. He’d have to endure until the right moment showed itself.

He hadn’t noticed it yet, but his wedding ring began lighting up faintly too…

WC: 609
TWC: 14,251

The holy being was relentless, cracking her whip endlessly and causing the lower half of his body to turn a horrible shade of red, skin being removed with every lash. He barely seemed to react to her attacks but that made no difference to her and was certainly not going to cause her to stop her assault. Every lash was anger filled, fuelled by fury and the fires of her rage and she would be quite content to simply whip him to death right then and there. Every attack from her whip would feel like hell itself and there was no further form that she could take to increase her potency. This was her at her most powerful, when her takeover and force combined together to unleash her ultimate strength. The power that ran through her veins was so invigorating, allowing her to feel a euphoria that was difficult to describe. How often was it that she truly was able to just cut loose? Not often enough and she promised herself then and there that it would no longer be the case. All who walked this planet would know of her potential, starting with the boy laying in front of her. It would most definitely send a message to all those who followed the word of law and Medeia briefly pondered as to how she would display his defeated body. Maybe she should send it back to his wife or at least what was left of it, in a match box.

She began to close the gap between them, her whip continuing to lay waste to his form, a twisted smile finally breaking through. “I will make you suffer as Armina suffered, as every soul who has the law forced upon them suffers and as I have suffered. Every moment of pain that I have felt through my great lifespan will be carved into your body, one lash at a time. Go on. Groan, moan, cry out with pain. I know that is what you wish to do and if it takes me a thousand lashes for it to happen then I will do so.  Let us see how long that male ego of yours can hold out before you start squealing like a pig. I wonder what your guildmates would think if they saw you now, helpless and at the mercy of an Errings Rising mage. Perhaps I will ask them when I hunt down each and every one of them.” By the time she was finished, the name Fairy Tail would be wiped from the history books completely. A fitting fate.

A brief sound captured her attention, something akin to a heartbeat, resulting in a raised  eyebrow from Medeia. An unusual sound indeed and the witch pondered if it was perhaps a sign that he was out of magical power. It was a possibility but by no means the only one and so she did not for a moment let up with her assault. She would begin to spin her sickle with her right hand though, preparing to throw it at his unmoving body. With both her weapons of destruction, the end seemed to be near for him. There was barely anything from him now at all.

(539 Words)
(14790 TWC)

His legs couldn’t handle much more of this reckless beating. It really didn’t feel like she was running out of fuel any time soon, which begged the question; was he really durable enough to wait like this? He should’ve just released his spell now, just as a means to end the hellish beating he was handed…

That was when she began to talk again. It was a wonder that she even bothered to send words to a half-dead corpse, but it said a lot about her as a bastard. It really pissed him off, and he began to remember why he was holding out without moving… why he was, seemingly, just taking the punishment dealt by her. It was fairly simple, really; she wanted him to cry out, and he wanted to smear that belittling nature of hers all over her pretty face. Yeah, she’d have to catch him dead if she wanted to see a single drop of tear pour out from his eye. It wasn’t ego, it was madness.

“! … Y-You’ve got to be joking… r-right? Hua-” his voice cracked in the middle of his speech, not due to a fall in resolve or a surge of despair… but because of another person talking from that point on.

“Oh, splendid… he’s still whole. Can’t feel my- his legs, though… ew. Can’t say Mura didn’t need this; that’s what happens when you play the waiting game…” a far deeper, adult man’s voice echoed out from Mura’s lips, his eyes now shining silver-white as he slowly rose up on his butt and took a look over his lower body, “… What a shaaaaaame, really. You had such a good grasp on my heart, lady – you could’ve just been more honest with yourself.”

His hands were clapped together as a golden orb was suddenly held between, not solid in form but carrying enough mana to signify its potential danger to just about anyone in the area. “My apologies, Black Lily. My apologies for just having it in my heart to be an annoyance to you. It felt as if we were meant to struggle – we’re just not compatible. Surely, you’re patient and overbearing enough to forgive me… but, then again, the more I look at you… the less educated you appear. Saddening.” Kyuken’s voice was so composed, so unaffected by physical labours and the pains in his legs… and he wasn’t affected by her lure anymore.

“Male ego? You don’t have the facilities to talk about ego, and neither does your cute berserker. You’re just another wall.” The orb between his hands began to light up, enveloping both himself and the Black Lily in golden mana not belonging to either of them, “Every wall begs to be broken down… I’m sure you agree, in a way… Fairy-“

There was no going back now. The spell had been released, and Mura and Kyuken just had to put their lives on a bet that the forbidden spell would actually push the Black Lily back – or God permit, kill her – and give them a chance to do something else. Although, Mura wouldn’t come out unscathed by using this Guild Spell in his current condition… fuck it.

“-Law!”

And that was it. The entire land lit up in front of their eyes – every atom between Mura and the Black Lily was scourged by mana, every leaf and stone was bathed in mana, and every bird and lizard was drowning in mana, and yet the only creature allowed to be harmed by this spell was the fallen angel in front of him. Just her… only her, and no one else.

WC: 605
TWC: 15,395

All of the words that came from his mouth were wiped away with his spell. The orb in his hands exploded into life and the entire area around them became bathed in a golden light. Even her slayer enhanced sight struggled to handle the sheer brightness of it. A spell of the strongest kind for certain and as all of its power was turned against her, Medeia did what she always did and simply placed a hand in front of her, attempting to block it with the powers of her greatest defensive spell. Yet, it was far more powerful than she had realised and not only did her armour fail to block it but she was hit by such force that it began to shatter, its durability being shredded by the moment. With one final earth shattering show of strength, her armour would break, leaving her to take a great deal of the spells damage directly. Her body began to shine as it struck her and the shriek of pain that she produced then could have shattered the eardrums of those within a mile of her. The light cut through her, causing gashes of blood to burst from her limbs, body and face. Pain tore through her body, every moment of the spell sending horrific jolts of agony that could cause any ordinary mage to keel over and wither away to nothingness. Yet, she was no ordinary mage and even though the spell did a great amount of damage to her, she would not wither.

When the light finally stopped and the spell disappeared, she was still standing and although her armour was starting to reform, her wounds were clear to see. Her spell could only heal so much so soon and even she had to admit that she had underestimated him. Instead of feeling humbled though, she felt the rage and hatred for him increase by a factor of ten and as her fists clenched around her sickle, her words were fuelled with nothing but venom. “Your wall breaker was not enough, child. I am still standing and all you have done is increase the feelings of wrath and disgust that are flooding through my veins. You just cannot help but make things worse for yourself, can you? You are only giving me more reasons to despise you and I have come to realise that harming you is no longer enough to satisfy my rage. I am going to return to that town and drop a meteor so large that it will kill every living being in it. What? You thought that my words regarding doing such a thing were mere words? You moronic fool.”

Turning away from him, she would flap her wings a few times before rising up into the air and flying off, the occasional drops of blood painting the ground as she flew. The pain was still intense but she simply used it to fuel her hatred. Every single being in that town would be turned to dust and the sole reason for it happening was his interference. There were beings in this world that were better off being left alone and she was one of those. Perhaps if she caused enough carnage, he would finally understand that. If not, then she would destroy every town on the planet until he did. This was more than just him getting involved in her business, it was personal and making anything personal with a creature such as her was simply asking for pain, both physical and mental.

(591 Words)
(15986 TWC)

Damn it… he did hit her, square on. But even Fairy Law wasn’t enough to kill her.

Was she some kind of anomaly? An actual entity of divine authority? He was able to push her, but despite his efforts, she was still breathing. He cursed his yet lack of strength to finish the fight whenever it fucking counted – was there no satisfaction in the level of power he possessed today? Was he still so far away from ending a threat as monolithic as hers?

There was no continuing this fight on his part – he was hanging onto whatever amount of mana kept him from knocking at death’s door. It didn’t matter that she was harmed, for he had given it his all and she was still alive. That was a loss. He had lost the fight…

Again.

It was almost… unbelievable. It was sickening, too. She mentioned it, herself; his wall breaker wasn’t enough. He was barely able to stand up at this point, and his gaze towards her was… blank with disbelief. And her threat made his skin crawl. What an abhorring defeat he suffered…

His legs felt like being on fire, but he launched himself forward… yet it only allowed him to cover a few meters over the crumbled ground. She had already flown away… victorious yet enraged. A winner yet a mess.

But it was nothing compared to the mess she’d cause in Shirotsume… all because he couldn’t stop her. No… to think that she’d put the blame on him. Why did beings like her exist? As if fueled by the same emotion, he managed to lift himself up on his feet yet was on the verge of toppling back down at any moment. This was dangerous… if he used any more mana, he could accidently shut down his life signs and internal organs, which could end up sending him back to Hades.

Then why didn’t she just kill him here and now? The fact that she’d let Shirotsume suffer even more for his interference… the fact that she’d put the blame on him… it infuriated him. He hated her.

And he hated the drops of blood leading him along. It was her blood. She was badly hurt, wasn’t she? If only… if only he had more strength to spare… then he could turn her dripping blood to bones… and her bones to her soul… and erase her presence. And Shirotsume… they wouldn’t have to-

Damn it, body, move! She was flying out of range… and that was when his brain finally broke down. It needed to rest, and it prioritized that over everything else for this moment, while the sound of his unconscious body clapping the ground echoed across the empty, rocky biome that had lost a few hills during the battle that took place…

It was all black… just like the color of her hair. She shared quite something with Janet and Marceline, didn’t she?

She was another sorceress whom Mura hated more than anything else in this world… and this emotion was breaking him. He thought that the traumas of his past defeat at the hands of Marceline had finally closed up, the scars were about to fade away, and then they were ripped back open like this. It was clear to see that this emotion didn’t complement anything that made Mura who Mura was.

He wasn’t a person that harbored hatred in his heart…?

WC: 571
TWC: 16557

Livid beyond belief, the angel would continue on her way, the healing effects of her defensive spell slowly starting to repair the damage that his powerful spell had caused. In truth, she had never been hit with such force and the pain from the blow was still wracking through her. Had that been a guild spell of some description? She could not say for certain but surely it must have been. To break through her defences was not something that any old spell could accomplish and she begrudgingly had to admit again that she had underestimated the boy. Still, the fact that she had been able to take his attack so well only proved her superiority further and the immense amount of self confidence that she possessed only increased further. Her power was at a level that few could ever hope to reach and she was more than prepared to show it once again. A price had to be paid for his interference, one that could not be extracted from him personally. It had to come from elsewhere, where he could fully see the consequences of his actions.

She did not encounter that many people below her as she flew but for the poor mortals who did, the result would be unpleasant. Her whip would return to her hand and with each mighty lash, another poor fool would be robbed of their life. There was no hope of them living from such a blow and besides a small scream from each target, not a single sound could be heard, other than the crack of her whip. On another day, she may have spared them but not today. No one remained standing and it was with that impulse driving her on that she slaughtered every man and woman she flew over, leaving a trail of corpses for the boy to find. He would come sooner or later and there would certainly be a great deal for him to do. If he had the strength to do it.

Eventually, she caught sight of the town once more and as she approached, the sounds of screaming could once more be heard. The remaining locals of the town knew precisely what they were in for and desperately attempted to flee for their lives as soon as they saw her form in the sky, darting into their houses as the holy being once more flew over the town. That would not save them of course and after considering her options for a moment, she would fly higher and higher, until she was far enough above the town that she could cast one of her more potent spells. It required a little time but with the brown haired boy not yet in sight, she began to chant, a mass of purple coloured magical energy beginning to form. It was a spell that was not made to control the minds or souls of its victims. No, it was for pure desolation and as the mass grew and grew, a smile crossed Medeia’s features. She would wipe out every living being in this town in one large attack. Perhaps then she would be satisfied and perhaps then, the Fairy Tail guild master would learn his lesson.

(539 Words)
(17096 TWC)

… He was sleeping.

His body had given up, it had found its limit and closed his brain down for a nap. Almost blissfully, as if he was really dead, he rested his wounds away, but it would take longer than just a few minutes… and his nerves were thrown in whack at the sound of distant, blood-curdling cries. Cries that he could’ve prevented had he been… more powerful. More convincing. Deadlier than her and strong enough to erase her. His loss lead to those cries at the hands of the Black Lily… how ashamed the Saint of Fortitude felt that day…

Deep inside, as if he had nothing left in him, he began begging and praying for the cries to stop. It was torturous to hear them reach his ears from this far away, and the bloodthirst could be sniffed from several miles around. Was she intent on murdering every living being on her way back to Shirotsume? Could he not stand up and stop her? Even if he found the strength to stand up, what options did he have? He had given it everything he had before, and it lead to all of this! He was powerless! Sorrily powerless… pathetically powerless…

What went wrong in their bout earlier? What could he have done to earn another outcome? He kept his mana at check at the beginning when facing the axe wielder, and she went down quickly. The Black Lily revealed her God Slayer Magic, and it proved a huge detriment to his health upon being hit by just one of her spells! That was it! If he didn’t possess Hades’ power, then that wouldn’t have hurt as much as it did! He could’ve patched up real quick and continued the fight! Did he lose because of Hades?! Did he lose because of that outer source of divinity?!? A power he never asked for to begin with?!

… W-What was that insane amount of mana in the air? You couldn’t mean that… she had this much strength to spare after their battle? This was bad, this was bad, this was bad, none of them would survive such a requirement for a spell…!

WC: 363
TWC: 17,459

The mass of energy simply refused to stop growing for quite some time, seeming to absorb all of the hatred that Medeia was carrying inside her. It was feeding off of it in order to increase its power and the angel was under no illusions that this would be anything other than her last spell for the day. The anger that refused to fade away continued to fester, increasing her immense power even more, her hybrid slayer and takeover magics amplifying them to ridiculous levels. God, when was the last time that she had allowed herself to indulge in such a way? She was normally so controlled, choosing every word carefully and using her power to toy and play with her victims rather than simply destroy and yet here she was, like any other power hungry dark mage, wishing for nothing more than to slaughter every being she could find. It was so simple and animalistic, yet so pleasurable at the same time. She allowed her base instinct and emotions to take control and in doing so, embraced her true potential. A force of nature so mighty that other mages would give their minds, bodies and souls to reach the same level as she.

Eventually, the mass took on a more typical form and recognisable form. A meteor, brimming with darkness and almost oozing with the witch’s power, emitting an eerie hum. Every powerful mage had their nuke spell and this was one of hers. No messing around, just pure might. Her chant completed, Medeia would then simply point her hand towards the town and unleash her spell, resulting in the meteor beginning to descend. Starting slowly but increasing over time, the creation of death would pick up speed, careering down towards the town. There was no chance of stopping it, no hopes of slowing it and for the poor fools who were trembling in their houses, no point in trying to escape it. The only result of being struck by such a force was death and to the slight surprise of the purple eyed mage, she noticed that many of the natives stopped trying to run and instead hugged their loved ones, knowing the end was near. It was quite pathetic and there was not even the slightest showing of emotion from the holy being. They deserved what was about to happen.

The meteor struck with the force of the most powerful of bombs, resulting in a shockwave that destroyed everything in its path. Those who had been fortunate enough to have been hit directly were simply crushed by the sheer weight of the foul spell but for those unlucky enough to be on the edge of it, they would be instead caught by the debris, buried by the remains of buildings and pierced by shards of metal and wood. It was a calamity and as the enormous amount of dust eventually started to settle, the true amount of damage done would finally reveal itself.

A crater in the center of the town would remain with those not struck by the initial blast left as little more than empty husks. No one had been spared and as the winged angel watched the carnage with an expressionless gaze, she felt the anger finally seep away. It had been a truly effective way of unleashing her wrath and finally, she was satisfied. This had not been her plan for the place but in the end, it mattered not. There were many other places for her to work her magic upon and besides, they had deserved their fate for rebelling against her.

For the moment, she would simply survey her work, waiting for the brown haired boy to appear. She knew he would sooner or later and the angel could help but desire to rub her work in his face.

(638 Words)
(18097 TWC)

For a bit, he was just laying on the ground without strength, sensing with what miniscule amounts of mana he had left that the witch was doing something to Shirotsume. At first, he began feeling… burning in his skin. Was his healing beginning to kick in, again? He wasn’t going to have any strength in him left after that, but if he could just… s-stand up…

Slowly, he managed to at least get up on his knees. To think that he was still conscious was ridiculous, but whatever he could do right now was likely going to help him. The question was, however… what exactly was he supposed to do now? Could it be that the Black Lily was waiting for him back at the town? Was she on her hypnosis again – was that the reason behind the large-

…

…

N-No-

…

…

Mura did make his way to Shirotsume again. It felt like it took forever, but he managed to balance his torso with his sheathed katana being used like a cane. Step by step, he began walking, feeling each and every cell in his body ache from his previous torment, but he kept walking regardless. Somehow, he felt like he owed Shirotsume by going through this pain right now, because he was unable to stop her. Just like when he was unable to stop Janet back in Magnolia… just like when he was unable to stop her…

Oh, the damage had already been done. She didn’t return to controlling their minds again… when Mura’s slow, loud steps made it back to the town, he was met with a catastrophe in form of a large crater in the middle of where there was supposed to be buildings and roads. It was all dust, not a single speck of life left behind. And the screams were unbearable, for Mura could still hear them…

And something snapped in him.

His head looked back up at the soaring witch and revealed that blood vessels had cracked behind his face, causing hues of red to coat the white of his eyes. He wasn’t able to organize the hateful thoughts running through his head, but they were all stabbing daggers into her in one way or another. His heartrate was going insane, his breathing was growing heavy and sharp, and it felt like his body was rejuvenating itself on pure anger. For a moment, for just the briefest of moments, he felt ready to charge up and cut her to pieces all over again. His nails were digging into his palms with how tight his fists were clenched, and his skin was shaking with fury. His veins began to prick up on his skin, his muscles began to grow, and… and…

His eyes revealed streams of salty water and blood beginning to run down his face. In the midst of his mental breakdown, he had begun tearing up, not making a single sound… his breath freezing in time…

WC: 495
TWC: 18,592

At last he appeared, barely moving and seemingly completely out of magical power. The sight of him in such a state brought no shortage of pleasure to the dark mage and she glanced down upon him, a small smile crossed her face. Now did he understand the consequences of his actions or even now was he still ignorant. Every death, every destroyed building, every moment of anger, all of it had stemmed from his heroic need to get in her way. It could all have been avoided but no, he simply had to interfere. Medeia had only sought control of the place, just to fulfill her desire for it. There would have been no long term damage to anyone and sooner or later, she would have moved on to instill her dominating needs upon other people. That was how she viewed the average person at this point in her life. They were pawns, her puppets, her playthings to do whatever she wished with. To perform an act as devastating as wiping out a town was not something that usually crossed her mind. What good were pawns if they were dead? She quietly mourned the death of the beautiful woman that she had shared her bed with before this whole affair had occurred, unhappy about the fact that it would not happen again. Still, a lesson had to be taught, one that had hopefully been learned.

The expression on his face seemed to change from blinding fury to complete desolation and as she heard him start to weep, the angel descended, landing a short distance away from him. There was no hint of regret in her tone, no, if anything, she was awfully calm, her anger now having seemingly washed away with the casting of her spell. He was an absolute wreck, veins bursting from his skin and shaking from head to toe, an emotional mess of a boy who had appeared to have lost all control. Here he was, the master of one of the oldest and well known guilds in Fiore but as she looked at him now, all Medeia saw was a young man who was clearly in over his head. Medeia’s confidence on the other hand only rose further although the only real visible signs of it would be her smile and the slight glowing of her purple orbs. This would be quite the tale for her to regale her guildmates with and an effective message that could be sent to all of her opponents.

“Such a shame that so many lives had to be lost in order for you to pay for interfering in my little game. All of this could have been avoided if you had just stayed away but no, the Hero of Fairy Tail just had to be so righteous, so noble. I told you that this was how it was going to end and I always keep my word. Every single drop of blood that has been spilt here is on your hands and I hope that the spirits of the dead will haunt you for the rest of your days. I am not going to finish you. I want you to live and suffer. I wonder how your guildmates will react when they hear that their leader ended up sobbing at the feet of a dark mage, after failing miserably in his heroic mission.”

She fell silent for a moment, before twisting the knife a little more, her gaze becoming slightly more lust filled. “Perhaps I will go after your wife and see if she is more of a challenge. It seems obvious to me that she must wear the trousers in your relationship.”

(613 Words)
(19205 TWC)

… It was clearly visible for her. Someone like the Black Lily would definitely be able to see that Mura’s face didn’t just scream ‘what have you done’ or ‘this is unforgivable’… someone who was good at reading faces would be able to tell. There was another thing that his face had written all over it. Something that might’ve taken her by surprise if she were to crack the code. It consisted of one, single word, so she would definitely be able to see it. Her sparkling eyes seemed clear and wide enough for her to spot it, especially with how joyful she felt. She could see it, surely… that one word the shaman beckoned to say out loud but couldn’t find the strength to.

‘Again?’

Battered like this, again? By someone like her, again? Was his life stuck in a loop? Was he ever going to be truly at ease…?

He wished that he could ignore her words, but they were like frying oil being poured over an open wound. She’s the one who killed them, and yet… it was his fault that they were dead.

"I wonder how your guildmates will react when they hear that their leader ended up sobbing at the feet of a dark mage, after failing miserably in his heroic mission."

Yeah… his guildmates… they probably wouldn’t like seeing him like this, would they? Vandrad definitely wouldn’t want to waste a second more if he were here… and neither would Akemi, either… would they judge him for his reaction? Would Menka comfort him in his present state? Would they feel bad for him or… would they tell him that he wasn’t acting as usual?

He didn’t know… he didn’t know anymore… his thoughts were getting cloudy-

Just before the Black Lily went on about his wife, just before she uttered those words, his eyes widened up in a sudden realization. He didn’t say anything, and his shocked look stayed on, but there was something behind those eyes that wasn’t outright grief. It made the witch’s next remark fly right past him, as if he wasn’t able to listen on anymore. He even dropped his sheathed katana on the floor, out of his reach as he glared back at the witch in a monotone expression…

And then, he made his way over to the deeper end of the crater and kneeled down. There were dusty remains buried under the sand and granite; most of the place was completely vaporized, but deep under the sand, there were remains. From the Black Lily’s view, however, it looked more like Mura was praying as he then said:

“… Leave.”

WC: 441
TWC: 19,646

There was something about the look in his eyes that aroused her curiosity. It was not one that she would have expected to see from someone who had been defeated so easily. He did not appear to be in despair but rather seeming to be behaving as though he had been in this position before. Surely not? Surely he could not have been defeated twice in such a manner? It was an amusing notion and while she might have questioned him upon it if she was in the mood, at this point, she was beginning to become a little tired. He was retreating into a world of his own and barely seemed to be registering her words. What was the point in her gloating if his mind did not even respond? Ah well, her point had been made and he could now deal with the after effects of what had happened here.

He eventually let go of his weapon and walked past her, before dropping to his knees with his back to her. A dangerous manoeuvre on his part and Medeia could have quite easily finished him then and there if she so wished but it appeared that they had both come to the conclusion that death was not going to be his fate here. Her words had been honest enough regarding that and seeing him in his current state brought her more pleasure than his lifeless body would. After a while, he appeared to start praying for the lost or something of that nature, which was more in line with what she had expected. Perhaps the sense of disgust and horror had taken its time to sink in? Or perhaps only now did he realise just what he had done?

She would take a few moments to survey the effects of her spell, the stench of death still incredibly strong. Even now, Medeia did not feel any true remorse or regret for the people in general. They had deserved to be punished for revolting against her control and although killing them all had not been her first solution, perhaps it was rather fitting. Bend or break. That had always been her motto when dealing with others, one that had served her incredibly well up until now.

He only said a single word to her and with the slight shrug of her shoulders, Medeia would do exactly that, turning on her heel and heading away from the place. There was nothing more to be done here and she honestly should be returning to the guild castle. Armina would be reforming soon and the mood that she would be in was not going to be a pleasant one. She would need some comforting and the strictest restraints that Medeia owned. Oh, her maid would recover in time but the first few days after regeneration were always the worst.

As she walked, she would undo her spells, allowing her takeover and slayer force to vanish into nothing, returning her to her usual form. There was barely a blemish upon her now, due to the effects of her spell and although she felt slightly weary, she was hardly at death’s door. Today had not gone the way she had expected but she was overall pleased with the day's events.

(546 Words)
(20192 TWC)

What a shitty day. The crater was far wider than he thought at first glance… it must’ve caught at least 80% of the population in an instant, destructive death… and he wasn’t there to save them. If anything, showing up here of all places, at this time of the day, at this hour, had been a catalyst for just the worst outcome he could imagine… would it have been better if he died in their stead? Why did he even need to choose such a way?

How many people had he saved up until today? How tragic would it have been if he wasn’t able to help them, aid them or just pick them up when they were lying down? What kind of… weak Wizard Saint was he to let this happen? That was what it all boiled down to, no matter how much he thought of it; weakness. That was what caused this to happen – he wasn’t strong enough, it was obvious to him. Look at what his weakness had caused. He knew that he did the right thing, deep inside… the witch’s words were a gross attempt at demoralizing him, and every move of her lips reminded him of people he hated. And yet…

She eclipsed all of them. Just ‘cause.

It was aggravating! After all he had done to get to this point… why wasn’t he able to kill her? His Magic, which had been by his side for as long as he could remember, couldn’t keep up. If anything, it even worked against his favor with the malfunctioning healing – he had been fighting a fight he couldn’t win… w-was he never going to destroy her? Would he stay like this until he crumbles away?

His palms were still bleeding. He couldn’t stop shaking them, despite his exhaustion. If he could still shake them, could he move them? If he could still move them, could he swing them? If he could still swing them, could he stop her? Any desperate attempt to right what had just happened… o-oh no, the Council was likely going to find out very soon. He was, ultimately, a massive failure today. It stung him like nothing else had ever done before.

Ohhhhh, how he lamented himself. It was such a terrible sight to see. “…”

Their souls were only just now beginning to appear in the air around him. This was even worse; now he could actually stand face to face with them, letting them see the failure of a hero who tried to help them out. Why… why were they screaming? As if Mura’s psyche hadn’t already taken a huge dump, the screams of those passed away began to drive him insane. It was excruciating, too much to bear for even the Wizard Saint – he couldn’t handle it anymore! Those sounded like screams of people condemned! Screams of the damned and the losers of the other life! What was happening to them?! He heard the screams of young men, women, as well as those of kids and elders, all letting it out of their lungs in the same, high-pitched elegy. It got to the point where Mura covered his own ears and silently begged them to stop screaming like that… but his words fell on deaf, dead ears.

“M-“

Please, stop screaming!

“Mu-“

He felt so sorry, but would they forgive him?!

“Mur-“

Please, he tried his best!

“MURA!!!”

His head shot straight back up in shock, recognizing that shout as Kyuken’s. It felt like a slap to the face, but Mura’s eyes were widened up, revealing the reddening his orbs had taken from the stress of all of this. Kyuken, on the other hand, looked… like he was in haste. “MURA, YOU IDIOT! STOP CRYING! DON’T YOU REMEMBER?! TAIZAN’S CEREMONY – YOU CAN STILL BRING THEM BACK, SO STOP BEING SO BROKEN AND GET TO WORK!”

… Kyuken was talking about a spell that Mura had never been able to use before. What, you thought it would be that easy to bring back the dead without severe terms and consequences? If anything, Mura didn’t even possess enough mana to cast the spell as of now, so what was the point? The moment those poor souls began leaking away, it would already be too late… there was no h-

“HERE! TAKE MY MANA!”

… W-What? What was Kyuken on about? He was a ghost – he didn’t possess magic? Kyuken was never a mage in his past life, and he never cast a spell before… what was he on about? Why was Kyuken constantly submerged in mana throughout their journey? The answer to that led Kyuken to believe that, if he could merge with Mura once more, then the mana would be just enough to at least summon Taizan Fukun. The one who would give them the slight chance of redoing everything.

By merging souls together… perhaps the first spell that Mura ever cast, which would allow him to adapt Kyuken’s physical and mental prowess as his own. But it still baffled him that Kyuken possessed mana, because the whole ordeal had been that Kyuken was an old samurai – not among the new Samurai of Midi who all possessed Magic at this point. Besides… would Kyuken’s mana be enough?

At this point in time, Mura was willing to try it out. With a silent nod, he allowed Kyuken to possess him, and mana began to resurface in his skin. He felt… revived. Had Kyuken… no, it didn’t make any sense! Mura could’ve needed this huge source of mana earlier! How had Kyuken amassed this much mana; w-what the hell?! It was mind-boggling! Mura couldn’t even sense all of it due to Kyuken’s ghostly nature; a form without a solid body itself to channel the magic through often let the mana just spread everywhere. However, Kyuken was able to… n-no, it was too much for him.

“… W-When, how-“

“NO TIME TO EXPLAIN! SUMMON TAIZAN, NOW!”

Almost frightened at the harsh command by his old friend, Mura clapped his hands together and began a rather simple Summoning Ritual. With the blood in his palm, he wrote down Taizan’s name in Midijin on the dusty floor and began reciting a secret sutra. He had to hurry, and so did Taizan… but as Mura finished the sutra, the world turned pitch-black. There was nothing but him, Kyuken and a ray of light in front of them. It appeared that Taizan took on the form of a ray of light when being summoned, and to think that Mura’s spell succeeded with Kyuken’s mana alone was… insane. Kyuken had a lot to explain later on.

“… Taizan…”

“I believe to know what you desire, young Onmyōji… no, you’re a Dai-Onmyōji, if you were able to summon me successfully. I commend you for your efforts. You can rest easy.”

“... Bring them back, Taizan. All of them, the people of Shirotsume... it’s my fault they died like this. You’re free to take... whatever you want from me, in exchange.”

“Then so be it. Your life will be the price for what you request, so do you comply?”

His life... without having said goodbye to anyone? Just like that, huh? Mura’s cheeks began revealing rivers of tears once more, knowing what he had to do... but would that... that wench just undo his efforts? His life... no, it was worthless at this point, but... surely, it was a dumb idea, wasn’t it?

“Be a little kinder to him, Taizan! This is why the priests never make use of this fantastic incantation!”

That wasn’t Taizan, that was another voice that the shaman didn’t recognize. Suddenly, not one, but two rays of light appeared on each side of the first one, making three. Were those other priests of old? Who were they?

“Taizan, haven’t I told you countless times? All life is sacred. Those who take lives do not have lives themselves, don’t you agree?”

Mura... silently shook his head. He had killed people before, that was certain. These priests were very radical in their beliefs, but that was only to be expected. They were older than Kyuken.

“Huh, really? Then so be it... but you are a man who robs people of lives all around you-“

“That’s because I’m too weak... to do otherwise.”

It felt like Mura’s entire life was being questioned, so he sort of snapped. “We’re not gods, priest. We do not recover from all injuries... as powerful as we become, some scars will never disappear from me. And I’ve learned plenty of times that you can’t value all life equally... that, too, I was reminded of today. Are you to tell me that her life... should mean anything to me? After all of this?”

There was no longer any whitening on his eyes. He was fuming. “If you want to lecture someone, go haunt her for the rest of eternity if you can! I only have one request, and that’s to bring Shirotsume’s people back to life! Their souls are screaming, and I’m afraid they’re going somewhere horrendous... hurry up, before it’s too late!”

“But... without a proper sacrifice, I cannot channel the required authority-“

“Oh, my senile friend, I will take care of that – you, Daionmyōji. I will allow you to get off with a discount – your left arm will do. I lost mine in my past life, and I’d like a proper replacement.”

Left arm... deal! That was acceptable, since it was Mura’s non-dominant arm. It felt like a steal, honestly, and his eyes began widening up in a sliver of what he had just lost – hope. The three lights began gathering together, and a beam of light cut right through his shoulder and siphoned his left arm away from the rest of his body. That sutra was unknown to him... but it was burning. Burning.

When he came back to conscience again, Shirotsume looked like the crater had been raised to- wait... no, it looked like... what?

The civilians themselves were baffled and lost for words at the sight. Taizan hadn’t just brought them back to life... it looked like time itself had reverted back. The moment Mura thought of that, his senses shot up! If time had reversed, then he didn’t have time to stay here! She would return! Without looking back, he began running in the opposite direction, missing out on the joyful cheers and cries from the people behind him who saw the fleeing shaman as a birth of hope...

... The field here hadn’t reverted. It made sense, since Mura was still stinging from his injuries... and his left arm was gone. In its place was a seal, a contract. Was that a seal to prevent regeneration? Honestly, Mura might as well faint where he stood – he was... he was...

Not happy. Not at all. He was broken.

WC: 1808
TWC: 22,000
(100-Year Quest WC Reached!)