Chapter 131

Syra thrummed with a newfound power as the rebirth of the Sunwell supplied her with a constant source of mana. 

The influx of alternative energies clashed with her carefully balanced Holy Void state, as there was no Void mana coming from the Well. 

However, this was to Syra's advantage, because she could take that overwhelming mana, and combine it with her dark emotions to create a new balance. To create a new and improved Holy Void state! 

The training she had done with Tess and Dawnbringer had opened her eyes to finer control of her abilities. Dawnbringer had taught her in the ways of the Light, whilst she had acted as the instructor for Tess. This act of being both teacher and student had proved to teach her more on the subjects of Light and Void than any book ever had!

No longer limited by the constant consumption of Mana Stones, and having learned the finer control of these two elements, Syra had discovered a method to safely increase the amount of Void and Holy energies throughout her body. 

One eye golden, one purple. Her veins began to flash gold, and her skin turned umbra, her hair flashed purple-blonde, and an aura of benevolent-destruction surrounded her. 

As a result of this transformation, the mass time dilation spell seemed to become eaten away all around her. Although her amulet that Nightsong had gifted her had cracked, it almost didn't matter, as the Holy Void devoured all. 

Taking one last glance back at Varrus, Syra found herself to be calm. Calm with the simmering energy of a bubbling volcano moments before eruption that is. 

Flicking her hand, she cleaved through a flaming cheese wheel like it was nothing, and set her eyes on the source of this calamity. 

Flying in the air, Murozond was constantly evading both Nightsong and Hellscream. 

It seemed that unlike Nozdormu, he had no scruples, and was opening up portals from different eras of time without a care in the world. 

Natural disasters such as lightning storms, blizzards, tsunamis, and twisters were summoned from all across the timeline. 

Hellscream didn't care about any of this, and remained on the offensive, but Nightsong had a duty to protect her son, and frequently paused in her assault to clear away these catastrophes. 

Additionally, many Heroes that had passed on in the past had been summoned from beyond the pale, and were combating her two allies. For every additional summon Murozond completed, another tear into Oblivion would rend open. More and more nonsensical madness began to flow in from the realm that the Mad God called home. 

Exploding confetti, ink that made one depressed if inhaled, and the sound of a party could be heard on the other side, as it seemed some people were using their life and death struggle as entertainment. 

Aa for Syra, she ignored these odd occurrences, as she was confronted by three former adversaries before she could make it to combat Murozond. 

The past selves of Zul'Jin, Rommath, and Greymane were all brought to the future, and barred Syra's path.

"I be gettin visions of me as a head, mon! You Elves be bad juju, ima enjoy takin your scalp." Zul'Jin widely grinned, and began to radiate the power of the Loa. The green Forest Troll ran at Syra with the enhanced speed of elemental wind boosting his stride, and an enchanted axe in hand. 

"The Sunwell…I must have it." Rommath hungrily intoned. The former Grand Magister chanted a spell, and a purple, foggy miasma began to cloud the air. As it spread towards Syra, it ate away at the grass, and withered it within seconds, and stone melted away like sugar stirred in water. 

"You! You are the girl who turned my daughter on me! You must pay for your insolence, Elf!" Greymane twirled his twin enchanted blades, and ran at Syra in a fury. 

Syra slammed her blade into the earth, and clasped her hands around the pommel of her sword. 

"Varrus nor'soothe bel'atathal.

Varrus nor'soothe bel'lothol

Varrus is my sanctuary." Syra chanted, completing the ritual prayer, Sanctuary, to meet Rommath's spell.

A radiant beacon of golden light shined straight up into the sky, then spread outward, pressing Rommath's fog back. 

At the same time, this radiant glow provided a healing, and invigorating buff upon Syra. 

As soon as she finished chanting, Zul'Jin and Greymane were upon her. 

The Troll breathed green dragonhawk fire at her whilst closing with his axe, and Greymane moved to her left flank in an attempt to catch her off guard. 

Syra flicked her giant buster sword forward with one hand, blocking the fire. Twirling in place, she narrowly dodged Greymane's slash, and redirected the flames at him, forcing the Gilnean King to defend himself. 

While Zul'Jin had closed within a second of this happening, and was slamming his axe down, Syra utilized her superior speed, and offhand to cast Judgement. 

A golden hammer spawned above Zul'Jin's head, and slammed down. 

The Amani Chieftain erupted with a torrent of elemental lightning all around his body in an effort to rebuff the attack. 

Electrical arcs crackled as they began to eat away at the hammer, and Zul'Jin was free to swipe his axe directly at Syra as she had over extended herself. 

"End of da line girly." Zul'Jin grinned wide, and with great pleasure as he brought his axe down towards her neck. 

Syra silently smirked, and ducked low, then moved. 

Her incredible speed saw her evade Zul'Jin's axe, and had him missing a pair of legs a second later. 

"Huh?" Zul'Jin confusedly got out as he fell sideways. 

As he collapsed to the ground, his legs began to reform, only to have them eaten up by the Holy Void energy constantly churning at the stumps of his knees. 

Syra ignored the Troll, and continued her blitz forward, moving towards Rommath. 

The mage Blinked backwards to create distance, and summoned a corrupted tornado of flame and Void between them. 

Syra cut through it with an unstoppable momentum, and powered through the storm like a locomotive that gave no fucks. 

Rommath calmly retreated further, and started creating hundreds of basketball-sized black orbs that littered the air. 

They then began to shoot out beams of Void energy at Syra, forcing her to dance around countless attacks as if she were at the disco. 

This minefield of a technique severely limited Syra's options, yet she continued to advance. 

Any beam that struck near her, or in front of her path would melt rock, and carried with it the power to instantly evaporate anyone without protection. 

During her blitz towards Rommath, Syra was forced to block a beam, and noted that even with her shroud of Holy Void energy coating her body, the attack was powerful. If she took more than 4 of them at once, she would be a goner. 

'Then I won't be hit. Wait for me, Varrus. This nuisance will soon end, and you will shower me-not Hellscream or Nightsong-me for winning this battle!' Syra excitedly thought to herself as her battle hunger bubbled forth. 

Grinning with a slight edge of madness, Syra felt some glee as the calm and composed archmage was desperately trying to escape her grasp. 

She had closed in, and he was about to Blink away once more, but she countered it by flooding the nearby area with a dense cloud of Void magic, temporarily preventing any portals or teleportations in the area. 

"So I die by the hand of Anasterian's child no matter the timeline. How pathetic." Rommath muttered to himself seconds before he was diced and cut up into pieces by Syra's blade. 

'I wonder what he meant by that?' Syra tilted her head to the side, and thought in reflection. 

At the same time that she stood silently over Rommath's rapidly disintegrating corpse, Greymane had finally caught up to her, and silently struck at Syra from behind. 

Without looking back, Syra reversed her sword, and impaled Greymane in the throat. 

"Hate. You-" Greymane gurgled out before he collapsed to the dirt dead. 

Syra retracted her sword, and flicked the blood off its length. 

She then turned to the Troll, and saw him desperately trying to crawl away in fear. 

A sickeningly sweet smile played across her face as Syra skipped over to the downed Troll. 

"Stay back! I'm warnin you mon!, " Zul'Jin spoke in a terrified tone. 

The Forest Troll was sweating, and shaking so hard he could barely hold his axe. 

Syra wanted to play with this cretin, like a cat that had caught the mouse, but she had better things to do. 

Pouncing forward, she moved to cut off his head. 

'It would be nice for the other Zul'Jin to have some company, right?' Syra thought to herself with a mischievous chuckle. 

"S-stay back! I won't letchu take me head again! Bomswandi, gods of death, anybody, take ma soul, I beg of ye!" Zul'Jin cried out as he pierced his own heart. 

"That can be arranged laddie!" A strange sounding voice boomed from one of the portals to Oblivion. 

A moment later, Syra saw an ethereal Zul'Jin leave his body, and get sucked into one of the portals. 

Syra had tried to destroy it, but felt an invisible barrier blocking her strikes. 

"Naughty, naughty my girl. I don't like it when my play things are toyed with…unless I do! Here, a gift for sending me something so fun, little mad girl!" The voice chuckled, and a grinning silver skull fell down in front of her. 

Syra instinctively tried cutting the item in half, but found that she did no damage to it. 

She frowned, and ignored the skull when she saw that it just sat on the ground, and did nothing. 

Sparing a glare at one of the portals, Syra added someone new to the list. 

No one stole her kills. Besides, she had planned on gifting the Forest Troll's head to her husband! The matching set would have gone well with the spikes she planned to put on their house's wall! 

Huffing to herself, Syra turned to join the battle against Murozond. 

What she saw shocked her. 

"You are no father of mine! You lack honor, you are no true Orc!" A red Orc slammed into Hellscream, and pushed him back. 

"Son, Garrosh, you are a proud warrior, but you do not understand…" Hellscream replied with clashed blades, but he was weaker in his delivery than Syra had ever seen. 

As someone who had clashed with Hellscream multiple times, she knew he was stronger than this. This behavior of his was most uncharacteristic! 

At the same time that the Orcs were dueling, Nightsong was slowly beginning to be overwhelmed as Murozond landed a devastating blow against her, driving the General deep into the earth with a pile driver. Upon completing this move, he unleashed a horrifying breath attack that froze time all around Nightsong, and was slowly cocooning her within an inescapable time barrier! 

Syra couldn't watch any longer, and moved to support the woman she had looked up to as a little girl. 

Nightsong may not respect her or even talk to her, but Syra desperately hoped to win her approval, and bring their family closer! 

Rushing forth, Syra gave everything she had into a sneak attack from stealth Murozond's back, and hit nothing. 

In retaliation, Syra caught a stray tailwind to her midsection for her troubles, and was sent flying into the ground. 

Time magic flowed around her energy shields, undoing them, and she felt the full force of the impact upon her body. 

It was only thanks to her Light magic enhancing her natural defense that she could survive such a fall. 

Pulling herself out of the rubble, Syra grimly looked up at the Dragon as it hovered in place. 

Nightsong was trapped, frozen in a crystal of time stasis, and unable to move or interact with the world. 

"Foolish girl, I see the past, present, and future. I even see your husband scurrying nearby. Come out, come out, pest!" Murozond gloated, and began to glow with power as he prepared a massive spell. 

Syra felt her heart tighten. She wasn't worried for herself, but for Varrus! How was he able to fight with this type of wound?! 

It was in this moment of panicked love for her husband that Syra received a ping on her scrying orb. 

\\Be ready// Varrus messaged. 

Syra relaxed her shoulders, and gripped her sword in a stance that prepared herself for a mighty leap. Mana swirled around her, and she concentrated all the power into the edge of her sword. She would trust in Varrus, and be ready for one final, all out attack. 

Her husband was always such a stage performer. It seemed he had something special prepared for the conclusion to this act. 

Glancing up at Murozond as he chanted the words to his spell, Syra felt glee, and eagerly awaited her husband's surprise. 

'Varrus, my love. Together, we shall make him into 12 sets of clothing for our children to wear.' Syra thought to herself as a wide, murderous grin spread across her face.