What's a —?
Zora leaped, disappearing into the nearest shadow as Sekitsui retracted, the mass of bone sinking back into the ground as if it had never existed.
The skirmish below was unrelenting—not a clash between a few stray combatants, but an all-out war, a desperate struggle for control where death came as fast as a breath. From the depths of the shadows, she moved while scanning the battlefield, searching for Seraniti among the smoke filled street.
She found her almost instantly.
Seraniti was dodging between stray hits, narrowly slipping past rounds and searing thaumaturgy, but even she wasn't untouchable. A few blows connected, her movements stuttering as her body absorbed the impacts, but she kept pushing forward.
But she was sent flying straight toward Zora.
"Shit—!"
Zora caught her on instinct, arms outstretched, bracing for the impact—
BAM!
The force drove them both back, sending Zora slamming into the side of an overturned vehicle. The metal buckled on impact, the sharp, bent edges digging painfully into her back, the real damage coming not from the fall but from the jagged frame of the ruined truck.
"You fatty!" Zora wheezed, flashing lights bursting in her vision as the impact rattled her skull.
Seraniti grinned sheepishly, barely fazed, before shifting her attention to the right. Her hand moved, palm open, fingers steady despite the battlefield burning around them.
Her ΜΙСΛ chimed as a sequence came to life.
A pillar of fire erupted, consuming several people in an instant.
The screams were immediate.
"FUCK OFF!"
Her ΜΙСΛ chimed again, twice this time, and two more fire pillars materialized—one from above, another from the side. The burning figures collapsed, their cries ending as their bodies turned to blackened husks, bits of meat and charred bone all that remained.
But there was no time to think about it.
Gunfire and spells rained down in retaliation, bullets punching through walls, magic exploding on impact, the overturned vehicle they were using as cover shaking from the volume of incoming fire. The metal frame warped and twisted as the rounds tore holes straight through it.
And she wasn't so lucky either.
One of the rounds pierced through, the bullet striking Seraniti's shoulder with a sickening crack.
Her face contorted instantly, pain overriding instinct as she let out a sharp, broken cry.
"AH! F—!"
The sound of running footsteps grew louder, more enemies closing in fast, their figures emerging from the smoke. Seraniti barely had time to react before she snapped her fingers.
Svalinn responded immediately, moving like a bullet from a ruined building, slamming down on the other side of the car with a thunderous crash, forming a makeshift barrier between them and the advancing hostiles.
The next rounds hammered into Svalinn, the impacts ringing out in different tones—some dull from deflections, others sharper where the projectiles ricocheted off the material. The screen held, but the pressure didn't stop.
Seraniti exhaled sharply, her breathing uneven, sweat beading along her forehead from both exhaustion and pain.
"I never get used to being hit... heh..." She tried to move her arm, but a sharp pain shot through her shoulder, forcing her to bite down hard to keep herself from crying out again.
Zora frowned, her ears twitching as she watched the battlefield shift, scanning the ever-changing front lines. The air was thick with death, the scent of burning flesh, metal, and magicules blending into something suffocating.
The town's defenders were outnumbered but entrenched, fighting with desperation, experience, and knowledge of their own streets. The attackers were more organized, better equipped, their tactics shifting rapidly as they pressed forward, losing bodies but never losing ground.
"Zora, i need you to block the street—put it next to that big ass stone arm. Then we can use the debris from the building to make a wall, take the high ground, and i can blow them all."
Zora hesitated for only a fraction of a second, her eyes flicking toward Seraniti's shoulder, still slick with blood. She needed medical attention, but this wasn't the time to argue. The longer they stalled, the more ground the enemy would take.
Without another word, Zora disappeared into the shadows, her form slipping into the shifting darkness beneath the battle.
The moment she reappeared, she began spamming her skill, her blackened swords manifesting and vanishing in rapid succession, each one striking down and forcing their enemies back. Every time a blade appeared, it was gone just as quickly, a distraction, a pressure that kept their opponents guessing.
A sharp voice rang out from the other side of the battlefield.
"OI! FIND WHOEVER THE FUCK IS DROPPING THESE DAMN THINGS!"
Zora didn't wait.
She shifted again, her silhouette moving fluidly, covering ground as she spammed the skill four more times, carving out enough space to continue the plan.
"Sekitsui!"
Even while exhausting her magic, she didn't lose focus on what needed to be done.
The silhouette of the massive stone arm shifted, its form distorting before coagulating a few meters away. The air trembled, an unnatural force expanding outward before—
BOOM!
Sekitsui popped into existence, slamming into the ground like the fall of humanvmy, its weight crushing what little remained of the street beneath it.
The reaction was instant.
"WATCH OUT! FUCKIN' SHADOW MOVING!"
The enemy scattered, instinct forcing them to retreat just moments before the impact sent debris flying in all directions. Those who were too slow were sent sprawling, bodies thrown back as the street cracked apart beneath them.
Zora exhaled sharply, her hands shaking slightly from the strain.
"Hahh… hahh… two-thirds of my manas… hahh… gone… I feel like I'm gonna throw up."
Magicules were like blood, like the fluids in a body, something that couldn't be drained rapidly without consequence. Even for someone as durable as her, losing so much at once was dangerous.
"At least it didn't drain my stamina. And only five sanity."
Her vision swam for a moment, but she steadied herself, forcing the nausea to the back of her mind. Even through the exhaustion, she felt a sliver of satisfaction. They had gone days without rest, running on whatever reserves they had left, and still, they were carving through enemy forces as best they could.
Her eyes glowed faintly, her
The debris from the nearby buildings shifted, sinking into the shadows before being pulled forward, slamming against Sekitsui and reinforcing the structure. She left a gap on purpose, forming a tunnel, forcing the enemy into a controlled choke point for later.
She took one last look before disappearing into the shadows again, reappearing beside Seraniti, who was now being patched up by a medic amidst the temporary quiet in battle.
"Give it a minute after I finish healing, then you'll be good to go." the medic said, his hands glowing faintly as he worked.
The ΜΙСΛ hanging from his packguard chimed softly as he carefully extracted the bullet, the small metal slug coated in blood before it was discarded.
Seraniti winced, but it was barely noticeable. The worst part wasn't the extraction—it was the feeling of her muscles and bones moving underneath her skin, the unnatural shift beneath her skin as the medic stitched the wound from the inside out while his hands glowed softly.
Healing wasn't painless.
Without painkillers, it felt like being pulled apart and put back together all at once.
She clenched her teeth, muscles tensing as the last of the magic settled into her skin, sealing the wound completely.
The medic patted her shoulder, testing for any residual pain, and Seraniti let out a weak yelp before shooting him a glare.
"Alright, give it a minute. Good luck."
He stood, casting one last glance at her hands, but said nothing before rushing back toward a group of town guards, who were already assessing the damage and securing what little ground they had gained.
Seraniti barely acknowledged it before she turned toward Zora, who gave her a silent nod.
With a flick of her hand, Svalinn pulled itself from the ground, the cannons repositioning at her side after find their way to her.
Zora grabbed onto Seraniti, and within seconds, they were gone, reappearing inside the large open chamber where Zora had fought the maid knight earlier.
Seraniti took a slow step forward, surveying the damages in the room before walking toward the window, eyes locking onto the pillar being pushed by the hand.
She watched for a moment, then gave a slow nod.
"This will do."
Her gaze lowered, scanning the battlefield below.
The makeshift wall was holding for now, but the enemies were regrouping, forming a tight cluster around a drone, their officers barking commands as they reorganized. Their eyes looked as if they had been censored, drawn even.
Fake eyes.
But Seraniti's attention flicked to something else.
A group of people—bound, restrained, pushed around like cattle—being harassed by their captors.
"Tough luck."
Her voice was flat and devoid of sympathy, they happened to be caught in an unlucky scenario like countless others.
But this was nothing compared the horrors within Fiesta, where your organs could be harvested without anyone knowing or worse.
Seraniti flicked her wrist, and the cannons adjusted, both barrels locking into place, one positioned directly next to it. Svalinn hovered at her side, repositioning itself just in case something went wrong.
Below, the enemy continued their work, rounding up captives, forcing them into submission like livestock. The apparatuses on her cannons spun faster and faster, their potential building—
Then—nothing.
She did nothing.
She wasn't obligated to help them.
A hero would intervene, a hero would throw themselves into the flames for people they had never met. A hero would save them.
But then who would save her?
Who would remember?
Would they carve her name in marbal? Sing her praises? Or would she just be another lost figure, a shadow in history, forgotten within years—another body buried beneath someone else's victory?
Her fingers twitched, the cannons subtly adjusting away from the target.
She exhaled, about to signal Zora to take them back down, but her thoughts halted the moment something shifted below.
A figure broke through the barricade, running through the gap they had left in their makeshift wall.
People chased after him, hands reaching, yelling, trying to stop him, but he was too fast, and too determined for his own good.
Seraniti's eyes flicked as her attention was drawn.
"The FUCK are you doing, Jud?!"
One of the men in the group snarled, his voice filled with both panic and frustration as the young man sprinted forward, heading straight for the prisoners.
Seraniti huffed, turning her gaze toward another part of the battlefield.
Not her problem.
Below, Jud barely made it ten steps before a hand yanked him back, grabbing the collar of his jacket with enough force to jerk him off balance.
Both sides immediately took aim at each other with weapons raised, palms spread open, waiting for someone to make the first move.
"STOP TRYNA BE A HERO, YOU FOOL! YOU'LL GET US KILLED!"
A man barked the words, his grip iron-tight, his breath ragged from the chase.
"AND WE'RE JUST SUPPOSED TO LET THEM TAKE OUR PEOPLE?!" Jud snarled, struggling against the two figures restraining him.
"YOU'RE JUST A KID! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU'RE DOING!"
His arms jerked, trying to pull free, but he was outmatched. A single Oni and a Jötunn held him firm, their size and grip rendering him powerless. One struggled to hold him still, yet the other didn't.
"WE'VE BEEN DOING THIS FOR TWO YEARS! YOU'RE LUCKY WE'RE CLOSE TO KHMERON, OR WE'D HAVE BEEN LONG GONE, YOU DUMBASS!"
Jud's teeth clenched, his entire body shaking from both exertion and anger. His eyes burned with defiance, but he couldn't break free.
Seraniti's gaze lingered, shifting toward the Jötunn holding him in place.
"Jötunn."
She muttered the name absentmindedly, recognizing the massive figure's stature.
Most averaged a bit over six feet, towering over countless other races, making them formidable even with just their height alone. The species scattered across the lands, lingering in places where survival was strength.
Seraniti watched the scene unfold, her expression unchanging as she waited for anything to happen.
Zora, standing beside Seraniti, shifted slightly, waiting for her mashaa's response, her feline ears twitching in anticipation. The tension in the room was thick, pressing against her senses like the weight of a storm yet to break. But before Seraniti could even decide her next move, Zora's attention snapped toward the door.
"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!"
Seraniti turned around, her gaze locking onto the Jötunn who had just barged in. He was massive, his scarred left eye partially shut, but his other eye gleamed with sharp awareness. He wielded a mace large enough to be mistaken for a slab of metal forged into a brutal weapon—one side sharpened into a short blade meant for crushing and cleaving alike. And beside him stood the maid knight from earlier, her expression unreadable as she flicked her gaze towards Zora. She hesitated only a moment before looking away, but Zora had already caught the glance, flashing a sly, knowing smile.
Even as the confrontation unfolded, the misery outside remained a distant echo—shouting, the clash of steel, and the intermittent bursts of gunfire painting a grim backdrop to the already volatile situation.
Seraniti inhaled deeply, letting her mind sharpen past the initial moment of alarm. The Jötunn was looking at her, scrutinizing her every movement. She met his gaze, her lips curling slightly—not in defiance, but in the restrained amusement of someone who found herself constantly shoved into absurd situations. But beneath that expression, she was fighting against something much worse.
Don't look at it. Don't look at the fantasy!
Her gaze flickered—just a brief glance beyond the Jötunn, past the physical and into the grotesque. The fantasy loomed behind him, an ugly mass of writhing limbs twisted into shapes that defied logic. Arms bent at unnatural angles, hair thick with filth that tangled into branches. It had too many faces, and yet it had none—only six broken masks that were held by one arm each.
She immediately regretted it.
The overwhelming nausea threatened to shatter her carefully held composure. Her facade was cracking at the edges, and she struggled to keep her expression neutral, but the wrongness of the thing behind the Jötunn made her stomach churn. Ugly thing! I can't even count how many arms it has! And what the fuck is the point of having six masks if you're not even using them?!
She ripped her gaze away before it pulled her in, blinking rapidly to shake off the nausea rising in her throat.
"I—"
She didn't get to finish.
A deafening explosion ripped through the air, shaking the building to its foundations. The impact sent her stumbling, her body colliding with the cold floor as dust and debris rained from above. The broken window behind her rattled violently. Through the gaps left behind, she caught a glimpse of the carnage below.
The captured people were no longer captives.
They were corpses.
The street was turned upside down again—fires burned through the rubble of collapsed structures, magic cracked in erratic bursts, and figures moved frantically through the destruction, some running, others being hit down where they stood. It was impossible to tell who had started the bloodshed, whether the townspeople had finally turned on their captors or if the enemy had executed them before the fighting even began.
"DON'T JUST STAND THERE, BOY!"
The voice was hoarse, laced with barely restrained panic. Jud stumbled forward, the weight of the moment pressing on him with suffocating intensity. His eyes darted between the havoc around as the man gripping his collar.
Seraniti didn't move, still seated on the ground, one knee bent as she exhaled. She cast her gaze back at the Jötunn, her expression unreadable, before speaking with an innocent smile.
"I'll help you all... for a smaaaaall fee. Heh."
The Jötunn groaned, rolling his eyes as he crossed his arms. "Small fee, my ass!"
Before Seraniti could respond, the maid knight let out a small, deliberate cough, drawing their attention back to her.
"Don't bother with this oaf," she said, flicking a hand dismissively in the Jötunn's direction. Her cold gaze landed on Seraniti, scrutinizing her. "I'm guessing you're this useless maid's master, no?"
The words struck Zora harder than any blade could have. She visibly staggered, ears flicking downward as if she had been physically stabbed.
"Mmm," Seraniti hummed in response, pretending not to notice Zora's dramatized heartbreak.
The knight exhaled sharply, as if already regretting the conversation. She strode toward them, stopping only to deliver a light chop to the top of Zora's head, the motion as casual as it was dismissive.
"Knowing my master, he'll take help from anyone. Sigh... we've only got half of our normal numbers anyway."
She stared at Seraniti, her gaze empty of any amusement. Her next words weren't a question. They were a warning.
"You won't cause trouble, right?"
Seraniti blinked, tilting her head slightly.
"Huh? Ah! No… I'd like to leave as soon as possible."
Her words were casual. Zora picked up on it immediately and let out a quiet chuckle. The air between them was turning too strange for her taste.
Then—
Another explosion.
Smaller than the last but still powerful enough to shake the walls, rattling the glass that hadn't already been shattered.
Seraniti turned her attention toward the worsened street below as she observed the newly formed craters and bodies littering the streets.
"Sooo.... can we take a vow?" she asked.
The maid knight crossed her arms, her tail curling into the shape of a question mark.
"Do you really want to? There's no point in doing so."
Seraniti turned away slightly, arms crossing over her chest as she lowered herself into a seated position.
"I just want to do it again."
The knight's expression barely changed, but there was something in her gaze—a flicker of something as if she was staring at a fool.
Seraniti frowned, mildly irritated by the look before responding.
"We both know you're lying. In what country would I trust a complete stranger?"
The knight's tail swooshed lightly, her body tensing as a vein pulsed against her raised fist.
"Hah?! I am a M A I D Knight!"
She emphasized every letter, leaning forward like a mother scolding her children, one hand pressed firmly against her chest as she spoke with absolute conviction.
Seraniti barely resisted the urge to laugh.
"Fine! Let's make one right now!" the knight declared, her voice filled with determination that was likely unnecessary.
Seraniti grinned, the kind of grin that screamed victory, as she stood up in an instant, appearing in front of them so quickly it was almost unnatural.
The knight stared at her, unimpressed but already resigned to the situation.
"Little knight, stand here. You'll be the observer. Every vow needs three people."
Zora, still pretending to be wounded from earlier, took her time stepping forward before taking her place between them.
"You two hold hands—just one."
Seraniti raised an eyebrow at the instruction but didn't argue, extending her hand toward the knight.
"Vows—or pledges—are part of the Fable Type, separate from the Ancient Types," the knight explained, her voice taking on a teaching tone as if she had done this many times before.
She grasped Zora's free hand before glancing at Seraniti.
"Seraniti, right? That's what the card says. Anyway, just repeat after me."
Seraniti barely acknowledged the comment, glancing down toward her pants where part of her card hung.
"Now, Seraniti, gather manas in your hand."
She did as instructed, a faint sheen of colors flickering over their hands, the magicules shifting as it moved between them. The knight mirrored the action, her own manas looking ever so slightly different.
A glint flickered in her eyes before she spoke.
"I, Ĉiela, enter a vow with Seraniti."
As soon as she finished, the room dimmed slightly even though the lights were smashed.
Faint, white silhouettes emerged from behind the two of them, their forms flickering like distant figures lost in time.
Zora's eyes glowed faintly, a subtle sign that she was recording the process, a small sigh leaving her lips as she observed the ritual.
Ĉiela's voice was steady, matter-of-fact as she continued.
"For a minute after the vow is made, I cannot lie. As well as Seraniti."
The silhouettes moved, their forms leaning forward, placing their hands on the shoulders of both knights, their fingers outstretched, reaching toward one another.
Seraniti met the gesture with equal weight, her voice holding no hesitation.
"For a minute after the pledge is made, I cannot lie. As well as Ĉiela."
The figures pressed their hands together, their forms briefly solidifying before pausing.
Then, Ĉiela gave a single nod.
"Now the last part. Little knight, say the magic words. Any will do."
Zora blinked.
"Umm... Vow accepted?"
The moment the words left her lips, the silhouettes collapsed into each other, crashing together in an instant before dissolving into particles.
The lighting returned to normal, the ritual complete.
Seraniti hummed a small tune.
Ĉiela let out a quiet sigh, rubbing the bridge of her nose.
"There. It's done. You happy now?"
Seraniti's grin widened.
"You tell me. You can't lie, remember?"
Ĉiela exhaled through her nose, her posture steady, yet there was a flicker of something unreadable in her gaze. She held Seraniti's eyes before speaking with absolute conviction.
"Sera. I love you."
The words left her lips with such weight, such deliberation, that the room itself seemed to pause.
The Jötunn, who had remained silent for most of the exchange, simply closed his eyes and sighed, as if he had witnessed this before.
"Eh?!"
Seraniti stiffened, her body locking in place as heat crept up her neck, her conscious scrambling to process what had just been said.
She took an instinctive step back, her eyes widening, face flushing as her hands twitched slightly at her sides.
"Th-This is too fast for me! We just met!"
Her voice cracked slightly, betraying her inner turmoil, her usual composure completely shattered by the blunt declaration. She looked away, her eyes darting toward anything but Ĉiela's face, yet every few seconds, she couldn't help but steal quick glances at her.
Ĉiela didn't flinch.
She remained perfectly composed, her expression blank but her fingers lightly touching her own cheek, covering part of her face as if to shield herself from Seraniti's reaction.
Then, she spoke again.
"As a little sister."
The weight in the air shattered instantly.
Zora, who had been barely holding it together, turned away and giggled, the sound muffled as she covered her mouth with her hand.
Seraniti, however, stood there, completely paralyzed, the words hitting her with the weight of a speeding truck.
Her face burned brighter, but this time it was with pure embarrassment.
"Wha—?! Huh?! Th-The hell was that pause for?! YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THAT AND THEN THROW 'LITTLE SISTER' AT ME!"
Her ears turned red, the heat crawling all the way up to the tips as she tried to compose herself. But it was too late.
Zora, now openly grinning, clapped her hands together, tilting her head dramatically.
"Aww, Sera's still a girl at heart~."
Seraniti glared daggers at her, still reeling from the emotional whiplash.
Ĉiela simply blinked, her expression unfazed, though there was the faintest ghost of amusement in her eyes.
Seraniti huffed, crossing her arms, still suspiciously flustered.
"I hate all of you."
Zora snickered.
"Yeah, yeah, love you too, Mashaa~."