TU22. Argus Panoptes
Big, thudding steps bounced off the metal walls of the staircase. A single, massive eye gazed at the horizon beyond his people's confinement for the first time in millennia. The high-altitude breeze felt nothing like the stagnant air his nose had grown accustomed to. It was lush.
"We're flying!"
"By Zeus's beard, we are in the sky!"
"Unreal… We truly made it, Forgemaster!" exclaimed one of the cyclopses.
They followed him to the upper deck of the vessel, their gazes sweeping around. With no more mountains boxing them in from every direction, they could look beyond their confinement in the Forge and had the taste of freedom. A collective gasp spread through them, followed by cheers of victory.
"Come on!" Daphia smiled at Marcus.
"What?" He yelled over the noise, tilting his head.
"Own it! It's your achievement!" Daphia's words couldn't reach him. Instead, she grabbed Marcus's thick wrist and shoved it towards the sky.
The hekatons, cyclopses, and the mortal souls of the Forge whistled and cheered to their hearts' content, their voices carrying beyond the rumbling engine below deck. A murmur of relief rippled through the crowd; their worries transforming into light smiles.
Black wings shadowed the sun as Ventiff soared abreast with the vessel. Its red eyes surveyed the path ahead like a vigilant vanguard. Their battlecruiser surged through the wind, drifting away from the fierce battle below.
"What about Aurora?" Marcus blurted, snapping at the clueless nymph.
When she returned a look of dumbfoundment, he rushed to the nearest handrail. The explosions from the clash still rang out, though he couldn't make out any minuscule details. Accommodation tents and even massive hearths looked as tiny as ants from where he stood.
"What—What's going on?" Daphia mumbled, stepping next to him.
The destruction, however, was massive. The west ridge was decimated into a crevice, as if the soil had been gouged out. He surmised Aurora might have caused it, judging by the roaring smoke that was still evident. That was his optimistic mind, though.
The Forgemaster clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. He knew he wouldn't survive a minute if he joined that fight. It was a blessing in disguise that someone had stopped him from rushing to his demise.
Another collective gasp spun Marcus around. A dark mass eclipsed the sky. His eye widened at the swarms of black-winged demons emerging from the simmering curvature.
"It can't be…" He grabbed the warhammer beside him before turning to the shades, "Get below deck, now!" he bellowed, his command quickly relayed by the other cyclopses.
A searing blast shot out from the west. The very air rippled like a wave, swaying the vessel to the side. The shockwave felt physical, shaking the deck with the intensity of a rumbling giant. Immense fire incinerated the demon forces into ashes, leaving only their last wails of anguish.
"That must be her! Aurora's—it's Aurora's!" Daphia shouted, watching in awe as demon ash scattered through the airspace.
The griffin let out a short shriek, sparing a look of gratification as if it could understand the nymph. While Daphia hopped on her feet, celebrating with a giggle, a hand grabbed her wrist.
"Daphia! You must go under deck, now!" Marcus ordered.
"What? Why?" Daphia exclaimed.
Marcus pointed at the flocks of winged demons inching closer. "See? There's still some left! They're coming at us!"
Terror spread among the mortal souls. They rushed like bulls toward the stairway. Shouting, footsteps, and shuffles rang out like a melody of chaos.
Frowning, Daphia could only manage one word. "No…"
"Go now!" He shooed her away, using a little force to knock her towards the fleeing shades.
He made sure she disappeared beneath the safety of the bulwark before turning toward the impending battle.
There was a brief quietness on the vast upper deck.
Those who remained either had one eye or far too many hands. They all looked at him with solemn expressions, gripping their weapons tight. He didn't need to say another word; he didn't need to beg. Together, they would fight to protect this vessel with all their might.
The black griffin led the charge, flapping its massive wings to launch a whirlwind. The swarm scattered across the sky, and massive claws snatched the falling demons from the air.
The screams and giggles of the evil demons echoed nearer. Some broke off, baiting the black griffin away. The remaining forces swarmed the deck, clashing with the Tartarians on board.
"Hold your ground!" Marcus roared.
His hammer slammed into a demon, its wings collapsing like a struck tarp, wrapping into the shape of his arm. He let out a battle cry, swinging wildly at another incoming attacker. Its head smashed into a bloody goo.
Three more circled him. He bared his teeth. His eye remained alert; his ears deaf to the frenzied backdrop.
"Come at me, you ugly demons!"
The first impatient one lunged at him, fangs bared. Marcus loosened his grip on the handle as he started swinging. The warhammer extended, colliding with the demon's skull. A satisfying crack followed, and its red eyes dimmed.
Before he could recover, another demon sank its fangs into his triceps. He grunted. His fist slammed into the creature's head, smashing it to pieces, but the fangs sank further. A sharp pain shot through his arm, but the pain was only a distraction.
The last one came for his eye. His warhammer arched to intercept, crushing the demon as it attacked.
"No good," he growled.
He dared not look at the bloody mess on his arm. The demons' eyes looked at him with predatory intent. He would lie if he said he knew no fear, but it was fear that drove him to take a step forward.
To fight tooth and nail.
The deck was soon filled with the sounds of clashing weapons, fluttering wings, hammering, and thudding — a chaotic symphony born of battle. Hekatons and cyclopses had never been warriors in their history, but this time they fought fiercely and courageously, using all their strength to protect the souls huddled just below a thick metal plate. One by one, their gigantic bodies slammed onto the floor, joining the enemies' pile of corpses.
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***
Amidst the clash of two.
Mist cloaked the red skin of the Supreme Arch Demoness. The wound mended with rapid, unnatural growth, and within seconds, her injury was nowhere to be seen. Though physically she appeared unchanged, deep within, something was shaking.
"I WILL EAT YOUR CORPSE!" Empusa growled with indignation, froth spilling over her chin. Her scowling stare locked onto the silvery elf, as if its intensity alone could burn her foe.
"Enough talk," Aurora said frankly.
Crushing the earth beneath her, Aurora leapt in an instant. Her motion was a blur.
A purple flame of death cleaved the air. Empusa arched back, her feet kicking upward.
Aurora faded out, evading the attack.
Empusa retreated to recover, wings thrashing and a tail whipping back as Aurora attempted a pursuit.
Masterfully switching to a high guard, Aurora parried. A loud clank echoed like thunder. Soil and pebbles flew outward, creating craters in the ground.
"Hmm…" Aurora calculated each strike. Her silver-glowing eyes had been studying her opponent's slight movements for a while. It was true that Empusa was so swift that her mind found it difficult to perceive, but there were subtle gestures preceding every strike.
The way her foe arched her claws, the way she bounced on her feet, even the smallest details — the rolling, twisting, and turning of the muscles underneath — she could see it all. There was a silver lining in the nakedness; the fact that Empusa wore little clothing was her own bane.
Empusa's waist twisted, and in that fraction of a second, Aurora read the movement. Here comes the right swipe, followed by the left wing, and then a tail whip.
The execution was exactly as she predicted, no mistakes. She raised her sword to block the swipe. The impact jolted her shoulder. The powerful wing clashed when she rotated her blade back. The second impact sent her sword flying out of its defensive trajectory.
Then, she did what even Empusa wouldn't dare to think. Instead of sidestepping, she dashed forward, straight into the incoming lash of fire.
Raising her bare offhand, she spread her fingers. "Empyrion-Magnetos!" Aurora chanted. Flaming red butterflies fluttered their wings.
"What?!" Empusa gasped.
Her tail struck a visible wall. A shimmering forcefield blasted the lash, throwing it off. But that was not all, the dual-cast fire pierced through, striking true on a shoulder. The shot snapped Empusa's humeral head out of its socket, the intense heat bubbling the skin of the fireborn demoness.
"Arrrrgh?!" A pathetic howl escaped her lips. Her eyes swam. Empusa faltered, her wings flapping desperately to manoeuvre out of the engagement zone.
Aurora did not pursue.
"What?!" Empusa shrieked, her legs still sprinting in full reverse. Fear shifted into doubt and disbelief that filled her red eyes.
"Empyrion-spear!" With flame forming in her palms, Aurora chanted.
She launched the vicious javelin. Shattering the sound barrier, and before her foe could react, the spear embedded itself into the gut of the demoness.
Heaving and rasping like a beached fish, Empusa's wings flailed in full panic, hoping she could fly to refuge in the sky. She flapped up and down, pulling away. A desperate hop. Mist leaked out like a trail, but when she glanced back, there was no pursuer. "H-How could she match me in power? My D'Arcane should—How?" Words blabbered from Empusa's mouth as her mind reeled for reasons.
Aurora was still on the ground. Wasting no time, the empress held the arc gourd in her hand and greedily chugged the nectar, as much as the arc gourd could generate. Emptied, Aurora dismissed it into a speck of light, her finger wiping her glossy lips.
The demoness's face twisted into the ugliest scowl. "Ugh! How dare you trick me?!" Empusa screamed, her fiery hair bursting outward.
The very sight of Empusa would usually strike fear into the most heroic hearts of men, but that was not the case for Aurora. She stood steadfast, calm as a vast, quiet sea. Slowly, her dignified gaze graced the ugly creature above.
The empress was the one controlling the narrative of the battlefield this whole time.
"Damn you! Damn you! Damn you! Damn you! Damn you! Damn you! Damn you, witch!" Empusa charged up in fury, her red eyes ablaze. But beneath the hate, there was perhaps a flicker of caution, or even doubt.
"Good." Determined, Aurora dismissed her gourd and resummoned the Thanatos-spatha.
A long crossguard with pointed tips adorned the weapon in its fullest majesty — a variance she had never seen before. It possessed a thin but long blade with extremely sharp double edges. Beautiful, intricate etchings of the Ventiff griffin ran along the steel, complete with feathered wings, eyes, claws, glyphs, and artefacts. It was a detail so exquisite that the wielder could feel lost in awe of its beauty for days.
The Zweihänder of Vanquish. Ethereal whispers rang in her ears. Certainly, Thanatos was somewhere nearby, enjoying the unfolding show.
With both hands on the handle, Aurora spun the sword left and right experimentally. The weapon was well-balanced, destructive, while maintaining finesse. Thrust, slash, parry, bludgeon, the zweihänder excelled in everything, provided the strength of the wielder was adequate.
"Excellent choice," she commended. Once again, Death had devised a means for itself. Aurora found herself smirking at the irony. Pointing the tip at the demoness, she defied her. "Any last words, demoness?"
"How arrogant! You mortals, know no bounds! I am the Supreme Arch Demoness, Empusa! I am eternal and the embodiment of bloodthirst! Your blood is mine!" Fully healed now, both claws snapped open in anticipation.
"Hm…," Aurora didn't expect another senseless retort. She fell into an overhang stance, her muscles relaxing.
"One hundred million!" Empusa roared, becoming a jet of blinding light that seemed to bypass space entirely.
"Magnetos!" Aurora chanted.
A crack rang out. A sharp whoosh followed.
And the claws that were supposed to deliver the fatal blow missed.
A clean cut severed the stump at the wrist. Empusa screamed in horror.
Unleashing an overhead spin, Aurora struck cleanly again, slicing a thick wing in half like cutting through thin paper.
"Arrgh—you!!!" The demoness completely lost her composure, unleashing all her attacks blindly. A tail whip, a wing swipe, anything that kept Aurora's advancement.
Her mind went into full reverse, desperate to flee her foe. Aurora leapt forward, her bladework cutting and slashing with controlled viciousness.
"Im~impossible! Cheater! Witch!" Dignity, if Empusa ever had any, was replaced by cowering fear. She realised then that her speed was meaningless. She knew then that her fate was sealed, her demise merely a matter of seconds away.
Relentless, Aurora severed another hand. Droplets of blood released into the air like a spray. Aurora watched unblinking as she advanced, her blade swinging and dominating. Small cuts shredded the demoness, bathing her in her own blood.
Such a gruesome fate.
Aurora struck with a slash. A tail was cut and discarded in the dirt.
"Stop it!" Empusa jumped back, screaming. But her injured wings spun her out of balance, and she collapsed onto the dirt. "Wait!" She screamed and wailed while crawling away in flight.
It was so pathetic that Aurora's expression filled with disdain. Even in her most recent clash with Nohrell Voss Fenrith, that defeated young empress had at least carried dignity to her grave. There had been something behind those heterochromia eyes of hers — was it ambition? The refusal to be defeated? Or simply bottomless greed? She hadn't quite figured it out. That was what kept Nohrell's death from fading into the back of Aurora's mind.
"G-give me a moment! Wait!" Empusa screamed a plea, raising her stumped hands. Entrails, bone, and muscle strains still formed from the spring of mist, slow. Much slower now.
It was just as Aurora predicted; D'Arcane was the most costly magic of all.
With sparkling glows flashing beneath her shadowy sockets, Aurora crept closer. Her scorched steel boots thudded against the soil.
One step, then another. Each one fed fear into the demoness's mind; this mere mortal was invincible. Too invincible to be true. Even the worth of over five hundred million demons couldn't defeat her. How? How exactly? How indeed? The broken mind revealed itself through uncontrollable cries.
Aurora loomed before her foe, her blade glinting in the sunlight. No words were needed. Aurora raised her long blade for the execution.
Iridescent plumes drifted like leaves in the breeze. Aurora froze, her composure faltering. Her senses went haywire at the tingling smell of divine mana. The plumes swarmed and twirled around her, their eyes blinking as if studying every millimetre of her.
"We meet again at last," Aurora yelled, turning to the tall, graceful figure looming in the distance. "Hera!"
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