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Chapter 5 - Chapter 5 – Ink of Despair... and the Dawn of Creation

That fraction of a second seemed frozen in time. The Stalker Unit lunged towards Eldrin, the aged leader of Ashwind Post. The razor-sharp metallic blade concealed in its mechanical arm glinted menacingly in the morning sun.

Shhhlick!

The sickening sound of tearing flesh was followed by Eldrin's agonized cry. His left arm, severed from the shoulder, flew through the air. Crimson blood sprayed across the dry, parched earth. The villagers who witnessed the horrific event screamed in terror and horror; the sight of their respected leader collapsing in a pool of his own blood was heart-wrenching, almost soul-crushing.

The instant Kiana's eyes registered the scene, they widened in utter shock, then transformed into a furious inferno of rage, as if a long-dormant volcano had finally erupted. A crimson aura, like a solar flare, burst violently from her body. The heat radiating from her was so intense it distorted the air around her. The twin swords in her hands, once mere metal, now blazed with fearsome, blood-red flames!

"ELDRINNNNN!!!"

Kiana roared, her voice hoarse yet thundering with an unfathomable power. She launched herself at the Stalker Unit with a speed that surpassed anything she had shown before, moving so fast she was almost a blur. The flames from her twin swords painted fiery red streaks in the air as they clashed against the Stalker Unit's attack, which was about to strike the fallen Eldrin again.

CLANGGGGG!

Orange-red sparks scattered like fireworks as metal struck metal. The impact forced the Stalker Unit to recoil slightly. It swiveled its head, its crimson lens-eyes devoid of any emotion, to face this new challenger.

Kiana's face was now contorted with such fury it was almost unrecognizable. Her eyes, once as calm and cold as polar ice, now blazed like those of a demonic beast unleashed from the abyss. She abandoned all pretense of defense; every movement, every sword strike, was imbued with devastating power and an all-consuming rage. Her flaming swords hacked Unterschiedslos at the Stalker Unit's black, matte metal armor.

BOOM! CLANG! CRASH! ZAP!

The sounds of concussive force, twisting metal, and clashing blades echoed relentlessly. The Stalker Unit, which had previously seemed invincible and unstoppable, was now being relentlessly driven back by Kiana's wild, unrefined power. It attempted to counter-attack with a myriad of concealed mechanical weapons, but her speed and the continuous onslaught of her flaming blades intercepted every attempt. Cracks began to appear on its armor, and scorched marks marred its surface from the heavy blows.

The villagers of Ashwind, cowering in their hiding spots, watched the ferocious battle with a mixture of awe and terror. This was not the Kiana they knew. Where had this terrifying power, this inferno engulfing her, come from? Some began to pray, while others simply stared, mouths agape in disbelief.

However, power born from such intense emotion has its limits. Kiana could not sustain this extreme output for long. After nearly five minutes of frenzied pursuit and attack, her body began to show signs of strain. The flames on her twin swords started to dim visibly. The speed and force of her strikes began to wane.

"Urk... Raaargh!" Kiana gritted her teeth, trying to push through, but her strength was utterly depleted. Her body crumpled to the ground heavily. She gasped for breath, her chest heaving violently. Her twin swords clattered from her trembling hands, the blood-red flames that had blazed so fiercely now extinguished, leaving only faint wisps of smoke and the smell of burning.

The Stalker Unit, though damaged in several places, its armor cracked and scorched, its primary systems were still operational. It did not let this golden opportunity slip. Seeing that the fiery threat had waned, it turned. Its crimson lens-eyes locked onto Kiana's weakened form, sprawled on the ground. The arm that had been a blade now morphed into sharp, elongated claws. It raised its hand high, preparing to deliver a cold, merciless end to the valiant young warrior.

Leonardo da Vinci witnessed it all, his eyes wide with horror. His heart constricted with an unbearable pain and despair. He saw Eldrin lying in a pool of blood, and now Kiana, the one person who seemed to understand and accept him, was about to die before his very eyes. The feeling of powerlessness that had overwhelmed him in his attic study at Château du Clos Lucé, in the final moments of his previous life, surged back with crushing force.

Suddenly, the piercing cry of a little girl from the village, one to whom he often told stories and sketched animals with charcoal, cut through the chaos. The image of her innocent smile superimposed itself over the memory of his last wish in his old world – the "ideal world" where art and reason would unite humanity, a world without bloodshed, without hatred... The final drop of ink, the stroke of hope he had made on the parchment...

"NO!!! I WILL NOT LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN!!!"

Da Vinci screamed from the depths of his soul, his voice raw but filled with an unshakeable will. The anger at injustice, the grief of loss, the desperate desire to protect the innocent, and the resolution to change this cruel fate erupted with such intensity it felt as if it would tear his very being apart!

The golden paintbrush in Da Vinci's hand, which had lain dull and lifeless for weeks, suddenly vibrated violently! A golden light flared from its tip once more, and this time it was brighter, more powerful, and purer than even when he had created the machine to destroy the spider-automaton! It wasn't an external ink he had tried to find; it was his "willpower," his "determination," and the very "essence of his being as an artist and inventor" that was being converted into pure energy! He felt as if his body was about to be consumed from within, but in that moment, he cared nothing for the pain.

"If this world is built on destruction and slaughter... then I shall 'create' protection and judgment with my own two hands!!!"

Da Vinci swished the golden paintbrush with extreme speed and precision! Brilliant golden ink gushed from its tip, not forming complex machinery or elegant weaponry, but something far more "raw," "powerful," and "direct!"

"FIST OF CREATION!!!"

A gigantic fist, formed from thick, condensed lines of golden light, materialized in mid-air above the Stalker Unit. It was clenched tight, radiating an immense aura, before it slammed down with incredible force onto the Stalker Unit, which was just about to bring its claws down on Kiana!

BOOOOOOMMM!!!

The impact was deafening, like a thunderclap. The immense force sent the Stalker Unit's metallic body flying backward several meters. Its frontal armor caved in visibly, with cracks spreading across the point of impact.

"FOOT OF JUDGMENT!!!"

Before the Stalker Unit could recover or assess the damage, another colossal foot, also formed from golden light, appeared from above, as if an unseen giant was delivering retribution. It stomped down on the Stalker Unit's position again and again, with brutal, merciless force!

CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRUNCH! CRUNCH!

Each time the foot of light struck the Stalker Unit, the ground around it trembled violently. Metal shards from the Stalker Unit's chassis began to break off and scatter in all directions. Its limbs twisted into unnatural angles. Its internal systems were taking critical damage.

The Stalker Unit, in its final moments of functionality, realized it was about to be completely destroyed. Its last-ditch self-preservation protocol activated. Its crimson lens-eyes blinked rapidly, and then the energy core at the center of its torso began to glow with an ominous, intense red light.

"It's... it's going to self-destruct!!!" Da Vinci yelled, his voice weak, but it was too late.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!

A deafening explosion ripped through Ashwind Post. A massive shockwave and a hail of superheated metal shrapnel erupted outwards in all directions. Da Vinci tried to "draw" a golden shield to protect himself and those nearby, but with his remaining, limited energy, he could only manage a small barrier that partially mitigated the damage.

Many villagers who were hiding not far from the blast zone were injured by the concussion and flying debris. Agonized cries filled the air. Black smoke and the acrid smell of burning metal billowed everywhere, obscuring vision.

As the thick smoke slowly began to clear, the scene revealed was one of widespread devastation. Several huts had collapsed. But at the epicenter of the blast, the Stalker Unit had vanished, leaving only a moderately sized crater in the ground and small, charred metal fragments scattered around.

Da Vinci stood, panting heavily, his body trembling uncontrollably from the extreme exertion of power, far beyond what his physical form could normally handle. The brilliant golden light from the paintbrush in his hand was now fading rapidly, until finally, it reverted to being just an ordinary-looking golden rod once more.

The surviving villagers, those who could still move, stared at him with expressions of utter, speechless shock. Their mouths hung open, unable to find any words to describe what they were feeling. Fear, awe, disbelief at what their eyes had just witnessed, and a profound, deep respect were clearly visible in every gaze. They had just been privy to two displays of unimaginable power in a single day – Kiana's furious inferno, and Da Vinci's astounding, creative might.

Da Vinci felt all strength leave his body. He collapsed to his knees, then sat heavily on the ground, the golden paintbrush falling from his limp hand. He felt so exhausted he was on the verge of unconsciousness, but his mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He was glad he had been able to protect these people, but at the same time, he had just revealed his greatest secret to everyone.

The villagers began to regain their senses and rushed to help the injured. Eldrin, despite having lost his left arm and being drenched in blood, was still conscious. Two young warriors supported his battered form as they brought him towards Da Vinci. The old leader stared at the young man who had saved him and his village, his eyes completely transformed. The suspicion that once filled them was now replaced with profound gratitude and awe. "You... you are..." Eldrin tried to speak, but his voice was too hoarse to be heard clearly.

Kiana, who had been thrown some distance by the explosion, was now slowly regaining consciousness. Though her body was battered and severely fatigued, she managed to push herself into a sitting position. She looked towards Da Vinci with an indescribable expression. In her eyes, there was gratitude... amazement... and perhaps, something more complex, something deeper, beginning to form.

Da Vinci looked up at the strange, crimson-tinged purple sky of this world. He knew that from this moment on, his life would never be the same. He was Leonardo da Vinci, an artist and inventor from another world. He was the one the assassins had called the "Chosen One." He was the wielder of the miraculous Brush of Creation. And now... he was the sole hope of the battered Ashwind Post, and perhaps, of this entire crumbling world. The real battle... had only just begun.

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