The battle in the skies above Neyru was about to begin. Ary Neyru, the eldest princess and commander of her personal army, stood before her 2,000 soldiers. They were her closest, her fiercest—a hand-picked force from across the empire. The soldiers wore matching black and blue battle garb, each holding their weapons with sharp focus. The air around them hummed with the energy of anticipation.
Ary's presence alone commanded the attention of the group. Her long sword gleamed in the sunlight, its blade a reflection of her will—unwavering and deadly. Her black battle dress, embroidered with blue trimmings, fluttered in the wind, and her stance was poised and perfect.
"The Devils have decided to invade us," Ary began, her voice carrying across the troops like a thunderclap. "No matter the reason or the strategy, we will fight back! This world is ours to protect!"
Her words were sharp, strong. Every soldier could feel the pulse of her conviction.
"We will be the first line of defense. Our goal is simple: do not let them breach the barrier of Neyru. We only need to buy our empire enough time to prepare and mobilize," she bellowed.
With a swift motion, she raised her sword high into the sky, the blade gleaming in the light.
"FOR NEYRU!" Ary shouted, the words ringing like a battle cry.
The soldiers below her, their hearts fired by her words, roared in unison.
"FOR NEYRUUUU!!!!" they shouted back, their voices joining in a thunderous chorus that seemed to shake the very skies.
And with that, they took flight, soaring toward the barrier that surrounded Neyru, ready to face whatever the Devils had in store.
----
Outside the Neyru barrier, the Devils were gathering. Their fleets had amassed hundreds of warships, each darker than the night sky itself. These ships were a living thing, pulsing with energy, their jagged silhouettes cutting through the void like predators stalking their prey. Standing in front of these warships, high above the fray, was a towering Devil war general named Torvath.
"Keep going! The barrier won't hold for much longer!" Torvath commanded, his voice a growl that reverberated through the fleet. He had been chosen by Varn, the Devil commander, to lead the charge against Neyru. This was his moment, and he would make sure it was glorious.
The warships rained down bombardments of chaotic energy, tearing at the barrier that protected the world of Neyru.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The barrier trembled violently under the force of the attacks, cracking under the pressure. But despite the strength of the assault, the barrier held firm, reinforcing itself in the face of the barrage.
"Heh," a voice rang out from above, cutting through the relentless bombardment. It was Ary, she had just come outside the world's barrier with her army at her back. Her calm, yet unyielding gaze pierced through the chaos below.
"Did you really think it would be that easy to breach our world?" she said, her tone as sharp as a blade.
Her words were filled with both cold fury and unwavering confidence. She had fought in countless battles across the Galaxy, had seen both the horrors of war and the glory of victory. Behind her beauty was something far darker—a warrior's spirit forged in the fires of battle. Ary's battle-hardened soul had earned her the title of "The Silver Sword of Neyru", a name whispered across the Galaxy in fear and admiration.
Her reputation among the Ilyron Dominion, the Ilyron clan, and even across the war-torn corners of Neyru's battlefields was legendary. Her blade was a symbol of balance and precision.
---
Torvath saw Ary standing amidst the wreckage of his fleets. He watched in silence, a grin spreading across his demonic face.
"Well, well," Torvath muttered, his voice dripping with malice. "It's about time someone showed their face."
Ary didn't respond. She merely moved.
In an instant, her body blurred. She appeared above several of the devilish fleets, her long sword already drawn. With a single, swift motion, Ary swung her blade horizontally, the force of the strike cutting through the air.
BOOOOM!
The impact was catastrophic. Entire fleets disintegrated under the sheer power of her blow. Ships exploded in clouds of fire and debris, torn apart by the shockwave of Ary's strike.
"Damn!" Torvath growled, clenching his fists. "That's more than I expected."
But Ary wasn't done.
"Don't let them breach the barrier—NO MATTER WHAT!" Ary shouted to her troops. She was already moving again, her sword flashing as she prepared for another devastating strike.
But before she could reach the next target, a dark shadow appeared in front of her. Torvath had made his move. He launched himself toward Ary, his massive fists slamming into the air with terrifying speed.
BANG!
Ary barely had time to react. The blow landed squarely on her jaw with the force of a mountain collapsing. The impact was so powerful that ripples of energy blasted through the surrounding space, shaking the very fabric of reality.
The shockwave sent Ary flying backward, crashing into the debris of the destroyed fleets. Her body hit the wreckage with a sickening sound, but she was quick to recover. Her eyes flashed with fury as she stood up, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.
Torvath hovered in the air, his dark form looming over Ary. His deep, gravelly voice was filled with amusement as he analyzed her strength.
"Hmmm... Late-Stage Domain Forging, huh?" Torvath mused, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Well, that makes things interesting."
With a devilish grin, Torvath shot forward again, charging at Ary with murderous intent.
----
As Torvath gave chase, the clash between Ary and the Devil general escalated. The rest of the battle raged below them, with Ary's forces clashing against the vast swarms of Devil soldiers pouring from the fleets. The forces of Neyru and the Devils were locked in a deadly dance, their soldiers clashing with unimaginable force.
Ary and Torvath continued their aerial duel—blades flashing, energy crackling as their attacks collided. Ary's movements were swift and precise, her strikes filled with deadly intent. Torvath, however, was relentless, each of his punches sending shockwaves through the air.