Through the entrance of the Wolves Den, a large figure forcibly made his way inside the Black Wolves' home. His hand alone was larger than almost half of Alice's height, at only four-foot-nine. He was armor clad from head to toe as he pushed open the door.
He was so tall that even in front of the large double doors, his helmeted head was just barely visible. He stood at a staggering ten-foot-one in height beyond where Alice could see.
Her trembling had taken over her completely to the point she could hardly even stand. She fell backward onto her hind, pushing away with her hands and feet from the front door entrance.
The large male stepped inside with a deep quake of a step from his black armored foot. His other hand pressed onto the roof of the tall double door entrance and ripped it to allow his head through. The helm on his head was shaped like a dragon's; his features even more menacing now as his face came into view.
His eyes were pitch black, and his skin was as pale as snow; like a corpse that refused to die and came back as a vampire. This man frightened Alice to the core as she persisted her frantic crawl back. His features weren't the only thing she feared… no… she also feared what this man could do—and what he had done.
With her eyes watering and her body shaking uncontrollably, she barely uttered the words, "W-w-why… are y-you… Here, Drakthor?"
The large male, Drakthor, grinned, revealing his yellow daggered teeth. When he breathed, she could see the mist from his mouth as he spoke; mist of cool steam rather than hot breath. His voice was like large, rusted gears grinding in her eardrums, "Now, Alice… why so terrified? I only came to reclaim what's mine. You belong to me after all…" his heavy footsteps inching closer to her, it was as if she hadn't been moving away from him at all, "Do you have any idea how hard you are to track? Who knew you'd be hiding in plain sight here in the Valley all this time…"
"H-How… how did you find me?" she asked, terrified.
Drakthor stepped closer as his heavy voice lingered in the air. Again, his giant footsteps shook the ground below. Alice tried to get up, but she was too frightened—too petrified even to speak straight or scream. Shock was finding her—too near, too soon.
This large, menacing man in front of her now… Why had it just been her alone here with him, of all people? Of all times?
"Be a good girl and just come with us. I promise, I won't trash the place if you're good mannered… well… maybe a little… what is this place anyway? Metallic features outside, gothic features inside… Tacky if you ask me…" he spoke so slowly it was almost irritating. But Alice could do nothing, let alone object to him. His presence alone sucked away all the confidence she had—if there was any to begin with. He met his haunting eyes back at her after surveying the place, "And your outfit… what are you wearing, dear child?" His words felt as if they were crawling on her skin; goosebumps rippling throughout her like a disease.
Drakthor glanced back at the part of the door entry that he ripped open to let his head through, "Don't worry about the door, I'm sure whoever lives here with you will be so grateful that was all I did to the place, that is… if you don't resist. Last thing I want to do is hurt you again, dear Alice… That would be a shame. You need your hands to open doors after all… and other reasons…"
As Alice glanced past the large male to the side, she noticed, just outside the door, a horde of his fellow grunts, mage bandits, spanning out as far as her eyes could see.
How had they sneaked into this area without Code, Havoc, or Yuna noticing? Had there been a Sensory mage within their ranks that hid their presence? she thought. Even so, Sensory mages can only hide the presence of twenty or less other mages… there were hundreds out there. Regardless of how, this was not the moment to be alone at the Den.
She barely mustered the courage to stand even though she was afraid. Still shaking as she had begun to get up from where she was sitting; her mouth twitched, looking like a thin squiggle on her face. When she met Drakthor's large, frightening-looking eyes, hers watered even more as it had felt like looking at a dragon when looking up at him.
"I-I…" her voice stuttered. Eyes, body shuddering.
"What's that? Speak up if you're going to talk, girl," he snarled. His still creepy voice was replaced by harsh rage, that wicked smile remaining across his face—commanding her it seemed.
"I-I'm…" She closed her eyes to hopefully gain the courage to finally say what she had been building up from her chest. "I'm… NOT GOING ANYWHERE WITH YOU!" She at last said, breath heaving afterward.
Drakthor stopped grinning and just stood there. Tall. Frightening.
His pitch-black pupils even seemed to dim in shade as he began to lose his patience, "No. This won't do…"
Without warning, he raised his large right arm, and then a loud bang sounded from behind him. At the same time as the sound, the walls and front entrance of the place shattered and blasted away behind him, revealing the outside. It was as if the mere pressure of his armor clanging had caused a shockwave with enough force to shatter the Den's walls. The blast was so harsh, even, that Alice lost her balance and fell again to her hind, gasping as she did.
Along with the morning sun and dust that entered the place, the man's army had become more revealed to her. Hordes of black armored mage bandits riled behind him, feet away from outside.
"You hear that, men!? Alice said she's not going anywhere with us… You all know what happens when one of my own resists me… right?" he shouted, and the mage bandits behind him roared vehemently. He was glancing back slightly at them, and then focused his attention back to Alice, "See? Even they agree. Looks like I'm going to have to break your arm, stupid girl."
He grew even more black armor now. It was etched abnormally in random places, and it shot out like spikes on his arms. He then raised one of them and swung it down in a haymaker-like fashion down onto Alice, but just in time…
The sound of metal clashing echoed as Alice knelt to her knees, unscathed… A shadow of a tall woman dressed in a maid's outfit hovered over her now; her short maid's skirt fluttered in view.
"Miss Alice, are you okay?" the tall maid asked worriedly. When Alice glanced up at her, she noticed her wavy, medium-length purple hair with distinct blue streaks in it. Her slender arm extended onto a heavy steel beam she had used to block the armored swing.
"M-Milo!" Alice stuttered, relief in her tone.
"My apologies… I was doing some maintenance in the back when I heard you call me to get to the door. When I heard you cry out, I took a steel beam from the ceiling and rushed over here. I hope you'll forgive my lateness… I -I'll fix the beam later… and I'll fix the front entrance! But right now—" Milo's dark green eyes glinted as she faced this unwelcome visitor, interrupting her own thought. "A fully armed grown man swinging at a young, innocent girl,"—straightening her pose and flexing her hard-earned, tone muscles as she used the heavy beam to prop herself up; Drakthor's arm still stuck and pushing against it—"You make me sick."
As she stood there now behind the steel beam—which was about an easy six-foot to her—she stood her proud six-foot-five height to Drakthor's ten-foot-one, looking up at him with defiant eyes regardless of his towering and intimidating presence.
He cackled hideously, rusted gears grinding in Milo's ears. "Then I'll just swing at you!"
He pulled his spiked, armored arm out from the beam and used the momentum to throw his other arm at Milo's exposed right. Milo shot her eyes at it, and once it made contact to her side, a white gas emitted from the strike and filled the place.
The gas spread like wildfire as Drakthor's arm came out the other side, having not hit anything.
Up on the stairs' landing, Milo knelt with Alice, who had her knees bent to her sides, sitting in a chaise on the floor. Milo had put a gas mask on her, which she pulled out from under her skirt. And Drakthor stood up straight, towering over the white gas, now eye level with Milo and Alice there on the landing.
"Gas magic, huh?" he said as his helmet from both sides shut over his mouth and nose like mechanical moving pieces—his pitch black pupils the only part of him showing now, "So long as I don't breathe this, It won't affect me, right?" his thick voice muffled from the armored mask he now wore.
"Miss Alice, please stay here. I will handle this intruder." Milo said, thinking of another way to fight this large male. He had already figured out that the gas had to be inhaled to have an effect. This gas, too, was nullifying magic gas, but the effects themselves were nullified by the mask he wore.
I'll have just to burn that armor off then, she thought to herself. Releasing another type of gas from the pores of her skin—another white gas.
When she had fought Ophelia and Raeyn a little over a week ago, she had a magic-infused weapon—a club that could change the colors of her gas's magic so that she could tell the difference between all of them. She didn't have that weapon on her right now, hence why she was using a heavy steel beam instead.
She was at a slight disadvantage here because she didn't have that club and had to remember which gas was emitted so as not to get Alice caught in the crossfire. This was now going to be a test of her skill as a mage. No magic item to help. Just her and her raw, unaided magic.
As it should be. Gonna have to use my wits for this one, she thought again. As she looked at Alice wearing the gas mask and said to her, "Whatever you do, Miss Alice, do not remove that mask, okay?"
Alice nodded and shuffled herself back some more on the landing. Milo focused back on Drakthor, and she dashed to him with the steel beam to her side. It dragged and skidded as she pushed herself from the landing and propelled herself right to his large face, swinging the steel beam onto the side of his head.
A direct hit, but Drakthor didn't move. With his head only slightly tilted to the side, the steel beam only managed to dent itself rather than him.
"Was that supposed to hurt, tall maid?" he mocked her as she stayed suspended with the steel beam still to his head.
"No. This is." Milo said as she skidded the beam backward on his helmet, causing a spark and then a large explosion, engulfing Drakthor's head now.
It should have blown off his head… theoretically…
His large body stood stationary in the same spot as Milo hopped back down to the floor, the backs of her heels touching the foot of the stairs behind her as she slid that way. She watched to see if this giant of a human would topple over, his head not in view behind all the smoke from the blast.
Then, a low chuckle sounded in her ears from behind the clouds, "That tickled," he said hauntingly as it all cleared.
His helmet was fully closed now. The black armor he wore was almost like a mechanical suit, shifting pieces of itself wherever he needed them—and he controlled it by pure will it seemed.
What the hell? That blast should have cracked open his armor to the very minimum… and at point-blank… Should I have caused a bigger blast? No, that would have wrecked this whole entrance area of the Den, and potentially harmed Miss Alice… We've only just started our services; I can't afford to fail on the second day.
With no time left to think, Drakthor swung a giant, armored arm downward to her. Milo dodged to her left, flipping, and her long legs shot outward as she did. She was very agile despite her height. That same arm began to drag on the floor, creating a ruined path in its wake. She ran from it and then used the beam to push her to the side, avoiding its ravaged trail.
Away from the strike, she twirled her whole body to the left, the steel beam she held dragging behind her, and swung, creating a rippled explosion from the white gas between her and Drakthor. The blast wave shot through him, but his armor was again too thick for the blast to have any critical effects.
This is going nowhere… I need to switch it up, again, she thought. If heat won't do, then—
Her mind was in slight panic, even though her movements and fighting said otherwise. She emitted another gas as she continued to dodge his wide range attacks almost effortlessly. His fists alone were damaging the floors and décor of the place—she would have to extensively clean this up later…
As she dodged like an acrobat, Drakthor attacks had picked up speed. The black armor even stretched out to attack her in the form of extended spikes and flying projectiles.
He mocked her as she circled him, "Is running and dodging all you can do, tall maid?"
Milo clicked her tongue as she found herself in front of him once more. When he went for another predictable attack, she sped down the middle of him, under his legs, steel beam and all. And when she made it past below, she whipped her entire body back with the steel beam carefully positioned just above her, ready for another horizontal swing. Her long legs were spread out as the momentum dragged her heels backward and she swung the heavy beam toward Drakthor. "Eat this!"
Her steel beam spat static in the air like it was hitting friction, turning to ice with each spark until it reached Drakthor.
"Gas magic: Frozen Death!"
As she completed the incantation, ice spread and a sudden cool breeze blew all throughout the entrance hall they had made their battlefield, freezing Drakthor and turning him into a giant ice statue.
The cold blast and frozen ground made it outside where the other mage bandits merely watched, unfazed as their leader had become entirely still.
Alice watched from the sidelines, but she was not celebrating yet. She shouted a muffled cry and began waving her hands to Milo.
"Don't worry Miss Alice, it's over—"
Taking off her gas mask frantically, Alice yelled, "NO! FINISH HIM NOW!"
Milo's face changed from a smile to shock as the air started to get warmer. When she looked back at Drakthor's frozen state, the ice had begun to melt; turning now into slosh.
"I get it. Your gases cause a reaction when friction is applied, don't they?" Drakthor said as the sounds of grinding metal chimed over and over again in Milo's and Alice's ears. The sounds becoming more intense until she finally understood what he was about to do—and she had forgotten about the other gas that still lingered…
Shit! "Miss Alice!—"
A violent explosion emitted from Drakthor's body. The blast surged, reaching even Alice from the landing she was still on, but a rounder shadow of a male obscured her view… From where Milo was, just before the blast reached her, she was swept away by someone else who had arrived.
The explosion blew out the inner walls of the entrance hall, opening the side walls to the rooms behind them, charring parts of the ceiling, and further damaging what was left over.
The black chandelier that Ryo loved so much had shattered into black crystal shards that glittered the air and scattered throughout the place. And the already open front wall opened up even more as smoke emitted from the Wolves Den.
Drakthor stood in the midst of it all; his evil smile glowed from the smoke in Alice's direction. Even his pitch-black eyes seemed to glow through.
But when it cleared even more, what revealed to him was a shell on the landing, and Alice, protected behind it…
"Are you okay Miss Alice?" Ulrich asked, armored back facing Drakthor.
He took most of the blast, but his shell said otherwise as it glistened after being struck. The burnt carpets streaming past him, leaving a trail of untouched red carpet where Alice occupied.
"I-I'm fine. Thank you, Ulrich…" she said with a hint of calm behind her frantic voice. "Milo!" She—"
"She's fine," he replied.
"But…"
"There's three of us, remember?"
As Milo rubbed her eyes, she whipped around in a panic, "Miss Alice!"
"Miss Alice is alright, big sis. Ulrich got to her."
Milo's dark green eyes reflected a young girl with pink and blue pigtails, "Kiki!"
Kiki turned her head a bit, revealing one pink colored eye, "I was in the garden in the back when I heard muffled blasts coming from here, we should have been here earlier… forgive our lateness."
"I'm just glad we're all here now to take on this asshole." Milo replied.
Kiki faced the large male that stood there in the black dragon-looking armor and spoke to him now, "My, my… What a mess… How in Keeper's name are we going to explain this to the Black Wolves?"
As her gaze met Drakthor's, her attention was taken to the outside. From there, one silhouette after another came into view from behind the already fading smoke.
"More useless maids? This is getting old fast." Drakthor mocked.
"Useless?" Kiki replied defensively as she whipped a pair of large garden shears she brought with her down and cleared away more of the smoke. Her pink eyes glowered defiantly at Drakthor.
"Ah… my apologies. How rude of me. I should have introduced myself first."
His helmet pieced back the armor covering his face; pale skin bolstering his hideous features from within. Then as the smoke continued to clear, from the massive hole in the wall, hordes of mage bandits dressed in the same black armor appeared behind him, entering the Den from their courtyard clearing. A plethora of them, ranging from the hundreds, extending even into the forest area where they came. It was unclear how many there actually were.
"I am Drakthor, and these are my Nightbanes." He spread his arms wide as his group slithered in, each as ugly as the next—from not only their looks, but by the way they carried themselves as well.
"Did I ask?" Kiki spat. "You force your way into this home and you have the nerve to mock courtesy? At least we were invited. Just who do you think you are, peasant."
Drakthor roared in laughter. "You have spunk for a frail looking girl. I can see in your eyes you have a rare ability…"
Kiki remained steady; her stance not shifting in the slightest.
"Of all the times that none of the other Black Wolves are here…" Milo said as her eyes scanned the outside, there was too many of them to count.
"True, but look at it this way big sis…" Kiki stepped forward, dusting her pixie maid dress, "we can finally extend our other services here."
"Heh… Well, that's convenient, isn't it? After all…" Milo said as Ulrich retracted the shell from his partial transformation back to his human form, turning around to finish her sentence, "Arabella Housekeeping isn't just a housekeeping service," he said pompously toward their foes.
"You can thank your sister, Belle, for this… We owe her and the Black Wolves our lives for this second chance. There's absolutely no way we're just going to let these thugs continue to trash this home!" Kiki added, speaking to Alice now and positioning herself with her 'weapon' of choice. "So please, Miss Alice, let us fight for you."
Kiki grabbed both hilts of her large garden shears and opened it. From the tip of it, a poof appeared and a high-pitched laugh echoed from the bladed mouth, revealing a cartoon-looking shark, Hehehehe… it chuckled.
Kiki taunted Drakthor again. Her pink eyes sparkled as she challenged him, "Now… Why don't you try fighting us together, you rude guest? There's a reason we were chosen as the former Executives of the Blue Phoenix Knights."