Blood gushed like a fountain from a woman's head, while her naked body was pierced by a blade for the last time. The last expression her face emitted was one of ecstasy.
Her body was severed; her four limbs, torn off at the root. But her expression was not of pain, it was madness; a madness that Korelia had only seen once in her life, when the crowns and the men who wore them fell beneath the flames of the...
"What a waste," Korelia murmured to herself as she frowned. That woman had died recently, which in itself was dangerous; her killer was probably close. Maybe too close.
And time would prove her right.
The sound of something crawling and regurgitating was heard behind her, the sound of something dead being twisted and desecrated.
Suddenly, where the corpse of the unknown woman had been before, a deformed and fierce figure emerged. That figure was none other than the same woman who had died before, but now transformed into something different.
"What evil sorcery is this?" Korelia growled to herself as she immediately materialized a wall of water that trapped the dancing figure of the undead woman.
And then she realized that her appearance had changed. Her jaw had lengthened slightly, while reddish fur now covered her features. The human traits of most mortals she had seen no longer remained, despite the different races, but the face of a beast.
Of a fox.
"Evohe, evohe, oh Bromius!" exclaimed in an ecstatic tone the woman, who now had the appearance of a fox but the body of a woman.
As she collected her own blood from the ground with her hands, she drank it as if it were wine, while dancing ecstatically and drunk with ecstasy.
Her body, as if it were a force that ignored the elements, rejected the water blocking her path; and when Korelia shot needles or spears of water at her, she rejected them in the same way. She seemed impervious to the elements as she shouted an unknown name in tongues.
"That power is not something a mortal can evoke," Korelia cursed as she retreated.
Her gifts came from her will and her own body. She had restricted herself to using only the water element, because she knew there was someone watching the spectacle from the top: the Magister Elektrim named Varega. And she didn't want to alert him.
After all, her spiritual root was more than abnormal, since it was what allowed her to change her appearance freely. While her ability to manipulate the laws of nature came from her own domain; she called it in a specific way: Star Soul. It was different from the spiritual root, as she felt that, although she had been born with the Star Soul, it didn't awaken until she finally came into contact with her subconscious.
"Damn it, she's too fast," she growled to herself as she backed away.
In an instant, the fox woman had arrived before her and struck in her direction with bare fists.
Korelia transformed in an instant into a swallow escaping the woman's reach, to return to her normal appearance and strike her with a water saber in the back.
"What?" Dazed, she saw how suddenly the apparently weak creature shattered dozens of tiles on the floor despite shattering her own arm. At the same time, the saber shattered her spine.
But even so, a supernatural force gave her energy to turn around and run in her direction again like a mindless beast. Every chaotic movement seemed like a dance seeking to kill her and shed blood for her goddess.
"What ridiculousness, damn it."
She decided to momentarily abandon precautions and, suddenly, behind her conglomerated dozens, if not hundreds, of water particles that materialized into dozens of flying swords.
"Quo me in siluam uenatum uocas?" The fox woman murmured those words in a questioning tone.
Before being pierced simultaneously by dozens of swords.
When the scene had ended, no trace remained of the pitiful woman, and Korelia only felt terrible disgust and absolute pain as she held back nausea.
Killing a warrior was different from killing a woman in an unknown state; and that probably wouldn't be the last time. That thought only caused her more disgust as she looked away from the scene.
"Interesting," growled an unknown voice.
Suddenly a new figure emerged from the corners of the arena passing through one of the passageways; a figure escorted in turn by two figures exactly like the ones she had killed. But the one leading maintained her human appearance, although she was totally naked. Her body was covered in red paint that barely hid her parts, but her fire-red hair seemed to burn not with flames, but with desire and madness; emotions and not energy. A presence that infused madness not into the bodies of mortals, but into their souls and minds.
"You are a Maenad," said Korelia surprised upon understanding the nature of her power.
It was said that the Cult of the Maenads was an ancient cult that used profane powers; it had originated in the west but had spread to the southern continent and then to the east. She had heard rumors about them: women who practiced orgies and bloody rites of sacrifice and mutilation. Now she truly was a witness to it. And then the scarlet-haired figure revealed her appearance causing in turn a distortion in the very air, while the same madness that had invaded the minds of her cultists was trying to make its way into Korelia's own mind.
...
The battle cries and spilled blood could be seen with visceral and almost overexposed clarity in the image projections floating in front of the stands of the different boxes of the huge circus.
And in the highest and most luxurious box, where the most powerful lords of Maeve or their equivalents had the right to enter, the Lord of Maeve himself, Garou Aime, was absent.
Replacing him was none other than another existence; an existence that for many nobles of Maeve was even more terrifying than the rebellious Hegemon in Tara.
"That girl will die," Varega said with a tone full of disdain, while maintaining his regal bearing and arrogance even though these were not his domains.
But he had the philosophy that ostentation made the king, not the title; a philosophy that worked relatively well with the rich and fearful aristocrats of Maeve. After all, the Feynir were famous for being wise and austere, but sometimes wisdom could be confused with cowardice, or vice versa.
"Yes, my lord," said one of the nobles; his wheat-gold hair and blue eyes stood out among the multitude of Feynirs of different shades of green. "That pissed-on brat will die at the hands of the Cult of Byzantium before the day ends."
Laughter accompanied those words while Varega smiled. He laughed in a dignified way, as if trying to act with decorum even though no one seemed interested in having it. But everyone watched the combat of the two lethal women with inexplicable curiosity; everyone attentive, everyone with their gaze fixed on the person whose life would be claimed in sacrifice to the circus. Even if there were no longer gods to make sacrifices to.
But then everyone fell silent. Everyone overwhelmed by the tempestuousness of the combat. The figure that had attacked was none other than a figure with bright scarlet hair and skin of a light olive hue, the appearance one would imagine of a member of the blood race.
Her nakedness and ferocity attracted the gaze of everyone present, even Varega and other curious existences within the continent itself.
Her name was Neo Patria.
A committee of the Sacred Clans of the northern continent watched the exchange with severe eyes, just like another mysterious figure that even Varega did not dare to provoke.
It was a woman covered in a red mantle over her head that hid her face, dressed in a golden-white ceremonial robe. She was sitting with her head bowed as if meditating, but that hidden existence emitted such oppression that even a mortal lord like Varega couldn't help but feel absolutely insignificant before her. Even if she didn't even pay attention to him.
While her opponent... Well, there wasn't much to say about her. The combat had had an initial resistance, but the unknown one, the dark horse of those desperate for a quick profit, was being overcome.
Her weapon, an ice spear she had materialized using her gifts, was shattered by one of Neo Patria's swift blades. But it wasn't her only weapon: dozens of flying ice swords surrounded the cultist as if they were a multitude of swordsmen and shot toward her.
They were fast, but Neo Patria was faster. Varega could see her movements with some difficulty, but they were perfect: each one destroyed every attack no matter where it came from, doing flips and acrobatics in the air while moving her blades bathed in blood of previous victims.
Her speed was absolute. In an instant, the blade had disappeared into the body of the girl with bright crimson hair to reappear on the other side of her collarbone.
Blood gushed from the wound staining the girl's clothes; a frozen blood sword suddenly emerged from the same wound in the direction of the bloodthirsty woman. But she quickly dodged it and retreated to a safe distance in a few moments.
The confrontation had lasted less than ten breaths, but it was enough so that even some nobles lacking combat experience couldn't react. Neo Patria smiled and said a few words before turning around with a gesture of leaving, despising her opponent.
"That girl..." suddenly murmured the voice of the hooded figure behind the mantle. She had stood up. "I want her."
And without anyone understanding the meaning of her words, they saw her simply shake the palm of her hand slightly. And then she sat back down, as if nothing had happened.
Pain flooded her mind with enormous force, while the strength that should have initially escaped her body now instead increased. But then she observed how her opponent simply withdrew.
The maenad had lost interest in her and had left.
Frowning, she thought about revealing her true abilities and facing that woman in true combat. Unfortunately, that would not be possible.
Because she was attacked again.
Most combatants, although they possessed some code of honor, it was quite varied and did not consider not attacking a badly wounded opponent, especially in an arena where single combats were a luxury beyond a rule.
"Damn crawling bitch," Korelia growled as she barely blocked the sudden attack.
It was another woman, of mature appearance and dressed in black rags and talismans that covered most of her body. Her face was hidden behind a death mask, but her voice resonated clearly as she continued the chant. In her hand, another energy arrow headed toward her, this time toward her neck.
The woman's hands moved toward a knife and suddenly, in an extremely surprising movement, she moved it downward completely severing her hand.
"Evocatio Deverra, emundare mallum."
The words and meaning were unknown to Korelia, but the danger was evident. Korelia quickly summoned dozens of water swords that shot toward the one-handed woman as soon as they emerged. And then it was before her: the strange projectile.
She tried to dodge it, but as if it were a curse, she was unable to get out of the way; every movement was blocked and she was pursued relentlessly.
Until suddenly, faced with an unknown death, she abandoned all care and murmured: "Form Release."
And she was no longer there; she had disappeared.
Everyone was surprised by this turn, from Varega himself to the woman who had lost her hand for nothing. And then the projectile impacted the ground, shattering a portion of the arena floor.
But that was just the beginning. All the dust, dirt, blood, and filth that was on the ground, even the ants and vermin crawling beneath it, disappeared.
The entire ground was completely whitened. Remaining, instead of blood and dust, white marble.
The dazed woman shouted: "Reveal yourself, coward! Your destiny was death, the nu..."
But before she could plead to her gods, suddenly a sword of fire emerged from her chest burning her treacherous heart more than it already was.
Korelia smiled as she murmured: "Damn arrogant bitch. You wanted to kill me and now you complain."
The fire sword in Korelia's hands split the rest of her body in half, causing the woman's expression of panic and disbelief to disappear as she turned into ashes.
"Bitch," Korelia repeated again as she thought about when the battle would end; after all, the circus is not supposed to end until the host decides.
And as if that thought had been heard by the heavens, three trumpet blasts resonated in the distance, while the battles inside the circus stopped.
Everyone was stunned, not by the sound of the end of the battle, but by the quantity. One trumpet meant the beginning of the battle; two trumpet blasts, the end. But three meant moving Magister Onyx's soldiers.
"What the hell... Did that bastard...?" Korelia growled furiously as she stared at the circus box with anger.
She couldn't see Varega, but she could understand his thoughts. She was a woman with the ability to manipulate laws freely; that wasn't normal and obviously he would suspect a treasure in her possession or a special constitution. But everything could be summed up in greed.
"Greedy bastard," she cursed as her figure transformed into wind.
The Form Release had a restriction that it automatically undid if her body received mortal damage. The reason she hadn't returned to her original appearance from the Maenad's attack was because that attack, although it had left her wounded, was not enough to leave her mortally wounded.
Suddenly, dozens of figures dressed in leather and black metal armor emerged from various passageways and corners of the arena itself.
"Surrender, girl, or all the power of the Hegemony will fall upon you!" Varega's familiar voice emerged from the box resonating loudly throughout the circus.
At that moment dozens of weapons aimed in the direction where Korelia had disappeared, but at that point she wasn't there; she had transformed into a breeze, an ethereal and free wind form.
If she wanted she could escape easily, although her own mobility in this form was quite chaotic, since she had to wait for the wind to be favorable to move. And then she saw her and realized she was screwed.
Neo Patria had suddenly emerged on the battlefield. Her expression was indifferent and even the Onyx Guard made way for her with fear.
She was an existence bordering on the level of a mortal lord, a true noble, so her senses were able to extend hundreds of meters without difficulty and sense her. Her.
"Stop hiding, girl. You dared to hold back with me, you won't have a second chance..."
But before she could finish speaking, suddenly the air rippled. The place where the corpse of the woman Korelia had killed had been was now empty; nothing remained, only ash.
Until suddenly the severed hand she had discarded at the beginning of the combat twisted on the ground. Without anyone noticing, its five fingers bled profusely from the tips as they began to carve runes, words, and symbols with their own blood on the ground.
Each one more twisted than the last, each one more corrupted by power and the desire for rebirth and revenge. And then the ground opened revealing a pitch-black mouth beneath them.
And what were formerly known as gods emerged.
And now they could only be called... True Spirits.
...
The woman with the red mantle watched the confrontation with curiosity; surprise did not exist in her gaze, but contemplation did.
The gods had died long ago but their designs were still alive; insulting their memory and achievements was arrogant for the new rulers. She knew it herself, rites were important; violating them could only bring misfortune.
Unfortunately no one had listened to her; the rulers and their advisors preferred their own salvation over prosperity and honor.
Was a savior what the world needed, to create a world that needs saving, or else to harvest them?
The Dead Gods, arrogant and powerful, acted chaotically because that was the way they were born: gods were mortals, their natures were the same.
What must be feared is the eternal, the immutable; that was against the nature of the world.
That was heresy.
Just as the son must surpass the father, and his son his own father, gods functioned the same way: a succession not always paternal, but change always existed.
It was necessary.
"It has begun," she murmured. She saw how suddenly from the abyss that had formed in the arena a black palm made entirely of darkness emerged.
It had eight fingers and eight rings, each symbolizing the eight crimes for which mortals were punished.
"Convocatio, interesting," she murmured. It was the first time she had seen it; she had calculated that ability already existed, but the fact that there were spirits with enough power to be summoned was interesting.
Unlike Evocatio, which simply manifested part of the spirit's power, Convocatio could summon the True Spirit's original body.
"A pity, it's weak," she murmured as she closed her eyes again. The battle was already over, she had already seen it.
There were no reasons to keep watching.
...
"Run, that..." The guard's words died even before his body exploded, when his skin and bones disappeared turning him simply into a sculpture of flesh and blood that collapsed under its own weight.
Korelia and the Maenad had quickly escaped the sudden onslaught of the mysterious hand. In an instant, dozens, if not hundreds of people, both combatants and spectators, died as the hand of darkness twisted in the air with an unknown objective.
But still just as terrifying.
"Damn it, what is that thing?" Korelia growled nervously, as she watched thousands of tendrils of darkness emerge from the huge hand heading toward anyone nearby, piercing their flesh and stealing something from them.
For some it was their heart; for others, their flesh; for others, their skin, their eyes, tongue... The scene was so unpleasant that even the Maenad, who lived in the ecstasy of blood, couldn't help but frown at the scene before her eyes.
"It's stealing, it's collecting corpses or parts of them, it's a ritual..."
"And what is its objective? What does it want those things for?" Korelia growled in response.
But then she observed that the hand that had caused all this had mysteriously disappeared. Trying to track it, she realized that another tendril of darkness headed toward her.
"Disappear!" shouted Korelia as she shot an ice sword in its direction, but it was simply devoured by the darkness.
"Look out!" shouted the Maenad as her crimson blade like blood clashed against the tendril, which as if it could move like a whip and attack like a spear, shot toward her.
The impact sent both backward, but there were more tendrils.
"Shit, this is what I get for being nosy," Korelia cursed as five spears of fire emerged behind her. They burned so strongly that the flames had turned blue and the air dozens of meters away was being consumed by flames.
A screech of pain resonated in the void, as even the hand trembled at the sudden attack. As if its attention dispersed from the crowd, it suddenly changed its target to Korelia.
"Shit," shouted Korelia as she watched with terror a power beyond any she had felt or dreamed of.
Suddenly, four of the hand's eight fingers fell severed while black blood gushed onto the ground.
The blood, like liquid darkness, devoured the unfortunate beings who fell drowned beneath it.
And then the savior revealed himself. It was a crimson figure, wearing bright red armor like fire while being crowned by a three-pointed crown of black crystal.
His black and white eyes looked at the hand and it trembled as his sword, heavy as a mountain, impacted directly against the center of the hand, pushing it toward the hole that had spawned it.
But thousands of tendrils of darkness emerged from the entire palm as the severed fingers slowly regenerated, threatening to return to their previous state.
"Quick!" shouted Korelia nervously. "We have to close the damn portal!" she roared as she consumed the little remaining spiritual energy she had to send a small sea of fire around the hand.
The darkness retreated before the intensity of the flames as if it were afraid of it, the maenad acted accordingly, cut the palm of her hand and threw fresh blood as if they were pellets onto the darkness which suddenly began to burn with black flames that despite their sinister appearance fought against the darkness itself throwing it into the black pit it had come from.
And then the Red Knight simply shattered the void collapsing the portal and, as if it were a vortex, the hand was devoured by the vortex below uttering a shriek, if that infernal sound could be considered that way.
And as the sinister figure of the hand disappeared, the Maenad named Neo Patria frowned as she recovered her strength from the confrontation to realize that her previous rival...
Had simply disappeared.
...
Korelia observed the darkness of the night with certain suspicion.
She had returned to her ordinary appearance from before, and her father, as well as the rest of her family, had not detected her sudden exit thanks to Wednesday, but...
That hadn't destroyed the feeling of unease in her.
Because no one knew that before arriving home, when she had managed to escape any guard or security and was about to reach her property...
Suddenly, the crimson figure that had shattered the hand of darkness had appeared before her, with a casual attitude that gave her chills.
She didn't speak and instantly tried to flee; fighting in that state was useless, but then he spoke.
"I know what you are, girl. My master has chosen you as a successor, or rather, a candidate," said the voice behind the armor, a deep voice without emotions that caused her more chills and weakness than even her own father could cause.
"What do you mean? Who is your master?" asked Korelia nervously.
And then, when he finished saying the words he had to, he simply disappeared.
Leaving Korelia in silence as she returned home, but this time with another goal.
Because she had discovered she was weak, very weak, and that if she wanted to protect this world...
She must...