12-11-2016, 06:04 PM
Across the field stood a young girl, barely covered by a ragged, faded shawl. She could’ve been anyone’s poor daughter, if not for the claymore in her hands. Wielding the massive sword, almost as long as she was tall, effortlessly in one hand, she strolled towards a cliff in the distance. The ground around her was marred by deep craters and long furrows, a remnant of the battles had happened here. As she walked, outwardly calm, a band of warriors appeared at the top of the cliff.
“Priscilla,” hissed Clare, as she dove off the cliff, towards the girl. Anything else she had to say was swallowed by a mighty roar of rage. Clare landed nimbly as she brought her sword down in an overhead swing, smashing into the ground where Priscilla stood a moment before. The others warriors followed Clare’s lead and moved to surround the girl.
“At last, you have arrived,” stated Priscilla calmly, as she moved to parry and dodge her way through the multitude of strikes. “Let’s see if you can even scratch me.” Priscilla smiled smugly. “I’ll even hold back my power. I’m sure it’ll be fun.”
Hearing Priscilla’s taunts, Clare launched herself forward. She channeled all her power into her right arm. Her blade swung through the air, faster than the eye could track, again and again, striking blows that should’ve been lethal. And yet, despite the speed, each strike was parried effortlessly by Priscilla.
“Quicksword, huh? It’s been a while since I’ve seen that technique.” Priscilla spoke casually in between the blows. “You might have the power, but you’re too slow. Even slower than the original user. And you can only use it so many times in a day. Am I right?” Clare didn’t respond as she continued to press the attack, along with her teammates. “That’s some coordination you’ve got with your team. Fought together for years, haven’t you?” She laughed. “Too bad it won’t be enough.”
Clare ignored the demon who looked like a girl. She struck a relentless flurry of blows, mixing her swings with kicks and punches. To those who didn’t know Priscilla’s true nature, the outcome of the battle seemed obvious. Seven of this generation’s greatest warriors, one of who had nearly singlehandedly defeated the entire organization of warriors, against a single, ragged girl. And yet, as the girl deftly wove her way through the attacks from all around her, it was the warriors who were pushed back.
“Tired already? I’m disappointed. I had great hopes for you, you know?” Clare gritted her teeth as Priscilla’s words struck home. Her arm felt like lead weights and her swings felt as though they were moving through syrup. “What happened to your determination to kill me? Is this all you have to show for your years of training?” Clare lunged towards the girl again, preparing to slash with her quicksword again.
“Again? Didn’t you learn the -” Priscilla’s taunts were cut short by a figure streaking towards her from the left, moving fast enough to appear to leave afterimages in her wake. “Hmmm? A simultaneous attack?” She fell silent, busy dodging the concurrent attacks from both sides. Despite both warriors attacking with all their might, none of their hits connected with the lithe little girl.
“No way ...” muttered one of the warriors.
“Not bad. Not bad at all. A little further, and you might’ve actually grazed me.” The girl grinned widely. “Anyways, it’s been fun. Time to end this farce.” Hearing this, the warriors closed in with renewed vigor, seeing their last chances of victory slipping away. Priscilla began to transform. Her skin took on a grey tint and became scaly. From her forehead, a horn began to emerge. Bony wings, held together by a thin layer of membrane, sprouted from her back. Her arms became bony as well, and her hands turned into claws.
Momentarily distracted by her transformation and the renewed, almost desperate attacks from the warriors, Priscilla didn’t notice that Clare had slipped behind her until the cold steel of the claymore sliced through her right arm. Even as she dodged away, her right arm already began to reform. Within seconds, the monster, who was once Priscilla, had completely regenerated her arm.
“That won’t be enough to kill me,” laughed Priscilla. With that, she began to counterattack in earnest. In a matter of seconds, her attacks overwhelmed the defences of the warriors around her, inflicting deep gashes through their armor. Seeing her companions injured, Clare rushed forwards with powerful battlecry, placing all her might into a final strike.
“Always the same, charging in before you’re ready.” As Priscilla spoke, focused on Clare, a thrown claymore sailed through the air. “Let’s -” Thunk. Her eyes widened with confusion as she looked at the claymore that was lodged in her throat. For an instant, she was caught off guard. Though it was only an instant, in a close battle, it seemed like an eternity. Clare full advantage of the distraction as she dashed towards the undefended monster.
“Quicksword!” With a final, mighty swing, Clare’s sword tore through Priscilla’s body, slicing into it a moment before Priscilla brought her sword up to parry. She continued to swing, hacking the body into pieces before it could regenerate.
For a moment, everyone stood still, unable to believe their eyes. They stared at the former body of the strongest being in the land, needing to confirm that it was dead, for good. As the remnants of the former monster remained unmoving, the warriors broke into celebration.
“You need to rest. You’ve pushed yourself far beyond your limits today.” Clare felt a hand on her shoulder, guiding her towards the joyous group.
“I can still walk ...” Even as she mumbled, Clare felt her knees buckle, almost collapsing onto the ground. The world around her disappeared into a dark void.
A voice spoke from the darkness.
“Priscilla,” hissed Clare, as she dove off the cliff, towards the girl. Anything else she had to say was swallowed by a mighty roar of rage. Clare landed nimbly as she brought her sword down in an overhead swing, smashing into the ground where Priscilla stood a moment before. The others warriors followed Clare’s lead and moved to surround the girl.
“At last, you have arrived,” stated Priscilla calmly, as she moved to parry and dodge her way through the multitude of strikes. “Let’s see if you can even scratch me.” Priscilla smiled smugly. “I’ll even hold back my power. I’m sure it’ll be fun.”
Hearing Priscilla’s taunts, Clare launched herself forward. She channeled all her power into her right arm. Her blade swung through the air, faster than the eye could track, again and again, striking blows that should’ve been lethal. And yet, despite the speed, each strike was parried effortlessly by Priscilla.
“Quicksword, huh? It’s been a while since I’ve seen that technique.” Priscilla spoke casually in between the blows. “You might have the power, but you’re too slow. Even slower than the original user. And you can only use it so many times in a day. Am I right?” Clare didn’t respond as she continued to press the attack, along with her teammates. “That’s some coordination you’ve got with your team. Fought together for years, haven’t you?” She laughed. “Too bad it won’t be enough.”
Clare ignored the demon who looked like a girl. She struck a relentless flurry of blows, mixing her swings with kicks and punches. To those who didn’t know Priscilla’s true nature, the outcome of the battle seemed obvious. Seven of this generation’s greatest warriors, one of who had nearly singlehandedly defeated the entire organization of warriors, against a single, ragged girl. And yet, as the girl deftly wove her way through the attacks from all around her, it was the warriors who were pushed back.
“Tired already? I’m disappointed. I had great hopes for you, you know?” Clare gritted her teeth as Priscilla’s words struck home. Her arm felt like lead weights and her swings felt as though they were moving through syrup. “What happened to your determination to kill me? Is this all you have to show for your years of training?” Clare lunged towards the girl again, preparing to slash with her quicksword again.
“Again? Didn’t you learn the -” Priscilla’s taunts were cut short by a figure streaking towards her from the left, moving fast enough to appear to leave afterimages in her wake. “Hmmm? A simultaneous attack?” She fell silent, busy dodging the concurrent attacks from both sides. Despite both warriors attacking with all their might, none of their hits connected with the lithe little girl.
“No way ...” muttered one of the warriors.
“Not bad. Not bad at all. A little further, and you might’ve actually grazed me.” The girl grinned widely. “Anyways, it’s been fun. Time to end this farce.” Hearing this, the warriors closed in with renewed vigor, seeing their last chances of victory slipping away. Priscilla began to transform. Her skin took on a grey tint and became scaly. From her forehead, a horn began to emerge. Bony wings, held together by a thin layer of membrane, sprouted from her back. Her arms became bony as well, and her hands turned into claws.
Momentarily distracted by her transformation and the renewed, almost desperate attacks from the warriors, Priscilla didn’t notice that Clare had slipped behind her until the cold steel of the claymore sliced through her right arm. Even as she dodged away, her right arm already began to reform. Within seconds, the monster, who was once Priscilla, had completely regenerated her arm.
“That won’t be enough to kill me,” laughed Priscilla. With that, she began to counterattack in earnest. In a matter of seconds, her attacks overwhelmed the defences of the warriors around her, inflicting deep gashes through their armor. Seeing her companions injured, Clare rushed forwards with powerful battlecry, placing all her might into a final strike.
“Always the same, charging in before you’re ready.” As Priscilla spoke, focused on Clare, a thrown claymore sailed through the air. “Let’s -” Thunk. Her eyes widened with confusion as she looked at the claymore that was lodged in her throat. For an instant, she was caught off guard. Though it was only an instant, in a close battle, it seemed like an eternity. Clare full advantage of the distraction as she dashed towards the undefended monster.
“Quicksword!” With a final, mighty swing, Clare’s sword tore through Priscilla’s body, slicing into it a moment before Priscilla brought her sword up to parry. She continued to swing, hacking the body into pieces before it could regenerate.
For a moment, everyone stood still, unable to believe their eyes. They stared at the former body of the strongest being in the land, needing to confirm that it was dead, for good. As the remnants of the former monster remained unmoving, the warriors broke into celebration.
“You need to rest. You’ve pushed yourself far beyond your limits today.” Clare felt a hand on her shoulder, guiding her towards the joyous group.
“I can still walk ...” Even as she mumbled, Clare felt her knees buckle, almost collapsing onto the ground. The world around her disappeared into a dark void.
A voice spoke from the darkness.
Quote:“My name is Omni. This is not the world you know.”