Absolute Defense

Kaltain never once found death to be anything but horrendous and daunting, yet when Ishaan exercises it upon someone, she finds it strangely aesthetic. He was an icon modeled in luminosity veiled beyond twilight.

She was unable to detect their actual shape and movements, seeing blurry forms here and there, along with flashes of attacks. 

The sound of clashing blades, hammering of pretty bullets against solidness and grunts of pain fill her eardrums.

Blowing out an annoyed breath, Kaltain rested her chin on the top of the golden brown plushie, her hot skin buzzing.

A vibrant heated yellow-white barrier shimmers around her—Ishaan casted it sometime when they departed.

Her gaze follow Ishaan, his speed better than any fighter she's ever witnessed. If one strike failed, he was already poised for another, however, it wasn't that he knew a first attack would fail; rather, he was prepared for extended victory.

Transfixed, Kaltain absorbs it all, hardly paying attention to her surroundings—that is where she almost fucked up. 

“Behind us,” Osyth warns as beams of starlight impale the barrier.

Kaltain eyes dilate. The tree she’s on trembles violently, bark snapping into pieces under the weight of bullets. Wood sputters in various directions. 

Flight envelopes her as she whirls to the side, locking eyes briefly with dark blue eyes that swarm in shattering anguish.

Boom!

The destroyed tree crashes onto the ground, causing a tremor shockwave through the earth.

Dumbfounded by the sudden attack, Kaltain searches for Ishaan, knowing her chances of winning weren’t as high as his, but certainly not as low.

“You don’t have time to look for help,” Osyth says sharply. “The woman is full of impulse ange—

Before her divine companion can continue, another barrage of bullets ring out, seeking out Kaltain like mindful entities.

Fractured lights dot the midnight blue sky, appearing as a milky way portion bridged from outer space. The beauty of the sky is an enigma of history.

Cyralith Esther perches a low branch a few trees away from where Kaltain once crouched.

She uses the beams of starlight as a distraction, her eyes narrowing as Kaltain impressively avoids them. A rifle glistens in her hands, the weapon glowing as it charges up.

Cyralith grits her teeth and aims precisely.

Bang!

Alerted by the sound, Osyth warns Kaltain, who instinctively dodges, so instead of the bullet penetrating her heart, it slams into her stomach, carving a path of vicious pain through her body.

Her knees instantly buckle, her flight glitching, yet she manages to catch herself, making her drop to the ground more gently.

“Go hide and take care of this,” Kaltain commands, shooing Osyth away.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Whatever. Don’t die. You’re not weaker than rage.” The turquoise furry fox expands her size, gripping the teddy bear tendrily in her creamy palms and darting speedily behind the trees.

Kaltain remains unmoving on the ground, forcing her breaths to appear shallow and weak. ‘Every and any advantage counts.’

The light aura around Cyralith seethes, no longer soft, but hardened in an armor of grief. 

Cyralith wasn’t satisfied. Her leader and sister are dead. The despair she feels has to be returned and it must hurt.

Abandoning morals and humanity was far easier when you’ve lost everything.

Nimbly, she leaps down, landing on the solid earth.

“No one questions the law until they face its spear,” Cyralith snarls, her footsteps fierce as she makes her way towards Kaltain. “Then suddenly it’s unjust!”

‘What is this bitch talking about?‘ Kaltain couldn’t know nor did she give a shit. The bitch shot her, though her wound is already healing. 

‘Thank god. I don’t ever want to get shot again. My rejuvenation was a little slow,’ she thought bitterly, comparing the time to her siblings. ‘Bloody hell, a minute. It should be mere seconds!’

As the saint approaches, Kaltain takes note of her astray expression.

‘All she’s doing is moving forward after losing someone precious.’ Empathy settles in Kaltain's chest. ‘How odd, I have to kill her, yet I don’t want to.’ She lets out a quite humble scoff. ‘My wants are insignificant… I need her to die. She injured me. If I let her go, then it's a stain on any legacy I make. That fact alone is terrible.’

An amethyst cannon replaces the rifle in Cyralith hands. She points it acutely at Kaltain, the end bubbling with frenzied energy.

In this precise moment, white liquid-like scales stretch Kaltain's body, the side of her face, throat, and chin becomes scaled like a reptilian beast, with the rest of her face bare, while teal translucent gems glint between the scales. Silver horns craft into a crown above her head.

The dragon transformation trait has two forms; Absolute Defense, Vixen Reptilian armor, is the second one. The armor boosts agility and strength to high heights, granting the user the ability to manipulate pure mana.

Mana is its own force of energy, olden magic only dragons can wield.

Kaltain vanishes from Saint Cyralith sight, appearing behind her swiftly, mana fervently surging in her veins. 

As she cloaks her hands in luminescent bluish silver, the crackling force of mana tickling beneath the scales, Kaltain aims for the saint’s heart.

Fear mingled in shock made Cyralith immobile for a second.

Snapping out of it, she slows the punch. Her animation threads swell in significant exertion.

As the atmosphere turns still and unmoving, the saint stiffly launches herself to the side, bouncing on a tender platform of starlight and discharging the cannon.

Time returns to normal pace.

Kaltain blinks, frowning. Merely half a second pass before a booming sound greets nearby eardrums.

In her peripheral vision, she spots Cyralith switching to a regular gun, along with a hot ball of energy tearing closely towards her. Kaltain gets thrown backwards upon impact.

Saint Cyralith keeps her distance, firing storms of bullets.

Kaltain refuses help from Osyth and focuses her entire instinct on controlling the pure mana streaming within the atmosphere. Despite having not wielded divine energy yet, Kaltain was aware of the difference between mana and it.

Mana flows in reality unceremoniously, as if it didn’t belong, while divine energies drifts like it made up the very air.

The air hums with power as Kaltain channels the force to shield her from the bullets, sending them towards Cyralith.

The saint's expression remains full of wrath. She ignores the sickening ache in her limbs and uses time manipulation once more. The bullets slow and hurtle back at Kaltain, but the same fate happens; a swift, bouncing return.

Cyralith brows knit together. She sidesteps as a starlight barrier takes her place, bursting under the collision of the bullets.

Her senses pick up on Kaltain rapidly approaching and the two begin a dance of return and conqueror. 

Every attack she delivers ricochets off an unseen powerful barrier, almost wounding herself as she attempts to return or block them.

The process holds off Kaltain closing the distance, but not for long.

Purple light sparks Cyralith forearms and kneecap, repairing the wounds inflicted by gunfire. 

Increasing her intelligence in hopes of finding a way to defeat her, Cyralith permits Kaltain fast steps to approach, defending against her own counter attacks, which Kaltain seems to easily retaliate.

The green earth is marred with countless bullet holes, giving off the appearance of a war.

‘I’ll lure her in and then convince her victory is hers before blowing her brains head out. That armor may be tough, but it’s clear she can’t maintain it any longer and her head is the weakest defense.’ Cyralith mind races, her knees nearly giving out as she slows Kaltain movements discreetly.

Kaltain fist reels back and slams a brutal blow to her face.

As the saint stumbles, Kaltain free hand snatches the gun and breaks it.

Cyralith's recovery is prolonged due to her extreme exhaustion, so when she presses a gun to Kaltain's rib, her finger cramps. ‘Damn. I would have been fine if I didn’t use time to attack that man. Where is he? No, it doesn't matter. I shall kill his lover.’ 

She feels Kaltain grab her ankle and menacingly toss her up in the air.

Saint Cyralith swings like a boomerang in the air, her mind spinning. ‘I fucking knew we should have divined our results, but the leader was so sure of himself.’

Regret clouds Cyralith darkening complexion. 

Switching weapons, she holds twin guns and tracks Kaltain's presence, only to realize the intense aura she sensed earlier is no longer boiling.

She doesn’t have an aura, Cyralith realized in horror. ‘Is she hiding it? I didn’t realize she could do that. She’s not fighting with any divine power, so I assumed she was a untrainted cadet. Could she have lured me in?’

With her back to the sky, Cyralith looks below as the might of gravity pulls her down, her eyes darting over the landscape for Kaltain.

At that moment, Kaltain's shadow above alarms Cyralith and then a strong kick rams into her side before she can react.

Boom!

Kaltain rushes back to the ground, wasting no time as she dives her fist through Cyralith's chest like butter with a savage crunch, drawing out a pain filled scream from the chubby woman.

Agony punctures through Saint Cyralith, her gaze falling as she vomits thick blood, spotting a gaping hole right where her heart is.

‘We all want to be somebody,’ she thought with a fading conscience. ‘If we are nobody, we longer have to live.’

Kaltain pulls her hand back and spares the corpse a short glance while nonchalantly shaking her hand, submerging the knotting nerves. 

She takes to the sky with a face full of anxiety and worry. ‘Did something happen to Ishaan? If I’m okay, he has to be. He’s stronger.’

Suddenly, a dizzying sensation blankets Kaltain from head to toe.

‘Oh, right. Fuck.’ Kaltain wheezes. ‘For now, I can only use this transformation for 20 minutes.’

Too exhausted to keep up her flight, Kaltain finds herself collapsing.