No Lick of Sense

With a cry of pure fury, Krysta slammed her sword into the earth, the impact ringing with a metallic shriek that echoed through the battlefield. "You are nothing but a foolish, naïve girl, utterly incapable of grasping the most elementary lessons of history! When that happened to me, I gave up everything—my shop, my home… I even left my pet cat to fend for itself." A sneer twisted her features as she seemed to savor the bitter memory. "Two years passed. Despite his incessant apologies and pathetic begging, I hunted him down and opened his throat. Then I raised this army to bring this entire world to its knees."

"That makes absolutely no sense," Cy interjected, his voice heavy with disbelief. "You command your soldiers to violate the women in the villages you conquer. How is that in any way different from what was done to you?"

"It is entirely different," Krysta countered, a grim smile touching her lips. "Those women can never begin to fathom the depths of my suffering. Even if I had them violated by men they once trusted, it would not approach the same agony."

"You believe your pain makes you unique, don't you?" Cera cried out, her voice vibrating with a furious tremor. "But all you've accomplished is the creation of thousands of new victims, each one a mirror of what you once were!"

Before a response could be uttered, one of Krysta’s soldiers slipped behind Cera and drove a fist into the side of her head. Her vision blurred and swam, the world dissolving into a gray haze as consciousness began to slip away. A sudden, refreshing gust of wind washed over her, sharpening her senses and snapping her back to the present.

Cera’s expression hardened into a scowl. "A cheap move, Krysta. But I'm not so easily taken down. Those are the most pitiful excuses for a motive I have ever heard. You will have to offer a better justification than that if you wish to survive this day." She then unleashed a volley of six fireballs that slammed into the surrounding soldiers like miniature rockets, sending them hurtling through the air.

"Not at all," Krysta chuckled, her voice dripping with condescension. “Like your precious friend, Perla Jaquerjaques, the only thing you are owed is a slow and agonizing demise.”

A profound stillness fell over the clearing at the mention of that name, as if the very air had been frozen solid.

Ignis gasped. "No… you cannot mean Grimshaw's Perla?"

"The one and only," Krysta confirmed, her lips pulling back into a mask of pure, malicious joy. "And as a courtesy, I sent her entire family to hell along with her."

"To speak of the dead with such contempt is to invite a terrible fate!" Argent roared, charging forward with his blade held high. Krysta dispatched him with a single, disdainful slash that was both elegant and brutal.

"Argent!" Cera screamed, her heart seizing at the sight of her loyal, eccentric guard falling. "Don't you dare die on me!"

"Tch, such a loud girl," Red muttered, flicking his wrists to send a fan of poisoned shuriken slicing through the air toward Krysta. "He's not dead yet. None of us are going down that easily. Now, you bitch, let's see you handle this!" Mid-flight, the shuriken erupted in flames, accelerating as they became streaks of blazing metal.

With a look of utter boredom, she deflected them with a casual sweep of her blade. A sharp canine peeked out from behind her lips as she smiled. "You truly are a collection of fools. Which only makes my work easier." Raising her sword, she leaped into the air, ascending with impossible speed until she was far beyond their reach.

Cera swallowed a lump in her throat, her gaze fixed on the sky, tracking Krysta’s ascent until she was little more than a distant speck. From that great height, a warrior’s cry echoed down to them.

And then, Krysta’s army began to burn. One by one, her soldiers were engulfed in a fire that seemed to possess its own vengeful consciousness, incinerating them where they stood. Within moments, only Jiro was left, standing agape amidst a field of smoldering corpses.

"Yes! Magnificent work, Cera!" Red shouted. "I knew you had that in you!"

Cera blinked, then blinked again, trying to process the scene. "I… I didn't do anything," she stammered.

"Then… was that Perla's spirit?" Cy wondered aloud, his voice a low rumble. "That method of attack is her signature."

"You're right about that, you damn brat," a woman's breathless chuckle resonated from above. "And I am very far from dead."

"Perla?"

Every head snapped upward toward the highest branches of a great oak tree that stood near the charred skeleton of the storehouse. There, perched casually with her arms spread wide, sat Perla, a triumphant grin illuminating her face. "In the flesh. I came the moment I got the news."

Cera’s eyes were wide with disbelief. "How did you eliminate all of them at once?"

Perla shrugged, a mischievous glint in her dark eyes. "What, you think I got a power-up while I was captured?" Her expression blossomed into a full, genuine laugh. "I intercepted those ghosts you all sent wandering and used a few of them to relay messages to Carmine. The power of word-of-mouth is a formidable thing." She scratched her head, then launched herself from the branch, landing with the light grace of a cat before striding toward them. "Elessa told me where I could find you. And I managed to hitch a ride on the fastest transport in the world."

"Our way?" Ignis asked, his tone skeptical. "You have allies?"

Perla gave a single, sharp nod.

"And what, may I ask, is this 'fastest ride'?" Ventus inquired with a wry smile.

Perla jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. "Hana's small size is deceiving. She packs a lot of power."

As if summoned by her name, Hana dropped from another tree, tackling Jiro and slamming him to the ground, pinning him beneath her. With a contemptuous flick of her finger, Perla snuffed out the defensive flames Jiro had managed to conjure around himself.

Perla cracked her knuckles, a predatory grin stretching across her face. "Try anything, pal, and you're a dead man. It seems the tables have turned."

"You have much to teach me," Cera said, her voice filled with a newfound awe.

"All in due course, my dear," Perla replied, moving to Argent's side to assess his wound. "For now, we need a medic if we want him to see another sunrise."

Hana surveyed the field of scorched bodies and pouted. "Aww, you didn't save any for me. So boring. I should have just let you rot in that warehouse."

"Yes, you should have!" Jiro spat from the dirt.

Hana shifted her weight, grinding his face into the ground. "Shut up."

"Well done, everyone," Cera announced, some of her natural authority returning to her voice. "It would appear this is finally over." She moved to collect the package of bombs Krysta had dropped. "We must secure this."

A manic cackle bubbled up from the ground. With his one free hand, Jiro pulled a similar device from his own pocket. "Too late! I’ve been carrying this one since I left you fools. When I gave Krysta the package, that stupid bitch only received three of them!"

Before another word could escape his lips, Hana twisted sharply. A sickening crack echoed in the sudden silence. Jiro’s body went limp, his eyes wide and vacant. As Hana tossed the armed device, Perla caught it and deactivated it with a practiced, steady hand. Ignoring the stunned looks from the others, the two women started toward the village, Hana supporting Argent's full weight with one arm as if he were a small child.

One week later, as dawn broke, the core members of the Ignis Clan assembled in the fields outside Cy’s hut.

Spreading her arms wide, Perla addressed them. "Cera, I will teach you my techniques. You as well, Cy. And you, Red. But I have a single condition."

"What about me?" Hana whined, but Perla paid her no mind.

"You give me Jiro's former position." The words, long overdue, felt satisfying on her tongue.

"That seems fair," Cy agreed. "But I believe it would be to our collective benefit if we restructured the leadership entirely. You should lead the clan."

Perla laughed. "You're not about to saddle me with that much responsibility." She waved a hand dismissively. "I have studied clan politics my entire life. I know Jiro's position afforded him immense flexibility with very little actual authority. That is precisely why it appeals to me."

"Sister, I believe you should be the general of our army," Cera offered, her tone solemn.

Perla laughed again. "No, thank you. Sister, that is unequivocally the worst job in the entire clan. My condolences that you were burdened with it for so long." Cera’s hands balled into fists, a frustrated noise catching in her throat.

She shot a glare at the twins standing nearby. "This is your fault, Carmine."

Carmine feigned deafness.

"But you were the one who saved us all," Ventus said with a grin.

"Why are the two of you even present for this?" Argent asked, his curiosity piqued. The twins offered no reply.

"He's right, that was all Perla," Cera admitted with reluctance. "My only contribution was yelling at people and killing a few grunts."

"There wasn't much else to be done under the circumstances," Perla reassured her. "Besides, you're only twelve. Maturity requires time."

"You're only three years my senior!" Cera retorted. "Why can't I be as capable as you are?"

Red cut in. "Look, this is not a teenage melodrama. We are here to make important decisions for the clan."

"He's correct," Argent added. Fresh bandages were wrapped tightly around his torso; the wound would leave a scar, but it would heal. "Perla, you have Jiro's former position. Cy, Cera, your roles will remain unchanged. This meeting is adjourned."

"Wait a minute!" Hana yelped.

The others turned to face her with wary expressions. Perla winced; she really had to work on the girl's sense of timing.

"Well," Hana began, collecting herself, "what about a position for me?"

Ignis rolled his eyes. "Is it not obvious? You are a former mercenary. You are entitled to nothing."

Perla held up a hand, silencing him. "Enough. I would be dead were it not for Hana." The simple statement sent a chill down Cera’s spine.

A wave of nausea washed over Perla at the memory. "I was preparing to sacrifice myself to take down ten of Krysta's men. I had just mastered the next stage of my ultimate ability—the power to make a man spontaneously combust from the inside out with a single glance, turning him into a living bomb to incinerate those around him." She tactfully omitted the detail that advancing to this stage had effectively transformed her into the perfect living weapon.

A collective, sharp intake of breath came from the clan leaders.

"I was caught in the backlash from a nearby wildfire, but the technique itself is not fatal. Nevertheless, when I lost consciousness, I was certain I was dead." A small, weary smile touched Perla's lips. "So, Ignis Cheng, I would advise you not to be so quick to dismiss her."

Ignis looked away, a faint flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. "Tch."