The woman swung her scythe once, a smooth motion that swiped through five nearby Defiant members. They didn't know what had happened until their bodies parted in two. Screams ensued, not the kind that Demon heard many times on the dying in their last moments of anguish, but the cry of a child having a nightmare. Tears overflowed as the cries continued. All scratched at their eyes and writhed, becoming more unstable with every passing second. Something was wrong. This reaction was too unnatural for even those at death's door.
'It was terrifying…she doesn't want to recall it, grabbing her hair.' Avril's words rippled from the depths of his memories. 'The mistress…spreads fear.' The last parts of that memory resounded with Avril's anguished cries, similar to the suffering Defiants. Was it her power? Demon eyed the scythe, noting that it had entered the Meld stage, judging from the Ein layered on it. Briefly, their gazes met, and an ocean of blood surged behind her, a hallucination brought on by her overwhelming Ein and intent directed at him.
'Survival is difficult.' He thought. Several more Exalts followed behind her, powerful ones who far surpassed the fodder that threw themselves at his ship, presumably the trump cards. The Primaere Kerak probably guessed at interference and hid his main forces for the climax, the sneaky bastard. Demon mustered more Ein and poured it into the ship, pointless since it had already reached its full speed. The woman was gaining, culling down several more Defiants who all screamed in ear-piercing cries of agony, some dying before the life-threatening injuries could claim them.
Grade Nine Exolsia was too troublesome. Demon recalled when he first saw Gilbert Lockwood after his awakening in Ashen Grove, the mere presence causing him to never think of attacking that outlandish power head-on. He had considered how it might turn out in ambushes and trickery but discarded the ideas, useless against the might of Grade Nine. Now, one hunted him. Closing his eyes, he pondered, sizing up his chances, the great gale flowing on his back.
The Defiants countered, attacking the retinue of elites behind the woman, their own elites finally joining in. Unbothered by their attacks, the woman stuck on her path, not a step slowed or off by the ambush, none targeting her. More sea snails burst from the ocean, their shells having spikes long enough to impale a man, a more powerful breed. All the elites had been thrown into the chaos, spells thrown from all corners that landed on sturdy defenses, no one sacrificing an inch without taking from the enemy.
"Marcus, Kragg, Santen, divide up and prevent as many of the Defiants and Primal Council Exalts from reaching me. Restel, stay under Kragg's shadow and keep him sane." Demon rose and mounted Erden, who grunted, a grave expression on the old beast. He entered the Guise, a burning horn rising opposite the blue antler. No rational plan held any merit against the encroaching foe, leaving him no choice but to relinquish himself to death's door for a chance.
"I will gladly give my life to buy you time. We will keep that woman occupied for as long as we can." Marcus said, clenching his black dagger. Kragg didn't offer any snide remarks, gazing deeply at the woman. Santen clasped his hands together, a frown deepening, dragging his lips down.
"No. Ignore her. Your deaths won't slow her down at all. As you leave, throw some ranged attacks at her and run past, isolate her to me." Demon figured that with her superior realm and grade, she wouldn't break a sweat against them. "Go now."
"But–" Marcus clenched his teeth.
"I said go!" Demon raised his voice, and they complied, leaping off the ship and splitting off in different directions. Santen raised his hand and chopped down, his powerful attack splitting the ocean. Marcus punched, hurtling a barrage of scales, each thick as armor and sharp as swords. Kragg swiped his claws, lightning slashing across in claw marks. Their trifecta of attacks clashed against her. The ocean erupted and engulfed her in its high waves that rose from Santen's slicing motion, electrified by the lightning claws and scattered by the scales. She stepped out from the mists that formed from the devastation, platinum shards falling from her left cheek. Not a single scratch ruined her perfect skin.
She briefly turned her attention to them, lending her gaze to each one, her emotion still indiscernible on that cold face. Running away, Demon had already kicked the airship at her while they attacked, the core unstable from his activation of the self-destruct command. The core screeched inside the airship, light forcing its way through the gaps between the wooden boards. It exploded with the maddened chorus of thunderous booms, an inferno rising to the sky and burning into the ocean, steam wafting from the surface.
Erden flew at full speed, spreading flames to obscure the view from behind. Standing and looking behind, Demon took a defensive posture. It was certain that these attacks were naught but a mere hindrance to her, like throwing eggs on a rock. His ears perked up, picking up a faint whistle. A thin platinum needle, long as a spear but still thin, glinted as it shot from the steam. Quickly, he turned his head, his speed not enough to do anything else. The needle broke past the side of his helmet, leaving only a small hole as proof it had passed him. His right ear went numb from the sound it left behind as cracks spread from the hole, clattering in a drizzle of shards, exposing a part of his face.
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Once again, she emerged, unharmed from even the airship's explosion. Her shoes emitted a platinum gleam, and she turned into a flickering blur, chasing with incredible speed. She snapped her fingers, and several more platinum needles shot ahead, straight and forward. Her actions went faster than his Prinstyct could predict. Twisting his body and repositioning his sword, Demon encased himself in platinum armor and a barrier of scarlet flame, condensed to crystal form.
It was the last desperate plan he could think of. The needles pierced past the scarlet flame and embedded themselves in his platinum armor, one screeching as it drilled against his white sword until veering off course to hit him elsewhere. He hoped his sword could at least block one, but all it did was barely change the course. Well, luckily, he had also considered that. Undoing his platinum armor, Demon pulled out each needle. They turned to dust as her Ein faded from the spell, spilling down the gaps between his fingers.
'That's your plan?!' Erden shouted inwardly.
'I don't feel pain. If I can keep her from harming any vital parts, I can endure. Focus on flying away, you damned beast.' Demon slashed multiple times, concentrating the Shattering Wave into his fiery blade. Countless scarlet blades and platinum spears filled the air between him and her. He laid down magnetic orbs that attracted her scythe to deter her further. But all seemed futile. She mowed down the barrage with several wide swings and stomped on the orbs, breaking them apart.
'Ignyres. Can you pull it off?' Demon asked as the woman finally reached a dozen feet away.
'I need more time! Buy me more time!' In the inner world, Ignyres swayed his hands slowly over a beating flame, its pulsing growing stronger.
Ignyres needed time, but Demon had none to give. The woman was before him, her black hair fluttering to the side. She watched him with a cold gaze, which he usually gave others. Without warning, she swung her scythe, his sword somehow able to catch it. The tip, however, stabbed into his shoulder, owing to its outrageous range. Clenching his muscles, he prevented the sharp blade from driving deeper into his flesh, his mind counting down the time needed for Ignyres to be ready. Strangely, she halted and tilted her head as confused people would, but her expression remained without a flicker or twitch of emotion.
"I am Lelith Lilisa. Strange." Her voice was clear yet sounded off as if he was speaking to a normal golem. A human's voice should contain a hint of the heart, rising and falling in tone and speed depending on the person's state of mind. She had none, no disdain, no excitement, no vitality, nothing. Yes, she spoke words, but they felt strangely alien. Lelith stared into his eyes and said, "I don't see your fear nor feel your nightmares. Nothing is showing to me. Are you even alive?"
"I could say the same about you." A rare chance arrived at her curiosity at his lack of fear. Her powers became clearer and confirmed his suspicion that it would not affect him. "Are your orders to kill me or take me?" He signaled to Marcus and the others by blinking once, and they carried on to battle other foes, leaving him be.
"Killing was preferable. Taking was if possible. But now, I think I will take you." Lelith pulled her scythe, drawing him closer, bringing his face closer to hers. "I wonder what I should do to place some fear into you." She glanced at her scythe cutting into his shoulder. "Pain doesn't seem to work. My Meld wouldn't be of much use. How interesting. How can I break you? I will slowly find out over time."
'Ready?' Demon asked.
'A few more!' Ignyres shouted.
He slashed his sword, throwing most of his Eirin into it in a devastating Omnireus concentrated by the Line. Seeing her block the blade with a palm, Demon found it absurd that the strength of a Grade Nine Exolsia was this immense, the gap quite hard for him to comprehend. She stood a realm above him, but he knew his loss was certain even if he was a Greater Marshal Exalt.
"If you struggle, that means there's still a chance for you to feel fear. I wonder what drives you to be so impertinent so I can take it and see your anguish." Lelith reached out her hand, looking dark as the two suns didn't shine toward it. She stopped and turned her head, swiping her hand to block a flurry of incoming arrows of brilliant light.
Demon turned to the untimely savior and saw it was Avila, anger reddening that familiar face, her teeth gnashing in clear sounds of grinding. However, it wasn't alright, not for him. Oscar's soul might break further upon seeing Avril's sister die. He could only wait for Lelith to keep stalling herself. Catching a breather, he witnessed the two women stare at each other.
"Slave?" Lelith tilted her head again. "When did you dye your hair? I didn't allow that."
"I am Avila Venelair, you wench! Mark my words: one day, I will kill you!" Avila nocked her arrow, ready to fire.
"Avila? Avila?" Lelith tapped her chin, deep in thought. "Right. That's not the name. Ah. It was Avril. I remember now. Are you related? If you know where she is, tell her to come back. Her absence is quite rude. I haven't finished her yet. She was so lively when she first came to me." For the first time, perhaps the most unsettling of a smile curled from her lips. Very slight, yet any crack in this woman's expression became more pronounced. "You know, when I get a slave, the first thing I do is get rid of their name. She was fun. Even after many years, she stubbornly remembered her first name. Slave is a perfectly fine name. Ah, I miss the fear she showed me, the glimpses of her village burning and loneliness from separating from her family. Ah, that's where I saw you."
"You…." Avila cried, tears flowing down her cheeks. She fired several more arrows, all easily broken by a casual wave of Lelith's hand.
"If I catch you too, that's a set of sisters. I can only imagine the fear as I place you in the same cell. But–" Lelith retracted her gaze and focused on Demon. "I have a job here first."
"You're too slow." Demon opened his hand, holding a bright flame in his palm. "I'll be the one to kill you."