Sivian turned around and began spewing venom all over the entranceway to the throne room. Any who were on their way rushing back had to either leave themselves vulnerable as they jumped over the toxic pool, or let their soles corrode and stomp through the ss.
Then, Sivian, not yet plucking the trident from its holster on her back, picked up and wielded a bow of her own, aiming at the empty entrance.
Edith and Mias both faced the horde of thirty Ancient Wartorts and their leader.
While the two possessed the capabilities to slay them all and then the Master, it was most definitely quicker to take out the Master.
Sothing Mias could probably do entirely on his own, but there was always the chance the enemy could counter his ability — sothing neither Vale nor Mias wanted to risk.
So, they took the much more surefire kill thod of a full-powered [Draw Back] shot.
To that end...
One minute.
That’s all the ti Diana needed to charge her shot enough that it didn’t matter what flimsy shield the Master Wartort had at its disposal — the arrow would kill it.
"Guuuuraak!"
After another shriek, the Wartorts began charging with stone clubs raised.
If any were Champions, Mias couldn’t tell by appearance alone.
Not that any Nascent Champion would be strong enough to resist the Reaper.
Letting his lower half dissolve into an ashy plu, he held out his hand and began to twirl the ashen scythe.
Then...
Mias released the scythe; however, just like one of Salo’s quills, the scythe stayed floating in the air, still twirling in front of Mias’s open palm.
Before, he’d not only had too little Aether to do this feat, but also the focus required for it was extraordinary.
[Severance] truly was the perfect Trait for Mias.
With a sowhat manic smile plastered across his face, the Reaper swiped his hand forward, sending the spinning weapon into the gut of a green piggy at an astonishing speed.
A mont later, the scythe zipped back into the Reaper’s hand.
The Wartort coughed and looked down, wondering what happened.
"Guuuuraak..."
Curiously, it put its hand over a thin line of green blood that had begun falling from its stomach. A thin line which burst in a fountain of blood and entrails, forcing the top half to slide and fall onto the dungeon ground, slowly be consud by it.
Mias felt the Aether from the kill attempt to join and circulate with his own, before being ousted by his reserves for its lesser quality.
The Ancient Wartorts staggered upon watching their comrade be bisected.
And those who dared take a step past the corpse were quickly t with the sa treatnt — a revolving, floating scythe rending them in half.
Glancing over...
***
Edith faced the right half of the horde — the right half due to missing her left eye.
Unlike Mias, she wasn’t overtly stronger than her foes; however, she made up for that with her lithe aptitude and [Blood Fiend].
[Iron Plea] in hand, she didn’t wait for the green Wartorts to co to her.
Instead, she jumped in the midst of them, letting them surround her.
The tiny horde all turned and began slamming down their cudgels, trying to flatten her.
Planting the butt of the halberd on the ground, she pushed down on it and used it as leverage to vault into the air and leave her weapon behind.
As the Wartorts’ attacks cleaved through open air, hitting the masterless weapon, she landed upon one of their shoulders.
Wasting no ti, Edith drew her fingers together like a serpent’s head. Then, she drove her hand into the Wartort’s eye, and deeper. Deep enough until her hand pierced the mush of its brain.
The green bastard didn’t even screech as it fell.
No death rattle as its body didn’t even get the proper ti to shut down.
Just dead.
Riding the dead beast to the ground, Edith leisurely walked off its corpse and back onto the stone.
Horrified, the Ancient Wartorts took a half-step away.
Not daring to attack even if she didn’t have her weapon.
However, one screech from the Dungeon Master was all it took to reinstate their approach.
"Guuuuraak!"
The bastards sward her, swinging down again.
Edith sneered as she rolled forward, dodging the attacks.
As she ca out of the roll, her hand gripped the shaft of the halberd and she threw the pointed end into the kneecap of the nearest Wartort.
As the beast growled in pain and lost its footing, Edith jumped in the air, kicked off its stomach, then rcilessly jamd her fingers into its throat.
The Wartort weakly tried to pluck Edith off, but it was too late.
Edith spread her hand wide, gripped the trachea of the Wartort, and ripped it out, sending a gurgle of green blood spewing forth, covering her form from head to toe.
As its body fell to the ground, Edith kicked off its stomach and backflipped over a stone cudgel that slamd into the dead Wartort’s neck.
Edith landed on the Wartort’s shoulders, standing, looking down on it.
The warthog-like monster looked up at Edith with pleading eyes, then, knowing its hands would never be able to save itself in ti, opened its mouth to try and bite her leg.
A terrible mistake.
The mont its slimy maw opened wide enough, Edith lifted her left leg and stomped down into the open crevice, sending her foot down its throat.
Then she lifted her right leg, letting the left sink further. As it did, she fell close enough to use her hand to rip off the lower jaw before it could chomp down.
Right before another Wartort could capitalize on the situation, Edith plucked her leg from the beast’s maw, and landed back on the ground, next to her halberd.
Coughing up copious amounts of green blood, the Wartort looked up just in ti to watch as its own ally bashed its skull in, putting it out of its misery.
Edith bent down to pick up her halberd, but none of the others dared approach her.
Yet, neither did she care to approach them.
Her gaze drifted under an Ancient Wartort’s legs, watching as Diana’s fingers twitched, releasing a quiet, devastating arrow that sailed off past the edge of light into the darkness — toward the hiding Master.
A mont later, the eyes of the remaining Wartorts grew hollow as they swayed and fell.
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