Case 353: Wrath of the dragon.
The battle at the heart of demons is still scorching hot.
Amidst the roaring of engines and screams of shells tearing through the air, a tense confrontation, one that might very well determine the fate of this war, takes place.
On one side, Sariel stands colossal, her neck bulging, cracks of molten heat sipping through her heavy scales. Just as she is ready for the fight, Anastasia's magic wholly assimilates with the surroundings, and Christina's long lance is already swirling with dense divinity.
So distance behind them, Sylvia gently sets her scope aside in favor of an iron sight, aiming in the general direction of the enemies.
Alongside the tall second commander, Noxus, there is Raval, the powerful third commander, who can level mountains and split seas with his physical prowess alone. And finally, the elusive first commander, Hermione, adept at spatial magic and illusions.
Each and every one of them is imnsely powerful, brimming with killing intent and a dire craving for blood. Unlike the cowardly nobles or the naive demon king, they are battle-hardened soldiers, not just 'demons' in a grandiose sense.
After decades of chasing that catalyst inside the fallen star, they have even seen a taste of divinity. Imitating the calamity, who endlessly and indiscriminately devours reality and makes it its own, they learn to conjure domains in which the rules are theirs to bend.
Like so, the imdiate area around the trio slowly changes. Mucus-like dark purple drops seep from the earth to the sky, dyeing everything a grim color.
Not losing to them, a tide of pure divinity surges from the other side—an apt combination of Sylvia, Christina, Anastasia, and Sariel's power. As the two collide, the world is quickly overrun with glitter, half dark, half bright. The balance is thinly fragile, aning it is close to normal, yet even the slightest of fluctuations can spell disaster for either side.
''...''
''...''
In an instant, a blazing ray of plasma blasts across, breaking that equilibrium. Dirt is blown violently, clouds pulverized, and even the heavy miasma lingering in the air lts before the heat.
Stretching her palm toward the growing light, Hermione lightly spreads her magic curtain, letting the ray be devoured into her spatial rift. At the sa ti, a similarly sized rift rips open right above, releasing the pouring heat right back to the other side.
''You idiots, stay put and...''
Behind the fan, a fleeting, almost ethereal voice rings. Yet, before the first commander's authority... the other two figures never seem to care. Burning with rage, they leap forward, leaving the speechless Hermione unable to react.
'...So dumb. This is why they can't ever reach her level—even that demon king...'
Doubts aside, it certainly looks as though the three commanders can't ever cooperate as a team. These battleheads would rather pick a target, destroy them thoroughly, then turn around to pick another one—it's in their cruel nature. Hatred for the living. Hatred for the blessed.
They care not for plans nor strategies, only devastation.
And, as soon as Noxus sets his eyes on the dragon with red-golden scales, his withering blood boils. For him, that creature is the very cause of it all—the trigger, the manifestation.
So, following his instinct, Noxus shoots toward the nacing figure, a lengthy lance churning with malice clutched in his hand. Seeing such intent brewing in the opponents' eyes, Sariel slightly takes off to the sky, letting the commander follow her.
''Die!''
Noxus pierces at a speed several tis that of sound, like a javelin tearing through the air, straight at Sariel's head. In a split second, the dragon ducks to the side, barely avoiding the attack. Even then, the natural layer of protective mana her scales emit is nearly torn, proving Noxus's firepower.
''Tch.''
After a few more similar calls, it is evident that with such a large body, Sariel would just be an easy target.
Since this appearance is more suited for mass destruction anyway, the dragoness decisively morphs back to her humanoid form. Close-quarter combat isn't her favorite, nor is she ever good at it, but there's no other choice.
Just in ti, the furious Noxus springs toward her once again, his silhouette blurry, roaring.
As Sariel's cold silver eyes narrow, an imnse amount of divinity slips through her skin, painting a sphere of domain around her figure. Her nails elongate, hardened, and sharpened into long, deadly claws.
This ti, he collides directly with Sariel.
''Kgh...!!''
Sariel, having already seen glimpses of transcendent power well before receiving the seed of divinity, now seems almost invincible. She easily catches the opponent's weapon, tearing through its length while tying the tall figure still with invisible threads.
Crushed under imnse pressure, Noxus's brain belatedly finds so stability. He gazes into her piercing slit eyes, trying desperately to rekindle the star's power resting within him.
''Pathetic. Is that all you've got?''
Sariel herself feels silly for dropping that line. It reeks of clichés, and she might have just planted a flag.
And sure enough, the next mont, Noxus's figure distorts terribly. As though a cot falling through the sky, flares of stained, dark blue energy spurts out of cracks behind his limbs, and he starts to radiate a putrid aura.
Sariel senses her domain being gnawed at.
'...Is this thing burning its core away?'
The more she looks, the more she is repulsed. It resembles none other than those mindless creatures out there, though it is leagues above.
Battling it slowly might be sowhat fun, but she needs to finish this quickly. Unlike her, Christina and Anastasia below are having to fight an uphill battle. They must maintain their abilities so that the convoy can continue advancing safely in the anti, after all.
Lost in her thoughts montarily, Sariel barely hears a sonic boom on her left.
''...''
Her body has moved according to her instincts, blocking the punch from her right. That arm's bones are now shattered to the shoulder, and her right eardrum is ruptured.
Fortunately or not, her opponent this ti won't be able to last long with this kind of reckless output either.
''I'll play with you.''
Instead of backing away, Sariel raises her limp arm, now rapidly regenerating and transforming into sothing wholly monstrous—a dragonic arm. Shreds of golden-red scales erge across her body, gleaming under the skylight.
From then on, it is less a technically competent martial fight than a brute force brawl.
The two fire at one another with their sheer might, each crash ringing deafening cries across the city, deforming the air itself alongside them. Bone fractures, flesh blown, blood vaporized—by any ans, it is a brutal fight.
However, in the end, Sariel erges as the victor.
Her energy reserve is simply much larger than that of Noxus. In addition, being a dragon, her natural body grade far exceeds the commander's. When one of her scales breaks, the opponent's whole limb is vaporized—such is the extrely unfair nature of this brawl.
Clutching Noxus, who is now no more than a tattered shell, by the neck, Sariel sighs,
''I win.''
''...''
It is the mont Sariel's domain devours Noxus whole.
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