Soundlessly, and without any flourish or extravagance, it t the Cruor Mortis’s raging, bloodlust-filled might... and the resulting impact was...
Nothing.
There was no impact whatsoever.
Despite the bloodlust thick enough that it could be tasted as a tallic tang in the air, despite the heavy aura and certainty of death the Cruor Mortis scread like a promise, despite the ego of this terrifying sword that had reaped so many lives, it was better not to count... all that happened when it t Althea’s casual strike with that green glowing sword was the most simple, most comfortable, total nullification of everything it raged with.
Althea’s sword devoured every bit of force, might, and bloodlust the Cruor Mortis carried. It sliced right through the corporeal splash the weathered sword bore down with, while at the sa ti, swallowing everything up.
There was no clang of steel and no explosion of sparks. Instead, the red aura of the Cruor Mortis simply folded inward. It looked as though the green light was hungry, reaching out to snag the crimson energy and dragging it into the center of the blade.
It was like watching an erasure in real life.
The space where the two blades t beca a vacuum of energy. The ground beneath Althea’s feet didn’t even crack from the pressure because the pressure no longer existed. The glowing green sword had claid it all. It devoured the killing intent of the thousand-year-old relic and turned it into nothing more than a faint breeze that ruffled Althea’s hair.
The sight rooted Elias on his sword in the sky, his eyes frozen in a picture of incredulous disbelief and even a hint of fear. Odette, who was miles away now, watched with her mouth hung open in an "O" shape, all semblance of her "deanor as a Fragnt Bearer" was nowhere to be found.
She knew just how terrifying and near-absolute the Cruor Mortis was. The sword was one of the most powerful artifact soul masses in existence. This was a sword nurtured by one of the earliest founding fathers of what was now the Arcanist world. An Archon from a ti when the powers of the world were still not established. The ninth Xiphios of what was now the chanus empire...
Of course, to Preceptors who knew the true secrets of the world, soul masses weren’t their main source of power, but rather, Transcendent Fragnts.
But that didn’t lessen the fact that this soul mass was once the sword of an Archon whose path was pure Artifact Nurturing. To be given the chance to wield such a soul mass in the first place, and even after being excommunicated, showed just how much Elias was once weighted in the Ossuary.
This was a mighty sword. Just watching it descend alone, Odette knew that if she were on the receiving end, while she would be able to defend such a strike, it would cost her terribly. She was not coming away without heavy damage.
Yet, here was Althea taking such a terrifying strike without as much as the slightest effort. In fact, she wasn’t just taking the strike; she was eating it up wholly. Devouring it in its entirety.
Within seconds, the tumultuous waves, raging chaos, and heavy bloodlust in the air disappeared. All that was left was the weathered, rusted and chipped body of the Cruor Mortis. Its bare mass continued downwards on its path to et the glowing green sword, all energy spent, no longer crying out, as if following through on a suicide charge it was unwilling to concede because of its ego.
Althea showed no rcy. Her sword sliced clean through the soul mass the sa way it had its aura, shattering it cleanly into two, destroying its soul essence at its very core.
The Cruor Mortis crumbled imdiately, the two shattered halves rapidly turning into flecks of dust as it was purged in its entirety.
Miles above, Elias grimaced and gripped his chest. He squeezed hard, his single hand trembling as if trying to contain a sudden, soul-deep agony. Just like the Echo Strider Owl had been purged from Althea’s soul, the Cruor Mortis was being purged from his, the connection severing as it faded away, never to exist in the world again, the millennia-old sword finally resting after many years of drawing blood.
But unlike Althea, who had a much easier ti containing the sever, Elias was many tis worse off.
His was a soul mass many tis more powerful than the Echo Strider, so the backlash of such a sudden purge was excruciating. It felt as though a limb had been torn from his soul without any warning.
Down below, on the battlefield, a bout of silence reigned as what remained of the Cruor Mortis faded out of existence.
Althea held the glowing green sword in place, closing her eyes in acknowledgnt of the Cruor Mortis, which was once a great sword in its own right. Then she opened them so seconds later and sighed, staring down at the sword in her hand with a rueful smile.
"He was right after all... an ordered flaw..." she muttered, then looked up at the sky, locking eyes with Elias, who burned with spite.
Stoically, she raised her sword, ready to strike down yet again.
Imdiately, the spite in Elias’s eyes vanished entirely, replaced by alarm and shock, as if he could not believe Althea was about to make another strike in quick succession. He was very clear that while Althea’s strike had seed effortless, there was no way it really was.
Annihilating the Cruor Mortis so thoroughly was no child’s play. That was a peak calamity grade soul mass, purged entirely within seconds.
By all Ossuarist logic he knew, it was not possible for Althea to attack again, especially right after. In fact, that single strike was enough to drain her of soul strength to the point where her manifestation state should have collapsed imdiately.
Yet, nothing of the sort was happening. Instead, Althea was gearing for another strike?
"She’s bluffing!" Elias snarled through gritted his teeth, choosing to stick by what he knew. He readied himself, nonetheless, but it was simply perfunctory. He didn’t believe for a second that she would be able to conjure a strike of such magnitude again. It was likely the original fragnt bearer, their manifested consciousness surely had much more experience than Althea. They would know they had run out of ti, and Althea would be left powerless against two Preceptor-level threats... He convinced himself that this was a last-ditch effort to scare him away.
And after so seconds of nothing happening, it seed he was actually right. Althea — or rather, the original fragnt bearer manifesting themself through her — stood still, holding the sword in the air for several seconds as if "priming" themself for the attack.
Elias scoffed victoriously, a smile touching his lips as his conjecture was proven right. Althea was finished.
He opened his mouth, about to make a goading statent, but then he saw the edges of Althea’s lips tilt upwards...
And imdiately, the words caught in his throat.
That simple smile shattered the confidence he had, and all alarm bells in his mind blared loudly.
What if I’m wrong...?
The thought must have crossed his mind in that instant, because doubt was evidently written on his face.
Within seconds, a burst of energy radiated from Althea, making Elias’s expression spoil entirely.
"How is this possible?!!" He roared as her soul essence burned brightly, not at all diminished in any form, as if she had not just cast a draining strike seconds ago.
Her reserves were brimming, untouched.
Her smirk rapidly morphed into sothing fierce, her eyes set on Elias in the sky.
With a calm voice, she declared:
"Ready yourself. I will now spam this attack consecutively."
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