UE Rewrite: B2 — 33. Fighting Bloodlust (Patreon)

PoV:

1. Elinor (Our Evolved Undead Spooder Warlord!)

2.  Drake (Our cool, 17-year-old noble from the High House of Tarnash with an Ice affinity!)

3. Elinor

Undying Empire Index

Previous Chapter

Inline Edits

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With every pluck of an instrument or dulled roar from the flashing lightning that bled past the dome of water above, Elinor’s heart beat faster.  Vision dark, she soaked in the raw fire of what it was like to be a thélméthra—the humor that this was just a drone entirely dispensable to the spider species was not lost on her.

Combining the thélméthra’s natural abilities with her own Feats as a Lich Empress put heat in her veins that she hadn’t felt since her time in cheer and gymnastics.  It created a magnum opus within her mind, the howling wind of the Tempests grazing past each silken thread she expanded, giving her further insight into the stage she performed on.

The hushed discussions that passed through the four Houses as they coordinated brought a small smile to her, with the Grandmasters sending their advice to the recruit candidates.  It was nearing the finale, but there were bound to be some wrenches thrown at her from the other Grandmasters who wanted to test her and push back against her push for change in the kingdom.

Outside of a few minor outliers, everything was progressing precisely as Tiffany had said it would; the Warlord Evolution had given her the means to propel the Witch Queen’s plot to heights they hadn’t dreamed of accomplishing.  Yet, there was one deadly concern beginning to work through her hot veins: [Warlord’s Bloodlust: 60%]

If this continues… I might actually kill someone, which would be disastrous.  How can something taste so tempting?

Her mouth salivated; the sweat and determination of hundreds of victims clashing against her webs was only a finger’s twitch away.  The swirl of fear that carried on the wind told her to push forward and crush those who wanted to challenge her.

Control…  The fight will come soon enough.  Patience is rewarded to the spider who waits for her meal.

She licked her lips, stomach squirming and muscles begging to be utilized, yet she kept her instincts bound under an iron grip.  Every one of her Stats was boosted by a tiny margin with every second that passed: Force, Defense, Dexterity, Energy, and Tenacity surging with her thirst for anticipated combat.

By sheer force of will, Elinor maintained her stationary position inside her nest, letting the teens organize a counter-offensive.  Lilya adapted to their plan, and the other Grandmasters gave their instructions on how to fight her; it would take time, though.  Flames and ice battered against her thick pillar-like webbing, damaging sections that were then only filled in again by the thélméthra liquid silk running through the structure’s nerve system.

Only a little longer.  My silk gland is slowly regenerating…  It sucks reforming my body doesn’t restore it.

[Silk Reserves: 0.5%]

[Warlord’s Bloodlust: 58%]

Opening her eyes, she slowed her breathing, the hums of the wind against her thread giving her a clear picture of the outside world.  Every heartbeat was a tug on her consciousness, driven by thélméthra instinct and her Warlord Evolution Passive working in tandem to push her into combat.

The Tempest and Magic Knights scrambled to get into position to defend the Alchemists and Conjurors, only just now receiving instruction from Grandmaster Vesta as the Tempest projected orders through wind manipulation.

Their words tickled her ears like honey on her tongue, and a slight twist came to tinted green lips as Grandmaster Irkai told his Conjurors to follow his diagram to a T.  Soon, very soon, she would have something she could sink her claws into.

[Warlord’s Bloodlust: 61%]

Lilya, her Monarch Magi-Chemist, invoked the next layer of their plan, receiving live updates from Tiffany.  The radiant woman took a stand, drawing a raven’s notice, and projected her message on the hologram above; the music’s dramatic hum only increased in the background.

“Citizens of Kaspir, as the Raven Empress has shown you, there are threats which require your military to be capable of defending against… or they will find you in your homes.  You are witnessing the desperate attempts to defy the impossible challenge she has sent these candidates…  Not everyone can rise to the occasion.  Some have run away, noble and peasant alike.  Yet, many have stayed and answered the challenge.  What do you see?”

The former queen stood tall, her golden outfit gleaming in the colorful rays cast down from the water dome; it befitted a desert trade princess.  Her words, the swaying music, and the tense atmosphere pressed in on the throng; thunder rolled through the stadium, making a quake run through a hundred thousand souls looking down on the mayhem.

Dozens of candidates from the Tempests, Alchemists, and Magic Knights fled toward the exits; Elinor’s chest shook with mirth at their attempts to retreat, and her voice projected through the gems around the ravens’ throats, the image above hazing to return to her leering stare upon the cowards that had turned their backs to her.

“Do you believe there is mercy for those who seek to run or surrender themselves?  If someone attempts to show their fangs and then withdraws them… then all respect is lost; if you will not defend your own life when confronted, then how can you defend those who are weaker than you?”

Her grin and cold words brought a sweeping chill through the rest of the candidates and stadium as a twitch of her fingers sent impulses through her nexus of web; thread-like wire erupted from the pillars running along the framework of the coliseum, striking like vipers to coil around the screaming and teary-eyed teens, dragging them into the network to be pulled inside her fluid silk network to be transported into the nest.

“Disappointing.”

[Warlord’s Bloodlust: 70%]

A curse came from one of the highborn Magic Knight candidates who had taken command as he shot toward one of the Alchemists who tried to escape, cutting the thread with light blue energy from his sword.

“Dammit, Talen, why’d you have to snatch glory and get yourself caught?!  Who else has the experience to handle—shit!  Watch your right, kid!  Yuna, grab some people and defend the Conjuration group; the Tempests are already ahead of us!  Who else knows how to use magic?”

Castria’s older sister was promptly beside another teenage Magic Knight candidate, defending against her onslaught of thread.  “What can I do?  I’m not great with a sword, but I’m a fast learner!  Where do you want me?  Hey, form a group—watch out from above!”

“Ugh!”  The boy made a few projected slashes of disruptive force that battered her string away, impressing Elinor a tad as the others organized into smaller packs around those who seemed to know what they were doing.  “Fine!  You guys get the Alchemists and bring them to the Conjuration area; form a line and keep them defend—”

The Grandmasters’ messages, written on paper, arrived on a sharp gust of wind, causing Elira to take her small unit to guard the brown-haired, self-appointed leader.  It was then that Lylia’s projection replaced Elinor’s, her bone-chilling call-to-arms sounding throughout the stadium.

“If Kaspir is going to project power throughout the continent and regain the respect of other nations, then we need to show our courage.  If you have a desire to show your love for this kingdom—for what we can make it—then join the candidates.  The House of Raven will not limit its recruitment to only those seeking support from the established college trades.  All talent is needed to uplift Kaspir into a new golden age!”

[Silk Reserves: 0.7%]

[Warlord’s Bloodlust: 75%]

[Bloodlust Aura: Unlocked]

[Bloodlust Aura: Activated]

An oppressive weight expelled from Elinor as she chuckled, replacing her Monarch of Alchemy on the display as she slowly rose to her feet to look down on the citizens from her grand illusion; her aura shot out, projected from the seed she’d swallowed, oozing out of each spelled raven.  Momentarily ceasing her assault, she flashed her teeth, making several groups freeze in their actions.

“I know at least one person who will answer that call… Captain Flera.  Let this mark the beginning of Kaspir’s march into a position of strength.  Not only of Tempest but of all branches of magic and science… because it cannot survive what I know is to come without adapting.  Show me you deserve to live because living is a right earned and not given.”

The raven fluttered off its perch to follow her as the nest rippled to the electrical pulses she sent through its network, moving those she’d captured while she spoke.  “Young future Magic Knights, Paladins, and whatever else might come from this growing college curriculum, I will offer this challenge…”

Her silk split open as she came to the edge of the arena, lifting her arms overhead with a wicked snicker to display the bound trio she’d beaten just before this stage.  “Behold your Great House candidates.  I have taken quite good care of them,” she taunted.

Elinor’s sides hurt with silent laughter at the gulps that slid down thousands of throats when the hologram above zoomed in on the bright red faces of the gagged and wrapped seventeen-year-old boy and girls.

Drake, having been rendered shirtless in their fight, was sandwiched by the two red-faced noble girls; Anala, having mostly incinerated her own gown during the conflict, was tied snuggly against the uncomfortable ice-user’s chest, with Aura bound against his back, their arms woven around each other to keep them from using any pesky elemental attacks to escape.

She could practically feel the hot steam puffing out of the redhead’s lips against the fidgeting teenage boy’s collarbone, cheeks scarlet.  Aura’s face was held stationary near the base of Drake’s neck, wiggling to try to get free and only further tightening her chest against his sweating back.  Their radiating body heat was suffocating the light-headed noble boy as their thighs rubbed against one another, trying to find any sort of leverage to escape.

“Oh, that’s cruel!”  Tiffany cackled.  “I can only imagine how hard Drake is trying to control the blood from leaving his head!  I doubt he even wants to escape.”

She felt Castria almost slip in her concentration and lose control of the colossal amount of channeled mana she was gathering, forcing Princess Heather and Lord Julian to catch her fumble.  “Empress, that’s—I would die if you did that to me!  And in front of the whole kingdom!”

Lilya’s mouth drew in, but Elinor could sense a spark of entertained curiosity that surprised her.  “It is a tad mean, Empress, and could cause friction from the Great Houses.”

[Warlord’s Bloodlust: 70%]

[Bloodlust Aura: Deactivated]

On the contrary, Elinor mused, looking up at the three as the shocking display swept through the stadium.  Anala is the least resistant, and her family is quite enthralled by the vision; her mother is noting how little her little spitfire is struggling.  She shouldn’t be afraid to burn the Tarnash boy, yet she has yet to try to escape.  Maybe she’s too drained?

“Doubtful!”  Tiffany snorted as Aura’s wind tried to dislodge them to no avail in her frantic state to break free.  Elinor bent one of her fingers, forcing the green-haired girl’s hands slightly lower to Drake’s middle abs, her muffled screams of protest escalating.  “Aura should have held back less in order to embarrass her rival, so she gets to join in the fun!”

“Empress!”

Her father’s somewhat hesitant voice entered the conversation.  “Queen Alivau actually looks impressed by ‘the trophy,’ as she sees it.”

Elinor’s entertained eyes narrowed as she felt the redhead’s fingers trace words across Drake’s exposed back.  Sure, the heat radiating from her skin and occasional twitches from certain parts of her body told quite the story, but the boy had daringly come to her rescue a few times during their brief fight against her.

Perhaps even more interesting was that the hot head was more intelligent than others gave her credit for, having found a way to silently communicate with the ice boy.  Unfortunately, Aura’s squirming belly and thrashing were messing up her message.  She could also disrupt her opponents and wait for her challengers at the same time; dozens of City Guards and citizens were attempting to get into the arena grounds to join the fight in any way they could help.

Why don’t I paint a picture for you since you don’t have a clear view?  she offered, lifting the trio higher into the air and curling her web around them into a cage.  Because Anala feels rather safe wrapped in Lord Drake’s arms?

“Huh?”  A shiver came from her Queen of Storms, emotional state fluctuating a little at the topic since she wasn’t born in a modern, licentious society that promoted such topics; the men and women of this world were quite innocent, despite their ‘slutty’ apparel for attention.  “What are you talking about?”

Imagine it, Elinor whispered, maneuvering the thread to shift the noble boy and girls’ position ever so slightly to cause even more discomfort to break their concentration.

What is it like for Drake to have two beautiful and rather stubborn women attached to him at the hip, sliding against his exposed skin?  Hot.  Smooth.  The quiver of their muscles contracting together.

She spun the cage she’d crafted for them in a slow circle as the Magic Knights gathered with City Guards and Tempests to support them, waiting for her to present her challenge while staring at the highborn teens.

The intoxicating stimulation of Anala’s sweat-slicked hair, held against Drake’s nose as he samples the scent of amber—that hint of pine and leather, with a heavier, balsamic, and slightly smoky aroma from her daring assault, burning her own clothes and skin…

“Empress, you’re distracting me!”

Hmm.  Am I?  she teased, sensing Lilya’s thickening throat through her link to the Nexus as Castria’s muscles began to tense up from the picture she was crafting in the girl’s mind; these were new things to these women, both born in this medieval and magical world.

What part?  Can’t you see her hands tracing his back?  How it quivers at the touch of her fingernails?  What must Anala feel pressing against her breast, hmm?  Drake must be enjoying himself, as well; do you see the cool touch of his hand to numb her burns and ease her pain?  What about that shiver that runs down his spine as Aura samples Drake’s neck from behind, her fingers tracing his hard abs, the pressure of their joined bodies writhing—

“Empress, stop!”  Castria begged, body temperature skyrocketing as her mind continued down the fantasy Elinor was crafting, making Tiffany almost lose control over her ritual while doubling over.  “Why are you just letting your words hang so people keep looking at them?!  This is cheating and unfair!”

Oh?  the Witch Queen cooed.  I do think you are being a tease, Empress, despite how much I enjoy this gift you’ve given Drake.  I’m sure nothing will spark between our hot and cool teens from this fateful encounter with the Raven Empress.

“Tiffany, you are the worst!”  Castria cried, now probably seeing herself in that line since she’d been brought back from the dead naked in front of the boy she had a crush on.  “Can you just punch someone now, Empress?  Please!”

“Agreed, Queen Castria,” Lilya sighed.  “As much as I am intrigued by this line of conversation, you are causing doubt to set in with the other Tempests in her ability to channel the required mana to incinerate you, which is contrary to your plan.”

“Thank you!”  Castria huffed through the Nexus, returning to her task as everyone grew antsy in the stands; a few jumped as a new attack came.  “Really?!”

Elinor sent a pulse of electricity through the network to project two somewhat thick silken ropes to snatch her Tempest out of the air, only for a few Tempest to throw them off course; she still managed to snag one of the noble girls that fumbled her defensive wind, unable even to pipe out a scream as she was pulled into the sticky interior.

“Glacia isn’t good at Wind Magic…  She was nice.”

Now she’s dead, Elinor chuckled, waiting for the comeback.

“Captured!  She can be saved,” the girl snapped.

A few bolts flew at her from the City Guards gathering to support the candidates; she saw Lieutenant Cole leading the crossbowmen unit.  She hardly had to move to evade the attack, the citizens now breathing heavily as they felt the tension rising.  Her head tilted to the side as the projectiles didn’t even penetrate her web network; [Strategic Mind] was probably the reason she’d rattled her Queen of Storms.  How her new Feats interacted was so interesting.

[Warlord: Soldier’s Spirit]

[Time Remaining: 34:34]

What must be going through Drake’s mind with two girls sandwiching him?  Dad always said to watch out for what went through guys’ minds.  Pausing, she pondered, observing the three struggling teens.  I think he underestimates what goes on in a girl’s head.

* — * — *

Drake tried to cool his flaming mind because it was impossible to stop the inferno from pulsing out of his body; he’d never felt so hot before, and the humid puffs of the two girls against his bare skin sent his thoughts into a haze.

Calm down…  The Empress did this on purpose.  Control yourself—where are they touching?!

His finger sank into Anala’s lower back, feeling the slope of her spine as the thin strip keeping her breasts covered slid away to press against his abdomen; she was too short, and blood was rushing into all the wrong places as she hugged his lower half.

A low moan rumbled in her throat as her chest fluttered against his lower abdomen, Aura’s fingernails digging into his upper abs and sparking a slight pulse of pain.  The strong scent from her bunched red hair was locked against his face, forcing him to smell something foreign that sent electricity through his entire body.

Anala was shockingly still, doing her best not to move, yet her body temperature was off the charts, and Aura’s hiked-up dress caused her bare thighs to rub against his as she wiggled and squirmed against his back.  The soft pressure from her breasts rose and fell against his shoulder blades, his tensing muscles causing her to push harder and wrap her legs around his as her lower half ground against his left butt cheek.

Stop!  he tried to shout, but it only came out in muffled growls from the gags they wore.  I can’t think with you two wrapped around me!  Calm down—no… what is it pressing against?  Please don’t say it’s Anala’s…

His mind snapped away from the thought as Anala’s fingernail traced an unmistakable letter across his back, making him ease up; it was hard to identify with Aura’s hot skin and ripping nails as she rubbed her sweaty body against his back, butt, and legs, making them swing with her struggling bursts of wind, but his panic eased when she spelled out the phrase.

“Stop moving.  It hurts a little…  You’re jabbing my left breast.  My back is burned.”

Feeling utterly at fault for getting her into this sort of position, Drake took a deep, cooling breath and let it out to pass down her body, causing the girl to tense up a little; something hard yet soft was pushing against his abs just below Aura’s ravaging hands.  He found he had just enough finger room to deliver his own message as they stilled.

Sorry for all of this.  I’m going to try to move my hands.  I know you’re burned in some places.  Guide me to them so I can numb it.  Again, I’m sorry.

“No, it’s okay.  I know this is uncomfortable for you, too…  Is it uncomfortable?”  she asked, fingers hesitating a minute before asking the question.  “Oh!  Right there!”  she cried, fingernails sinking into his skin.  “Watch where you’re poking me, too!”

He gulped, suddenly realizing what the soft-hard things were against his abs.  Sorry!  Sorry!  Sending the cooling frost to numb her nerves, he sighed, which was a mistake because the chemicals that went from her sweaty hair went straight to his brain, depriving it of blood to be welcomed in by other areas.  I’m trying, but it’s hard!  You’re so soft and hot that it’s burning me up inside.

“Sorry…”  she returned, seemingly fighting Aura’s breasts as they slid down a bit, and now he was being poked in the back, as well, with the green-haired girl’s hot breaths against his ear; hopefully, she wouldn’t bite it if her mouth or nose was that close.  “I can’t burn our way out.  You need to freeze us out.  Aura is useless.  I’m not that uncomfortable now.  Just… be gentle.”

The words were like lightning through his spine, making him have to recite lessons from his older brother and father in his head to try and curb the excitement in his nether regions.  The resurging memory of the time Anala had kicked him in the balls when they were nine wasn’t helping the matter either.

Yeah…  just endure it for a little while.  Do you know how to synchronize with me?  It will help with your resistance if you resonate your mana and affinity with me.

“I’ve only done it with my mom… but I’ll try.  And… thank you for saving me.”

Now focused on saving the redhead and regaining his composure, Drake focused on opening himself up for Anala to try to resonate with him.  It was surprisingly easy for her to find his rhythm; he hadn’t synced this fast with anyone before except his mother.

You’re a natural…  Your mana is so warm and welcoming, he complimented, blocking out whatever The Empress was doing with the Magic Knights and City Guards.  Hang in there.

Her chest fluttered against him, but she relaxed instead of tensed.  “Thank you, Drake.  I’m… sorry for that time I kicked you in the nuts.  You kind of intimidated me, and I lashed out.”

What?!  You intimidated me, he laughed, causing Aura to bump heads with him, which he ignored.  You were always so pretty and outgoing… never afraid to speak your mind.

“Oh…”  She paused for a moment, fingers rubbing slightly against his back in a period or possibly looking for something to say, and her face seemed to heat up a bit against his collarbone.  “Well, I always did like how much of a gentleman you were, despite what I used to say.  My siblings would just always tease me about it.”

Thoroughly confused by that line of thought or what that had to do with anything, he let the topic die; for some reason, their synchronization redoubled.

We’re getting close.  How are you feeling?

“Better.  Just… don’t look when we do get free.”

Haha.  I can’t promise anything about how we might fall.  He grunted and winced as she pinched him.  I’ll do my best, though!

“Good.”

Her arms softened, and her breathing became more controlled.  Perhaps she wasn’t such a foul-mouthed fire-starter after all.  His mind began to wander as it became easier to control the united ice magic they linked; it was far weaker than what he typically used due to her inexperience, but it would protect her.  Aura, on the other hand, was a shivering mess behind him.

Hmm.  Without a doubt, Anala is a lot prettier than Aura, in personality and physical beauty…  What am I thinking?!  Get your head straight!  Anala needs me to focus.  Huh.  Maybe I do like her.

* — * — *

“Hehehe.”  Elinor strode forward to the edge of the stadium, having had her fun, and clasped her hands behind her back, doing a joyful twirl while humming to the sound of the instruments as the teens struggled above her.  “R.I.P. to the patient girl you knew, my audience.  La-la-la.  She’s getting tired of playing around.”

[Warlord’s Bloodlust: 80%]

[Bloodlust Aura: Activated]

Her opposition sagged slightly as the weight of her heated bloodlust crashed over them, only this time in person.  Two of the Magic Knight candidates fell to their knees, legs unable to support them as she became a giant in their minds.  The City Guards were the most steady, despite not having magic to combat her, taking up a position to allow them to swap out their tired comrades if needed.

“Oh, this is getting dramatic,” she whispered, scanning those who had chosen to take the fight to her.  “So many new victims to the slaughter… and a few familiar faces.”

Showing them a charming smile, Elinor closed her eyes, tilting her head to evade a bolt that Cole shot the second her vision went dark.

“Nice try, Lieutenant.  The Magic Knights could learn from your quick mobilization.  I’m getting a little antsy and bored, though.  So try not to die, challengers,” she warned, pointing up at the teens while opening her eyes to stare at the strongest Magic Knight candidate who had answered her call.  A dozen others were beside or behind him, waiting to jump in after his assault.

“Let’s put on a show.  Your comrades are waiting for rescue.  If you can harm me once or cut them down, I will give you that win.  I really hope you last long enough for the Alchemists and Conjurors to complete their preparations… because, if not,” she licked her lips, saliva thickening with the neurotoxin it held, “I will be helping myself to them.”

“Is that all?”

Her gaze shifted to the City Guard captain, the woman’s brown-hair shifting as she rolled around her neck and removing most of her armor to show a simple green tunic and leggings.  She left her belt on with its dagger, dropping her sword on the grass.  Elinor’s illuminated green eyes wandered over the nasty scars on her face, arms, and hands as the officer got rid of as much weight as she could to become more mobile.

“Captain Flera…  I can taste your anticipation, but you know you don’t have the firepower to fight me.  If I were attacking your streets, what could you do to fend me off as a normal human without magic?”

Murmurs ran through the stadium, many of the Tempest nodding at her comment.  Surely, the City Guard was nothing more than a mundane peacekeeping force only meant for your average commoner, yet Elinor wasn’t disappointed when the muscular woman tapped the shoulder of the boy who was her biggest competition.

“Lord Kasper, if your father isn’t full of it, you’re a prodigy that already unlocked the ability to conjure a Blue Blade…  Lend it to me and follow my lead.  We’ll win this trial together.”

Elinor met the woman’s hard blue eyes, feeling a shiver run down her own spine at the confidence in the soldier’s gaze.  This wasn’t some snot-nosed brat bragging or wanting to show off but a hardened warrior who had trained all her life to be a Magic Knight, only to be denied and made a joke, as much of the nobility saw the City Guard.

Kasper’s jaw tightened, feeling nervous as the Grandmaster Magic Knight leaned against the side of his chair, glaring at the City Guard entering a place typically denied them.  “You can’t just wield a Blue Blade, Captain.  I haven’t fully mastered maneuvering the—”

“Do it,” Elinor ordered, vision locking with the confident older woman and making the boy swallow.  “This whole competition is about exploring the new and taboo.  Show me what you have planned, Captain Flera.  I’m getting goosebumps.”

“I want to help!”

Flera half turned her body to watch Elira running up to them with her battered red armor, the pieces she’d borrowed from Sir Percy.  “Sorry, kid, tips would be welcomed against your mistress, but I’ve seen you move.  No disrespect.  You have talent, and I saw that style…  Sir Percy has been trying to tutor you, but you have no experience fighting as a team.  Sit this one out and watch.”

The dark-haired woman sighed with disappointment but nodded and stayed back with the others.  “I can’t, uh, tell you much.  Empress Elinor is very mysterious and seemingly has an endless number of abilities at her disposal.  Oh, mmgm!  Empress, your eyes and, umm, presence are kind of scary—like you want to eat me.”

“Who says I don’t?”  she lightly asked.  “There must be something you’ve learned from watching me that you could tell them.  By all means, spill my secrets.”

Elira shifted uncomfortably under her bloodlust.  “I, uh, I haven’t seen her use her chains yet.  So… maybe you’re holding back or can’t use them?  Plus, you like a good fight, which Princess Heather noted; you’re very confident, and that can be used against you.”

Elinor chuckled at the girl’s stumbled responses, focus returning to Flera as she held up her hand and nudged it to the left; Anala muffled a cry as the cage swung left, pressing Drake against her, ice-enchanted bolts missing the rope keeping it stable.

They didn’t know that Drake and Anala were seemingly synchronizing their elemental affinity, the fire-user puffing out frosty breaths that tingled the boy’s collarbone as they attempted to freeze a patch of her web in order to escape.  The former ‘enemies’ were turning out to be working together to a wonderful degree.  Aura was still a flapping fish out of water, totally oblivious to the pair’s plan and probably wondering why they were trying to ice her.

Anala and Drake might impress me further and free themselves before being rescued… unless Flera noticed it?  Elinor thought with a small smirk as Kasper pressed an open palm against his closed fist, generating a twinkling blue light.  She must have.

The boy slid his palm over the open air, creating an outline of a sapphire blade; the fancy, guardless hilt materializing in his hand as a sleek, ornate Kriegsmesser blade nearly as tall as the woman herself formed out of pure magical energy.

Impressed laughter came from the City Guards and Magic Knights behind the boy.  He breathed out a long stream of air, throat somewhat hoarse as he left the sword in the air.  Flipping up his own blade that he’d left leaning against his side, Kasper mumbled, “It’s going to destroy your hand—”

Flera reached for the hilt of the weapon without hesitation, a similar faint blue light twinkling off her palms as it closed around it.  She brought it around, goosebumps breaking out across the woman’s forearms, rolled-up sleeves bulging as she tensed her biceps.

Kasper shook his head.  “How?”

“Hmm-hmm-hmm.”  Flera expertly twirled the blade around her figure and behind her back as if weightless, leaving a trail of glittering light in its wake.  “Just because one was never accepted into the House of Magic Knights doesn’t mean they can’t use mana, My Lord.  How long can you maintain it?”

“Less… than eight minutes,” he answered, clearing his voice and causing the throng to get excited as the giant projection of the well-known city captain showed off her skills.  “A warning… it’s not stable and could collapse or explode.”

Elinor strode back to allow them to jump onto the platform, turning on her heel to spread her arms open wide to give them a free shot; maybe it was her Warlord idiocy or pride at play.  “Lovely—hehe, well, aren’t you full of surprises, Captain?  I wonder if Grandmaster Lilya will need to skip you by a few grades at the end of this.”

A small burst of weak blue light carried the experienced woman up the steep arena wall to land on the tile, Kasper joining her with his magic-reinforced steel blade.  Several Tempest floated at the edge of the little alcove she’d created in her nest for this little competition.

The woman took a deep breath and took a stance with her blade held level, ready to use her small magic reserves to jump her into striking range; her hair was already pulled up into a small bun to keep out of the way.  Kasper maintained a small distance from the brown-haired warrior, acting as her follow-up.

Elira gulped as the atmosphere became thick with tension, the ravens showing their stare down as the Tempest hovered over a Conjuror’s Gate they were going to use against her; clearly, the grandmaster was stretching things by allowing them to use it.  Meanwhile, the Alchemists created deconstruction alchemic circles to obtain raw materials to reconstruct into their anti-web weapon.  She’d given them a lot of room to grow and for new players to enter the field; now, it was time to enjoy herself.

[Warlord’s Bloodlust: 90%]

Flera slowly moved around her as her thirst for combat deepened, simultaneously dulling and sharpening [Strategic Mind].  Two long, ethereal spider legs formed from Death Energy at her back, curving around and drawing eyes; she was nearing the single digits at this point.  Her metamorphosis allowed two more, yet her pool was starting to run too low to use them when they weren’t needed.  The woman’s gaze never left her face, while Kasper waited for his opportunity to strike.

“I am thankful for this opportunity, Empress.  Fair warning, I’m going for your head.”

“Fair warning, hehe, if I could be killed by decapitation, then I would have died long ago,” she chuckled, working around her shoulders while testing her new, nearly 3-meter-long limbs.  “It is a strange feeling, seeing one’s body from a decapitated position.”

Flera’s low, slightly raspy voice held a degree of deadly mirth.  “I’ll take your word for it.”

Probing her senses, Elinor’s toes flexed against the web-covered tile, sending threads to latch onto the captain’s feet, yet a light pulse of magical energy through the woman’s boots scattered the signal, only creating a slight ripple.

Interesting, she thought, the world slowing with her hyper-sensitive perception as the guard shot forward, using that previous tiny burst of magical force to propel her.  Her flickering blade was faster than the previous 3rd-rank Magic Knight candidate due to the Blue Blade’s weightlessness along with her practiced maneuver, utilizing her well-trained twitch muscles.  Efficient.

Determined not to give ground, her left spider leg tried to deflect it, only to be sliced clean in two, despite the angle she’d blocked at; it was practically a lightsaber.  Undeterred, she twisted to the side to dodge, her right spider leg aiming for the captain’s kidney; she could get more serious with this woman.

Sadly, Kasper was there to back her up, glowing sword hitting with a heavy blow that didn’t cut through her tough exoskeleton hide like the Blue Blade but did force it away.  Flera twirled her weapon in a flourish while using her magic on a single leg to slide around and deliver a second fluid blow—perhaps she was instructor material.

Using her own momentum, she flipped into a barrel roll to evade the horizontal slash, two chains exiting the void; one carried her to the ceiling while the other attempted to latch onto the magical weapon, only for it to be vaporized on contact, which was a first.

Her feet met the silk by the cage, mind spinning as her focus gradually condensed around the skilled swordswoman.  The blue point was already rising to enter her skull, thrown from the floor as Flera’s other hand drew her dagger and tossed it at the rope holding the three noble kids to the ceiling.

What a cheeky play, Elinor laughed to herself, sensing Kasper’s sharp expulsion of magical force that carried him to the ceiling, as well.  His legs were wrapped in sapphire light to stop any web shenanigans, yet curiously, he threw his own sword at her, meeting at a cross right near her face.  Something didn’t smell right; they were too coordinated.

A reverse cyclone of wind rotated below her, Aura’s teary, accusatory eyes locked on her from her wrapped position; it was a pincer attack to lock her in place.  However, it was Kasper’s hands closing around Flera’s thrown dagger that made her smile, a blue glow encircling it.

Sticky webs drew her into the rapid slipstream of her internal silk network, carrying her outside the nova of explosive magical energy that erupted the moment the two blades connected; Kasper’s was nearly too late but managed to touch the tip of the Blue Blade just in time.

A quake ran through her hollow tunnel as the rods around the cage of the nobles rocketed upward; Kasper evaded the barrage of hardened silk at the last second, his Blue Blade flying out of the explosion and into his hands to eat through one of the spikes, yet the momentum still carried the boy to the ceiling.

Elinor slid out from a hole near the floor, somewhat covered in the liquid silk mess, as she straightened herself to face the captain.  The captain snatched Kasper’s thrown steel blade out of the air as it fell, twirling it around with a slight frown.

“A decent weapon.”

Sapphire light dislodged and broke Kasper away from the sticky ceiling, illuminated boots keeping him slightly off the silk floor; he was somehow taking orders from Flera without her speaking, which fascinated her.

She noticed Aura’s growl out of her extra eyes, the green-haired woman now shivering from Anala and Drake’s attempts to freeze their way out.  Her main attention was on the knight duo, though, fist resting under her chin and one arm under her bust as they met up to swap weapons again.  Kasper had somehow retained the dagger.

Elinor’s gaze lifted to her destroyed ceiling, a whole hollow channel of liquid silk devastated by the volatile blast.  “Are you communicating, or are those practiced tactics from Magic Knight doctrine?  Hehe.  I must say, you nearly freed them, Kasper.  Well done!  Uh-oh.  It seems my binds were a bit too thin,” she chimed, looking left as mist expelled from the nobles, flash-freezing and shattering her web.

In the rush of fog, she darted forward in the haze, yet a twist to her gut made her drop to her knees to slide across the ground, only for her right spider leg and left arm to be met by a blue streak from Flera’s reactionary twirl.

Dodging three more follow-up attacks, a whirlwind expelled the mist, revealing a shivering and quite pissed green-haired teen, her long hair weaving upward.  “That… was humiliating, Empress!”

Anala was shaking on the frosted web floor, now inoperable to her, as Drake held her shoulders.  “Hey, are you okay?  You’re not used to the cold—”

“I-I’m—heh, I’m fine,” she mumbled, quite a bit more timid and shaky than she’d been before as she hugged herself.  “It’s just… hard to—why can’t I use my fire… I can only access t-the cold…”

“You’ll be fine, Lady Anala,” Flera replied, kicking Elinor and slicing-off one of her limbs, getting a short chortle from her; the woman was good at taunting her and more than a little skilled.  The Magic Knights were sleeping on the captain, but she was an officer in the City Guard for a reason.  “Kasper—”

“I’m in position,” he mumbled, defending the three.

“Not bad, kid.  Your dad did teach you the Magic Knight Doctrine and Tactics.  As for your fire, Lady Anala, didn’t your family teach you that Tempest Synchronization causes a temporary instability in your magic?  You’ll be fine in a few minutes.  Prince Charming, why don’t you get the ladies some first-aid from the Alchemists?  I hear they’ve got some new tonics from the old queen.”

“Yeah,” Drake mumbled, handing the redhead a sheet of silk that had been torn off in the explosion to wrap around her somewhat exposed chest.  She accepted it with a small smile before it went to a pout, and she glared up at him.  “Thanks for distracting The Empress for us to escape—what, Anala?”

“How am I supposed to walk after you numbed my legs?”  she accused, quivers increasing.  “It’s sooo cold!”

“No, no, I get it!”  he said with a sad laugh, clearly having trouble standing himself but surprising everyone when he managed to lift the flaming-cheeked Tarkov into a princess carry; it had to be from the cold, right?

“Oh, I’m not done!”  Aura snapped, the wind-user picking up steam.

A breeze started to pick up around Elinor as she giggled and held up her arm, emerald flames igniting to refashion her lost limb and spider legs.  Yet, a sharp tongue dropped the shocked green-haired girl to the ground as Anala created a small lump of snow in her hand to send it smacking right into the girl’s red nose; Aura hit her butt hard as she stumbled back.

“Don’t be your typical vengeful stupid and leave it to the Magic Knights—we got destroyed—deal with it!  Ack…  Mmgmg.  Drake, you’re the worst!”  she lightly growled, smacking his chest and almost making him slip, carrying both of them to the ground.  “I’m so cold!”  she whimpered, curling tighter into his chest.

“Sorry…  I know I could have done better,” he weakly laughed, stopping at the edge of the arena to look back and offer her a thankful smile.  “Thank you for all your lessons, Empress.  Aura…”

“I’m coming, dammit—my butt…  Anala, if you broke my tailbone, I’m going to strip the rest of your clothes—Anala!  Wha—Drake?”

Another expert snowball throw, this time generated from the scowling boy, had the Proltis girl thrown for a loop as the other Tempest swooped in to help ‘medivac’ them to the field hospital the Alchemists had set up.

Not a bad guy, Elinor commented to her Court.  Anala’s heart turned out to be quite easy to melt, but I guess she is a little firecracker.

After the chemical performance, Elinor turned her two opponents, still ready to fight.  However, her real opponent was now here, and the heat in her chest was growing to dangerous levels.

Gesturing at the pair, she tilted her head toward the group of Conjuration students.  “If we continue, I might really end up killing you,” she laughed, running her hands over her hair to check her ponytail’s security.  “I’m getting too excited!  Hehehe.  So, let’s call it there since you did manage to impress me.  Now, I get to really kill something.  Besides, your time’s up.”

Flera sighed as she held the Blue Blade up, and it began to fade into sparkling light.  “It was fun while it lasted, Empress.  Considering you limited yourself to the candidates’ levels, I am the one impressed at how well you can perceive danger in combat.  Thank you for the chance to wield a Blue Blade, Lord Kasper.”

“No,” he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck and breathing somewhat hard after the rapid exchange.  “I’ve never felt so… alive and scared.  Thank you both for the demonstration of a real battle; I’d like to spar and learn from you in the future, Captain Flera.”

“I’d like that,” she said, emotions settling.  “Well, we should get out of the ring before whatever the Conjurors are cooking up decides we’re also a meal.  Good luck, Empress.”

“Oh, I don’t need luck,” Elinor whispered, stretching out her new arms.  “I just need to be entertained… because, hehe, I might get a little mad if this is too easy.”

[Warlord’s Bloodlust: 100%]

[Killer Instinct: Activated]

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