Part Nine

Yawning, I peer out of the ice block at the bottom of the lake. The muffled sounds of the underwater world create a tranquil atmosphere, contrasting sharply with the chaotic events above. Lysandra finally finishes struggling into her suit, looking as uncomfortable as ever.

My eyes scan the murky depths. "Hmmm, it should be around here," I murmur to myself, trying to locate the cave that's our target.

Lysandra, growing impatient, peers out alongside me. "So? Are we just going to stay down here?" she asks, her tone a mix of curiosity and frustration.

I push her face away, slightly annoyed by her constant questions. "Can you swim?" I ask abruptly. It's crucial to know, considering our next move involves some underwater navigation. "To get out of here without being noticed, we need to swim... right there," I point out, finally spotting the cave entrance in the distance.

Lysandra starts to say something, but I interrupt her, already guessing what she's about to reveal. "Um... about that... you see, I am a dragon and—" she begins, but I don't let her finish.

Tsk, she can't swim. Typical. Without giving her a chance to continue, I break the ice wall and grab her, dragging her with me as I start swimming towards the cave. Lysandra flails in the water, clearly struggling with the concept of swimming.

"I'm going to die!" she yells, coughing and spluttering as she swallows water. Does she actually plan to kill herself with her panic? I need to get her to calm down if we're going to make it to that cave in one piece.

Struggling to keep a firm grip on Lysandra, I can't help but curse under my breath. What the hell is she thinking? Her frantic movements are creating more trouble than necessary, and at this rate, she's going to turn this peaceful underwater world into a chaotic whirlpool.

Gritting my teeth, I tighten my hold on her, clenching my muscles in preparation. In one swift move, I throw her towards the cave, using all the strength I can muster. She flies through the water, her body still thrashing wildly.

I quickly follow, swimming with powerful strokes to catch up to her. Reaching the cave, I drag her out of the water and onto a dry spot inside. She's coughing uncontrollably, spewing water like a broken fountain.

What an absolute idiot. With a mix of frustration and concern, I give her a hard thump on the back with my palm. The force of the hit makes her cough up what seems like a gallon of water. Hahahaha, oh my god her face.

"W-what the hell, Kael! I-I almost died!" Lysandra exclaims, her voice a mix of indignation and lingering fear. She glares at me, still trying to regain her composure after the unexpected swim.

I can't help but laugh at her dramatic reaction. "Stop bitching, aren't you a damn dragon? Are you telling me a dragon can't swim?" I tease, trying to lighten the mood while also pointing out the absurdity of the situation.

Lysandra just glares at me, not finding the humor in it. She coughs again, grimacing. "I can't have this taste in my mouth," she complains. Then, in a typical Lysandra fashion, she closes her mouth and ignites a burst of fire inside, burning away the unpleasantness. She finishes with a burp, releasing all the heat in a single, fiery exhale. She grins, apparently satisfied with her solution.

She looks around, her curiosity piqued. "Where are we?" she asks, her eyes scanning the dimly lit cave.

"We're in a huge underground cave," I explain as I walk further into the darkness. "Nyssa set up a teleportation portal a few weeks in advance, a couple of miles down here."

Lysandra's expression changes as she tries to place the name. "Nyssa?... I swear I've heard that name before..." she mutters, tapping her head as if to jog her memory. Finally, it clicks. "Oh, it's that girl in that class!"

I sigh. Seriously? She can't even remember class names?

Her eyebrows shoot up again as another realization hits her. "Wait... that girl is a cultist?"

I continue walking, answering her question. "She's not just a cultist; she's the head cultist of the group that infiltrated the Academy." I can feel Lysandra's surprise as I speak. The information is a lot to take in, even for someone as unflappable as her.

"Is she the strongest?" Lysandra asks, following me closely.

I shake my head. "No, the strongest will be dealt with by someone else. But she is the second strongest. The strongest isn't part of the infiltration group, but they will show up eventually."

Lysandra tilts her head, a hint of genuine curiosity in her eyes. "If she's the second strongest, can we beat her? I mean, she must be hiding her true strength, right?" she muses, showing a rare moment of strategic thinking.

Oh, would you look at that, the lizard is learning to actually use her brain. Maybe I should reward myself for managing to teach her something.

"We're not fighting her either," I clarify as we move deeper into the cave. "We just need to use the portal to get back into the academy."

Lysandra yawns, her interest already waning. "If we're not fighting her, just what are we doing?" she asks, her tone a mix of boredom and curiosity.

I pause, looking around the cave with a calculating gaze. "We're setting the stage," I say with a smirk.

★ ★ ★ ★

In the heat of battle, Azura, driven by his unwavering determination, engages Isadora with a flurry of aura-infused strikes. His every move, a blend of raw power and martial artistry, is met with Isadora's precise and unfazed counterattacks. The air crackles with the energy of their confrontation, a storm of ambition clashing against stoic resilience.

Suddenly, Azura is sent flying back by an unexpected, powerful blow from Isadora. He crashes into Knox, and both tumble into the lake. The impact is a jolting wake-up call, marking a turning point in the battle.

Lying on the ground, Azura's fierce grin fades, replaced by a look of realization. "Alright, join in!" he grunts, finally conceding that facing Isadora alone is an insurmountable challenge.

Knox, quick to his feet, nods in agreement. His eyes lock onto Isadora, analyzing her stance and movements, preparing to bring his martial prowess into the fray.

Quinn, her eyes alight with excitement, brandishes her daggers, ready to dart in with lethal precision. "Finally," she mutters, eager to join the battle.

Zephyr steps forward, the elements at her command swirling around her. Flames dance at her fingertips, water spirals in the air, and gusts of wind whip around her, ready to strike.

Sylvie, though limited by the terrain, prepares to manipulate the earth within the lake, her expression one of intense focus.

Calder hefts his great sword, a determined look on his face. He might not possess the same strength as Azura or Knox, but his resolve is unwavering.

Lyra stands ready, her eyes darting across the battlefield, prepared to offer her healing support wherever it's needed.

The group moves as one, a symphony of diverse skills and powers converging on Isadora. Knox and Calder charge in, their physical prowess creating openings for Quinn's swift and deadly strikes. Zephyr unleashes her elemental fury, creating a chaotic environment that challenges Isadora's defensive capabilities.

Isadora, now facing a multitude of opponents, moves with an otherworldly grace. Her sword is a blur, deflecting an incoming dagger here, parrying a martial arts strike there, and slicing through an elemental attack, all in a seamless flow. Her expression remains stoic, her focus unbroken amidst the maelstrom.

As Knox and Calder, with their impressive martial skills, charge at Isadora, she momentarily falters. Knox's fists, swift as the wind, and Calder's great sword, heavy as the earth, create a symphony of strikes that Isadora narrowly parries. Each block is a dance of steel and aura, her sword whirling to meet each attack.

Quinn, agile and deadly, darts in and out, her daggers a pair of lethal shadows aiming for Isadora's blind spots. The first few strikes are close calls, with Isadora spinning away at the last second, her movements a hair's breadth from being too slow.

Zephyr unleashes a torrent of elemental magic, her command over fire, water, wind, and ice transforming the battlefield. Flames lick at Isadora's heels, icy gusts whip at her face, and bursts of water aim to unbalance her, yet she moves through them with a grace that defies belief.

Sylvie, manipulating the very water they stand upon, tries to catch Isadora off guard. The earth within the water rises at her command, attempting to entrap Isadora's feet. But the stoic warrior anticipates this, leaping into the air, her cloak billowing around her like the wings of a bird of prey.

As the battle progresses, Isadora's initial struggles give way to a terrifying competence. Her ability to adapt to her opponents' tactics becomes evident. Each movement, each parry and riposte, is more precise than the last. Her sword, an extension of her will, begins to turn the tide.

Knox's strikes, though powerful, start to miss their mark as Isadora predicts his patterns. Calder's heavy blows meet nothing but air as she sidesteps them with an almost supernatural foresight.

Quinn's stealthy attacks, once a threat, are now anticipated. Isadora's blade meets Quinn's daggers with a ring of steel, deflecting them effortlessly.

Zephyr's elemental assault becomes a dance for Isadora, who moves between fire and ice with a fluidity that renders the spells almost ineffective. She weaves through the elemental barrage, her steps a mesmerizing dance on the water's surface.

The battle intensifies as Quinn, with a fierce determination, commands, "This bitch is adapting. Fuck that, everyone go all out." Her voice cuts through the noise of the fight, a rallying cry for her comrades.

Azura, feeling the pressure, clicks his tongue in frustration. "This is embarrassing," he mutters under his breath. He knows they need to escalate their efforts if they stand any chance against Isadora.

Knox and Calder's tattoos begin to glow, signaling a surge in their power. The intricate designs on their arms light up, enhancing their physical strength and speed to new heights. Their muscles bulge, and their movements become more explosive, a visible increase in their combat prowess.

Meanwhile, Zephyr, realizing the need for more drastic measures, begins to cast magic circles rapidly. Her hands move in a blur, creating complex patterns in the air around her. The air crackles with the energy of her spells, ready to be unleashed in a devastating barrage.

Azura, his resolve steeling, takes deep, controlled breaths. He starts to systematically coat his body in a dense layer of aura, a physical manifestation of his determination. Each breath he takes is synchronized with the pulsing aura, preparing him for a powerful assault.

Azura's next move is a testament to his skill and power. With a single step, he closes the distance between himself and Isadora, moving so fast that the water's reaction is visibly delayed. He launches a high kick towards Isadora's head, his foot slicing through the air with deadly intent.

Isadora, her reactions honed to near perfection, narrowly dodges the kick by dislocating her neck. It's a move that defies the natural limits of the human body, executed with terrifying precision. She jumps back, her neck snapping back into place in a fluid motion, a disturbing display of her own unnatural abilities.

But Quinn is already there, waiting for her. She appears behind Isadora, her daggers glowing ominously. The blades are mere inches from Isadora's throat, poised to strike.

Isadora, sensing the imminent danger, reacts in the only way she can. She closes her eyes for a brief moment, and when she opens them, her body is coated in a slightly thicker layer of aura. It's a defensive measure, one that buys her the crucial milliseconds she needs.

As Quinn's daggers close in, the millisecond the tip of Isadora's shoe touches the water, she vanishes from her spot, reappearing a couple dozen meters behind her opponents. The move is so swift, so sudden, that the displacement of water is the only indication of her previous position.