Lysandra The saint

WHERE IS HE !!!!!

A beutifull Women Come Out, and she felt so strong, her chestnut brown hair adorned with delicate vines and flowers that reflect her deep connection with nature, while her emerald green eyes hold a calm wisdom. Her attire, woven from leaves, petals, and gemstones, harmoniously blends natural elements with ethereal grace. Believed to possess the power to heal both bodies and spirits.

Suddenly The women Attack them, with her oppressive aura, the surround land become destruct, Indah use verdant defend, to defend against the aura, the army also use a defend formation to hold back

"I think I know her," Indah murmured, her voice laced with a mixture of recognition and disbelief.

Helena turned to Indah, her expression a mirror of curiosity and urgency. "You know her?"

Indah's eyes held a trace of anger as she confirmed, "Yes, she is Lysandra—a saint."

Helena's confusion deepened, her voice tinged with incredulity. "Saint??"

"Saint Lysandra of Veridora, known as the Verdant Healer. She possesses a deep connection with nature, and her power is believed to heal both bodies and spirits."

Within the chaos of the battlefield, a shroud of deception unfurled. Celestina, the mastermind behind the intricate scheme, using a heavenly artifact 'mask of ludor-the divine grin' as Lysandra—a perfect mimicry of both physical appearance and unique powers.

'Heavenly item- Mask of ludor'

Whimsically crafted by a scorned dwarven queen because falling victim to the pranks of a mischievous young dragon emperor seduction, Worn by its bearer, the Veil of Illusion is a tool of uproarious trickery. It allows the wearer to morph into anyone they choose, transforming not only appearances but also voices and a bit of power

Legend speaks of the dwarf-crafted mask being swiped by a young dragon emperor who used it to steal the hearts of countless women while adorning numerous noble and king heads with a mockingly green hat. Chaos spread like wildfire as relationships soured, leading to a web of bewildering mix-ups. Fortunately, a young girl Steal the mask, aiming to thwart her old dragon emperor's misadventures (Dragon Emperor: So It's you my daughter), effectively preventing his attempts to plunge the world into comedic anarchy.

The disguise was flawless, every detail perfected to maintain the ruse. Celestina nod with satisfaction. 'Should i give it to my beloved son' she pondered with calculation, SHE WANT A GRANDSON ASAP !!!.

Back to the story.

"But why is she in the Polimex kingdom?" Helena mused aloud, her mind working to decipher the possible motives behind Lysandra's presence.

Indah's voice took on a speculative tone. "It's possible she's attempting to manipulate the situation," she suggested. "Perhaps she aims to create conflict between Polimex and our kingdom, pushing us towards the brink of war."

Helena's genius intellect was quick to grasp the potential implications. "A war between Polimex and our kingdom would serve her purpose," she concluded.

'But what does she want?, is she mention about the mysterious Man from before?. Who is he that make a saint comes personally to kill him?'. helena though

Helena's defiance was unwavering. "Do you think we're afraid of your kingdom?" she retorted, her tone laced with conviction.

Lysandra's response held an eerie certainty. "Oh, you should be."

Veridora awaited its moment to reveal its secrets. The description of the kingdom painted a vibrant picture—a land of breathtaking beauty and lush landscapes. Veridora was a kingdom where nature's elements wove seamlessly into every aspect of life. Verdant meadows, shimmering waterfalls, and ancient trees whispered tales of a kingdom deeply connected to the rhythms of the earth.

However, beneath this tranquil façade simmers a history marked by conflict. Veridora's grudge with the Tual Kingdom, born from the scars of a previous war, casts a shadow over its idyllic vistas. The pain of a past defeat echoes in the whispers of the wind, fueling a sense of wounded pride and unresolved anger.

As the mightiest of nations, Veridora boasts a roster of renowned heroes whose deeds are etched into the annals of history. Their valor and strength, embodied by many level 5 core, have elevated Veridora to a status that teeters on arrogance. The people are fiercely proud of their homeland's accomplishments, their hearts filled with the echoes of triumphant battles. This self-assuredness, however, has sowed a seed of complacency, as some begin to take their supremacy for granted.

As the air thickened with tension, a scheme unfurled within the mind of the enigmatic Saint Lysandra, a disguised Celestina. Her motives were as elusive as her identity, her intentions obscured by layers of cunning. Within the woven tapestry of her plan, a potent attack lay dormant, ready to be unleashed.

The moment arrived, and Lysandra 's power surged with an intensity that shook the very foundation of the battlefield. A soul attack—unique to a Saint of Veridora—emanated from her, a force that transcended the physical realm and delved into the depths of the soul. With the prowess of a Level 3 soul attack, her power swept through the ranks of the defenders.

The guards, clad in their defenses, stood valiantly against the impending threat. But Lysandra's attack was unlike any they had encountered. It was a soul, a name, an entity in itself—a natural enemy of Indah's abilities. As the attack reached its crescendo, the defenders' efforts to shield themselves crumbled. The air itself seemed to howl in anguish as the soul attack ignited a wave of devastation.

A chilling transformation overcame the guards. Their bodies convulsed, their faces contorting in agony as their souls were ensnared by the merciless attack. The life within them withered, consumed by a force they could not comprehend. The once-vibrant defenders now stood as lifeless husks, their souls consumed by a power that defied all logic.

Amidst the chaos, Helena's cry pierced the air—a desperate plea in the face of cruel fate. Regret gnawed at her as the consequences of her choices played out before her. The offer to accompany that mysterious, once declined, now seemed like a lifeline she wished she had grasped. Now, faced with the impending doom orchestrated by the enigmatic Lysandra, Helena's desperation mirrored the bleakness of the situation.

"Why your Verdant Skill Cannot block this", Indah shock, this is the first time she seeing his maid defend is useless

Indah nodded, her features grim. "It seems she has unleashed a level 3 soul attack—a power that bypasses physical defence and targets the very soul of her victims. She is a natural enemy to my abilities."

Helena's voice trembled with a potent mix of anger and resolve. "What do you want?"

Lysandra's lips curled into a sinister smirk, her eyes gleaming with an otherworldly light. "I want your lives."

Lysandra's eyes bore into Indah, and she inquired, "Do you have any last words?"

Indah's response was defiant and resolute. "I hope you and your kingdom meet your demise together."

A smirk tugged at Lysandra's lips as she playfully quipped, "Ah, you mean the Polimex Kingdom?"

As tension hung in the air, Lysandra attempted a negotiation. "Perhaps there is a way for you to escape your fate. Tell me where the boy is, and I may consider sparing you."

Indah exchanged a tense glance with Helena before responding. "And how do we know you'll keep your word?"

"Well, Just Go to hell", Helena Roar !!!

Lysandra's chuckle was tinged with malice. "Trust is a luxury we can't always afford, but nevermind, I will always find him, hehe."

In a swift and calculated motion, Lysandra conjured a Soul Crush attack, a level 4 onslaught aimed at the pair. However, before the attack could reach them, a surprising turn of events unfolded.

Spectral apparitions materialized around Indah and Helena, a manifestation of souls that sought justice. Their anguished cries echoed, intertwining with the tension of the moment.

Terror laced Helena's voice. "We're done for, Indah."

In a split-second realization, Indah's memory triggered—a talisman given to her by a mysterious benefactor. Clutching the talisman tightly, she activated it, causing the air to warp and light to explode around them.

Lysandra's attempts to counter the talisman's effect were in vain. The talisman's protective barrier deflected her soul attack, leaving her frustrated and powerless against its magic.

The talisman's pull intensified, enveloping Helena and Indah, and the world around them twisted and distorted. The fabric of reality seemed to tear apart before reassembling itself, a transportation talisman had done its work.

Unbeknownst to them, Celestina's plan had succeeded. She transformed back into her true form, her words a whisper in the air. "I hope you are safe, my son."

In a location some 50 miles away, the air quivered and spat out two women—Helena and Indah. Their clothes were torn, and their bodies bore the wounds of their escape from Lysandra's assault. They had managed to evade the calamity wrought by the saint. As the blinding light receded, Helena and Indah found themselves miles away from their previous location, disheveled and wounded from their harrowing escape.

From the depths of nowhere, a voice echoed—a voice that seemed to come from the very fabric of reality itself. "So, you've finally come."