The Battle of Despair: Rise of the Valkyrie

Night enveloped the battlefield like an icy cloak. Kathrin cried out as an enemy arrow pierced her shoulder, but she fought on, her face contorted in pain. Blood trickled down her armor, mixing with the mud of the battlefield. She crawled back with difficulty, but every inch felt like she was crawling through burning coals.

Helga, the priestess of light, fought back against the attacking demons, but her sacred barriers crumbled under the relentless assault. The ice-cold steel of the demon claws cut her robe, and she felt her skin burn from the clashing touches. Her breath formed small clouds in the cold night air as she tried to withstand the attacks.

Elara and Elysia faced off against the powerful ice demon. Its icy aura spread like a deadly mist, slowing their movements and stealing their breath. Elara swung her spear, lightning twitching along its tip as she desperately tried to penetrate the demon. Elysia alternated between attacking, supporting, and healing, but the sheer size and power of the demon nearly overwhelmed her.

The nobles and soldiers fought desperately, but their efforts seemed futile against the overwhelming superior force. The dead piled higher than the walls of Venice, and the ground was soaked with the blood of the fallen. Despair hung heavy in the air, and belief in victory dwindled with every heartbeat.

But in the midst of this darkness something flared up - the indomitable will not to give up. Kathrin, despite her injury, fought on, her arrow bow aimed at the demons, even as her hands shook with pain. Helga, her robe in tatters, murmured prayers as she continued to rain healing light on her allies.

Elara and Elysia, their forces nearly exhausted, pooled their last reserves. With a final burst of strength, they once again charged at the demon. Elara flashed with determination as she drove her spear with all her might toward the demon. Elysia radiated healing to strengthen her allies even as her own powers faded.

The night seemed endless, the despair crushing. Hammering furiously against the battlefield barrier, the blood flowing from his women's wounds blinded Mortis with rage. But the barrier made no sound. Desperate, he dropped his scythe and knelt before the impenetrable wall, afraid of losing his women in this battle. 

"I can do nothing... Again I must watch my women leave the world before me. I'm still powerless," full of self-doubt, he hit the ground and collapsed, overwhelmed by his own fear.

His spirits were already giving their all, trying to protect his wives from harm, but even they were not omnipotent and were doing everything in their power. Suddenly the angelic figure detached itself from Mortis' scythe, raised the weapon with its two small arms and flew through the barrier. Mortis was shocked, not knowing what was going on and where his weapon was going. Then the voice of his system sounded in his head.

"Congratulations, it seems your weapon is about to become a soul weapon. She's trying to answer your call for help. It has collected enough small soul remnants to develop a soul itself, and since it is only a weapon, it may enter the barrier."

Angel flew to Mortis' women, just before the icy demon stuck the scythe into the ground and stood on top of the blade. They opened their mouths, and a shrill scream pierced the battlefield. With the sound of their voice, the scythe trembled and hundreds of spirits poured out of it, moving through the battlefield. Everything they touched was drained of energy and life force. The demons, including the icy demon, were horrified at what just happened. No sooner had the first scream faded than another rang out, and another, and another. At the fourth scream, some of the demons crumbled to dust. The spirit waves had sucked all life out of them, taking them with them into the realm of the dead.

In that moment of supreme darkness, when despair was at its deepest, the people of Venice and their defenders had found a spark of hope. Mortis' soul weapon had unleashed a force that pushed back the demons and allowed the defenders to launch a decisive counterattack. Mortis looked at his weapon, which was now more than just a piece of metal. It had become a guardian of souls, ready to fight for the life of its master.

The battle was not yet over, but despair had given way to a hint of hope. The people of Venice fought with renewed courage and determination. The outcome of the battle no longer seemed as certain as before, and the demons sensed that they were being challenged in ways they had not expected.

The giant ice demon, who had a lot of vitality and stamina, could take a beating, but he was scared shitless of the little white creature on the scythe. He, too, did not know how many spirit waves would remain before he crumbled to dust. Full of rage, he charged toward the scythe, determined to destroy this small figure.

As the demon came close to the scythe, Lysandra, the water spirit in Marina's soul, pulled it down and said, "Take me quickly to his head before it dies. Quickly!" Marina wondered, but with a spell she created a pillar of ice beneath her and hurled herself toward the great demon. She managed to grab the back of its hair, but didn't know what Lysandra was up to. The water spirit circled the demon and looked deep into its eyes. Then she said, "I don't know who corrupted you like this and formed you into this shape, but I will steal your power, poor water spirit."

A small ray from Lysandra's forehead connected with the demon and found resonance with something deep-seated within it. But the demon fought back and roared. Lysandra was in pain, and a duel of wills ensued. Just when the demon was sure he would win this as well as the battle of strength, another yelp rang out. His energy and stamina continued to decrease rapidly. In that brief moment of despair, Lysandra managed to penetrate his core and feast on his last remnants as a nature spirit.

Lysandra, with tears in her eyes, said, "I'm sorry, but it's over for you. I will take your water to myself." She increased her will, reached for the core and drew into herself the last clear energies of the nature spirit of that time. The demon lost its ice, yowled, stomped, and swung its swords blindly in all directions. At that moment, Elara leapt in with her spear and pierced the demon's heart, while Elysia darted in with her two one-handed swords to decapitate it.

The demon staggered, its mighty form wavering and finally crumbling to dust as its scream faded into the darkness. The people of Venice had defeated a formidable enemy, a demon of unimaginable power. Despair had given way, and a sense of triumph filled the air. But the battle was not yet over. The humans now had to face the rest of the demon hordes and continue to fight for their city and their future. But they had reached a turning point. They had shown that they were strong enough to fight the darkness and win. And with each defeated demon, hope sprouted that they could save their beloved city.

After the battle was fought and the darkness was defeated, an exhausted calm came over the battlefield. The Valkyrie, once an angel, stood proudly at Mortis' side. Her mighty scythe rested in the ground, symbolizing the victory and hope she had brought to the people of Venice.

Mortis, full of pride and gratitude, held the Valkyrie in his hands. Although it was forged of iron and steel, it felt warm and alive. He gently stroked her head as he admired her. Despite her size of only about 40 centimeters, she radiated immense strength and vitality.

With the Valkyrie at his side, Mortis hurried to his wives, who were badly injured but had fought bravely in battle. His heart was filled with love and concern as he grasped their hands and assured them that the nightmare was over.