Inquisitor Ashely

The streets of Thimoria were chaos incarnate. Fires burned through buildings, smoke billowed into the skies, and screams of panic echoed throughout the city. Mesuna charged forward, her greatsword blazing with fiery runes as she cut through the wave of hooded attackers that surrounded her. Each swing of her blade sent tremors through the air, cleaving through their ranks as if they were nothing more than paper.

"Keep coming!" Mesuna roared, the flames on her blade flaring brighter with her fury. A hooded man lunged at her with a dagger, but before he could get close, her sword sliced clean through him. His lifeless body fell to the ground, joining the dozens of others that littered the street. "You think you can take over Thimoria with these numbers? Pathetic!"

As she fought, she noticed something peculiar. Every single one of these attackers was human. There were no signs of the inhuman races that made up much of Thimoria's population. The realization sent a chill down her spine. This wasn't just an isolated attack. It was a declaration.

Her thoughts were interrupted by another wave of enemies. She gritted her teeth, gripping her sword tighter as she swung it in a wide arc, flames trailing the blade. But as the flames left her sword, they flickered and dimmed, as though snuffed out by an invisible force. Mesuna frowned, looking at the runes on her weapon. They were growing faint, the fiery glow that had always been her strength slowly dissipating.

"An anti-magic barrier is getting closer," she muttered, her eyes narrowing. The closer she got to the source of the disruption, the weaker her magic became. That meant one thing: the mage maintaining the barrier was nearby. She needed to find them. Now.

As she pressed further into the city, following the trail of weakened magic, the streets grew eerily quiet. Bodies of the hooded attackers lay in her wake, but no reinforcements came. She wiped the sweat from her brow, her senses on high alert. The silence was unnerving, and the oppressive weight of the anti-magic field was making her sluggish. Even without her magic, however, her strength and skill with her greatsword were formidable.

Finally, she reached a small plaza hidden behind a row of crumbling buildings. In the center stood an old man, hunched over and clutching a staff etched with strange symbols. Around him were three other hooded figures, all muttering in unison as the air shimmered with the telltale signs of magic. The barrier's epicenter. This was it.

Mesuna's grip on her sword tightened as she stepped forward, her voice cold and commanding. "I will not say this again. Stop what you're doing right now,"

The hooded man froze, his chant faltering as he looked up at her. Even with his face partially obscured by the hood, Mesuna recognized him instantly.

"A saint from the Church of Inquisition," she said, her tone laced with venom. "What is someone like you doing in Thimoria?"

The old man visibly flinched at her words, his grip on his staff tightening. The other mages stopped chanting, their gazes darting nervously between Mesuna and the saint.

"I see," Mesuna continued, taking a slow step forward. "So it's true. The Church of Inquisition really has declared war on anyone associating with other races." She scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. "You've cut off trade, isolated your kingdom, and now this? Attacking a neutral city like Thimoria? Do you even understand the consequences of what you're doing?"

The saint's lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out. He looked… afraid.

Mesuna raised her greatsword, pointing it directly at him. "You should have stayed in Ziglait. This is the end for you."

The old man's eyes widened in panic, darting to the other mages as if begging them for help. But they hesitated, knowing that if they stopped maintaining the barrier to defend him, the field would collapse—and with it, their advantage. Desperation flickered across the saint's face as Mesuna closed the distance, her sword raised high.

Just as she was about to bring it down, a sharp crack split the air.

"Tch—!" Mesuna hissed in pain as a stinging sensation shot through her hand. She jumped back on instinct, gripping her sword tightly as blood dripped from her fingers. The ground where she had been standing shattered, a thin fissure running through the stone.

Her eyes snapped to the source of the attack.

Standing on the far side of the plaza was a woman clad in a sister's habit, but it was no ordinary uniform. Armor plates reinforced her shoulders and arms, and a long black whip coiled in her hand. Her face was partially obscured by a black mask that covered her eyes, but Mesuna could feel the intensity of her gaze nonetheless.

The woman tilted her head slightly, her tone calm but firm. "Drop your weapon, child. Surrender now, and I won't kill you."

Mesuna's lips curled into a snarl. "You think I'd give up that easily?"

Before she could take a step forward, the saint's voice rang out, shrill and desperate. "Kill her! Kill her now! She's seen too much!"

The sister hesitated, her whip slackening slightly. For a brief moment, there was something in her posture—regret, perhaps? But the moment passed, and she tightened her grip on the whip, snapping it through the air with a loud crack.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I have no choice."

The whip lashed out again, striking the ground at Mesuna's feet with enough force to send shards of stone flying. Mesuna jumped back, her injured hand throbbing as she struggled to maintain her grip on the greatsword. Blood dripped from her palm, staining the hilt of her weapon.

The sister moved with precision, each strike of her whip forcing Mesuna further back. The weapon was no ordinary whip—it seemed to hum with energy, its strikes leaving deep gashes in the stone. Mesuna gritted her teeth, sweat dripping down her brow as she dodged and parried. Without her fire runes, she was fighting at a disadvantage, but she refused to back down.

"What's the matter, child?" the sister taunted, her voice steady. "Losing your edge without your magic?"

Mesuna smirked despite the pain, her voice laced with defiance. "You'll find out soon enough that I don't need magic to crush you."

The sister's whip snapped out again, but this time, Mesuna was ready. She sidestepped the attack, using her greatsword to deflect the whip to the side. The force of the impact sent a jolt through her arm, but she didn't falter. She lunged forward, closing the distance between them.

The sister's eyes widened behind her mask as Mesuna swung her sword in a wide arc, aiming to cleave through her armor. But the sister was fast—she ducked under the blade, her whip coiling around Mesuna's wrist in one fluid motion. She yanked hard, forcing Mesuna to stagger and lose her balance.

"You're strong for a young woman," the sister admitted, her voice almost… admiring. "But strength alone won't save you."

Mesuna growled, planting her feet firmly as she pulled against the whip's hold. "Let's find out, shall we?"

With a burst of raw power, she tore the whip free from the sister's grasp, the force of the motion sending the weapon flying. For a brief moment, the sister was unarmed, and Mesuna saw her chance. She raised her greatsword high, ready to end the fight with one decisive blow.

But before she could strike, the sister moved with impossible speed, closing the distance between them and driving her armored fist into Mesuna's stomach. The impact sent her flying backward, her body slamming into a nearby wall with enough force to crack the stone. She coughed, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth as she struggled to catch her breath.

The sister retrieved her whip, coiling it around her hand once more as she approached Mesuna. Her tone was calm, almost regretful. "It didn't have to be this way, if only other humans share our vision."

Mesuna wiped the blood from her mouth, her grip on her greatsword unwavering. "You're right," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "It didn't."

Mesuna struggled to remain standing. Her body was battered and bruised, blood trickling from numerous gashes where the whip had torn through her skin. The remnants of her clothes clung to her frame, torn in multiple places, exposing the red welts crisscrossing her body. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her hands trembling as she tried to keep her grip on her greatsword. Yet, despite her battered state, her eyes burned with defiance.

"Before your warrior death, I will share my name with you, child," The sister said, as she gave a slight bow, but not enough for Mesuna to catch her off guard. "You may call me Inquisitor Ashely, and your death,"

Across from her, the sister—now identified as Inquisitor Ashley—stood unscathed, her whip snapping sharply in the air as she flicked it clean of Mesuna's blood. The sound echoed ominously in the plaza, a stark reminder of the punishment it had dealt. Ashley tilted her head, her tone almost conversational as she addressed Mesuna.

"You're impressive," Ashley admitted, her voice smooth and composed. "For someone your age, your skill and strength are remarkable. You might've even been a challenge under different circumstances."

She walked closer, her steps deliberate, her black mask glinting in the dim light. "But you're not good enough—not for me, not for an Inquisitor." She stopped a few feet away, raising her whip. "It's a shame. You would've made an excellent ally."

Mesuna grit her teeth, forcing herself to lift her sword once more, even as her muscles screamed in protest. "Do it then," she spat, her voice hoarse but unbroken. "Let's see if you have what it takes to finish me."

Ashley smirked beneath her mask, her whip snapping through the air once more. It didn't strike Mesuna, but instead cracked loudly as she drew it back, the sound punctuating her next words. "Don't worry. This will be quick. I'll make sure you die with honor."

She raised her arm, preparing to lash out one final time, her movements precise and practiced. But just as she was about to deliver the killing blow, her body tensed, and her head snapped to the side, as though sensing something. Without hesitation, Ashley leaped backward, her instincts screaming at her to move.

BOOM!

The ground where Ashley had been standing exploded into rubble as a massive greatsword crashed into the stone with earth-shaking force. The sheer impact sent dust and debris flying, obscuring the area for a moment. Mesuna shielded her eyes with her arm, her heart pounding as she stared at the massive blade embedded in the ground.

When the dust cleared, the sight before her made her eyes widen in surprise—and confusion.