Chapter 149: Malevolence

"Ah, another lost lamb," Gisèle gleefully noted. "Come for your test as well, little one!? Come now, do not be shy!"

("This woman is crazy,") An apt thought to have at the moment, Mirabella glanced back at the downed form of Agatha. The wound on her chest was deep, and it was taking a lot of effort from Cor'nella to just stabilize the girl, ("Damn it if Agatha can't take her down, then what chance do I even have?")

"Standing around like that simply will not do, little one!" Gisèle chastised, "It must commence now! The other four shall not be as lenient."

("What? Other four, there's more of her?") That thought already made her uneasy, but a more nervous thought crept into her mind. Were the others as strong as this woman? ("Then Mikoto may be fighting one too? Shit, where the hell is everyone?")

Gisèle's spell traveled far, infecting more people no doubt. Everyone else was most likely busy keeping everything at bay and healing those who injured each other. Just recalling how everyone was suddenly driven mad made her nauseous. The scene was ingrained in her mind, she recalled everything in graphic detail. Friends turning on friends, lunging at one another and beating each other as they were in the middle of a brutish brawl.

A mother clawing her daughter's face, a father raising an axe to his own daughter. Killing was something the princess was all too used to; she had been complacent in it after all. Though despite who she had killed, those deaths were always fresh in her mind. She did not revel in it, she did not enjoy it.

But this Ancestor of Malice took pleasure in it, making her worse than scum. Someone who could take away lives so easily and smile about it. Mirabella's frown deepened, ("I ain't Agatha who has Arcane Ascendance, I ain't some Goddess like Lucinda and I am not a freak of power like Mikoto. But for now, that's fine.") Mirabella exhaled deeply, what was destruction to her?

"Destruction, use it to kill scum," those blunt words from a certain boy rang clear in her psyche. "With destruction, you can protect those deserving; even if you dirty your hands, at the very least, you'll be using it for good and not for what it was originally intended."

("I want to destroy her, no I need to.") She raised her right arm, clenching her gauntleted hand tightly, ("To embody what I represent I will shed it all, defense, healing, I greed for it yet I do not need it. What I want is to embody destruction, I will destroy this woman. I won't settle for just taking an arm or a leg. I want her organs, her eyes, and her very soul.") Her mana flared erratically.

But even when her mind was made up, she would still not be able to fully attain that wish she sought. For now, that was fine, the embers sparked all around as she could feel them. Even as those embers slipped through her fingers, they were there all the same, and she would use them to kill the woman before her.

She began to shed away her semblance of normalcy, stripping away layers of mundanity. As she extended her right arm toward her enemy, an unsettling silence fell. The partial transformation was breathtaking—an odd phenomenon to be sure. The air around her shimmered with potent and divine mana.

In an explosive display of light and mana, her arm morphed. Ornate armor materialized, bathed in dark-blue hues that rippled like the depths of the sea. Gold filigree wove itself delicately around the contours of the armor, floral motifs flourishing like an artisan's signature, glinting with a metallic sheen. Embedded within various sections of the armor were jewels of every color, sparkling like captured fragments of the sun. Each piece fit seamlessly, melding with her skin as it shielded her.

As Mirabella focused, an orb of pure, iridescent mana began to materialize in front of her palm, pulsating with a fierce intensity that illuminated her form and the area. It throbbed like a heartbeat, drawing in the ambient mana within her, and with each passing second, it expanded, throwing shadows against the ruins' shattered walls. Gisèle, wild-eyed had been steadying herself, sensing the surge of power radiating from her opponent.

"Familial Arts: Point of Annihilation!" A spell of immense destruction aimed to destroy both body and soul. A spell to bring down the very concepts woven into reality if used right.

Then, with a sharp inhale that seemed to draw the very air from the space between them, Mirabella unleashed the destructive wave of energy. The orb erupted into a blinding beam, a pure and furious manifestation of her destruction, cascading toward Gisèle like a comet blazing a trail through the sky. The ground shook beneath them as the wave surged forward, engulfing the crazed woman in a relentless storm of raw power. Dust and rubble were scattered like chaff in the wind, the world around them trembling.

As the wave crashed into Gisèle, the explosion that followed was cataclysmic, a violent burst that consumed the air and tore apart the remnants of the ruins around them. It danced with fervor, reaching higher than the tallest remaining structure, cracking the sky in a reverberating echo of destruction. The light of the explosion pierced even the heavens, a brief moment where earth and sky collided.

As the glow of the explosion waned, a thick haze draped over the landscape, settling like a shroud. Craters and scorched earth littered the ground, remnants of stones cracked and splintered, the beautiful floral engravings faded and eroded. Against this devastated backdrop, Mirabella's focus sharpened, her breath steadying as she prepared to confront the aftermath of her onslaught.

The smoke began to clear, revealing a twisted sight before her—Gisèle. The crazed woman stood impossibly upright, only on her left leg. Half of her face was a horrific display, charred and blistered, revealing sinew and raw flesh where skin had once been. Her once-vibrant eyes were now a mix of fury and delirium, the sanity once reflected in them now eclipsed by madness. As the dust settled, it also unveiled her grievous injuries—an arm and a leg utterly missing.

"Gyhahaha! Truly a sight!" Gisèle spat, her voice raspy. "This is just the beginning! But you're still nothing but a shimmer in a shattered realm, a flicker that will be still be snuffed out!" Each word dripped with malice, the cadence erratic and unsettling, hardly resembling the articulate woman she had once been.

"Shit! That wasn't enough?"

Mirabella sensed the building of mana from the Ancestor. Despite her injuries, her mana only grew, the air humming around them as a result of how prominent Gisèle's mana grew. With a shift, Mirabella began to channel her magic once more, focusing her mana into a tight sphere of light that danced within her palm. Glyphs and runes glowed across her armor, a network communicating her destruction waiting to be unleashed. She stood poised, every muscle in her body ready.

"Mirabella!" Cor'nella suddenly shouted out, "Her magic, she's-"

But then, before Mirabella could fully harness her spell, Gisèle unleashed a predatory laugh—a sound that was chilling. Suddenly, with an absurd, supernatural speed, she surged forward, a blur to all there. Mirabella barely had time to react as Gisèle closed the distance, her remaining leg propelling her with ferocious force that hummed through the ground beneath them.

Gisèle's fist, imbued with absurd mana still coursing through her shattered form, struck Mirabella's stomach with an impact akin to a thunderclap. The force jolted through Mirabella, her body propelled backward as if she had been struck by a battering ram. Time seemed to stretch; she felt weightless, the wind howling in her ears, vision blurring and the taste of iron flooding her mouth. The ground rushed to meet her, and she landed hard, the impact sending shockwaves of pain rippling through her body.

"Look at you!" Gisèle cackled, her laughter manic, each syllable dripping with delight at Mirabella's involuntary tumble. "Not ready, not ready, not ready! I must save you by carving you into fine pieces!" She continued to spout her wild claims, her remaining leg wobbling as she regained her uneven stance.

Mirabella struggled to rise, her heartbeat pounding in her ears, the pain of the strike still reverberating in her form. She could feel the transformation in her right arm begin to wane; she needed to finish this quickly.

"Mirabella!" She heard Cor'nella yell out once more, "The more damage she takes, the stronger she gets!" Mirabella looked at the fairy incredulously, but from how absurd the Ancestor's mana was getting, that may be the case. The sheer quantity was beginning to rival Lucinda's, and then in an instance, Gisèle attacked.

A rapid buildup of mana was all the second princess felt, a streak of red traveled through the air at an absurd pace. A mana slash, way faster than the one that took out Agatha, Mirabella did not even register the attack until it was upon her.

"!?" She could not even attempt to counteract with an equally destructive spell. On instinct, she closed her eyes waiting for the pain. She waited and waited, yet it did not come, no pain crossed her body. She slowly opened her eyes only to look on in confusion; hovering in front of her was a barrier. It was ethereal, a tranquil and translucent teal flower large enough to defend her entire body. It radiated a kind of mana that seemed to be in tune with the very world.

"Seems I am late," She heard a voice utter out as the clicking of heels followed suit, someone stepped up beside her. Rowena stopped beside the kneeled-over princess. Her dull eyes scanning the ruined area, fresh blood still decorated the ground, and the ruined building structures made for a haunting sight. Her eyes snapped back to the one no doubt responsible, quite literally standing on her last leg, the grinning maniac cocked her head to the side at the sudden intervention.

"Ha-haha!" Her laugh was raspy yet still sickly sweet. "Another lamb for the tasting! Great."

"Who are you?" Mirabella could not help but inquire despite the looming threat of the Ancestor.

"Pay who I am no heed, the Ancestor has debts that need to be paid." Rowena answered disinterestedly, "I am merely here to enforce that."

Gisèle's disfigured grin only grew wider, "C-come now child," She tried to laugh but a coughing fit followed suit as she wiped the blood dripping from her mouth. She did not seem to mind the injuries as much, but the effects were there all the same. However, the payoff was simply huge.

The unique magic the Ancestor of Malice possessed was a strange ability. The more injuries she received, the stronger she got. Physical strength, speed, durability, and agility were increased to a staggering rate. The quantity and quality of her mana also grew exponentially; to others, such life-threatening injuries would put them out of the battle.

But for the Ancestor of Malice, she was stronger than ever, powerful enough to turn the heads of the Gods and dragons as her power grew with her injuries.

("I assume this must be the crazed Gisèle Dante spoke of, that fairy mentioned the more injuries she received, the stronger she becomes. Her mana already dwarfs my very own,") Yet despite that knowledge, Rowena's blank expression remained. ("Yet still the injuries are bringing her down all the same. I doubt an increase in mana would mean much without any limbs. But I'll finish this in one attack.")