13: It Only Gets Worse

Off the crowded streets of Orario, an elven woman could be seen rummaging around a thick woven sack. Her frame was covered almost entirely by a dark robe which made it hard to notice she only had one hand. Its contents almost seemed to overflow from the bag and she had to carefully push things aside as she checked a list another woman held for her.

"Hmmm... I think that's everything. Ori!"

Off to the side, a short elven boy jumped up, his innocent exploration of a merchant's stall disrupted.

"Yeah, ma?!"

"Get over here, we're leaving!"

As the kid ran over, the mother quickly weaved a thick rope around the top, even using her teeth to help tie it off. Grabbing all their things they began the slow walk back to the entrance of Daedalus Street. Fighting against the general flow of the street as more people began to leave as well. Even though the lights had yet to come on, no one wanted to stay out for too long.

POV, Orio Marcellus:

I think my body is affecting my actions. Although, with how happy I was, maybe my adult self would be humming happily and hanging off Natalie's hand. Today was a day well spent in my opinion. Being able to actually see the city and reaffirm the new world I was living in. On top of all that though, I was able to provide myself a little more survivability and utilize what felt like magic.

'Bah, who cares about elven magic when I can do this!... I'm still going to practice though. I feel like no matter what, the practice will at least help me in the long run. I wonder if I'm old enough to ask about it now...'

By this point in time, the only reason why I hadn't asked mom about it was because I felt like I was too young to do so. We are elves, even if I'm a half-elf, so I don't know when they start this stuff. Who knows, five-year-olds might as well still be babies in their eyes.

"Hm?"

'Why are we suddenly picking up?'

Looking around a little I began to see a few more figures beginning to join the crowd. Obviously, such a street would have people coming in and out constantly but these were a little off. Shady was the best descriptor. Looking up though I was confused, it was barely even 7 and the sun had little to no red.

'I mean, they are getting more blatant but surely they wouldn't do anything in daylight? Is my luck really this bad?... Don't tell me I have a fucking protagonist halo.'

However, mom's speedy retreat seemed to say, "NOPE" to fate's plans as she and Natalie began to book it. Mom even swept me into her arms after tying the bag to her back. Still, I couldn't help but keep my eyes on the streets.

POV, Third Person:

Upon one of the many buildings that spread along the street shadowy figures gathered together. Their faces remained obscured, whether by masks or helmets. Each of them, however, exuded a sense of power that distinguished them from the others that littered the streets. As they finally came together one of them, adorned with a heavy knight's helm spoke.

"Have you gotten confirmation that they are hiding here?"

Another person, this one a woman, stepped forward to speak.

"Yes... The scouts have spotted Mithras in the building to the right along with his familias captain."

 "...They don't have many left at this point. The captain would be the only issue. One of you distract him, let the lower levels gain some experience."

After the man's small speech, he quickly turned to leave. The others in the group all looked at each other for a moment before the woman who had spoken earlier simply began to take charge, the others quickly leaving as well. All of them sent her a knowing glance as she claimed her prey.

"Those pricks of a familia messed up my last job! Why would any of them even think to take point on this?"

Her voice was strained, a large departure from its previously smooth tone. Coming out with such vitriol she nearly shook in rage. Pointing her hand forward she quickly gave out some orders to the scouts around her, letting them spread it to the other on the ground. After finishing her minor rant though, she breathed out and prepared herself. From within her cloak emerged a short yet eerie staff clutched between her hands. Its shaft was a glossy black, shining with a golden sheen, and adorned with intricate engravings of swirling flames that ascended throughout its body. Nearing the top, a crook encircled a cracked red orb, marked with ominous black lines.

Bringing the staff forward she gritted her teeth as she began her chant.

[Fires untamed, chaos unleashed. From the abyss, a crimson fury rises.-]

As she spoke her staff seemed to glow a sinister black as the orb shattered further and a glass spike ripped into her hands. Blood didn't seem to flow from the wounds however, it was as if the glass was drinking her blood and as time went on the orb became a deeper and deeper red. Yet, her voice remained unchanged as she steadily continued her chant.

[I call upon thee, Blaze of Ragnarok, harbinger of blazing annihilation. By my will, bring forth devastation's might. The Last Flare.]

At this point the people under the building stood still, indecision marring their faces as they were confused at what the faraway voice was saying. But quickly, they began to run as a building's entire face exploded in blood-red flames. The conflagration twisted and undulated with a light so bright it would have blinded any who looked directly at it. Burning debris rocketed into the air and over the crowd, killing a few inattentive un-powered.

The hooded figures, hanging on the corners of the street, sprinted forward during the commotion, ruthlessly cutting down anyone coming out of the building. A frantic melee quickly broke out as the few adventurers and guards on the scene began to react; the clashing of blades rang out between the screams as people ran for safety. The masked woman, with her hands dripping with a veritable waterfall of blood, stowed the staff in her robes as she watched the building. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to determine if Mithras himself or his captain survived the initial attack. 

Taking out a red colored liquid she gingerly lifted her mask as she drank the entire vial. Yet, even with the potion her wounds healed slowly, as if something was fighting against the recovery with a fury.

"There."

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a man, wearing little else but a shirt and boxers carrying an injured man out of the rubble. Both of their bodies were covered in a thick layer of soot and ash, yet the man walking was covered in horrifying burns as the god in his arms pleaded with him to escape.

It was too late however as a man came running at them, sword raised. Yet, weaponless and injured, the captain casually deflected the blade with the palm of his hand and lifted his leg. The air around them seemed to freeze before it exploded forward and level one seemingly exploded into a spray of red gore. The kick obliterating the man's chest.

Murmuring to herself, the woman leaped off the building. "Level three at least."

As soon as she landed a small smile graced her face as she brought out a pair of short swords. The muscles in her leg tensed with an ominous crackling and in a moment a path between her and the captain was created. Anyone between them suddenly mulched into bits of flesh and bone as her blades passed them.

The captain quickly turned as he registered the new threat, his burnt skin peeling and rupturing at the sudden movement as he did the only thing he could at the moment. Throwing his injured god to the side, he braced his arms across his chest as he yelled out.

[NEVER ADMIT DEFEAT!]

The blades cut deep horizontal furrows into his arms but, they struggled to follow all the way through. A bone-chilling screech echoed around them as the sword scraped against his bones. Yet, instead of falling back in pain or his arms giving out, his body burst out in a bright silver light as he screamed out in rage and pushed her back. In a blur of movement, he punched forward in a furious combo that the woman barely dodged. A punch to her head quickly turned into a hammer fist toward her body as he lashed out with a jab followed up by a knee to the stomach she barely arched out of the way of.

Punch, kick, elbow, spinning back fist, uppercut, raging smash followed up with a tackle. All of it dodged or blocked as the woman flowed around his attacks. That is until during another tackle forward he snagged her foot.

"Shit!"

She was jolted forward as her hood flew back and her black hair flew into the air. Blood squirted from the wide gashes in his arm as he clenched his fists into a wild haymaker. Her body flipped through the air uncontrollably as it crashed back into the crowd. As the bright sliver of light surrounding him faded, however, he couldn't help but cough up blood. The two blades the woman once held were now stuck in his chest.