Chapter 132: A hopeless endeavor

Standing at the brink of a snow-dusted cobblestone square, perfectly poised with Sabre held firmly in his hands, Mikoto frowned beneath his helmet as he eyed the nearest creature, a grotesque, malformed abomination, savagely ripping through what remained of a merchant's cart.

With a grunt, Mikoto surged into action. The snow crunched beneath his heavy greaves as he powered forward. Time seemed distorted as he pivoted with explosive force, striking out hard and fast, his sword a blur of black and red slicing through the air as he aimed for the creature's exposed flank, a stretch of putrid, glistening flesh begging for his weapon.

In one seamless stroke, Sabre was swung like a comet—a horizontal arc delivering a blow worthy of thunder. The impact resonated through the air, echoing against stone and the frightened gasps of onlookers. The blade cleaved through the creature's side as if it were fabric, a fountain of grotesque ichor erupting forth. The abomination howled, drowning out the city's cries. Before its furious eyes could focus, Mikoto followed through, rotating on his heel and lifting the sword above his head, channeling all his weight behind the next strike.

He brought the sword down with savage strength, severing one of its limbs, the creature's appendage collapsing with a horrifying squelch. It stumbled, panicking as it twisted and thrashed about, desperately seeking balance. Mikoto pressed the attack, dashing forward in a fluid motion that almost had the beauty of a practiced dancer behind it. He ducked under a flailing grasp, his body bending low, and in one movement, sprung up, driving the sword through the hideous creature's skull, which split like rotten wood, scattering dark ichor across the now-scarred ground.

"One less eldritch horror," Mikoto murmured, the few people frozen in horror watching in awe, a transformation from fear to admiration as they began to rally behind this unexpected champion.

"Look at these wretched things pile up." Ignoring them, he sprinted toward a trio of abominations that had cornered a mother and her child, their grotesque fangs bared as they advanced like predators. As if slicing through the air alone, he lunged into the fray, using his momentum to slash at the first creature's neck—a motion that ended with its head detached, rolling away into the snow.

"Disgusting," he jeered, not waiting for a retort as he whipped around, thrusting his sword into the second creature's midsection, twisting the blade like a chef preparing a meal. The abomination erupted in a vicious spray, its life seeping out as it convulsed weakly. Cries of disbelief echoed around him as the civilians began to comprehend that salvation resided in him.

With almost expert dexterity, he pivoted, his feet finding purchase on the slick stones as he moved around the remaining creature—a hideous, twisted monstrosity with long, fractious limbs. It lunged at him, its claws scraping the frozen ground, but Mikoto anticipated, sidestepping with agility that belied his armor's bulk, then countering with a fluid diagonal slash that bisected the abomination at the waist. It howled a sound of anguish that twisted into silence as its body crumpled to the ground in two distinct halves, collapsing away from him in an explosion of bright red flesh that stained the white snow beneath.

As he turned, searching for the next threat, he spotted a creature towering above a group of elderly men attempting to flee. Its elongated, bladed forearms glinted wickedly in the muted light as it prepared to take down the last vestiges of hope. Mikoto sprinted again—each stride propelling him closer to it. His sword gleamed as he vaulted over a ruined wooden cart, landing deftly behind the monstrous beast. Without hesitation, he swung upward, Sabre biting deep into the creature's back.

It shrieked, startled, spinning to confront this new foe. Mikoto met its fiery, red eyes, spinning to gather momentum for his next strike, his armor glinting ominously in the flickering light.

With a flurry of motion, he struck again and again—carving the creature to pieces in an instant. Glancing toward the onlookers behind him, Mikoto offered a nod of encouragement as he turned to dispatch more of the creatures.

["Mikoto, can you hear me?"] He stopped as a familiar voice resounded in his head, ["It's Victoria. I'm merely making use of some advanced telepathy magic."]

("Loud and clear.")

["We have a bit of a situation here and could use your help."]

("Kinda busy at the moment, you know, saving lives and killing things.")

["Alright, judging by how much mana this woman has, I think we can survive for ten minutes or so, maybe. At any rate, I used my Familial Arts to locate all the foreign signatures of these creatures. I'll guide you and Agatha, so heed my words."] Mikoto gave but a grunt of acknowledgment as he began to run through the city.

["To your right, three of them in the alley behind the apothecary."] Her tone was urgent, rare for Victoria. Drawing from their harmonious link, Mikoto reached deep within himself, feeling the pulse of power building. He needed to be faster, so he began to channel enhancement magic, envisioning a flow of vibrant energy cascading through every limb.

An intense red aura ignited around him—a coruscating blaze that illuminated the growing light like a beacon. The light surged, wrapping around his body, enhancing every muscle fiber, every sinew, pushing an already explosive strength to the limit. He wanted to avoid using too large spells for the sake of the environment. So the snow beneath his feet melted briefly, evaporating with steam as he felt the world slow down around him, his senses sharpening to an exhilarating clarity that engulfed the senses in stunning detail.

With a single thought, he propelled himself forward, the force of his launch sending him barreling down the cobblestone street at mind-numbing speeds, fierce enough to break the sound barrier and then some. The air screamed around him, a resonating rush that harmonized with the drum of war. His vision expanded; he could see the monstrous forms of the creatures swirling in the chaos, their abominable silhouettes contrasting starkly against the vibrant turmoil of the city's destruction.

["Left again. There's a cluster forming."] Victoria's voice surged through him, dodging a wrecked cart by mere inches. He veered sharply, feeling the weight of his sword in hand.

Before him lay a gaggle of grotesque creatures twisted in form, snarling and clawing at the air as they prepared to strike a group of terrified citizens. A mere few heartbeats before the monsters realized his presence, Mikoto unleashed an attack of pure incentive. With a gesture of his wrist, he hurled Sabre—a perfect arc spinning through the air, its silhouette glinting ominously, catching the flickering light.

The weapon thudded into the creature at the forefront with stunning accuracy, impaling it through its gaping mouth, driving out a rush of foul ichor as it grotesquely thrashed about. But he did not let the momentum fade. In an instant, Mikoto closed the distance with phenomenal speed, a streak of red and black weaving through the writhing mass like a darting jet.

["Right hook,"] Victoria instructed smoothly, clarity unfurling in his mind just as the first creature began to fall. He followed her guidance, spinning to his left and unleashing a punch into the face of another beast, his gauntlet connecting with sickening force as bone shattered against alloy. The creature reeled back, its maw snapping shut around nothingness as it staggered, bewildered.

As it faltered, Mikoto kicked off the ground, vaulting over the staggering mass of creatures, searching for his sword buried deep inside the flailing body of the first. He reached out, grasping the hilt and yanking it free with a deftness that sent blood spraying across him.

With a smile, he landed on the ground, wielding his Sabre anew, the aura surrounding him now a fiery beacon. "Time to die!" he called, dashing toward another cluster of creatures, his movements fast as he ducked beneath their slashing claws, soap-bubble light on his feet.

Mikoto twirled, driving his blade toward a monstrous behemoth too slow to react. He danced back, slicing its exposed flank, watching it stagger before allowing himself a moment to catch his breath; then he pivoted to face a pair of grotesque creatures that lunged at him simultaneously.

Leaping forward, he seized one creature by its outstretched arm, pivoting his body sideways, using its weight against it, slamming the abomination into its counterpart with a resounding crash; bone crunched and flesh squelched, and as they fell to the ground, he balled his fist, striking with focused precision to land a staggering jab to bring them down once and for all.

"Insects," Mikoto taunted, his red aura flaring wildly in response to the flames of battle that ignited. Breaching the cluster of writhing bodies, he reached out, locking gazes with another creature that crept up from behind a shattered chapel. Its raw, gnashing teeth dripped with foul liquid, but Mikoto was faster—it took only a heartbeat for him to sidestep, diverting out of reach, and promptly elbowing it in the ribcage.

The impact sent it sprawling, and before it could regain its footing, Mikoto executed a spinning heel kick, sending the monster crashing into another who circled back—his attacks were frenetic. Raising his sword to the sky, its red outline brightening in clarity, he gathered his mana, conjuring a wave of dark energy that burst forth in a fury. The pulse rippled outward, momentarily halting the next wave of assaulting monsters, completely obliterating their form.

["Now the chapel nearest to you,"] Mikoto heeded her words as he dashed to a large destroyed chapel. Darting through his opponents, Mikoto unleashed a barrage of strikes—his blade a blur, he easily dodged a strike here, delivered a killing blow there, Sabre whistling through the fray with merciless execution. The strength he commanded with his bare hands paralleled that of his weapon, delivering swift kicks and punches that demolished the creatures.

When the last grotesque creature lunged at him, teeth bared in a maw that promised doom, he seized the opportunity. Mikoto thrust his blade forward, the point piercing through thick, festering hide, driving deep into the heart of the abomination. The red aura flared, igniting the air with a final, brilliant flash as it writhed and melted away into the ether.

"Okay, that-" He cut himself off as he turned on his heel, it was like they tore through reality itself. Red gateways that tainted the air with more of the grotesque creatures writhing through, some as small as humans and others as large as buildings. Mikoto clicked his tongue in annoyance. ("Victoria, you guys hold on for a little while longer, more of these damn things are here.")

He readied Sabre once more and sprung into action.

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("Victoria, you guys hold on for a little while longer, more of these damn things are here.") Mikoto's voice resounded within her head, and she frowned. Agatha recovered, sluggishly rising from the wreckage as she leveled a glare at the mystery woman.

"I am known as Rhiannon," the woman introduced leisurely, the abominations around her completely ignoring her existence as she hefted her large golden blade on her shoulder. "And I've come here for reasons you need not know, but make an impressive showing, and I might spare your lives. Though be quick, currently over a thousand of my 'pets' are running through this city." A thoughtful look adorned her face before she gave a smile. "Oh, minus nine hundred, my, my, the dark knight works fast, but a few seconds. Oh well, I'll bring forth more."

"You're the cause of this slaughter, why are you doing this?" Agatha demanded steadily, making her way back to Victoria. Isabella seemed frozen, no doubt due to the opposition's immense mana, while Reynard seemed much the same, but perhaps he was just smitten by the golden woman's beauty.

"You need not know the reason, little girl," Rhiannon simply said. "Show me that you have worth, and that you have what it takes to exist in the same realm as I."

("Is that truly her motive?") Victoria could not help but internally question. ("I doubt she's causing this destruction just for the sake of it; there seems to be more to it.") But for now, she shook herself free of those thoughts. Now was not the time for them. "Isabella, dear, Reynard, now is not the best of times to be frozen in fear."

"S-sorry," Isabella blurted out, breaking out of her stupor. "It's just that...I don't know how, but I can tell she's strong, and that's not even taking into account her mana." Victoria hummed in agreement as she narrowed her eyes at the large golden blade their adversary wielded.

("Radiant Dior, a magic artifact from a bygone era. No special abilities but an extremely durable blade, strong enough to withstand forces of both destruction and creation. Virtually indestructible,") Victoria gave a light sigh as Rhiannon remained somewhat docile.

"Do you have a plan to win?" Agatha asked unsurely.

"Nay, there is no winning this. How-"

"Worry not, ladies!" Reynard suddenly cut in with a broad smile as he took a step forward. "Leave all to me! The great Inheritor of the Goddess of sea and freedom!" He confidently stated.

"..."

"..."

"..."

At the very least, Rhiannon quirked up a brow in amusement.

"Very well then, I've formulated a plan for survival. All of you follow my instructions to the letter, and we may live to see another day," Victoria voiced, receiving nods from Agatha and Isabella.

"It's not my style to follow the ladies' lead, but if such a beauty is requesting, then I cannot refuse," Reynard stated.

("Yep, we're dead.") Victoria blankly thought. "Reynard, activate Arcane Ascendance. With your mana pool, I gauge you have ten minutes in you. Isabella, use your Familial Arts to boost his stats, and Agatha, be at the ready to use your Arcane Ascendance."

"Right!" They all yelled in unison as Reynard surged forward with a confident smirk.

"Arcane Ascendance: Nautical Nirvana!"