Stella's Playtime

Brian staggered through the aftermath of the battle, his body battered and broken. Every step sent waves of pain coursing through his weary muscles, but he pressed on, driven by a singular purpose: to find Stella.

Through blurred vision, he scanned the area, his heart pounding in his chest. He could still feel a steady stream of essence going through their bond, Soul conduit. It was healing him at a steady pace, but he had probably just been through too much.

Now that Brian actually had time to feel it, he was shocked by more than one thing at that. Firstly, It hurt on a scale he didn't want to experience ever again. Seems pain was a constant companion of his in recent times.

Secondly, Stella's Essence actually had healing properties. He knew that his energy couldn't do that, otherwise that battle wouldn't have lasted so long. One of the reasons it actually had was that the damn wolves could heal and he couldn't.

He let these thoughts run through his head to distract himself from the uncomfortable feeling of bones mending and flesh stitching itself together. H e didn't know how those damn mutts did it, managing this distracting feeling and still battling him at the same time.

Maybe that's why they were dead.

Such thoughts filled Brian's head as he headed towards what he only assumed was Stella battling the rest of the pack. Not the scouts, the real deal sent to rend him to pieces. And to hell if he was going to let a newborn handle all of his battles for him. 

He felt that he had to contribute something to the main battle, if only for his ego.

As he approached a clearing, his gaze fell upon a scene that both reassured and astounded him. Countless higher-tier werewolves lay scattered around, their lifeless bodies testaments to Stella's formidable power.

He had already known that Fury of the Stars was a monster from what she did to the group of Zappy Georges that day, but he sure as hell had the confirmation he needed. In bloody, gory detail.

It was a sight that both filled him with relief and awe. The ground was littered with torn limbs and pools of blood, the air heavy with the metallic scent of battle. Moans and death throes set a sort of macabre music background.

The sight ahead froze Brian. For more reasons than one. These pitiful creatures had been torn , most of them ~presumably the 'weaklings'~ had been torn in two by sheer strength.

And yet Brian could barely move. Just the remnant auras in the area shook his heart. Part of him was screaming that being a frozen duck on a literal battlefield made for the sole purpose of butchering his ugly duckling persona maybe wasn't the brightest idea.

Nut Brian was transfixed by so many mixed feelings. Part of it was the pressure from Higher Level Beings like the wolves(what was left of them anyway). But it was mostly just mixed feelings. Fear, horror, terror, awe, a faint disgust which was ironic because it was paired with an almost overwhelming hunger.

Brian, however, barely managed to hold it in, even though the sigil on his hand was beginning to both heat up and show itself. Brian was alarmed. He didn't understand much about it so he turned to the only person he knew who might know more.

And there, in the center of the carnage, stood Stella. She was a vision of both grace and ferocity, her body glistening with sweat and smeared with dirt and blood. Her clothing was torn and tattered, clinging to her form as a testament to the numerous battles she had fought. Blood dripped from her two blades, staining the ground beneath her.

A lot of the wolves had been torn apart with beastial strength but some were clearly cut with the knives. The slices that Brian could actually see amateur, but her strength made sure it didn't matter anyway.

But what struck Brian the most was the look in Stella's eyes. They burned with an intensity that matched the flames of a thousand stars, a mixture of wild exhilaration and unbridled fury. Her laughter rang out, a manic sound that reverberated through the clearing, a melody of battle-crazed joy.

She moved with a fluidity that defied the chaos surrounding her, her every motion a deadly dance. Her strikes were precise and devastating, each blow delivered with a calculated fury that left her adversary reeling. Her movements were a symphony of violence and elegance, of bloodthirstiness and aloofness as if she were an extension of the very anger of the cosmos itself.

Her hair began to glow a dark golden and very scant purple streaks that seemed to contain fragments of the cosmos themselves were dancing with the golden locks of the juvenile spirit. Every one of her movements was better than the last and she improved at an astonishing rate. She looked eerily similar to Brian in fact.

An aura, faint to the point where it could barely be seen even if one focused, enveloped Stella. It shimmered and sparkled, a swirling maelstrom of energy that radiated from her being. It was a manifestation of her namesake, the Fury of the Stars. The aura crackled with celestial power, imbuing her attacks with an otherworldly force.

The starlight from above seemed to fall down, only to bless and augment her. Because she needed it to figgt against the last of these wolves. This werewolf in particular was the last one. It was huge however, easily twice an average werewolf.

Everything about it just screamed 'Final Boss'. Brian could tell that it had no special skills but was just a juiced up version of the small (Still big) guys. All Brian could tell, however, was that this was at least a 2nd-Step Walker Monster. And Stella was beginning to faintly pressure it and push it back.

Brian's exhaustion was momentarily forgotten as he watched in awe. He had known Stella to be fierce and formidable, but this was something beyond anything he had witnessed before. She was a force of nature, a tempest of fury and strength that defied reason.

As the last remaining werewolf lunged at Stella, its claws poised to strike, she spun gracefully, her body a blur of motion. With a single, fluid movement, she drove her weapon—a gleaming short-sword adorned with shimmering starlight—through the creature's heart. It let out a final, agonized howl before collapsing at her feet.

Stella stood amidst the fallen, her chest heaving, her gaze fixed on the horizon. Blood dripped from her wounds, mingling with the dirt and grime that adorned her skin. But there was no exhaustion in her eyes, no sign of retreat. She had found a state of battle-induced euphoria, a trance-like focus that transcended pain and weariness.

Even then, pain was a new feeling for her and she wanted to experience the brunt of it. She did not care for the sensation at all.

As Brian approached, his steps unsteady, Stella turned her attention towards him. Recognition flashed in her eyes, and a flicker of concern softened the edges of her battle-crazed expression. She took a step forward, her movements more measured now, and closed the distance between them.

"Elder Brian," she said, her voice a mix of relief and urgency. "You made it."

"Sorry I'm late to the party" he said as he chuckled.

"To make up for it, pretty pretty please cook some of the wolves for us?" Stella pleaded. Brian began to dread the day the little girl discovered sweets. That was surely a guaranteed disaster waiting on happening.

"Sure. I just need, to, Eat something first." Then the Hunger that Brian had been holding back could no longer be held back anymore.