The King of Nargoz (Part 1)

While Tamara and Lena's blood drenched the forest floor, a succession of claps rang from behind weeping cherry trees. A lithe figure emerged from the shadows, and as the temperate air chilled, she sauntered toward the fallen two. Following the clapping sounds, Lena and Tamara stretched their necks to glance at their assailants, and both were startled to see a young woman with the traditional curly black hair of the aristocracy and the sapphire eyes of the von Karstens.

"Anke von Karsten?" Lena stammered as Tamara's heart swelled with a mixture of indignation and skepticism. According to the Technocracy's data, Anke didn't start proper thaumaturgic training before the Academy and should just be a Lesser Emissary. How then could she inflict such wounds on the two of them?

Lena, however, remembered Kilian's warnings, and her mood instantly soured "If you ever have to clash with Anke, run." Realizing that if she had the tiniest chance to win, her master would never speak such words, Lena spread out her fehl senses to seek the most reliable escape route.

Tamara, however, stood up, holding her bisected arm as she daggered Anke with a glower.

"I thought the Arcadian nobility never meddled in duels?" Tamara scoffed, but unperturbed by the words, Anke adjusted a stray curl and replied:

"Nonsense. The only thing that matters in a battle is victory. Since I came to kill you both, I must take no chance and strike to kill." The only reason why Anke didn't aim for the two's necks was that, unlike them, she could see that in the last confrontation, both gathered a large quantity of dra to protect that part. That being the case, she opted to first cripple their fighting power.

Tamara, especially, had an extreme reliance on her four limbs. Without them, she couldn't fight. And as the mahana secretly contacted her subordinates, dozens of armored forms rained from the sky, all tumbling beside her. Recognizing her underlings, Tamara frowned, raised her eyes, and was startled by the silent appearance of a three meters tall amethyst mecha that nimbly descended beside Anke. Equipped with missile doors, anti-aircraft beam cannons, dra propulsors, and an arsenal of cutting edge war devices, the armored giant instantly reminded Tamara of the Technocracy's top mech suits.

"A Crystal Lord." Both Tamara and Lena realized, the former due to the Technocracy's knowledge, and the latter from Kilian's teachings. The most dreadful force at Klaus' disposal, Kars' Crystal Lords each could rival an Archon and were more than a match for the empire's Golden Guards. They didn't wear power armors, but rather piloted mech suits—shaped like heavy knight armors—that became infamous for their unbreakable refraction fields.

Klaus once dispatched ten Crystal Lords to crush a coalition of Orlothi and imperial dukes that aimed to destroy his influence. The war's aftermath left entire cities in ruin, and while no one knew how many Crystal Lords Klaus possessed, the Technocracy estimated that if not a regiment, then at least a battalion hid in Kars.

Even without the warnings of her Hellhound senses, Lena knew that if she lingered in this place, she could forfeit her life.  Alas, no escape route came forth.

"Wilfried, I don't need your help for such trifles," Anke said, alerting Tamara and Lena of the pilot's identity.

"Your Ladyship misunderstands. According to our intel, that hellhound is one of the closest retainers of the new Kilian. By capturing her, we can lure him to us. I must make sure you don't take her life," Wilfried replied with a polite yet uncompromising tone. The cape-shaped metallic wings at his back shimmered in purple light, releasing an invisible screen that concealed everything across a 100 meters radius.

"As you please," Anke said, bent her hands into a claw shape and made a casual swipe. Though over 15 meters away from Anke, Tamara's remaining arm was sliced off her shoulders, rotated in the air, and landed on a tree branch.

"Aargh!" She groaned in pain and dropped on her knees. But shock soon superseded grief. Not only did Tamara's anti-magic fail to protect her, but her regeneration abilities also drastically slowed down.

"How...how can she?" Tamara stammered, but Lena who observed the move in detail, finally saw through the trick.

"It's Dra Control. She uses Archon-level Dra Control to slice and disrupt the flow of dra within our bodies. The released energy then hacks at us," Lena whispered, while mustering her energy reserves to stand up. Hearing this, Anke nodded in approval.

"Not bad. You have thrice the brain of the fool by your side. Why don't you give up your master to join my banner? I heavily dote on my servants," Anke said. The dra permeating the atmosphere wasn't a continuous flow, but an amalgam of dra particles that naturally bonded to one another.

The disruption of that bond released a berserk surge of energy that ripped the concerned area. Klaus invented and called the technique Flow Slicing. But while Flow Slicing required Archon-level Dra Control, it also demanded supreme focus and relentless training. Those with the skills to study it didn't have the time, and those with the time didn't have the skills.

Anke was the exception. In terms of Dra Control talent alone, Arcadia didn't have anyone that could compete with her, so Klaus passed the art onto her. With it, though her thaumaturgic powers remained at the Lesser Emissary rank, Anke could effortlessly rip High Emissaries to shreds.

"No thanks. Without master's orders, I don't lick cunts," Lena replied. For a second, Anke's brows creased, but as if the words flew over her head, she aimed her left hand at Lena.

"Then I suppose that I can only cripple y—" a sweeping kick at her temple choked Anke's words, making her whirl to avoid it.

"Foolish," she sneered, and clawed at Tamara's waist. But before Anke's move could tear her dra bonds, Tamara vanished and reappeared above her, dropping with a barbaric ax-kick. Narrowly leaping out of Tamara's range, Anke saw the ground at her previous spot explode with billowing smoke and rubble as if smashed by a dra missile.

"My body can do the thinking," the mahana replied, and as her armored legs shimmered in a silver sheen, she rushed after Anke. Each time Anke raised her hands, Tamara vanished to reappear at another angle, preventing Anke from executing her Flow Slicing. Worse, with each move, the mahana's speed increased, and Anke didn't doubt that if she let things carry on, one kick would find its way into her jaw.

Meanwhile, Lena stood on all four—or three, in this case—breathing hellfire as she watched every move of the two, and waited for an opening to behead the threat. It soon came.

Anke bent back to evade another one of Tamara's kicks while thrusting her scalpel-like fingers at her chest. Beneath her helmet, Tamara sneered. A sonic boom thundered, and like a meteor, Lena lunged into Anke and sank her fangs into her neck.

In that instant, both Tamara and Lena believed victory in their pocket. But Anke's lips curved into a wolfish grin, and Lena realized that even her hellhound fangs couldn't break past Anke's larynx.

Waking up to her miscalculation, Lena attempted to pull her fangs out, but Anke seized Tamara's leg in her right hand and Lena's neck in the left, then opened her mouth, releasing the most high-pitched, ear-splitting howl the two had ever come across. Their eardrums ruptured, their bones cracked, blood spurted from their ears, and all their internal organs experienced brutal damages.

"B-banshee howl, you're a...Fehl Mutant—" Lena stammered, before the world around her faded into nothingness.

"Beast mutations are so ordinary. How can they compare to the more elusive blessings of Fehl," Anke said and tossed the two toward the ground.

"I agree," a cold, authoritative voice boomed from all corners of the forest as a figure dressed in a long black robe, embroidered with red flame patterns, and adorned with the epaulettes of a high-ranking noble made its entrance.

As he stared at the newcomer, for the first time since his arrival, Wilfried's gaze hardened. In this Sura Plane, few could step into his concealment screen without alerting his detectors. However, this man could. Arms crossed behind his back, the new entrant walked past the bowers, enabling Anke and Wilfried to get a glimpse of his attire and face.

"Nargozi royalty?" They assumed from the robe. But as the face came into full view, both Anke and Wilfried's eyes widened to impossible lengths, as if a ghost had leaped out of their darkest dreams to snatch their life and breath.

"Impossible...impossible. An illusion? A dream?" Anke lost her composure, and eyes full of stupor, she staggered, not knowing if she should advance or retreat.

The new entrant made the choice for her, and faster than Anke or Wilfried's eyes could follow, he rammed his fist into her heart.

"Then you can wake up in hell." Blood gushed from Anke's chest as the man's fist tore through her back, ripping the life out of her.