Ayame’s pulse quickened as she took in the battlefield, amusedly observing how Quinlan was doing his utmost to somehow not die to the 100 aerial units chasing after him. Knowing he had things under control, she focused on the battle looming before her.
Excitement filled her heart at the thought of the great challenge they were faced with, but also because she was eager to observe and fight alongside her newly upgraded friends and allies. New classes, new powers—everyone was evolving.
And she had no intention of being left behind.
Beside her, Kaelira—Ambition—stepped forward. “[Runeweaver’s Armory].”
Out of thin air, she brandished a golden smithing hammer, and an anvil materialized beside her. Her armored fingers gripped the handle tightly before she raised it high and slammed it down with a resounding clang.
Golden sparks erupted from the impact, crackling with raw energy before streaking through the battlefield. Each spark found its mark, latching onto the frontliners—Ayame, Iris, Blossom, Lucille, and even Kaelira herself—before solidifying, reinforcing their armor exactly where it was needed most. A split-second adjustment here, an extra plate there, every enhancement tailored to their movements and fighting styles.
Kaelira exhaled, rolling her shoulders before grabbing her war hammer from her back. “Sorry… I don’t feel comfortable letting you run around in such shoddy armor. Until I can forge proper gear for each of you, please accept this reinforcement.”
Lucille inspected the glimmering fortifications added to her lightweight armor with a grin stretching across her face. “My class didn’t penalize me. You’re amazing, Miss Master Artificer!” she cheered. Despite going from the Berserker class to Bloodmonger, she was still penalized depending on the armor weight category she was wearing, hence her wearing light armor. She would get stat buffs for being in no armor at all, but… That was a conversation she would later have to hold with her man if she wanted to run around in linen clothes.
Kaelira stiffened at the unexpected praise, and despite wearing a mask, it wasn’t hard to tell that her face was turning a shade of pink that had nothing to do with the heat of battle. She let out a tiny, flustered whimper, clearly more pleased by the compliment to her craftsmanship than she would get for being a mighty tanker.
Ayame chuckled at the reaction of the athletic tomboy elf for a brief moment before turning serious. The dogkin were already engaged in combat. Their numbers would get overrun by the enemies.
It was time to show the world what they could really do.
Ayame spared one last glance at the battlefield in the skies, taking in Quinlan’s ridiculous aerial escapade. A hundred lionkin chased him like a flock of enraged hornets, yet he somehow remained unscathed, darting through the sky like a phantom.
He was fine.
Her focus shifted back to the fight ahead. The battlefield roared with chaos: dogkin clashed with lionkin warriors, and the air was overwhelmed with the clash of steel and the cries of combat. Their side was outnumbered. Heavily. Fifty against four hundred. A daunting number, especially considering the enemies had mounts and were of high level themselves, but Ayame welcomed the challenge with a fire in her heart.
“Let’s get to work, ladies.”
Her statement was accepted with firm nods. Despite Quinlan’s absence from their ranks, there was no problem with leadership because they all voted Ayame to be the shot caller ever since their man/master started fighting on his own due to his destructive AoE capabilities reaching too high levels.
With practiced precision, their formation took shape.
Lyra, the unshakable Juggernaut, stepped forward first. She was the wall. The spearhead. She’d ditched her old shield to be replaced by an enormous tower shield that she slammed into the ground with a taunting thud, daring the enemy to come at her.
Lucille and Ayame flanked her sides, ready to carve through any who slipped past Lyra’s guard. Aurora, Kitsara, and Seraphiel took position behind them.
And Blossom? She was already gone. A shadow among the chaos, a dagger poised at the throat of the unsuspecting.
As Seraphiel checked their formation, her gaze drifted back to Sylvaris, who was hunched over, panting as she wiped sweat from her brow. The Moonblessed Warden had drained herself of mana by keeping up the bombardment for so long, drinking mana potions to keep the onslaught going. But even with that… she was reaching her limit.
Seraphiel clicked her tongue. “Mom, you can’t hog all the glory! Sit down on the grass to collect yourself!”
Sylvaris gave her a weak scoff of resistance before collapsing onto one knee, watching as the younger generation took to the field.
Kaelira and her own squad adjusted into formation.. Meanwhile, Iris, now that she wasn’t needed to be the frontliner due to Lyra’s arrival, took the opportunity to approach combat as she felt best, which was striding toward her enemies with confident steps.
Aurora raised her staff, tracing the air as arcane symbols blazed to life around her. “[Ethereal Empowerment].”
A pulse of radiant energy burst outward, sweeping over Ayame, Lucille, and Lyra. Their bodies surged with power, strength flooding their limbs. Their muscles tightened, their senses sharpened because she’d just blessed them with 20 temporary boost to their Agility, Strength, and Vitality stats. This was an instant leap in might akin to leveling up six times in a single breath.
The lionkin cavalry roared mighty battle cries. Their mounts kicked up dust as they thundered forward with their armored riders brandishing massive halberds, spears, swords, or axes.
Once they were in range, Ayame dashed forward. Her feet barely touched the ground before she launched herself high.
“[Falling Crescent]!”
She descended in a bladed arc, cutting through the first lionkin in her path. His halberd swung toward her in a desperate counter, but she twisted midair using her trademark flexibility, flipping over the weapon and carving a second slash into his chest.
Beside her, Lucille moved like a beast untamed. The Bloodmonger giggled in sadistic glee as her tender, motherly side was nowhere to be seen, especially after her axe drank deep once she tore through the first armored rider that came into her proximity. “[Sanguine Rend]!” She struck the next one down, but instead of stopping, she stepped on his corpse and leapt into the air, using the force to come down on another with a vicious cleave.
Lyra, the unmovable wall, raised her shield as the lionkin charge collided with her. “[Bulwark Crush!]” The moment a halberd struck her shield, a concussive shockwave blasted outward, sending the lionkin flying backward as if they had slammed into a fortress.
Seraphiel, the Dawnbringer, kept the sky under her watch. Arrows of light rained from her bow, each shot piercing through armor, each bolt striking true.
As for the self-proclaimed ‘Master’s Good Girl,’ She had already reached the heart of the enemy formation. The Void Stalker danced between shadows as she struck from the unseen angles of occupied combatants. One lionkin fell before he even knew she was there. Another staggered as his throat blossomed with crimson. Her clawed gauntlets were drenched in the blood of her slain enemies.
However, their success wasn’t limitless. Ayame had worry begin growing in her heart when she notced that for every lionkin they cut down, three more took their place.
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