KESM: Terra Quatuor Chronicles

A barrier of shimmering light crumbled in fractured luminescence, its surface rippling with residual energy. The Esper, Emaila, swayed as the last remnants of her shield faded, her breath shallow, her focus frayed, the staff she seemed to use in channeling power destroyed.

Staring into the distance, she noticed as the Drake's cerulean eyes.… one open eye, narrowed. Half-lidded in cold contempt. It must have believed they would crumble beneath its onslaught, reduced to smoldering ash or mangled corpses.

They almost had.

When the arcs of lightning leapt from the Cumulodrake's body to meet the team, she acted the fastest summoning the barrier.… surpassed by Sabbath who had already brought everyone within the reach of her ability — knowing fully well she would have to focus on as little surface area as possible, minimizing its coverage to bolster its strength — save for Hayz who was farthest from the team. Caught in the brunt of the strike before reaching the barrier, he was heavily injured, but he would live. 

When the lightning gave way to an eruption of Aura, the shield fractured leaving Emaila staggering. Her mental strength waned, and the light in her eyes dimmed, flickering like a faulty lantern, especially seeing Hayz so beaten up. Safe to say, she wasn't going to be of much use in the battle from this point onwards. In no small part due to her own glancing wounds, she had lost mobility in one leg, stabbed in her thigh, bleeding where the drake's talon had pierced through earlier.

'Damned beast.'

They were shaken up, the drake had been learning…. from them no doubt. Each attack had grown sharper, more calculated. From homing bolts of lightning to devastatingly quick dragon breaths, and now this.

It all seemed so insurmountable.

***

The Magus — Jon — took the opportunity to strike. Barely letting the barrier crumble in earnest, his chant was low and guttural, his staff glowing as he traced sigils into the air, his cloak charred and ragged. His jade ring burned with ethereal blue light — Unrefined Mana stored for contingencies like this…. not that he had expected to fight a Tier-2 Fiend, as a Tier-3 Human.

'So, the delay in the effects of his spells was simply a farce.' the Drake realised, having seen Spells activate immediately, after the Knight attacked.

Energies swirled around his being, ambient — Unrefined Mana, shining an otherworldly white light, siphoned from the broken rock of the jade ring, converted into refined — Polished Mana, that could be utilised in a Spell. In turn, that Mana converged as Runes, Glyphs and Sigils around the Drake, blooming into a magic circuit of molten light. For a moment, it froze, its limbs bound by some unseen force, this was raw, unrestrained arcana. It felt the mystical tug as though it were a tide pulling it under, its movements arrested as if the very air had turned against it.

But Arthurian blood did not yield so easily.

With a violent roar, it shattered the binding force, shards of Mana cascading like broken glass. The Magus flinched, his composure seemed to crack as the backlash rippled through, his hands festering as sparks raced across his fingertips. The drake's lips curled into something resembling a smirk. This one was weaker than the others. Fragile. Breakable. Or so it wanted to believe, but it knew better.

The summon was already complete. 

Towering spires rose from the ground, tentacles belonging to a Fiend — with proportions so ginormous it would strike fear into the hearts of lesser men — lashed at the Drake, restricting its wings, strangling it, attempting to end its life. A battle between beasts was truly a sight, wild and untamed, without strategy nor tactics. Just power and savagery.

Its suckers, serrated, latched onto the Cumulodrake with unbridled ferocity, instantly tearing away at the Fiend's once flawless scales. Looking at it now; equal parts painted crimson as it was grey, one could barely imagine such a beast to have been strikingly beautiful, almost majestic…. almost.

The tentacles vanished as ghostly as they'd appeared. Like a fleeting memory, practically being dragged away from reality as though it were unnatural for such a being to exist here.

Sparing no time to actively contemplate the meaning of it all, the C.drake flew forward, aiming for Jon.

The movement was swift, far faster than something of its size should be capable of. Its jaws snapped shut inches from Jon's form, only for the man to vanish in a burst of black feathers. He reappeared moments later, stumbling, his breathing ragged.

"You're getting sloppy, Jon." Hayz called out, though his tone lacked the usual bite. A sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead, his stance slightly uneven.

"Funny, coming from someone who's bleeding." he retorted, though his voice shook with the effort of speech.

The Knight, Hayz, had been given enough time to heal…. a semblance of healing. 

Jon was dual casting. The summoning spell had just been a means to distract the Fiend. Sure, the abomination he summoned from those pits was helpful, however, keeping it manifested for too long was equally as risky for a myriad of reasons. So he split his mind between casting that and transmutating Hayz's body, reforming his bones and flesh to a functional state, but not completely healed…. yet. His skin was still badly burnt. However, no grape sized holes perforated his body.

His chiseled porcelain skin visible through holes in the black armor that encased his body, seemingly less like crafted rare metal and more like an extension of himself — a second skin forged in battle and tempered by countless trials. Every plate was etched with scars, not of neglect, but of history, each one telling tales of blades turned aside and strikes endured. 

His helm shattered, revealing his once obscured face entirely, as the rain fell upon his scruffy beard and buzz cut, spiky vermilion hair. The faintest glint of fervor in his piercing sky-blue eyes, previously only visible through the slitted visors of his head piece. 

His half-shoulder cape hung: ragged, torn and singed at the edges, draped over his shield arm. Its once-proud fabric bore a symbol of a majestic bird of prey, perched atop a mountain, embroidered in gold that didn't seem to lose its shine, against time nor flame. The way it billowed in the raging wind gave him an air of restless menace, as though he were a spectre loosed upon the earth, bound only by the weight of his weapon. 

And what a weapon it was.

The massive battle-hammer he carried seemed to dwarf even his towering frame — now fourteen meters of Arthurian promise, a giant. The hammer's steel, stained dark with soot, blood and earth, remnants of the ongoing battle. Gleaming dully under the errant flashes of lightning. The haft was thick and straight, its grip reinforced with leather that bore the imprint of his gauntlets. It was no mere tool of war; it was an extension of his being, an Arthurian's blade, bound to their Aura, growing with its wielder.

The details of his armor now marred and uneven, save for the intricately carved emblem of Team Holiday on his right chest — A Citadel, crossed on one slant by two swords, and on the other by a witching staff, with a star atop the citadel shining brightly — carried the whispers of careful craftsmanship. The plates over his arms and legs were jointed with care, offering both mobility and near-impenetrable defense. Beneath the rare metal lay a layer of thick, darkened mail, its links shimmering faintly with an almost imperceptible enchantment. His belt was tightly fastened, a practical arrangement of pouches and loops holding spare clasps, oils for his gear, and small charms of unknown significance from Jon.

"I see you're all patched up." Jon said knowing all too well Hayz's condition.

Hayz smirked. "Never better." ready to jump into the throes of battle once again.

"I wish I could do that." Emaila said, referring to Jon's healing ability.

"Think bigger Emaila, maybe you'll find a way to do it like Him." Jon said, pointing in Sabbath's direction.

With a soft chuckle Sabbath said; "Great to see everyone in high spirits." They had surrounded the Cumulodrake.

Emaila, Jon, Angie, Hayz and Sabbath.