-oOo-

  Chapter 57

  -oOo-

  “Oh my, you’re just lovely,” Emmy praised. “Turn around and let me see everything.”

  Sylvia shifted her weight then twirled. A dress of dark violet swirled around her, a shadowy sky filled with sparkling stars. Twin tresses of curled silver danced in streamers. Sylvia came to a stop, crystal heels the color of her dress clicking on the wooden floor.

  She awaited the emeraldette’s judgment.

  Emmy was gazing through a blue screen, the gorgeous nebulae in her umbral eyes shining with brilliant light.

  “A mature and mysterious beauty,” the distant witch complimented. “Like a charming riddle I wish to unwrap.”

  Feeling a little proud, Sylvia touched her violet beret to ensure it was properly settled.

  Sylvia was dressed for the Festival of Light. In a few hours, she’d be with Belkis on the Ignis Rosa, celebrating Asmodeus’s wedding. The new year would dawn while the witches experienced Tartarus’s most magnificent cruise.

  For a lady, such an occasion demanded she looked her best. Thus, Sylvia’s new dress. Her hair and makeup had been done by an expert. Little flowers decorated her silver locks, adding shimmer and glam. Her lips and nails had been touched by color and gloss, brows and lashes tweaked to better frame eyes of fractal pink.

  Once, this would’ve bothered her. Not anymore.

  In the last two years, Sylvia had gotten used to ‘makeup’ thanks to Emmy’s encouragement. It was rare, however, for her to be so bold. Of course, this wasn’t makeup as Earth girls understood it. The netherworld didn’t have such a thing. Thin essences tended to evaporate quickly. Instead, similar changes were brought forth through the use of cosmetic magic.

  “See, I can fit styles other than cute,” Sylvia declared, nose raised slightly.

  The witch shifted her hips to let the emeraldette see her from another angle. Also, so she could better view her own reflection.

  “No one ever doubted you, little sis,” Belkis interjected. “It’s just that cute always suits you better.”

  “It does, it does,” Emmy agreed happily. “She would be so much more adorable with some bows, ribbons, and a little pink. But, it is refreshing to see Sylvia embrace womanhood, so I shan’t discourage her. And she is lovely. There is no doubt about that.”

  A silky length of silvery metal draped over Belkis’s body, hugging every curve. The hem was asymmetric, touching Belkis’s calf on her left side, while revealing the witch’s thigh on the right. Strategically placed in the prisma’s golden-brown locks was a blazing flower. The petals were a literal flame, blues rising into red, orange and yellow.

  The prisma’s dress seemed to resonate with those colors, the silken steel shifting with a subtle molten glow.

  “I still don’t know why I can’t wear Spring Blossom,” Sylvia murmured.

  The asteri studied herself in the mirror. Was Esmeralda right? Would it have been better if she wore something girlier? Sylvia imagined bows and ribbons on her dress. Hmm. A doll-like adorableness did favor her petite frame.

  …

  Blueberry muffins

  If she kept thinking like that, one day she’d cease to be a witch and become a magical girl. To save herself from that horrible doom, Sylvia wrenched her eyes from the mirrored abyss.

  “It’s the rule of seven, little sis,” Belkis reminded. “You can’t wear the same dress to the next seven events. Since Countess Chanlina saw you wearing Spring Blossom in the villa, you mustn’t wear it at the gala. Otherwise, people will think you have no creativity or style.”

  Sylvia’s deadpan gaze revealed her disdain. Belkis’s all too real delight when choosing her new clothes led Sylvia to believe the elemental witch was using the rules of high society as an excuse.

  “I’m afraid Belkis is right, my dear,” Emmy added seriously. “A lady isn’t to be seen in the same dress twice. Not on formal occasions. And, even if we consider that Spring Blossom has not received its debut, the dress is far too expensive. You are presenting yourself as a young witch who has just entered the second consolidation. A dress priced around 50,000 soli is just right. It shows the success of your recent endeavor while retaining a polite humility.”

  Ah, yes, the rules of women’s fashion. Recalling them conjured a sneer.

  No matter how you dressed it up, high society was just a wealthy man’s game of neener, neener, neener. Why did fashion dictate that a woman couldn’t wear the same clothes twice? So the rich could belittle the poor. A lady’s dress was a display of her means and station. Beauty was almost secondary to how much one spent. Too little, and they were a peasant. Too much, and they were a braggart.

  These games of standing dominated every gala, mortal and immortal alike.

  In Hell, these practices continued, with one major variation. Combat. Nothing in Hell meant anything if you couldn’t fight with it or in it. Men didn’t change clothes between events. They didn’t have to deal with that crepe. But that just meant they had to spend four to five times as much on their ceremonial armor.

  Because, otherwise, they wouldn’t be able to keep up with their peers.

  And losing a duel was a grave embarrassment.

  Ladies were bound by similar principles. The dresses Sylvia and Belkis wore were a type of armor, because it wasn’t enough for the dress to be expensive. It had to be functional.

  There was no better example of this absurdity than Sylvia’s towering heels. The dark, violet crystal pumps had sky-high stilettos that would earn Ingrid’s nod of approval. On Earth, a woman wore shoes like this to shape their legs and calves, but also to deride the socially inferior. The poor worked on their feet. Upper class ladies did not.

  In short: neener, neener, neener, look at what I can wear and you can’t.

  And in Hell, those unspoken words gained a subtle twist: neener, neener, neener, look at what I can fight in and you can’t.

  This was why, so many years ago, Esmeralda had insisted a lady learns to fight in heels. Because ladies were always looking for ways to display their feminine superiority. Indeed, that Sylvia had mastered the waltz of flowers while Belkis remained a beginner had drawn from the prisma many jealous grumbles.

  Even as Belkis insisted, Sylvia just had to wear these towering heels because she’d earned it.

  Which wasn’t to say Sylvia was above such childish displays. The silver-haired witch very much was not. Neener, neener, neener. Shoes were truly the basest items of fashion.

  “Humility?” Sylvia questioned, expression deadpan. “I thought bragging was the point.”

  “There’s more to it than that, little sis,” Belkis refuted. “It’s not just about money. It’s about image, strength, and style. The goal is to reveal not only your wealth, but your unique beauty and character.”

  Belkis spun, showing off her own dress. The metallic sheet shimmered on her body, the depths revealing molten colors. Sylvia’s gaze swept down to the prisma’s lower heels. Then her nose turned up, theatrically.

  Her sister clearly needed to learn the waltz.

  Emmy giggled.

  “There is an element of pretense,” the emeraldette admitted. “But it must be done beautifully and humbly. A lady must strive to be both elegant and subtle. This way, when the woman across is disparaged, she is left without a lever with which to respond.”

  …

  Was Esmeralda teaching her mean girl tactics now?

  “Emmy’s saying you’re absolutely gorgeous as is, little sis,” Belkis interjected. “Therefore, you should dazzle everyone with your beauty and leave the other girls green with envy when they can’t do anything about it.”

  “Precisely,” Emmy confirmed. “Which is why Spring Blossom is inappropriate. Some might use it as an invitation to duel.”

  Sylvia supposed it didn’t matter now. Her poor, helpless, money had already been spent.

  “Once the party is over, we’ll return to Kakós Lófos,” Sylvia said, redirecting the conversation. “Then, assuming everything is in order, we’ll head for the Cloud Island Wilderness.”

  Sylvia was still waiting for Moswen’s promised distraction. But she couldn’t wait forever. Sylvia had things to do and sticking around too long was suspicious in its own right.

  Especially with the rest of the crew in Kakós Lófos. Josephine and Silas had finished their shopping. The bids Sylvia had placed had been won or lost. The Utrecht was packed to the brim. In fact, to save space, Mr. Wells had sold both rattle cobras to local interests.

  With that cargo was Belkis’s staff, Blazing Storm. For now, the prisma carried Sylvia’s new weapon, Chrome Tempest.

  Sylvia would’ve preferred to hold Chrome Tempest in her soul. Alas, she lacked the inventory space. Sylvia had begrudgingly passed the staff to her sister, who was likewise limited and had traded out Blazing Storm. During this exchange the prisma had hinted strongly that Sylvia should hand over White Heaven instead.

  As if. White Heaven was staying with her. Why, Sylvia was sure Emmy would give it to her as a wedding gift. Right? … right?

  In addition to her staff, Sylvia had acquired two new accessories. The first was a Three-Faced Visage. Sylvia had picked this up in Yvonne’s shop. Visages were tools of transformation. They were faster and more consistent than spells or potions. With this visage in hand, Sylvia was free to store and assume three different shapes.

  Heh, heh. Soon Sylvester would have a chance to play.

  More practically, the visage would let Sylvia dodge annoying fans and courtiers. As the Cloud Island Wilderness grew in size, the witch often found herself hassled when shopping or eating at a restaurant. She dreaded the day the plane had paparazzi.

  Hopefully, some other sucker would be governor by then.

  The second tool Sylvia had picked up on a lark.

  This tool had been won at the Treasure House. Sylvia had gotten it cheap too. The witch had dropped a casual bid of 50 thousand and had been rather surprised when she’d won it.

  “I’m looking forward to having you back,” Emmy said. “Both of you. It’s been lonely here in Starport without you.”

  A smile teased Sylvia’s lips. She remembered how the little emeraldette burst through the interplanar gate to wrap Sylvia in her arms. She missed those moments. Emily’s pureness. Emmy’s mature love. Just being together. Teasing each other. Watching the sunset together.

  This was a lady with whom Sylvia could share all her burdens.

  Though, Esmeralda undoubtedly had a whole pile of chores saved up for when Sylvia got back.

  But working side-by-side was good too.

  “I’m looking forward to it,” Sylvia said honestly. She took in a breath. “I want to start on A Perfect Core next year. Between the hobgoblin’s code and the villa’s heart, we have enough research materials. I just need merit points, so I can buy all the skill books needed.”

  Wizard Means Wise X was also closing in on done. Every little bit helped. That’d be a thousand merit points saved.

  “Are you aiming for the territory phantasm during the auction?” Belkis asked.

  Sylvia nodded. “The public account still has two million in it.”

  Today was the Festival of Light and all of Pyrkagiás was ringing in celebration. Giant parades filled the streets, singing in the new year along with Asmodeus’s union. Late afternoon, the House of Silver would start the grandest of auctions.

  The core Sylvia was looking to buy was item 99 out of 100. A rarity to whet everyone’s appetite. By the time the auction reached the eighties, everything would be well outside of the asteri’s price range.

  She was a rich girl, for an untitled third consolidation witch. The high nobles, however, would have ten to a hundred times her liquid wealth.

  “The core is a nice to have, not a need,” Emmy reminded. “Acquiring the hobgoblin’s bloodline code was already more than we expected.”

  Sylvia grinned. “I promise I won’t pick a fight with any of Asmodeus’s wives.”

  “On that matter, remain cautious,” Emmy warned, umbral eyes sharp. “Chanlina has certainly noticed your prowess. You mustn’t give additional reasons for interest. Do not let your eyes wander in her presence.”

  Sylvia’s expression turned awkward. Jealousy aside, Emmy’s warning was completely practical. Chanlina was a Sapphite. The Sapphite faction had grown from a core of wives who’d taken the ‘love your sisters as you love me’ part of Asmodeus’s geas a bit too literally. Many of them were flat out lesbians who didn’t so much marry the prince as the prince’s harem.

  Sylvia’s preference would only make her a more desirable prospect.

  “How worried should I be?” Sylvia asked.

  “That depends on how much you revealed and the political circumstance,” Esmeralda answered. “The Sapphites will be displeased, having lost this recent bid to provide a fiancée. Should they already have a solid prospect prepared, their keenness will not be so strong.

  “But, should they not, you will be a powerful enticement. Particularly given your connection to me. Which is why, above all else, you must not reveal any hint of our relationship. If they think they can arrange such an exotic prize as two asteri at once, I fear the fervent members will stop at nothing to make you a bride.”

  Sylvia grimaced. Some men had to keep their eyes from wandering in fear of a jealous wife. Sylvia had to manage hers in fear of some other fellow’s zealous women.

  Magister Moswen’s distraction couldn’t come soon enough.

  “It is unlikely they will make moves so soon,” Emmy added, “No matter the skill or talent, a prospect cannot be called strong until they catch the eye of Asmodeus. But I do worry. Perhaps my gaze is spoiled, because I find you too perfect. Especially when you dress up so lovely.”

  Esmeralda set her chin on her palm, gazing out with doting elegance.

  “See, little sis, this is why it’s bad to be too talented and beautiful,” Belkis teased. “I’ve never had any of these problems when dealing with Countess Chanlina.”

  “Belkis, you are also my dear apprentice,” Emmy asserted.

  The dark-skinned prisma grinned. “But I can’t compare with Sylvia.”

  “I will admit, my fondness for you is very different from my fondness for your sister,” Emmy affirmed. Umbral eyes containing a gorgeous, green nebula turned. “Call me after the gala. Just the thought of those women trying to snatch you worries me so.”

  Sylvia smiled. “I will.”

  -oOo-

  “I apologize for the lateness,” Elroy of Est Sombre rumbled. “It was impossible to find time earlier. The guard wanted the city cleaned up before the wedding, and they put me in charge of a squad to do it.”

  “No, this is on me,” Sylvia rejected. “I should’ve realized things would be busy around the Festival of Light.”

  It was half an hour before Belkis and Sylvia would leave for the gala. Both girls were riding in the back of a constable’s carriage, with Gavin acting as their driver. In order to cross paths without attracting attention, Elroy had volunteered to escort the two ladies to their point of departure.

  The vehicle slowed. A moment later, Gavin opened the door. The goblin climbed inside.

  “We should be away from prying eyes for the moment,” Gavin declared, squeezing in next to the werewolf. “Now what kind of clandestine business are you ladies offering?”

  The goblin grinned, showing a row of pointy teeth.

  Sylvia’s eyes flickered in her sister’s direction. The elemental witch rose.

  “I’ll keep an eye outside,” the prisma declared.

  When the door closed a second time, the silver-haired witch chanted. “■■■ ■■■■ ■■■.”

  One hundred and ninety-seven runes melded with the element law. Private booth encapsulated the interior of the carriage. This magic would cut off the flow of information before cleansing the threads of causality. The asteri had already checked thrice. The carriage had only one spell for snooping, and it was controlled by the two men across.

  “Privacy magic. This must be serious business,” Gavin commented. “I like serious business. But the big guy, he prefers to be above the board.”

  Elroy stroked the tuft of fur beneath his snout. The werewolf’s sharp claws passed through fibers of white to reveal the dark matting underneath.

  “You said you have a task and an opportunity.”

  Sylvia studied the two men for a long moment. Gavin Thiefcatcher, as he now called himself, was a small, dark-skinned man. Greedy. Cunning. Rebellious. Redcaps had the roguish nature of the Katergaris lineage along with a nihilist’s cynicism.

  Elroy, by contrast, was stalwart. The werewolf was a firm and upright man who believed in honor. He also had a deep, personal faith and a powerful drive for greatness. Sylvia would never forget how Elroy struck the helmsman on the airship during the Young Demon’s Tournament. The werewolf hadn’t even hesitated before moving in accord to Sylvia’s decision.

  Did she trust these men?

  Sylvia felt she could. Not with all the secrets of the System, but with enough she was willing to risk a leak.

  “I’m here as a representative of a secret organization,” Sylvia began, pastel pink eyes studying both men. “This organization is recruiting talented demons. It’s my belief that both of you are exactly what we’re looking for.”

  “Miss Swallows,” Elroy interrupted, his deep voice filling the cabin. “Are you asking as a personal favor? Or are you here purely on this organization's behalf?”

  The asteri paused. If she said this was a favor, Elroy would feel compelled to accept. The werewolf considered honor heavily and had long been looking for a way to repay Sylvia’s earlier service. However, to lie was to disrespect Elroy’s beliefs.

  And this was, in a sense, a favor. Though Sylvia spoke as though she were a minor player, her role in the organization was second only to Lucifer himself. While she was reluctant to admit it, Sylvia could rightly be named an Apostle of Fire.

  “Planting seeds in Tartarus can be considered a favor to me,” Sylvia conceded. “Having roots on this plane will make future labors easier. But make no mistake. If you take this deal you won’t be working for me. You’ll be working for the organization. And I can’t promise I’ll return to Tartarus in the next decade. Possibly ever.”

  “I see,” the werewolf said thoughtfully. “And what would be required from us if we accept?”

  The witch pulled a pair of vials from her soul. Inside of them floated a single, bulbous, wiggling cell. Sylvia drew in a breath and laid it out plain.

  “You will have to amend the code of your soul,” Sylvia explained. “What I have here is a bloodline key. By adding this code to your core, you will gain access to something we call the System. The System is the foundation of the organization's communications. Without it, you cannot be said to be one of us.”

  The System was a terrible name, Sylvia had realized. But this name had already stuck. Everyone called it thus, even Prometheus himself.

  “I might be a poorly educated goblin, but even I know you don’t go around sticking foreign code into your soul,” Gavin scoffed. “This is an awful big ask.”

  “May I see the vial?” Elroy rumbled.

  The werewolf held out a hand. Sylvia dropped one of the glass tubes into the open paw. Elroy held the vial between two claws, golden eyes scrutinizing the contents.

  Sylvia allowed him a moment.

  All bloodlines had a limit known as potential. If a demon advanced past this boundary, they’d receive little or no traits during consolidation. That lack would be paired by a lesser improvement in talent. Forcefully crossing this point, therefore, marked the end of one’s cultivation.

  A bloodline key was one way of patching the nether code, adding aptitude where it was lacking. This, however, wasn’t its primary function.

  Instead, keys were used to open blood-chain locks. Clans used locks to control their descendants. An ancestor with high potential would take a snapshot of their code, usually before and after Awakening or Transcendence. Then they’d cut out the difference in the activated code. The removed section would become a key. The remainder would be a lock.

  Thereafter, members of the clan had to reach out to their elders if they wished to advance beyond a certain point. The Codrins bound their clan before Awakening. The Padure bound the Codrins and the other branches at the threshold of Transcendence.

  As for the point beyond that? Blood-chain locks were pointless. After Transcendence, the soul would exist above the code, able to absorb and compel additions easily.

  “Since you’re offering an exchange so bold, there must be something we’re getting out of it,” Gavin commented.

  Sylvia’s eyes turned to the goblin.

  “The System offers a wide variety of features, but the largest and most immediate gain is talent,” Sylvia answered. “This bloodline key will help reorganize your bloodline code. As a result, you’ll be able to cultivate faster.”

  “If I had a soli every time a fraud offered a shortcut to talent,” Gavin sneered. “I’m an ambitious goblin, but the two of us are already in a good place. I’m not interested in wishy-washy fluff. I’m looking for something more immediate. Something that’s real, solid, and preferably has a nice, silver glint, if you get my drift.”

  Sylvia grinned. The redcap was straight forward as always. Sylvia liked that. She, too, was an admirer of money.

  And it just so happened, she had some money to spare.

  “You don’t think I’d be having the two of you set down roots here in Tartarus without support, did you?” Sylvia teased. “If you take this deal, I’ll grant access to a keyed account. Five hundred thousand soli. That should be enough to get you started.”

  The goblin let out a low whistle.

  “Now, we’re talking,” Gavin sounded gleefully. The redcap leaned forward, emerald eyes glistening. “What’s the catch? The organization has to be getting something out of this.”

  “We are. Local support and mercenaries,” Sylvia answered. “Specifically, the organization will post tasks onto a magical board which you’ll be able to see in your soul, like a mirror pad. We don’t expect anyone to work for free, but payments won’t be in cash. Not until we can build up. Instead, we use an internal currency called merit. As for what merit is worth….” She smirked. “Let’s just say, if you have enough of it you can buy an item that’s better than a jade scroll.”

  “And the five hundred thousand, how much is for us?”

  “You can take a dip to get yourselves to the second consolidation,” Sylvia answered. “Let’s say, one-fifty. The rest is for setting up the local branch. Don’t go wild. Right now, we’re trying to stay hush-hush.”

  “Now, that sounds like a fair deal,” Gavin praised. The goblin leaned back, sharp nose turned up while he gazed at the werewolf. “What do you say? Should we hitch a ride on Lady Swallow’s ship, or should we stick to safer shores?”

  Pastel pink eyes followed the goblin’s gaze to the werewolf. Elroy stayed silent. The gaze of Gavin and Sylvia shifted a moment later. The werewolf’s hands were empty.

  …

  Sylvia wanted to facepalm.

  “Elroy, you stupid bastard!” Gavin roared furiously. “You didn’t just take that thing and use it, did you?”

  Ding. A cheerful bell rang in Sylvia’s head, happily declaring a Tartarus gamer had been added. While she was talking to Gavin, Elroy had skipped past everything and jammed the bloodline key directly into the nucleus of his soul.

  Golden eyes opened.

  “Miss Swallows asked a favor of us. There was nothing to consider,” Elroy rumbled in retort.

  “Damn wolf, always rushing ahead. At least wait until the deal is struck,” Gavin cried, aghast. “If you accept things without asking the price, how are you supposed to negotiate?”

  The werewolf frowned, snout turning in the redcap’s direction.

  “Miss Swallows would not offer a deal not to our benefit,” the werewolf countered firmly. “Negotiation was unnecessary. And even if she were to violate our trust, honor demands we accept.”

  “What use is honor? Can you use it to buy whores? Can you eat it to cultivate?” The goblin grumbled.

  Unbothered, Elroy’s golden eyes turned to the silver-haired witch.

  “Miss Swallows, to what obligations am I bound?”

  Gavin’s teeth were practically grinding. “If you had listened, you’d already know. Lady Swallows, I apologize for my companion’s utter lack of wit.”

  Sylvia laughed. Despite the goblin’s abuse, Elroy was an intelligent man. It was just that Gavin and Elroy used their intelligence in very different ways.

  “So,” the witch drawled, toying with the remaining vial. “What’s your choice?”

  The redcap let out a groan of exasperation, then extended a hand.

  “Lady Swallows, I hope you are wiser than me when choosing companions.”

  “That’d be rather difficult, given I’m going to be in the same organization as you,” Sylvia deadpanned.

  “At least the two of us understand the joyful clink of soli,” Gavin lamented. “I’ll let you explain things to this wolf. Because if I try to do it, I’ll start screaming.”

  Vanishing the bloodline key, Gavin closed his eyes.

  …

  “I apologize,” Elroy rumbled. “I didn’t mean to force you to repeat yourself, Lady Swallows.”

  Sylvia waved it off.

  “As I was saying, the organization is looking for mercenaries. There’s no specific obligation. Just do whatever quest catches your interest.” Sylvia conjured an account key, then handed it to the werewolf. “What I need from you two is to build a network. Recruit more demons. Collect resources. Get us information about what’s happening in the netherworld.”

  “I’ll see it done,” Elroy answered firmly, taking the account key into his soul.

  “As I said to Gavin, use a portion on cultivation resources,” Sylvia stated. “But be aware, we won’t be able to provide additional funds in the near term.”

  Elroy nodded. “I will discuss plans with Gavin once we better understand this System.”

  Thud. Thud.

  A hand knocked on the door. Belkis opened the carriage. The golden-brown haired witch stuck her head through private booth’s mosaic.

  “I hate to interrupt, but we really need to get going.”

  “Got it. We’ll leave in a minute.”

  Ding!

  A few moments later, a second bell sounded in Sylvia’s mind. Then Gavin exited, taking his place on the driver’s seat. Soon they’d depart for the Ignis Rosa.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  -oOo-

  They rode a pale blue carriage into the sky, the vehicle drawn by a drake. Theirs was just one among the many ascending. A score of carriages rose up to meet the Ignis Rosa, two queues spiraling into the heavens. Another pair of strands descended, returning to the city to collect new guests.

  Ignis Rosa was a skyship floating over Pyrkagiás, raining petals in celebration. The burning clouds of the fourth layer had been replaced by an expanse of celestial blue. Brilliant light fell upon the darkened world in a halo of beauty. It was as though the Heavenly Will itself had seen fit to bless the union.

  The skyship was huge, more than a kilometer in diameter. Multiple decks were stacked atop one another, creating an outward image resembling a rose in full bloom. Through the center of the ship rose a mighty spire, Turrim Amoris. This was the core of the ship and the residence of the elite. On the upper floor stayed the Prince of Lust along with his army of princesses.

  Th-thud.

  With a heavy jolt, the carriage set down onto smooth stone. The vehicle came to a halt. A brown-feathered garuda wearing a fez hat opened the door to their roofless vehicle.

  “The devil, Belkis von Vallenfelt, and Miss Sylvia Swallows,” the demon greeted, winged arm folded over his chest. He stepped back, providing space for them to exit. “Welcome to the Ignis Rosa.”

  Belkis descended, taking the offered hand. Sylvia followed after. The witch stepped gently from the carriage, crystal heels clicking on the smooth floor. Her sister gazed about, delightedly absorbing the sights.

  Twenty stories above was the broad leaf of Ignis Rosa’s next level. The ceiling was lined with ether lights, which cast the world in a cheery glow. Here and there hung banners celebrating Asmodeus’s wedding.

  “Ladies, is this your first time on the Ignis Rosa?” the garuda inquired.

  ““Yes.””

  Belkis and Sylvia spoke at the same time. The silver-haired witch deferred to her senior sister.

  “I’ve always wanted to come, but this is the first time I’ve received an invitation,” Belkis said excitedly.

  “Then you’re in for a treat. The Ignis Rosa is home to many entertainments. We have races, theaters, and games of chance. If you’re in the mood for a blood stirring thrill, there is an entire layer dedicated to battle. There are even small ships you can ride, to witness the fireworks and the splendor. A genuine romantic delight.

  “As the evening approaches, our grand ship will tear open the sky and cross into the starry void,” the garuda continued. “This will mark the start of the grand ball. In prior years, ladies like you might be lucky enough to catch the prince’s eye. Alas, tonight Lord Asmodeus dotes on only one.”

  “When’s the auction?” Sylvia asked.

  “The House of Silver will land upon the upper deck in an hour,” the garuda answered, with a deep bow. “I hear the final item is going to be incredible. So much so, we were asked to increase security in preparation for it.”

  “Thank you,” Sylvia replied, offering a polite curtsy. “I think we’ll start by taking a look around.”

  “Of course,” the garuda said. “If you ever have questions, you can ask members of the staff. You can identify us by our hats and our uniform.”

  Belkis gave an eager curtsy, then immediately rushed away. Clicking her tongue, Sylvia trailed behind the prisma.

  The Ignis Rosa was a skyship. Skyships were those designed to traverse both void and atmosphere. Such vessels were rarely owned by merchants. It was far cheaper to transport goods by astralship, unload them, then carry them the rest of the way by airship instead. Only the military, smugglers, and the rich were willing to cough up the coin for such an extravagance.

  And the Ignis Rosa was truly extravagant.

  “What a waste of my tax dollars,” the asteri grumbled.

  “Little sis, little sis!” Belkis repeated excitedly. The prisma pointed at a rectangular board which showed a map of the Ignis Rosa. “How about we start with the battle layer?”

  Sylvia drew close, then snapped a handful of pictures. Her digitized soul stitched together the images, transforming them into a digital map. The holographic structure rotated in her mind. The asteri’s eye twitched. Ignis Rosa? This was the flaugnarde Gold Saucer!

  … she’d loved that game.

  Maybe when there were enough dungeons, the Cloud Island Wilderness would have the spare processing cycles for her to play it. Suddenly, Sylvia was eager.

  “Why not,” she accepted. “We have plenty of time before the auction house.”

  “Come on,” Belkis said, moving in a rush. “I want to try out my new staff.”

  “Don’t you mean, my new staff?” Sylvia replied with an edge of warning.

  “It’s mine until you return Emmy’s!”

  Sylvia smiled. Watching a few battles sounded fun. There were other distractions that’d caught her eye. The races sounded interesting. Sylvia would like to see one, if only to know how Hell arranged them. Casinos? Forget about it, they only existed to suck up money. The theaters, on the other hand….

  They’d take too much time, sadly. Plus, Sylvia had already seen several plays in the last two months. She’d even posted them on the forum. IP theft. The Devil made her do it!

  “If you can convince Emmy to give me White Heaven, I’ll let you keep Chrome Tempest.”

  Belkis gave her a look. Sylvia met her sister’s gaze. She sent telepathic waves in the prisma’s direction. Give in to the dark side. Betray your master. You know you want to do it.

  Thin roads acted as a walkway between layers, the bands rising to connect separated petals. Along these paths space was constricted using magic. The element realm was needed to connect independent points. The element space, by contrast, defined a territory. While this magic couldn’t be used to teleport, it could be used to shrink or expand distance.

  Curious, Sylvia hit the path with Observe Item as she walked. A handful of tasty merit points were added to her account.

  Glancing through the bits of enchantment code, Sylvia’s thoughts suddenly turned to a martial manual she’d won several weeks back. Flux shift was a space-based ki art. Maybe she should look into it? The waltz of flowers was getting pretty dated. Also, it’d be nice to have a movement art that didn’t make her appear like some cutesy, anime magical girl.

  Sylvester couldn’t be scattering flowers wherever he walked!

  They arrived at the battle layer.

  “I wonder where we sign up,” Belkis said, glancing around.

  This layer took up an entire petal of Ignis Rosa. Here there was a giant coliseum featuring multiple arenas. Some were designed for duels. Others hosted games or fights between groups. Giant screens hung overhead, showing shots from the combats in progress. But these weren’t the main view. Instead, demons sat in chairs, suspended in the sky so they could view the fights from an excellent angle.

  There had to be a thousand people gathered on the battle layer alone.

  “It’d probably be best to avoid duels,” Sylvia commented.

  Belkis nodded. “There should be a few arenas which let you challenge phantasms.”

  A screen flashed. A giant man roared at the heavens, his foot on his foe’s dissolving corpse. Two bullhorns grew from the devil’s head, naked skin and bulging muscles revealed to all the viewers. A minotaur, fur shed during his Awakening. In the minotaur’s left hand was the head of a salaman. Salaman were demons from the Drakon lineage. Normally, they looked like humanoid lizards. This one was devil, as were virtually all of the Ignis Rosa’s guests.

  The minotaur proudly tied his opponent’s head to his belt. Sylvia grimaced at the sight. How disgusting. Well, at least the minotaur had muscles fit for a barbarian. Unlike Riley’s beau, Henry Taylor.

  “Step right up! Step right up!” A young voice called to the crowd. “Step up and face The Gauntlet! Who will be the first brave devil to throw their strength against a horde of phantasms? Prove your courage. Conquer The Gauntlet!”

  A three-foot faerie buzzed over the crowd. The boyish figure wore a fez and the uniform of Ignis Rosa. Sparkles fell from the faerie’s insectile wings.

  Belkis grinned. “Little sis, I’m going to give it a try.”

  “Go ahead. Just don’t die,” Sylvia stated blandly. “I’ll be really annoyed if I have to handle the gala on my own.”

  “Have a little faith. They won’t kill their guests left and right,” Belkis brushed off. The elemental witch pushed through the crowd to reach the faerie. “I’ll challenge The Gauntlet!”

  Sylvia followed at a sedate pace. In thick crowds like this, it was really annoying to be small.

  Which was why the asteri casually walked half a meter above the floor.

  “A challenger!” the faerie cried. “But before we begin, I must warn you of what you’ll be facing. Fifty fierce phantasms, each group selected according to your own strength. This is a true thrill, where you’ll dance on the edge of death.”

  “How close to that edge, exactly?” Sylvia asked deadpan.

  Belkis wore an exasperated expression. Tch. She wasn’t the one who’d have to explain things to Chanlina. Plus, they wanted to leave tomorrow if possible. Not the week after.

  “Ah, the delicate flower fears for her brave companion,” the faerie said theatrically. “Don’t worry, for every beauty we have a dashing knight ready to save her from monstrous maws. Of course, should your companions prove careless, I cannot promise she’ll survive.” The winged boy gave a teasing smile. “After all, can it be called battle if there isn’t even a hint of death?”

  Belkis laughed. “See, little sis, nothing to worry about.”

  “Let me watch as you get saved by the ‘dashing knight’ then,” Sylvia sneered.

  “I won’t mind, so long as he’s dashing enough,” Belkis said in retort. The prisma set molten eyes to the faerie. “I’m ready to crush this gauntlet of yours.”

  “Brave words from a powerful witch,” the boyish faerie said with a genteel bow. “Since you are daring, follow me, milady.”

  Sylvia watched with amusement as her senior sister was led off. Soon a huge screen showed a flashy image.

  Belkis von Vallenfelt challenges The Gauntlet!

  The image was as slick as any ad seen on Earth. Sylvia headed in the indicated direction. As the silver-haired witch entered the arena, her gaze was drawn to a booth.

  “Place your bets here, ladies and gentlemen!” A dark elf cried, fez on his head. “Will Belkis von Vallenfelt defeat The Gauntlet, or will this beautiful flower be crushed beneath a horde of ravenous beasts?”

  Sylvia cheerfully raised a hand. “Ten thousand on Belkis!”

  Once the asteri reached the counter, Sylvia slapped down a token. This seal was proof of identity, used to sign receipts. The Ignis Rosa had already confirmed her bank account two weeks prior. Rich nobles, after all, couldn’t be expected to wait on staff.

  Or worse, carry cash. Soli were heavy. Ten thousand meant ten droms!

  “I will mark down your bet, Miss Swallows,” the dokkalfar servant informed, reading her token. “Just so you know, it is not considered victory if the knight intervenes.”

  “I bet she’ll die even with the knight,” a sneering voice interrupted. “Fifty thousand soli on von Vallenfelt’s death.”

  Sylvia turned. Beside her was a sacred fox, Baroness Bai Meng. Stylized, platinum hair fell down the kitsune’s back, two triangular ears rising from the locks. At her back swished a long, fluffy tail. A blue dress clung to the woman, tight enough to reveal every curve but demure enough to retain class. The deep color drew sharp contrast against the baroness’s skin.

  “Baroness Meng,” Sylvia greeted with a proper curtsy.

  The asteri hadn’t recognized the woman. Rather, the System’s prompt had reminded Sylvia of Lady Meng’s identity. Bai Meng’s absent companion, on the other hand, was unforgettable. Sylvia’s duel with Dai Mei had been the highlight of Marquis Padure’s gala.

  If only she hadn’t been forced to dance.

  “I’m surprised a first consolidation apprentice to a rural noble can even attend such an august event,” Bai Meng said, her noble voice conveying just the right hint of disdain.

  The fox held a fan in hand. The feathers were dark blue fading into white, complementing the color of her dress.

  “It’s all thanks to my master,” Sylvia explained deadpan. “I was invited by Countess Chanlina. And, I regret to inform, Esmeralda Vallenfelt is no longer a rural noble. She was forced from the Timeless Beryl Wilderness by the war, leaving her without fief. Much like yourself.”

  Bai Meng’s silver eyes flashed with fury. Sylvia smirked. Can a noble without a fief even be called a noble?

  “No wonder you’re unable to place a proper bet,” Bai Meng said, her tone conveying false pity. “It must be difficult, relying on beauty and connections rather than accomplishments.”

  What a dangerous game, implying Esmeralda was a whore here on the Ignis Rosa.

  “Indeed, my wallet has grown rather thin,” Sylvia commented blandly. “Why, just two months ago, I sealed a deal worth 14.5 million soli. Now, I barely have enough for a frivolous bet.”

  Sylvia’s false smile asked: how much money have you made recently? The fan snapped closed in Baroness Meng’s hand.

  “Sisters truly are alike,” the ieros said, tone sharp. The fox turned, fluffy tail swishing through the air with princess-like prim.

  It’d be amusing to challenge the woman to a duel. A pity, Sylvia dared not attract the resulting attention.

  Bet settled, the asteri headed for the seats.

  Many chairs were set in a ring around the arena. Sylvia took one far from the entrance. A touch of magic and intent made it rise. Sylvia lifted herself until she overlooked Belkis’s battlefield. At first glance, the grounds appeared dull and empty.

  Then magic swirled.

  Air shimmered, creating an outer boundary that looked like faint glass. It took a second for Sylvia’s starlight eyes to adjust. Beyond, the coliseum’s enchantments went to work. The field’s floor filled with dirt, rock, and ash. A terrain was conjured into existence. Not a phantasm, a figment.

  But for a temporary scenario, a figment was perfect.

  In mere moments, the empty battlefield was replaced by a field inspired by the lower layers of Tartarus. Magma pooled and poured. The sky was covered by a burning haze of black ash. Space itself expanded. Originally, the arena had been eighty meters across. Now the breadth was closer to two hundred.

  The Young Demon’s Tournament was amateur hour by comparison.

  Sylvia’s lips curled in disgust.

  These were her tax soli at work. Four hundred thousand soli wasted on a rich man’s yacht. What a vile display of corruption. Government funds should be spent on important things. Like contracts to buy brooms. And, perhaps after, Asmodeus should pay her a second time to sell the brooms off plane. If business wasn’t stimulated, who would engage?

  What? Hypocrisy you say? There was no such thing. The Prince was an archdemon. Sylvia was a magical girl. Anything she did was love and justice by definition.

  See? The situation was entirely different.

  A dozen geysers erupted, creating a showering display of brilliant orange magma. From the center of the field, Belkis rose. The elemental witch was still wearing her silver dress and high heels. In Belkis’s hand was Sylvia’s latest staff, Chrome Tempest.

  Grinning, the dark-skinned prisma waved at the crowd. A cheer rose from the surroundings.

  Screens flickered. The boyish faerie was placed front and center.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he called, voice amplified. “Today, you bear witness as the devil, Belkis von Vallenfelt faces The Gauntlet! Will this Class III, high-ranked witch defeat a myriad of foes? Or will she meet with a grisly fate? Experience the thrill! And remember, you too can fight on this field of war!

  “Now, feast your eyes upon glorious battle!”

  The screens changed again. This time they showed scorpion-like creatures emerging from the earth. Pastel pink eyes searched the arena, augmented by the manifestation realm art, hawk eyes. Sylvia quickly found the ten phantasmal beasts rushing toward her senior sister.

  Raised stingers glinted with orange light.

  A seventy meters distant, Belkis chanted. Metal element ether was sucked from Chrome Tempest. The energy combined with runes spun out by the prisma’s inner grimoire. The first magic sank into the earth. An instant behind, her chant finished.

  The second spell was stacked on the first. An iron tower surged from beneath Belkis’s feet.

  And not a moment too soon.

  Boiling bolts streaked across the sky. T-t-t-ti-ti-t-ting. Metal rang, echoes translated to the audience by the arena’s enchantments. The bolts bit, tips piercing into the metal walls of Belkis’s tower. The prisma herself ducked, guarded by the parapet. The structure was big, three meters wide and six meters tall.

  The shower of bolts was continuous as the scorpions rushed closer.

  Unhurried, Belkis waited. The dark-skinned witch drew ether from a pair of tiny sources. An invisible veil wrapped the prisma. Barrier frame.

  Sylvia nodded in approval. No need to rush. Prepare things first then kill the enemy cleanly.

  “Lady von Vallenfelt starts steady, casting fortress of iron,” the faerie said, providing a blow-by-blow for those who weren’t experts in magic. “Fortress of iron is a high magic that sports an excellent defense. Even the penetrating attacks of the cinder sting scorpions are no match.”

  The faerie’s smile turned sly.

  “But The Gauntlet is not so simple. We have many phantasms prepared. The fight will be exciting, no matter your tactics.”

  Large scale combat was less a test of strength and more a test of endurance. Mana pooled like liquid in a bottle. Once it was gone, a mage had nothing more. Against a large number of foes, every point was precious. If Sylvia were to face a Helheim legion today, she wasn’t sure she could kill all of them. Survive? Yes. No question. Killing them, though, would demand Sylvia spend less than four mana for each foe slain.

  That wasn’t impossible. But it was difficult. Spells like arctic gale, chain lightning, and meteor blast could be highly efficient against groups. However, an intelligent enemy wouldn’t just sit there waiting to die. They would split, take cover, and fight back. All of which would generate waste.

  Belkis faced a similar challenge. She couldn’t just kill her enemy. She had to do so efficiently. Otherwise, she’d run dry.

  The shower of bolts slowed. Chittering scorpions gathered at the tower’s foot. The angry creatures struck at the metal walls, their arms spears instead of pincers. Near the bottom, the metal was smooth. Higher up, the walls were pitted. Molten spikes riddled the tower, their glowing ends drooping to dribble on the ground below.

  Quite durable, Sylvia mused. She’d have to sucker Belkis into sharing the rune sequence. She had a brand new metal elemental staff and needed a few metal element spells to go with it. Fortress of iron would fill in that hole nicely.

  No magic was invincible, of course. Since the scorpion’s stinger could pierce, eventually the fortress would crumble.

  But the tactic was sound, because the scorpions ran dry first. Bereft of their internal energies, the insectile beasts pounded at the tower. Others skittered, trying to climb the walls. In places, their feet found gaps. The phantasms lifted themselves partially, only to slide back down.

  A wiser enemy would’ve struck low as well as high. If the cinder sting scorpion had done so, they could’ve climbed straight up. In the end, beasts were naught but beasts.

  “And now it’s time for the second wave,” the faerie called. “And what have our referees sent? Ashen bats! What a vicious move!”

  Ten charcoal colored bats slipped through the roiling sky. Large, leathery wings beat, the dark-colored creatures gliding against a background of darkened fire. Sylvia sat up. For the first few seconds, it seemed that Belkis hadn’t even seen the new creatures.

  Then, with the bats halfway to the tower, the elemental witch leapt to her feet. Belkis chanted. Metal ether was sucked from her staff. Atop the tower was born a second figment, a conical roof. Walls extended upward, leaving nothing but slats through which the prisma could see and fire.

  Then the bats had arrived.

  The creatures whooshed around the tower. The phantasms shrieked, air visibly distorting. Rippling rings smashed into the tower’s top. Most of the energy reflected off the metal walls. Parts of the wave cascaded in, filling the space with chaotic destruction.

  Unable to see her sister, Sylvia’s eyes shot to a screen.

  Within, the prisma shuddered. Belkis was battered by the assault, shimmering cracks spreading through her armor’s barrier. The elemental witch held steady, chanting in the face of the assault.

  Then the air swirled. Silent boundary was attached to the prisma’s barrier frame. The pounding blasts were reduced to a weakened stir.

  Sylvia could see Belkis relax. Her lips moved, speaking words unheard. A moment later, Chrome Tempest slashed down. The sky went still. Wind lost all weight. With nothing left to carry them, the winged phantasms plunged.

  Huh? Sylvia’s eyes gleamed. What spell was that?

  “Belkis casts empty air, driving her foes into the earth,” the faerie declared in answer. “But this is only a temporary – ”

  Boom!

  A pyre exploded from the arena’s surface, the shock amplified for the audience. A brilliant jet of magma shot into the air before raining down in liquid fire. Bats shrieked. Scorpions chittered. The closest creatures had been blown to chunks. The rest were seared by molten rain, heated rock burning through wing and carapace alike.

  Boom! Boom!

  With steady percussion, two more pyres ripped through the dirt. Fleeing beasts were torn to shreds. Others died to fire, liquid stone clinging to their flesh. Twenty phantasms were instantly reduced to a ragged two. At the tower’s foot, magma pooled, creating a short-lived moat.

  “Magma Surge! Belkis von Vallenfelt first lures her enemies in, then she completes a massacre,” the faerie cried. “How exciting. It seems our resident knight will be left on the bench.”

  The screens flickered, showing a demon in gilded, plate armor. He waited patiently in a high booth, face and body hidden behind thick metal.

  “Now we enter the second phase of The Gauntlet,” the boyish faerie said. “Which brings with it four stronger phantasms while the other twenty-five must come from the referees’ prior choice. With the cinder sting scorpions and the ashen bats so easily defeated, the referees will need to consider carefully. They must bring something that will end Lady von Vallenfelt’s current tactic.”

  It didn’t take long to find out. A hundred meters away, towering giants of stone emerged from the earth. The prior creatures had been C-I/High. The golems were a full class stronger. The first of these constructs reached down, grasping hunks of stone.

  Then the golems flung their boulders at the distant fortress.

  C-clung.

  The first two struck, smashing into the rounded tower. The damaged structure dented, the pitted holes left by the cinder sting scorpions tearing open to reveal a hollow interior. Another pair of rocks hung in the sky, tracing an arc of destructive force.

  The air shimmered.

  Clu-clung.

  Before the mighty blows could land, a second tower wrapped the first. The leading boulder smashed into this new structure, metal bending without the same weakness. The last crashed into the conical roof, driving into it a great dent.

  “Boo! Have some courage and fight!” Bai Meng’s heckles were barely heard over the thunderous impact.

  Tch! Now she had to make a fool of herself and shout back. Sylvia sat up, raised a fist then roared. “Murder them all!”

  Chrome Tempest poked through a slat. Electricity cascaded down the metal wrapped haft, faint sparks jumping to the tower walls surrounding.

  Bang!

  Lightning ripped across the arena, crashing to the stone chest of a golem. The beast staggered. Bang! A second lance followed mere moments after. The construct crumbled, its artificial core pierced right through.

  Clu-cl-clung.

  The other golems continued their assault. Three boulders struck. Two high. One low. The metal roof tore, opening a small gap.

  “Belkis von Vallenfelt snipes a golem with lightning lance!” the faerie called out. “In a different scenario this might work, but right now I fear she won’t kill them fast enough.”

  Bang! Another flash of light. A golem staggered. Boulders hit, weakening walls. The gap in the roof tore wider.

  Then a fourth wave of phantasms was unleashed. Twenty-five beasts surged at once. Ten cinder sting scorpions rushed along the ground, molten bolts spraying through the air. Fifteen ashen bats followed. These were released in groups of five, each a dozen seconds after the other.

  “Just give up and die!” Bai Meng screamed.

  “You can do it!” Sylvia roared in retort.

  The screen showed Belkis’s tense expression. Molten eyes narrowed. Daringly, the elemental witch fired another lance. Bang! The second golem crumbled.

  C-clung.

  Boulders smashed into the tower. The rent in the ceiling was torn wide open. The bottom was bashed in so heavily, the outer layer began to distort just like the first. Even without the golems, the cinder sting scorpions would tear right through it.

  Sylvia imagined her own tactics. The silver-haired witch would’ve been in the air since the beginning. An elemental ward to stifle the cinder sting scorpions. Silent boundary to protect against the bats. Aqua shell and a glacial scale for defense. With that much magical weight, her broom would be a bit sluggish. Still, she’d be mobile enough to avoid most of the attacks.

  For offense, she’d wind scythe. The arena was narrow. As long as Sylvia put a handful into the air, she could clean up the entire swarm in a few moments.

  Then again, Sylvia’s level was nearly twice that of Belkis. In fact, the prisma was still fifty levels lower than her peak before transmigration.

  “Will Lady von Vallenfelt abandon her tower? No! She dives into the hollow below!”

  With the swarm rushing toward her, Belkis summoned another layer around the tower’s bottom. Then the elemental witch opened a hatch and dove into the darkened space below.

  “Coward,” Bai Meng screamed.

  Sylvia’s own voice roared back. “Good move! Run those dumb phantasms out of mana!”

  Clung. C-clung. Clung. Clung.

  Without Belkis to snipe back, the two golems continued to pound the tower. The top was ripped clean off, the figment dissolving into ether. The outer layer bent then cracked. Soon it too was on the edge of vanishing. The stacked towers beneath were so weak they wouldn’t stand long after.

  In the dark space, Belkis chanted. Frowning, Sylvia tried to deduce the spell. Wait, the prisma wasn’t casting a spell. She was priming her inner grimoire.

  C-clung.

  The third layer of the tower shattered into motes. Only two, twisted surfaces remained. Bats circled, leaving fogging trails in their wake. Scorpions chittered. A few tried to crawl in through the cracks, but the torn gaps in the metal did not align.

  The screen showed Belkis hovering on her broom. A catalyst circle appeared beside her. Sylvia’s eyes narrowed. Then she smirked. Sky magic. How cunning. The asteri sank back into her seat.

  Clung!

  The second layer shattered, leaving only the first. Thin sheets of water ether were filtered from the burning world. A scorpion crawled in through the gap.

  The fortress dissolved with Belkis’s intent. The elemental witch shot through the ethereal mist, molten eyes whipping across her foes.

  Ether flowed. Wind from the staff. Fire from Belkis’s palace. Water, augmented by pure mana. The streams were gathered by the circle, then catalyzed into the element sky. Chrome Tempest crackled with terrible power.

  Ba~raa~raa~aack!

  The heavens flashed. Lightning ripped the world apart, rolling thunder making half the audience jump. A stream of jagged, blue light ripped around the arena, twisting and turning until it looked like a crackling net.

  Eleven bats plummeted, holes punched through their chest. Five scorpions were scoured. Two golems staggered, damaged by the streaking bolt.

  Yet enemies remained.

  Chain lightning required the caster to mentally tag each target. The prisma lacked starlight eyes, and wit was her weakest magical attribute. In the brief, rushed period, some of the beasts had been missed.

  “In one brilliant flash, Belkis von Vallenfelt takes command of the sky!” the faerie cried. “Chain lighting is truly the reaper of war. This right here, folks, is why you never let a mage chant. Not that it’s so easy to stop them if they’re hiding behind a fortress of iron.”

  The elemental witch accelerated. Four bats gave chase, screaming as Belkis picked up speed. The prisma jinked, showing off her incredible skill. Two shots went wide. The others hit, the first shattering Belkis’s armored barrier. The second left the prisma coughing up blood, on the edge of losing control.

  Then Belkis outran the beasts. The witch’s broom, Raven Wing, was faster than the bats. Sylvia’s glee at her sister escape was suddenly replaced by fury. Donuts! Sylvia angrily slapped her thigh. Belkis should’ve been riding a Stella Iecit! A perfect marketing moment lost forever.

  Below, the golems recovered their footing. Fiery light gathered in their eye.

  Bang!

  Skimming around the arena’s edge, Belkis struck a rocky giant with a lightning lance. Stone crumbled into broken shards. The final golem turned its head, a ray of fire ripping across the arena.

  The witch dived low, golden-brown hair fluttering behind her. The beam chased, sweeping through the sky. Though Belkis was fast, at such a distance the golem’s head only had to turn slightly. The streak of fire ripped across the witch. At the last moment, Belkis dodged, her flight twisting into a corkscrew.

  A brief line of black ripped across the prisma’s metallic dress. The slash was too short to do appreciable damage.

  The bats closed, using the corners cut by Belkis’s wide flight. The elemental witch pointed Chrome Tempest in their direction. A meteor streaked, blasting two charcoal bats into smoldering chunks of meat. Slewing, the prisma evaded the others.

  Electricity crackled. Bang! Bang! The final golem met its end, the restored rock armor blasted apart first then core pierced second.

  “What incredible flying skill. I think I speak for everyone here, what a shame Lady von Vallenfelt hid behind those iron walls for so long,” the faerie declared, shaking his head in lament. “With only two bats left, there is no question we are approaching the end of this battle.”

  Then the faerie’s lips quirked.

  “Which is why we always save the best for last!”

  It took less than a minute for Belkis to clear the remaining monsters. Knowing what was coming, the prisma returned to the arena’s center. Her dress shimmered, a new barrier draping over her beautiful form.

  The burning sky swirled.

  A drake ripped through the hole that had been opened in the heavens.

  “For her final foe, Belkis must face her equal, a Class III, high-rank flame drake!” the faerie shouted, trying to drive the crowd toward a climax.

  The dragon roared. Belkis didn’t hesitate, accelerating away from the beast. Impossible. The drake was plunging from twice the prisma’s height, building speed thanks to gravity. Belkis had no chance to escape.

  Fire gathered in the drake’s maw. The phantasm spat two burning bullets.

  The elemental witch jinked, fire exploding to her right. The second shot burst, center left. The shock threw Belkis into a flat spin. The drake was on her in a flash. The beast’s rear claws trailed, talons ready to snatch the dark-skinned witch.

  Belkis plunged, suddenly abandoning all lift. A talon scraped against her barrier, shattering it like glass. The prisma was thrown into a spin. The flame drake streaked past, giant wings beating to reverse its great inertia.

  Belkis recovered first. Chrome Tempest slashed through the air, a chain of steel links shooting from the tip. There was no chance to dodge. The length whipped around the drake, sweeping about a rear claw, the right wing, and the beast’s neck. The chains tightened, overlapping lengths interlinking.

  The phantasm’s turn transformed into a tumble. The drake spun through the air before crashing into the ground at the far end of the arena.

  Straining against its bonds, the beast tried to lift its head. Belkis swept around it, an incantation on her lips.

  Grave maw.

  Three stone teeth tore through the earth. Like the jaws of a massive beast, they ripped into the drake, scales and meaty flesh giving way. The beast roared, struggling against the chain. Fire sprayed into the sky, forcing Belkis back.

  Sylvia shook her head. It was over. Bound and grounded, the drake had no way to win. Though the faerie had said the flame drake Belkis’s equal, that claim was superficial to the point of being false. Demons had skills, arts, equipment, and intelligence. They were far more dangerous than beasts.

  Lighting flashed, tearing through the wounds cut into the drake’s chest. The Gauntlet was done.

  -oOo-

  Grimoire

  Fortress of Iron

  Runes: 135, 40 to 120 a room

  Mana: 250 to 750, 100 to 900 a room; 25%

  Hp: 500 + Mana x 5 for each room

  Defense: 350 to 850

  Resistance: 25% DR, 5% to 20% SR

  Duration: 1 to 3 hours

  Fortress of iron is a metal element spell used to raise iron fortifications. Fortress of iron consists of two parts: the rooms and the foundation. The foundation of this spell must be set on stable ground. Any room built after must be erected on the foundation, or atop other rooms where applicable. It takes one to three seconds for each room to fully take form.

  Up to five rooms may be added to the foundation. Note that while multiple foundations can be stacked into the same area, each room can only be attached to a single foundation.

  The amount of energy placed into the foundation determines the hardness of the structure, along with the duration of the fortress. The energy placed in each room determines that room’s size and durability. By size, rooms default to a scale of roughly 3x3x3 meters. When mana expenditure is maximized, this scales up to 9x9x9 meters. The thickness of the walls also scales with the energy, granting the fortress a degree of resistance to smaller scaled attacks.

  Rooms are destroyed independent of one another.

  While the 135 rune structure for fortress of iron’s base is strictly defined, rooms are modular. There are many runic sequences defining rooms of various complexities. The versatility is enhanced by the mage’s intent, which lets the rooms be altered further.

  Steel Shackle

  Runes: 74

  Mana: 100 to 300; 33%

  Hp: 100 to 200

  Defense: 700 to 1100

  Duration: 15 seconds, 1 hour

  Steel shackle is an advanced, metal element magic that creates an animated chain that will wrap and bind the target. During the first 15 seconds, this chain is animated allowing it to fly at 50 meters per second and move with the smooth grace of a snake. When it coils around an object it can interlink, pulling tighter like ratchet. However, once the first duration has ended, it loses its animation existing only as a physical object for the remaining hour.

  In the first phase, the chain possesses strength determined by the amount of mana placed in the spell. This is roughly comparable to a Strength: Force attribute of 300% to 700%. Awakened demons might be able to overpower the chain. Alas, unless they can stop the chain with their ki, the parts not held will still be free to move and wrap around.

  The amount of mana used when casting steel shackle likewise determines the maximum length of the chain, which ranges from 10 to 30 meters. The caster, however, can freely shrink the chain to a size as short as ten centimeters. Further, they may adjust the size at any point during the animation period. This isn’t instant and requires roughly 3 seconds to go from the smallest size to the largest.

  Steel shackle isn’t an attack and possesses no particular power to crush an opponent. Nevertheless, it can strangle and constrict weak enemies as though possessing an attack power of 60 to 140 depending on the mana used. This is only possible during the animation period.

  Magma Surge

  Runes: 83

  Mana: 100 to 600; 20%

  Attack:

  * 500 to 2000 (explosion)

  * 350 to 1350 (rain)

  * 250 (lava pool)

  Penetration: 200 pierce, 75% multiplier; 25% DRR

  Range: 50 meters * Mysticism

  Area:

  * Blast: 1.5 to 3.7 meter radius

  * Rain: 3.0 to 7.4 meter radius

  Magma surge is an advanced, metal element attack magic. This spell consists of three parts. First, is the core blast or plume. This explodes from the ground with sudden fury, rising in a magnificent pyre to twice the height of the rain’s area of effect. Creatures caught in this face the greatest destructive force, and may be physically thrown a fair distance.

  Second, is the fiery rain that follows briefly after. Those within will take searing damage as globs of lava that fall down. Note, should a creature be caught in both the rain and the plume, there will be little additional destructive effect.

  Last is the lava itself, which will last for up to ten seconds. Creatures that remain on or near this surface will take steady damage from the destructive heat. Worse, enemies caught in the plume or the rain may be subject to this heated burn for several seconds even if they escape, depending on how thoroughly they were drenched.

  Unlike earth spike and grave maw, magma surge can be set up to ten meters deep into the earth. This makes it much harder to detect before eruption.

  Empty Air

  Runes: 38

  Mana: 65 to 600; 33%

  Radius: 15 to 45 meters

  Range: 10 meters x Mysticism

  Duration: 10 seconds

  A simple, wind element anti-flight spell. Empty air causes the wind or air to fail to interact properly with wings or other flight surfaces. In simple terms, the flying creature will feel as though the air suddenly ceased to exist. This spell only interrupts physical forms of flight. Supernatural flight may or may not be affected.

  Because all creatures contain ki, high-level phantasms may be able to resist the effect. In practical terms, a creature can be considered to suffer a -200% to their Strength: Force when trying to fly in the area.

  Brooms are partially affected by empty air, losing a portion of their lift and mobility.

  Sylvia’s Notes: I was initially interested in this spell, but realized it’s kind of cruddy.