In this world, Magic is Everything. All people, all races, are granted with the power to perform mystical and magical feats via grimories, mystical tomes granted to each and every child on their 15th birthday. Those blessed by the mana can have their names written down in legend.
Shattered Grimoires is the work of the mind(s) of Ardere & Shattered Grimoire's staff. All characters and content are copyright their creators, and may not be replicated without their creators' permission. Black Clover is owned by Yuki Tabata and published by Viz Shonen Jump. All images belong to their original owners. The theme you are currently viewing was made by Eliza of ElizaCodes exclusively for Shattered Grimoires.
I don't know where the future[break][break] will take us,[break][break] But we will blaze it together.[break][break]
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[attr="class","ardereescroll"]Music Begins[break][break]The Crimson King was overwhelmed by blades at such a close range that he crumbled into the ground. Blood splattered across the ground beneath him as he filled it with his form. To his allies the Crimson Lion Captain appeared to be utterly crushed, but hope had not died yet. There was now a massive gash across his chest which if he had not been reinforced with Archmage level strength, he'd have been chopped in half. He had taken part of the hit on purpose, while some of the damage was mitigated via his spell, he needed the injury. As he stood up, there was a surge of power around him. This was the Apex of his special ability; Vengeance. I think I understand now. Ardere now held the sword affixed to his hip, the blade that waited and hungered since they stepped foot into the hellish tower. Let me give you what you want Aamon. Screaming at the top of his lungs, the Crimson King draped in white and stained in red now channeled all of his power into this blade as it too was engulfed in pale, blinding flames. I can't beat you with strength. Ojisan....lend me your power. In this blade as it was overtaken by his Archmage spell: God Killer now held all of the skill passed down the Kasai line for generations. Standing there the Lord of his Clan, the Apex of his squad, a Champion of Humanity he drew back his blade. [break][break] While he could not sustain Amaterasu's Blessing and God Killer together, this Mana Zone granted him the ability to utilize both simultaneously. He even further increased his magical power by bringing out Siegfried's Arsenal, the blades forming to the one he now held in his grip. This was true magical strength, truly blinding infinite mana. Far too much power for one human to wield was now surging through his veins pulsating his muscles, but he did not falter. Even if his body crumbled to pieces after this; he'd win. In this single strike he'd use the God Killer for its intended purpose, to destroy powerful entities like Aamon. Even with his flaws and evil, he was the strongest opponent Ardere ever had the honor of facing. Behind him the blazing spirits of Clover trailed behind his blade, as if they'd been waiting in his mana zone for this exact moment. Blood dripped down his cheeks and across his chest. His body should be beaten and battered but it wasn't, instead he leaped forward with this sword strike truly frightening. The look in his eyes could pierce even a God's soul. Do you see them Aamon? The hundreds and thousands behind me? How could you ever dream of beating me when you only wield the strength of one man--I have the entire Kingdom behind me! He could feel all of them standing behind him. Silas. Lysander. His father. Wolfe. Nero. Hanzo. The entire Crimson Lion Squad. His family. The Magic Knights. Salamander. Varisse. They were all behind him in this strike. The Tower shook and trembled as a real Champion's power filled it. At the last moment, if Aamon tried to dodge he would extend the sword at 125 meters per second, making him unable to dodge its strike. [break][break] Time slowed down as Ardere soared through the air. It did not matter how fast he could swing this sword, for every ounce of will he had left in his body was now in this blade. Memories flooded through his mind, the days he had spent training and fighting to get strong. Everything had come down to this. Clover was not perfect but it was his home. He had to protect it. Flaming tears dripped down his cheeks as he flew towards his ultimate enemy. This cycle of pain and suffering had to end. He hated himself for letting the people he loved die, but that didn't matter anymore. He'd found a new way to live and a way to protect the people he cared for. For once, he could be the hero without having to lose others. For once he could go home and hug his mother, telling her he'd won with no strings attached. He could finally have one real victory.
-Amaterasu's Blessing/Dive sustained[break][break] Name of Spell: King's Flame: God Killer[break] Elemental Type: Fire[break] Rank & Spell Type: Archmage - Attack Creation[break] Range & Speed: 300 m | 125 m/s[break] Mana Cost: 64 (32)[break] Stats Effected: +16 Power[break] Applicable Perks: Battle Knight, Mana Conservationist[break] Description: Ardere creates a katana in his hands out of pure flames. Generally the katana is of the standard length of a meter, but the user can extend that katana to a length of 300 meters at a speed of 125 m/s. This can be used for near instant piercing attacks, or even to just cut gargantuan and titanic sized enemies into pieces. The flames from this blade are so intense that their color has changed to white. A direct hit from this sword without the protection of mana skin will instantly kill you. If you manage to survive, any limbs it cuts off just turn to ash. This sword has the ability to turn a building into a pile of rubble and ash in a matter of seconds.[break] [break][break]Name of Spell: Siegfried's Arsenal Elemental Type: Fire[break] Rank & Spell Type: Grand | Attack Creation[break] Range & Speed: 80 m area| 75 m/s[break] Mana Cost: 40 (20)[break] Stats Effected: +22 Power[break] Applicable Perks: Mana Conservationist, Battle Knight, Signature Spell.[break] Description: This is Ardere's most often used spell, and one he learned from his father (It being a mirror of his father's signature spell). It has gotten stronger as he has, and this is the final version of this spell. He creates a massive sword out of flame. Being 2 meters in length it is long enough to match his own height but not too large to be awkward when wielding. The user can grab this sword, but they can also manipulate it in an 80 meter area, being 40 m radially around them-self. They can manipulate it to stab or slash or twirl, anything the user can think of. For every 50 control the user has, they can make an extra sword. These swords are powerful enough to cleave through stone and metal like it was butter, and limbs are just the same. These spells do have the ability to kill.
Last Edit: Feb 16, 2022 19:32:06 GMT -5 by Ardere✧
Post by Charles Constantine✾ on Feb 10, 2022 17:37:22 GMT -5
[NOSPACES]
"I'm no g e n i u s, I'm just a fool who keeps going forward."
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total word count 19,847
[attr="class","glentext"]
Charles was left vulnerable, as he was still experiencing the effects of Spirit Drain and Spirit Lock he had no real way of using any of his spells, at least the ones that would be useful. His entire was vulnerable and at this point, he just wanted to watch the battle from afar while he recovered. It seemed like the Archdaemon had lost his cool upon the realization that he was going to be defeated soon, it was only a matter of time, and the only thing that the gigantic man was stopping the inevitable. He could sense how Aamon was losing his sanity over the thought of mere mortals defeating him. It was quite ironic and even quite poetic since he was the one that called them to their tower in the first place. [break][break] By the looks of it, Aamon had unleashed a powerful attack and he was the main target of it. Before Griswold decided to move toward him he extended his hand and told the man to stop. "I appreciate it, Griswold... But, I can take it. I'm not dumb enough to leave myself on the open without any sort of backup plan or counter-measures." The silver mage had deliberately left himself open and vulnerable to any attacks from Aamon because a part of him wanted to see if the daemon would have the nerve to do it, a test of sorts. The attack was indeed powerful and it would clearly deal a lot of damage to him if he didn't dodge it, unfortunately, he was unable to dodge it or block it with his magic. However, something he could do without any problems was to phase through it. Charles let out a sigh of slight annoyance, which could lead to believe he was straight out suicidal, but he just found Aamon's attempt to attack him with some annoyance and a little amusement. A part of him preferred not to do move any muscle if he could, but he had to come and be an absolute pain in the ass for him.
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The ring he held on his index finger began to glow and used his relic's innate ability, covering his entire body in smoke and turning it completely invisible. Additionally, he used the special ability of the element of his relic, Permeation, and turned his entire body intangible. Even if he couldn't physically dodge the Aamon's attack, the powerful magic attack that was sent to him would just phase through like he wasn't there. After a few seconds passed, Charles reappeared without a single injury and as nothing had happened. He had disappeared and reappeared right nothing. If he didn't know about his relic's ability he would've surely been more careful from the start, but he knew that there was no need to hide until he recovered. This event gave him an insight into the type of person that Aamon was and it showed how desperate he was to win that he attacked a weakened opponent. "And here I thought you were smarter... Well, you proved one thing, you're desperate and you're going to get defeated really soon... You're just delaying the inevitable and embarrassing yourself in the progress." He was certain of that, [break]
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POW 090
DUR 141
SEN 010
STA 080
CON 080
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MANA SKIN
HEALTH
MANA REGEN
MANA POOL
archmage
grand
55 IC // 60 OOC
220/220
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Combat Summary
[break]TL;DR Magic Knight Mantle, Seer's Fate, Forgotten Heirloom [break][break] Suffering Spirit Drain and Spirit Lock effects. Charles has used the Permeation boon and has gone entirety intangible, phasing through Aamon's attack.
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Name of the Ability Hidden Speed [break] Type & Uses: Flow ¦ 3 (uses) ¦ 32 (overheating) [break] Rank & Specialization: Junior ¦ Physical Reinforcement ¦ Sensory [break] Mana Cost: 8 ¦ 4 [break] Range & Speed: 10m aoe ¦ 10 m/s [break] Stats Affected: 5 m/s [break] Description:
The bearer need only want to vanish for this ability to take effect. When active what can only be described as a completely translucent mist or smoke only noticeable by the bearer of the ring that seems to creep up over their body as if giving them a second skin as it does so this seems to make them invisible to the naked eye however those with at least 20 sensory would still be able to feel the mana via sensory or movements via the use of ki tier 1. In addition to this while this ability is active the bearer gains an additional 5 m/s to their speed regardless of if they are sensed or the cloaking is seen through.
The attack was not as successful as he would have liked, Aamon snarled as Griswold took Charles and tossed him out of the way to hopefully stop him from being completely overwhelmed. Which, in practice…was understandably noble, but after the toss Charles showed disdain, which could almost be seen as if the Black Bull mage was either ungrateful or suicidal…but Charles was making plays to see if he could still attract the attention of Ashfrod’s daemonic father. Charles was quick to aggravate Aamon, not only participating but poking the archdaemon with a verbal sword that would be like a stiletto being driven into the back of Champion of Daemons. Of course Griswold, who took the damage up front, and Cyrus who dug deep to continue fighting anchored himself as the attacks cut into the mages that were left standing. The power of an archdaemon was nothing to scoff at as Aamon heard the words of Cyrus, and felt the determination of Griswold at his back. A cold chill was sent down the spine of Aamon as he roared in return to Cyrus’s words and he was now a caged beast as his aura struggled. Ardere however, kept up with the daemon and the attacks of the Crimson King rocked the daemon, now losing ground as he was further provoked by Ardere as he called out, asking Aamon if he saw the people standing behind him, the metaphorical gesture and the follow up on attacks, further depleting the magical power of both the Crimson King and Aamon, the archdaemon started to shrink in stature, like the ebbing of a great tide Aamon stepped forward and went to slug Ardere. His power was greatly reduced as he was moving at a speed of 25 m/s and was punching with a grand power.
To the Royal Knights watching, it could now be seen, the visage of Aamon…once a horrific looking creature, was starting to shed…looking more and more like an elf as the seconds ticked down. Aamon followed up with his attack, leading into a high knee at the same speed as he huffed and puffed. Wounds that covered his body spilled blood now as the blood flowed from his mouth and facial wounds…The daemon was slowly becoming mortal. ”I…just wanted to protect my family…my kingdom…you…CRIMSON KING….YOU ROYAL KNIGHTS WILL NOT FALTER MY ADVANCE!” the movement was to perform a devastating superman punch towards Ardere with hopes of shattering his defenses.
I don't know where the future[break][break] will take us,[break][break] But we will blaze it together.[break][break]
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[attr="class","ardereescroll"]Time froze and the world shook with the vigor of Ragnarok--yet Aamon still stood. Before him was a beaten and battered King with no mana to call upon, all spells deactivated to prevent him from fainting. All that remained was his rite; the remnants of his Champion's Mark. Pale blazing strength shimmered across his form until the Lion himself was all that was left of a wondrous power--he wasn't done yet. [break][break] Blocking the slug from Aamon, Ardere's sword was knocked out of his hands as the Titan of a man slid back across the ground. Looking up to his enemy he watched as blue armor fell to the ground in chunks to reveal the man, no; the Elf underneath. He had forgotten underneath all of that strength and rage was someone who had once been a creature of this plane. He'd been stripped of what made him an Elf, stripped of his soul. Nonetheless, the Crimson King had to keep fighting. He had to. You think I need spells to beat you? Do you think I need a weapon? I've never needed anything to be a warrior but myself. Ripping off his cloak, he tossed the tattered bits into the Arena. Before I was the Crimson King. Before I was Captain. Before I met Salamander--I was nothing. I was not blessed by mana like you elves. I was no experiment. Everything I've ever had; I've fought for. Blood continued to drip down his brow and spilled onto the floor, but he was not afraid. He stood in front of a god-like Daemon with essentially no mana left to utilize, yet he felt no fear. Ardere let out a guttural scream as the white visage still raged across him. Bursting forth with an intense speed, he aimed to attack his enemy. [break][break] Aamon was coming with a powerful punch that would likely kill Ardere if he let it land, hence he drew upon every ounce of martial arts knowledge he'd learned all of these years. All of the opponents he'd fought until now, all of the mentors who had taught him now converged into this fight. I don't need to call upon the fire to kill you. I am the fire. I've always been the fire. Sliding in to the Superman punch Aamon threw, the Lion aimed to out-speed and outmaneuver his enemy by shifting his stance and gliding by the punch. Wrapping his arm around the Daemon's punch, he used his other arm to stab two fingers into his joints and paralyze his arm for a short time. This stun would ideally allow him to then follow up with a knee straight into the Elf's solar plexus, then with a snap he'd attempt to break the Elf's arm and send him into the wind with massive injuries to boot. [break][break] Every move was instinct now. There was no pre-planning involved. All of his human and warrior instincts were called upon to defeat this Archdaemon. Instincts were all that was left of the Crimson King and they were all he required to unleash a vicious fury unto the ultimate opponent before him. I won't let you harm my people!
Spell Stuff:[break] -All spells deactivated[break] Speed: 50 m/s (Headstart/Momentum) [break] Strength: Grand to Archmage (Mark of the Champion still active) [break] Other active perks: Close Combat Expert
Last Edit: Feb 16, 2022 19:34:40 GMT -5 by Ardere✧
[attr=class,cyrustext]It was coming down to the wire, that much was clear to Cyrus. Gris moved to get Charles out of the way of Aamon's spell, though the silver mage voiced his thanks and noted that he had a plan prepared already to deal with such a possibility. The fearsome storm of spells that had previously dominated the arena were few and far between now, as Ardere and Aamon both seemed spent of their energy. Now they did nothing but exchange physical strikes, though even they packed far more power than most mages could ever hope to survive.
Aamon's terrifying visage was starting to falter; at times, he could see the man that had become the wicked archdaemon. And despite the roar of protest at his earlier taunting, Cyrus could tell that his might was fading fast. But he had no idea how long the power Ardere had been given would last; a single misstep would still be enough to lose them all the ground that they had gained.
But even as Aamon grew weaker, Cyrus felt quite the opposite. His strength was returning; soon, very soon, he would be back to his full strength. And it would be in that moment that he would play his part in drawing this contest to a close.
A familiar voice echoed in his mind, as Hama finally reappeared. With his spirit lock ending soon, he could finally speak to her once again. "Everyone looks like hammered shit." She observed helpfully, watching the brutal slugfest between the Captain and their opponent through her partner's eyes. Cyrus merely grunted in response outwardly, wanting to conserve as much energy as he could for his next spell. "Welcome back, Hama. Are you ready to end this?" He asked her through their connection, but he already knew that she was. As if to confirm his prediction she laughed, and that was all that he needed to hear.
To Aamon's last statement, Cyrus' brow furrowed. "No." He said, not bothering to raise his voice. He didn't care if the archdaemon heard or not. And with he and Hama more separated now, he could be a bit more of himself as he spoke. "Maybe once, all you wanted was to protect what was dear to you. The people you loved. But that was long ago, and you are not that person anymore. No matter who hides under that filth you call armor, it is not the man you once were. And if it were... then you would know why it is that we will stop you. Whatever it takes."
[attr="class,cyrusstats]Stats & Information
WC: 0429 | TWC: 16867
[attr="class,cyrusstats]
Mana Skin
12/24
Health
18/18
Mana
455/455
Movement Speed
05
Damage Taken
00
Healing Recieved
00
Mana Used
00
Mana Regen
75
[attr="class,cyrusstats] Combat Notes Final turn of Spirit Lock
Items On Hand Magic Knight's Mantle Scorpion's Eclipse Strength of a Nation Puppeteer of the Current
Taking on the full brunt of the hit, letting the whole thing was over him as he could only brace himself and wait for it to be over, Griswold internally lamented the lack of more defensive means similar to what Cyrus had been capable of. Understanding full well that in this world, one really only got to excel at one thing as spreading yourself over various avenues meant spreading oneself too thin in the process, the elf believed that the path he had been on was the right one for him. He could not imagine himself being the kind of person that would sit in the back while empowering others, using shields to protect them from harm or even healing them so they could get back into the fight. His place was on the battlefield, fighting in the front and doing whatever he could to defeat his enemies in that fashion.
It was for that same reason that it stung to be relatively useless, and having been relatively useless for the duration of this entire undertaking. With the attack he had just taken included, Griswold could not imagine a day where he had taken more of a beating than he had today, which just went to show how important it had been for him to train his mana skin as much as he had. It also proved that his healing magic, while being entirely personal and bound to spells that imbued his body with greater physical skill, were very useful and the reason why he had been able to make it this far. There was no doubt in his mind that most other people would not be as energetic and healthy as he was after being the focus of such savage beatings. But he was not the only one that had been beaten quite a bit, as there were those who had it far worse.
Looking at Aamon and Ardere as they were beating on one another, it was not that hard to see who had been getting the upper hand in this whole thing. Interestingly enough, Aamon was starting to gradually look a lot more like an elf, which must have been his original form according to the vision he had lived through, the memories at least three of them had been forced into seeing. With the two shouting at one another, Griswold heard how the demon brought up how he was trying to protect his family and his kingdom, a thing of which he had a rather weird way of showing. Because if these people here had been the elves from his kingdom, just like how his wife and son had been here, that meant that he hadn’t exactly been treating them all that well. Hell, one of his cronies had killed some of the spectators for no reason other than trying to help.
In a way, it was funny how people like that were always acting high and mighty, believing themselves to be standing at the absolute pinnacle of everything, only to start making excuses once the tables turned. In any other situation, Griswold might have considered what the man had said to them, believing that he might very well have meant it, but his actions reflected something else entirely. With Ashford being as good as gone after standing up to his father, with his wife Varisse choked and her neck snapped by his own hands and likely being the reason why reinforcement had never come back when their kingdom had been swept away by demons. Considering all of these things for what they were, there wasn’t a chance in hell that they were going to be going easy on the demon lord now after the gruelling things he had done right in front of them.
Voicing things way better than he ever would have been able to himself, Cyrus spoke out, showing that he was still not exactly calm as he let various insults slip through towards the demon. But it was to be expected, as they had all seen the horrible things he had done here. Still reeling a bit from taking the hit that hadn’t exactly been intended for him, he shrugged it off as he thought about how all of this was going to be ending soon. With Cyrus’s spirit showing back up, Griswold imagined that this meant that he was ready to get back into it once the need for it arose. And while his own mana had more or less been restored for the most part, right now, he did not really see any point in joining in on the fight. With Aamon weakening more and more with every blow he took, he was still stronger than Griswold was, meaning him rushing in to continue fighting up close would just make him into a liability.
Clenching his fists as his arms were crossed over his chest, the black mage was gritting his teeth in disgust of his own weakness. Once all of this was over, he already knew that he was going to be leaving the country for a while to train. Making a mental list of highly inhospitable locations such as the volcano and the shadow regions, his eyes remained on the fight that was reaching a conclusion in front of them. Because for as annoyed as he was with himself, once the situation called for it, he was going to dash right back into the fray.
With the others out of the way, Aamon focused on the real threat here, the Royal Knight captain, the Crimson King Ardere had his sword knocked away and then as the two were beginning to fight he heard Cyrus speak, but could not focus on the words of that half elf…he could not…he could not begin to focus on anything other than this fight. A smile crept up on his face as he took a blow that knocked something loose, but when his arm was grasped and his joints dug into, he snapped back to reality with the opponent that was his current threat. He felt his body betray him and he looked down at the wound as Ardere prepared his knee attack to the solar plexus, however Aamon let the attack on his arm continue, feeling the strain as he blocked the knee with a damned hammer punch down onto the kneecap of Ardere. It was in defense and with the lack of distance between the two of them it was sure to hit, dealing grand damage as his strength was for sure waning at this point. He breathed in heavily as his left arm was left broken, but the archdaemon worked through the pain as he went to deliver his own kick to the same leg that was just brought up to knee him. ”You ALL will bear witness to my greatest victory today. Crimson King, let us end this farce.” He said as he spat up blood, he did not lead them all to believe it, but something was drastically wrong now and in his own head he could feel the grasp of the devils being released. With that though, his power was fading and the tower…the tower was starting to break and all Aamon could do was…laugh at it all.
Cyrus, Griswold…
The sound of footsteps echoed in the arena, past the sounds of fighting, but for Ardere and Aamon…they were nearly silent, but as for Cyrus and Griswold…it would seem there was ONE final challenge. This time, as Aamon was seeming to weaken, the aura of his daemonic presence was creating its own entity. Something that would be an ill omen for the future excursions of the Royal Knights, and something that if put into the official report…would make the skin of any reader crawl. That was when a new hellish creature stepped forward to the two recovering mages. Its visage was not that of Aamon, but of a creature enveloped in the darkness itself. As the tower was starting to fall it was like the battlefields were now segmented.
’It seems that Aamon failed after all…typical of the man who we found to be weak enough to exploit and use as a sacrifice for power. Now I cannot let any of you live to tell the story of course so be quiet and die in piece.” The creature spoke in a cruel turn, enough to absolutely instill fear and anger into any that heard it, but seeing the sword of Ashford in Cyrus’s hands it attacked the Golden Dawn mage first, lunging at him with a speed of 30 m/s in an attempt to strike at him using its wicked looking claws for Grand Damage. If gris would try to intervene then the shadow creature would extend its appendage out towards Griswold and let out a deathly scream as tendrils fly out towards Griswold in an attempt to strike him.
[attr=class,cyrustext]As the battle seemed to be coming to an end, so too did the wicked tower's stability; cracks began to form as the master of the arena was pushed harder and harder, with rubble falling down around them like fence posts being planted in the ground. But even over the fearsome fight that still raged between the Crimson Lion Captain and the archdaemon, and even over the sound of the building collapsing, Cyrus and Hama both could hear footsteps resound throughout the room.
Cyrus turned to face the newcomer; a figure shrouded in darkness, familiar in the sense of dread it gave off to the foe they had been fighting but even more intense. It spoke of Aamon's evident failure, voice dripping with malice strong enough to melt steel. But its words were certainly enlightening; some sort of puppetmaster for this whole performance, if its words were true. The new enemy noted that it would need to silence them, or else risk its plans falling apart like the very battlefield around them.
And at just a glance to the sword in Cyrus' hand, it picked him as the first to be eliminated.
Cyrus, however, was ready. His Spirit Lock was lifted. Hama was back. And he was fully stocked on mana. Whoever or whatever this foe is was certainly powerful; he could tell right away. But he was back in top form. Hama smirked. "He should have gotten here a little earlier." She observed, speaking to Cyrus through their connection.
As his assailant rushed towards Cyrus, his grimoire shined with an intensity that the others present would have only witnessed once before; when he had demonstrated his Elemental Incarnate golem, Nidhogg, to them back when they had first formed this group.
But no twisted dragon would arise this time.
The very ground all across the room began to glow as Cyrus' spell was set in motion, not just between them and their opponent but also Ardere and his. "Blood that flows through the tree of life, come forth and ensnare my prey. Be lost in the serpent's maw! Mana Zone unleash: Dead Hydra: Amber Array!"
At his echoing words, a flood of mana would pour forth from the Rising Dawn, like a massive solid wall rushing outward. Thick sap flooded the ground like a dam had burst, reaching out around the Vice Captain of the Golden Dawn in an area spanning 185 meters, at a speed of 125m/s.
But the flowing sap was only the beginning, for as it became still once filling the room, large sections of it began to harden into walls and rise as high as 20 meters, yet more of the still liquid sap dripping from the top of the barriers as they extended and connected. Countless walls with seemingly no rhyme or reason to them formed, creating a labyrinth of golden amber throughout the entire chamber.
This was the culmination of Cyrus' training in the ways of Defense and Restraining magic; the most powerful defensive spell in his arsenal. Quite possibly in the entire Clover Kingdom. Walls capable of withstanding two archmage spells, and able to reform completely up to three times so long as they were not entirely destroyed. The negative effects of the Restraining portion of the spell were something that would also affect his allies, but given the current situation he figured that it would be a fair trade off.
And besides that, he wasn't going to leave his companions to mire in the muck. Three more spells were cast; four golems emerged from the sap below, forming two each into his Heliades and Gauya Eye golems. "Assist Charles and Gris." Cyrus commanded the flying eyeballs, each rushing to the side of one of the Royal Knights and urging them to get on; while riding them they would be able to fly above the labyrinth, hopefully allowing them to avoid the worst of its effects while giving them a mobility advantage. They would obey the orders of their master's allies.
The third spell was his Fossil Facade, encasing both Heliades golems and himself in the familiar shell of amber. At a point from his sword both angelic warriors charged at the newcomer, with Cyrus himself following after with Ashford's sword at the ready to strike. For he and his soldiers of sap, the viscous maze may as well have not been there at all.
[attr="class,cyrusstats]Stats & Information
WC: 0733 | TWC: 17600
[attr="class,cyrusstats]
Mana Skin
12/24
Health
18/18
Mana
305/455
Movement Speed
05+30
Damage Taken
00
Healing Recieved
00
Mana Used
230
Mana Regen
80
[attr="class,cyrusstats] Combat Notes Cast Dead Hydra, Amber Array Summoned two Gauya Eyes (commanded to help and listen to Gris and Charles) Summoned two Heliades Protected self and Heliades with Fossil Facade Command Heliades to attack newcomer, also attacked with Ashford's sword
Items On Hand Magic Knight's Mantle Scorpion's Eclipse Strength of a Nation Puppeteer of the Current
Description: A powerful defensive maneuver developed primarily with the intention of protecting Cyrus' golems, though it can also be applied to people as well. When cast, this spell produces an orb of amber roughly a foot in diameter that rushes towards the intended target(s). Once it reaches an applicable figure, the sphere shapes itself around the target, encasing them in a durable armor shell that can withstand attacks as powerful as an Archmage spell. Those protected receive a +12 buff to their Durability stat, or +10 if it is cast on multiple targets.
Thanks to Self-repairing, the Fossil Facade can repair itself to full strength a maximum of three separate times so long as it is not entirely destroyed. Cyrus is also capable of reinforcing its Durability by +20 twice per thread for a single post with Final Stand. Multiple sets of armor can be produced so long as Cyrus meets the Control requirements as per the ammo rules.
Name of Spell: Gauya Eye Spell Element: Sap Spell Rank: Grand Mana Cost: 50 | 25 Type of Golem: Scout Applicable Perks: Puppet Master, Armament, Reinforced Golems Description: Bearing the appearance of a bizarre spherical creature with a single eye and wings larger than itself, the Gauya Eye is a peculiar but versatile Scout type golem. Standing as tall as 4 meters should Cyrus wish, these golems can be summoned two at a time and are capable of traveling at speeds up to 48m/s when unoccupied, or 40m/s when being ridden (able to hold up to 5 passengers total). Though they may seem frail with their odd bodies and disproportionate wings, the Eye is actually extremely hardy in resilience, as well as very sensitive to its surroundings thanks to its high Sensory rating, making it ideal for seeing through Illusions or fulfilling its role as a scout. To attack these creatures will fly into their enemies at high speeds, either shredding them with their wicked teeth or raking them with their talons and horns. The sheer impact of their body is also capable of causing damage.
Thanks to Armament, these creatures can have a single spell of their creator's applied to them for additional support, and Puppet Master and Reinforced Golems make it so that their stats are noticeably higher than the average Scout's.
Name of Spell: Heliades Spell Element: Sap Spell Rank: Grand Mana Cost: 50 | 25 Type of Golem: Predator Applicable Perks: Puppet Master, Armament, Reinforced Golems Description: Bearing the likeness of winged, armored warriors, the Heliades golem can reach heights of up to 8 meters and carry as many as 5 passengers at their base speed of 36m/s, with a maximum speed of 40 m/s. With their ornate, noble appearance they bring to mind the image of warrior angels or valkyries, flying at high speeds to attack and evade their opponents with the use of their hammer-like weapons and bladed wings. With their creation, Cyrus wanted to create warriors that would give civilians and allies something to look upon with hope, while still imposing to any enemies he may face. Only two may be summoned at once.
Name of Spell: [Mana Zone] Dead Hydra: Amber Array
Stats Effected: Durability +16 (user), -30 mana regen from single target (-20 for multiple), -16 control from single target (-12 for multiple)
Applicable Perks: World Binding, Lockdown, Aegis, Self-Repairing, Final Stand, Area of Triumph
Description: The culmination of Cyrus' extensive training in defensive and restraining magic, for this spell Cyrus draws on the mana of his surroundings to erect a combination of walls up to 20 meters tall and thick sap underfoot between himself and his opponent. Together these two aspects form a powerful blockade (x2 Archmage health for the walls, x1 for the sap), but it is when the spell is cast as an area of effect that its true extent can be seen. On casting, a labyrinth of amber walls up to 20 meters tall emerge from the ground within a 185 meter area, forming twisted paths leading to dead ends and passages forward. All throughout the maze's passages will be thick sap to impede the progress of those within. While within the confines of the labyrinth, people will have their mana regeneration cut by 30 (20 for multiple targets), and have their control weakened by 16 (12 for multiple). They will also have their casting limit reduced by 50% until the spell ends, is destroyed, or they escape. When used to target multiple people, World Binding reduces its durability by 10 to compensate.
Thanks to Lockdown, Cyrus can completely restrict the movement of someone within his spell's range once per page of a thread. He can make his spell take an extra +10 power to break through for a turn with Aegis (two post cooldown), and twice per thread for a single post can increase his spell's durability by +20 with Final Stand. Thanks to Self-Repairing, Cyrus' spell can restore itself back to full health up to three times per cast of the spell, so long as it was not completely destroyed.
I don't know where the future[break][break] will take us,[break][break] But we will blaze it together.[break][break]
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[attr="class","ardereescroll"] Hyah! Ardere shouted out in vigorous anger as his knee collided with Aamon's punch. While the punch may have been unavoidable, the Crimson Lion tucked in his leg and drove his knee into the punch. Beneath them the ground shattered at this collision, chunks of earth and debris scattering across an already barren battlefield. Being knocked slightly back, the Royal Knight did not have much time to react to the incoming kick. While his knee was not broken, he'd been stunned on that side by the Daemon. If he was hit again in that spot even with his superior power; his limb would surely break. [break][break] The visage of a godly Archdaemon was faltering by each passing moment, revealing the Elf underneath. Yet even as the Mark of the Champion began to fade, Ardere's appearance did not change. Standing before him was a pale blazing warrior, one who had been forever changed by these events. In his eyes was a world and within his heart was an inextinguishable fire. Not one ounce of fear remained in his form, not of dying nor of losing his comrades. This fight was already won. [break][break] Is that all this is to you, a farce? Was Ashford a joke? Varisse? Was Silas a joke when you didn't let me save him?! Rage was burning in his eyes as he was fixed on the opponent before him. Kicking off of the ground with his other leg, he leaped above the enemy's leg aiming to land a blow that in an honor fight would be frowned upon--this was no honor fight any longer. Lifting his leg up slightly and flattening his foot downward, the blow was aimed with all the might he could muster to kick Aamon's sternum and crack it. This isn't over until I fucking say it is! White aura began to shimmer around him as his own magical power was fueling his veins. While he did not have enough to call forth any powerful spells, he had just enough strength left to win this fight and that was all that mattered now. [break][break] While this blow would likely send Aamon flying, Ardere followed up with a lunged back-kick for good measure. His goal was to simply crush his opponent right into the ground. The Arena floor had already grown so fragile and cracked, it was growing more likely that a collapse would occur. The Crimson King had long since stopped caring. Time had all but stopped for him. He could hear nothing but the crunch of his enemy's bones. Had he been so consumed by this fight he'd forgotten to look at his comrades?
Spell Stuff:[break] -All spells deactivated[break] Speed: 50 m/s (Headstart/Momentum) [break] Strength: Grand to Archmage (Mark of the Champion still active) [break] Other active perks: Close Combat Expert
Last Edit: Feb 23, 2022 19:44:47 GMT -5 by Ardere✧
Not expecting what came next, especially not after witnessing the fight between Ardere and Aamon slowly getting closer and closer to a conclusion, fighting some sort of off-shoot was not exactly on his to-do list. Whether this being had formed from Aamon’s demonic mana or maybe being part of him all along, that wasn’t important right now. What was important was that they would need to handle it before it would become a bigger problem as he could tell that both Ardere and Aamon were running out of juice. Aside from that, Charles was out for the count, though he had managed to recuperate from the damage he had sustained and Cyrus had gotten over whatever weak streak he had received from staying merged with his spirit for too long. So with one member of the group incapacitated and the other being otherwise involved, this issue was for Griswold and Cyrus to solve.
Punching his fist into his cupped hand and using it to crack his knuckles, he looked at Cyrus for a moment, who already started planning ahead. So when this demonic entity brought up how Aamon had apparently already lost, claiming he had been too weak to be used as a sacrifice, whatever the hell that meant, Griswold started getting fired up. With his Alpha Signi spell empowering his body to the point where he could move faster and heal from much of the damage he sustained, he hoped that it was going to be enough. When Cyrus put out a bunch of golems, Griswold made sure that Charles was hoisted upon one of them, as it would allow the former of the two mages to keep his body out of harms way. And unlike the latter, Griswold was more than capable of taking care of himself, especially once the Golden Dawn mage began using his restrictive spells, creating a massive volume of sap.
“I’m not sure who or what you are, nor what you’re talking about. But you’re no Aamon, and I feel like letting out some of this frustration.”
Capable of sensing out his enemy to some degree shortly before it dashed towards Cyrus, the first thing he noticed was that this was the kind of enemy that he might be able to keep up with, unless it was somehow hiding its true speed. But seeing as how this thing had branched off of Aamon, the chances of it being his equal or being even stronger than him was incredibly unlikely, especially when considering how much he had been weakened up until this point. So as the floor became mired in sap, that was when Griswold began moving. While he could not do anything along the lines of flying, his current spell allowed him to essentially use the ambient mana in the air and run along it, though it only worked for as long as he moved to some degree. But he still had one more thing up his sleeve, a result of his own anger and displeasure building up inside of his body, strengthening him for some time now.
While some would consider it a form of “Rage”, Griswold did not see it that way, as rage blinded people to the truth that was right in front of them. No, for him, this was a way for him to vent all of the anger he had been experiencing while he had been inside of this tower, all of the anger he had felt since waking up that morning. And right now, he felt like he could strike just as hard if not harder than he had been able to do with one of his most powerful physical reinforcement spells strengthening his body. Beginning his charge, it appeared as though the creature instantly responded to it by sending tendrils towards Griswold as it would try to engage Cyrus. Using a relatively simple but effective spell, a beam of solar mana burst forth from his body in an attempt at burning away the tendrils and landing an initial blow on the beast. Moving in right after the blast, he’d aim to get a solid hit in, sending out a barrage of strikes, each for Grand damage.
TLDR: Using spell to increase his physical speed to 40 m/s, using the Herculean Strength+Berserker's Rage to put base strength at Grand. Charging the creature while using Senior spell in an attempt at burning away the attacking tendrils while closing the distance to get a few punches in.
Name of Spell: Celestial Body: Alpha Cygni Elemental Type: Solar Rank & Spell Type: Senior | Physical Reinforcement & Healing Range & Speed: Self | 50 m/s Mana Cost: 30 mp | 15 mp sustain Stats Effected: +20 m/s Applicable Perks: Full Blitz & Quick Shot Description: By making himself glow while focusing his solar mana tightly around and inside himself and keeping it there, rather than allowing it to be released in an explosive manner, the caster can push off of air and water molecules, thus allowing them to essentially run through the air and on water for the duration of the spell. More than that, by channeling their mana in this manner, they also increase the speed at which they move by +10 m/s and enable themselves to use fractions of it to restore their own body or restore their mana skin. Can heal Senior damage, regrow digits in two posts, and regrow limbs and minor/smaller non-vital organs in four posts. For every turn that it is active, it will also aim to remove any debuffs if present following the "cleaning" rules. During the day, the aura around the caster takes on an orange hue, taking on a silver blue hue after dark.
Name of Spell: Galactic Nucleus: Blazar Elemental Type: Solar Rank & Spell Type: Senior | Attack Creation Range & Speed: 80 meters | 40 m/s Mana Cost: 30 mp | 15 mp sustain Stats Effected: +6 to Power Applicable Perks: “Overpowered” Description: A more powerful version of the solar flare (lunar swirl) spell, Galactic Nucleus: Blazar is a spell that compresses and fires a massive amount of solar mana from the user into a specific direction, following a straight line. Making the body of the user radiate with light before the beam erupts forward, it is initiated in exactly the same manner as Quasar, allowing for a surprise element towards those that are familiar with his spells. Instead of exploding when coming into contact with a solid surface, it will instead attempt to burn its way through by either punching through almost all non-magical structures with ease or by melting it on contact. Scorching the earth and leaving a trail in its wake, the beam can cause minor third degree burns, break bones and make a direct hit quite lethal. Using the “ammo” rules, the caster is capable of preventing allies of being hit by the beam. During the day, the spell takes on an orange hue, taking on a silver blue hue after dark.
The fist fight intensified as Ardere took the hit to his knee, and as they both traded blow for blow it was quickly becoming more of a trudging fight in the mud as the archdaemon Aamon was bloodied and losing strength fast, Ardere blazed with anger, but was easy to tell his strength too was quickly diminishing. When Ardere decided to attack further verbally he launched an attack as Aamon knocked the initial attack away before yelling out. ”I WAS CORRUPTED BY THE POWER TO DEFEND MY KINGDOM!” He spat blood as he was kicked and thrown down into the ground. He then laughed with a weak raspy breath. ”I am ready to atone for my sins…you are a worthy opponent… Crimson King…but you do not know the range in which these devils operate…even as I have kept you here…” He spat out blood as he was starting to slip… That was when he looked to the other two fighters still up and there was seemingly nothing amiss, but still the archdaemon knew…he absolutely knew that there was something more afoot. ”Stop hitting me…I am no longer…Aamon, I remember who I was…there is something I need to do to commend you and your group.” He said as he coughed blood, attempting to literally brush off Ardere as if it were nothing.
Cyrus, Griswold…
The fight raged on as Cyrus showed a power the likes that have not been seen by the world yet…the epitome of this knights magic as he unleashed his own Mana Zone caught the shade by surprise, but even still Griswold’s attacks reached it like a deadly salvo of destruction…when everything had cleared the shade was missing several areas now…completely see through as it broke out in laughter. ”You both think that you can kill me…your spells are weak when pressed against that of a DEVIL!” The ominous feeling was only made more grave as the holes that were made in the shade began to heal themselves as it continued to attack, now seeming to strike its tendrils towards both of them. ”Aamon was only the beginning of what is to come…what is HAPPENING at this very moment...you honestly think we would send ONE daemon at a time?!” the shade spoke in a monologue as it began to enter a haze-like state…perhaps it was weakening?
[attr=class,cyrustext]Griswold and Cyrus' attacks connected on the mysterious figure who had appeared before them, briefly engulfing the stranger in a cloud of smoke for a time. And when the shroud faded, it was clear that their attacks had hit their mark; gaps and holes marked the beast's body all over, but despite the clear damage it seemed unbothered.
And it was plain to see why, as it boasted of its status as a devil, not merely a demon, its countless wounds inflicted by their attacks quickly healing away until it was as if they hadn't even attacked in the first place. The enemy mocked them for thinking things would be over with just Aamon, readying its twisted appendages to attack them once again. Cyrus considered his words, but not without noticing how their foe seemed to be almost phasing in and out of existence. Was it more heavily injured that it cared to admit? Or was it like an illusion, starting to fade away as its caster weakened?
Whichever the case was, if it even matched one of the two, Cyrus did not know. Nor, in this very moment, did he care all that much. He readied Ashford's sword, then ran to the side behind one of the amber walls of his summoned labyrinth for cover as he approached the devil, rushing through the barriers to strike once more. As he did so he sent commands to his Heliades, commanding one to strike at their target from above while the other took the side opposite of Cyrus. As before the golem ignored the walls of their master's spell, moving in for the attack.
Cyrus wasn't interested in bantering or humoring the creature. He was tired, emotionally and physically. And even if he did decide to trade wits with the shade, he had no way of knowing if anything it said would be true. He spoke of others, and Cyrus' thoughts briefly turned to the other archdaemons they had been told about. Certainly they would be a problem.
But for the moment, they had a problem to deal with right here and now.
[attr="class,cyrusstats]Stats & Information
WC: 0352 | TWC: 17952
[attr="class,cyrusstats]
Mana Skin
24/24
Health
18/18
Mana
270/455
Movement Speed
05
Damage Taken
00
Healing Recieved
00
Mana Used
115
Mana Regen
00
[attr="class,cyrusstats] Combat Notes Spells sustained Ran to attack shade with Ashford's sword Commanded Heliades golems to attack as well
Items On Hand Magic Knight's Mantle Scorpion's Eclipse Strength of a Nation Puppeteer of the Current
Due to the fact that this being seemed to be a lot less corporeal than Aamon was, there was nothing as tangible about hitting this thing as it was when hitting an actual person. Still, Griswold believed his blows were landing simply because of the holes that were forming in this thing. That said, it was more as if this thing they were fighting was more of a presence, rather than the actual thing. It did not take a scholar to figure out after all that dealing with a “Devil” as it claimed itself to be would be in a whole other league than fighting something along the lines of a demon or even an archdemon. Because of that, if this were an actual devil, both Griswold and Cyrus would have been eradicated the moment they attacked it. But since that did not seem to be the case, he could only deduce that this thing was merely a fraction of the real deal.
While it seemed as though Cyrus had burned through most of the fire he had in him when he threw insults at Aamon, he imagined it was only natural. With how long this had all taken, how the constant fighting had been tiring them out more and more as time progressed, it was truly quite a miracle the same hadn’t been the case for Griswold yet. That said, whatever had caused him to feel the amounts of anger and even rage had been keeping him from going down several times now, even when other emotions he felt were feeling overwhelming. Through it all, that rage had fueled his tenacity to keep going, and it was that same tenacity that would see them through this newly formed situation.
“Don’t misunderstand, I don’t think I can take down a devil, I couldn’t even take down an archdemon. But whatever this is, it’s no devil, not a complete one at least. So the way I see it, as long as I keep hitting you, eventually, this form of yours is going to dissipate completely.”
Continuing to throw a barrage of punches even as he spoke, he just increased the pace of his blows by taking things about as far as they could go. Because for as much as his physical strength had increased due to being in a near constant battle, his speed was limited to what he could do right now. So as he reached the roof on both strength and speed, he’d keep striking at this strange apparition until it did what he had assumed it would, dissipate entirely. Through it all, Griswold understood very well that they might be able to poke this thing for information if they were clever, but after all the fighting that had happened, all of the talking they had already done and all of the death they had witnessed here, he truly couldn’t give a damn about what it had to say.
As it were, there was no doubt in his mind about something even more powerful than the archdemons orchestrating things from behind the scenes, but to think that this thing had latched on and been with Aamon the entire time was odd. Together with all of the things it had managed to say up until now, it was clear that Aamon and this “Devil” did not trust one another to do whatever it was that they needed to do, which truly made him question how the other archdemons fit into all of this. But just knowing that they weren’t all here fighting together meant that they likely had some different goals in this world, and that they either had a busy schedule or simply did not care at all about helping one of their own that was getting beaten to death not too far from his current position.
So while he still had plenty of rage burning in the furnace that was his soul, he was going to keep smashing this thing until either nothing remained of it, or until he ran out of fumes.
675 (25740)
Last Edit: Mar 3, 2022 21:21:15 GMT -5 by Griswold
I don't know where the future[break][break] will take us,[break][break] But we will blaze it together.[break][break]
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[attr="class","ardereescroll"] Ardere sighed. How had it come to this? The fight he'd been spending all his time preparing for to end in such a manner. Perhaps this was for the best--Aamon had reached his limit anyways. But what was the bigger play here? Many of us are given a bad lot in life. It's the choices we make despite the circumstances we are given that define us as people. Blame the Devils all you like, but now that I've had a taste of power myself--I know there is a level of blame in you as well. The Crimson King walked over to the sword that had once been affixed to his hip but now lay across the ground. Sliding it back into its scabbard, he exhaled deeply. Turning to the Elf, his eyes were still blazing. [break][break] The Mark of the Champion's power was all but gone now, yet his appearance had not returned to normal. Was this a permanent change? Had he been forever scarred by this power? Perhaps so. For now he did not care, rather he walked back to his opponent and stood before the cracking visage of an Elf Daemon. What did the Devils do to you...hmm? He whispered to himself. There was a look of sadness and exasperation on the Crimson Lion's face. As the Tower's trembling had finally stopped, the battlefield had frozen. Two warriors remained but was this fight actually over? Ardere finally stopped to notice something--something darker. Once Aamon was done speaking, he'd have to move to his comrades. [break][break] This place....the dead you've kept here....is this all just one big suicide note? Ardere could tell now--Aamon was dying. The fight had ended the moment he killed Varisse and claimed the Champion's power for himself. What debt would he have to pay for this victory? Clutching the handle of his Grandfather's sword tightly, his intent was clear; he'd hear the Elf out but if he did anything funny it would be the last thing he ever did in this world.
Hearing his words as he went to go pick up his sword, it was more like he was being scolded for what he did. He did not have time for this, not in this moment…HIS finale. “It does not concern you where my blame is placed…this is the final act of my glorious symphony of sorts. Crimson King…you were indeed a worthy opponent, but the Devils…those beings are the true antagonists. All I did was fall into despair when my wife died, you held a piece of my son’s former lover…Varisse…you can access these memories…consider this a gift, now before I go to this finale, give me the hand with the mark of the champion.” He said as he held out his hand towards you, a bloody tear fell from his right, swollen eye as the power left inside of him resonated with the mark. It would fly up, it was almost alarming except that Aamon did not hold animosity in his gaze at all. When he finally touched the mark of the champion there would be a spark, the next moment an explosion and a squishing sound as Aamon’s left arm exploded as he touched the mark, but Ardere would not see this…instead he would experience something else…rendering him useless in this final moment.
Ardere would experience and “out of body” sensation as Aamon turned back towards Griswold and Cyrus, except…he was not alone, and he was no longer the visage of an old…abused…grief stricken elf. Instead he looked resplendent and awe inspiring. Two people…Varisse and Ashford to his right and left, then the coliseum itself…crumbling away just like the power Aamon held…except there were the innumerable, they cheered Aamon on, their souls no longer looked pained as Aamon stepped towards Griswold and Cyrus…something that Arder could also not see from when he was just flesh…a great clouded figure was attacking the two Royal Knights and it looked in this plane…to be something that words could not describe…but there was a sense that would wash over Ardere…this being was powerful.
Cyrus, Griswold…[/i]
The two remaining knights attacked the shade, they were both pushed to the brink…shown how little they were in the grand scheme of things yet they continued to fight. Their combined efforts kept the shade busy as it looked like it struggled to keep up with this onslaught. Griswold’s words about Aamon…about his own shortcomings…they mattered little to this being. It caught Ashford’s sword by the blade just to be struck by the golem(s) which caused it to anger and grip the blade hard enough to shatter it, releasing an ear-splitting scream as the metal was rendered useless. It whipped its body around and clawed the golems, rending them into several sticky segments as Griswold put up a valiant effort, pushing the shade to its barrier. However just as it looked as though the shade had finally reached a breaking point it flared up, only for the two Royal Knight mages to see Aamon break through the barrier and grasp the shade as if it was a physical object.
”FINALLY Hammel…I will have my vengeance!”[/b] The voice would ring through all the planes of existence as Aamonstepped through the shadows barrier that locked them in, Griswold and Cyrus could see Ardere, he was holding out the hand that held the mark of the champion.
The party…
Ardere would finally come back to his senses as he would be able to see his entire party and Aamon grasping the shade. There would be enough time for the three to gather once more before the final combat commenced. ”I would suggest that the three of you remain behind me.” He would say as he coughed up blood again. The shade thrashed about and screeched at Aamon. ”H-How could you betray our power…Aamon WE WILL DESTROY THE SOULS OF YOUR PEOPLE FOREVER FOR THIS!!! It struck Aamon through his chest five times, but found it could not remove itself from the wounds it had made…the one Aamon called Hammel, began to shake as it was losing strength. ”I took MY PEOPLE…WITH ME! Hammel, you and the other devils…you have no power over me now, and once the Crimson King spreads the word to his people…they will come for your kind next. However…my people now rally behind me…their forgiveness…” He coughed and spat blood once more as the shade soon began to fade…it was trying to run. ”Tye indóme vamme imeúre-. úr- as i intensitime -o i quenya aranie” Those that had Elvish blood or had been touched by the souls of the pure elves in this place recognized the speech anymore…Aamon damned the shade…to perish by the power of the forgotten Quenyan kingdom.
Hammel screamed as Aamon laughed, it was a chaotic moment as the mana of the surrounding arena began to go haywire and collapse. Aamon looked to Ardere and spoke one final time. ”Varisse…take them away to my throne…they will be safe there while my domain finally collapses.” He said as he finally collapsed, Aamon was pierced by the destroyed rubble of his arena, the last thing the three would see as an angelic Varisse appeared before them and they would disappear is Aamon’s head crushed by his own seat and the arena exploded as the cheering of countless souls sang out like a chorus…
An eyeblink later and Varisse and the Royal Knights were now in the throne room of Aamon, there were weapons, treasures, scrolls…things that the eyes of any normal person would not be able to see in any of their lifetimes. Varisse stood there, no physical body anymore as she wept, falling to her knees she looked…very different from what she showed before…corruption and malice had disappeared from her soul, even Griswold would feel sorrow now as he saw that Varisse was shackled here, a hole where her heart was and a collar around her neck…she had been bound here, and now they could see that outside the battle tower…the Magic Knights had defeated the assailants, an unknown amount of time had passed…but the sun was beginning to crest over the horizon…soon it would be daylight and the knights would be able to see what they would have to do to rebuild should they need it…yet the battle tower rubble…all began to decay gradually…as if becoming one with mana all over again…purified…
Inside of this throne room there only stood three knights…Griswold, Cyrus, and Ardere…the Royal Knights that purified the realm of an archdaemon and stopped another Shadowlands from appearing…or worse. Now what would they have to do in order to leave this place finally?
