KESM: Terra Quatuor Chronicles

The Cumulodrake's body screamed with pain. It was a sharp, purging sensation that stripped away the fog clouding its mind, leaving only battle-honed clarity. Whatever beast the Mage summoned earlier had nearly shattered its psyche, planting insidious whispers in its mind, tendrils of madness threatening to take root. Yet, it was gone now — a fleeting terror. Madness, after all, was for the weak.

Encircled by humans, it braced for the next wave. The purifying light it had summoned in its last charge had burned through the Samurai's poisons embedded deep in its veins. It hadn't realized just how much they had affected it until now. Even the Mage's Spells — seemingly harmless explosions and adhesives — had carried poison. Each drop seeped into its hide with patient precision, a slow, relentless corruption. His abilities were easily the most diverse amongst the group, but his main forte seemed something to do with Transmutation; changing matter, energy and everything in-between from one form to another.

'Their cards never cease.'

The drake thought, running through its fragmented memories of the fight. These humans wielded their arts like masters, weaving together techniques with calculated skill. What could they achieve if left to mature?

'Would they reach for the same realm as that creature?'

'No.' it continued 'That being is insurmountable. Even True borns would falter against its might. I must strive to attain power much, much greater.' 

'And knowledge is the first thing I must acquire.'

'The Esper….'

Now stood at the edge of the crater, limped, with a bleeding gash on her thigh, sutured with strings of light. 

Emaila — the other Esper of Sabbath's team — once moved with effortless grace, a hypnotic blend of poise and speed. Her long chestnut hair, tied into twin braids, each secured with thin golden ribbons, had once swayed like hypnotic pendulums in her wake. Now they hung static, drenched in blood and rain.

Her loose fitting hakama billowed faintly in the wind, dark cropped top clinging to her frame, revealing toned muscle beneath inked constellations along her torso, not a hint of her ivory skin. Heralding this striking contrast were her tattoos; inked intricately along her ribcage to her waistline. A stunning night sky, complete with constellations bloomed from just beneath her bosom, all the way down, with almost shifting patterns which still glowed faintly when her Esper abilities were active. 

The bandages which covered these tattoos had long been destroyed from the Drake's unrelenting assault.

Her eyes — framed by thin, oval glasses — constantly analyzing the world around her, sharp and golden yellow like the sun. With a white cloth tied around her neck, bearing the team's emblem; A Citadel, crossed on one slant by two swords, and on the other by a witching staff, with a star atop the citadel shining brightly.

'Successfully slowed her down, she won't be darting around anymore. Whatever energy she had, was used to sustain that shield.' the Drake mused, analysing the situation. It continued 'Plus, she no longer sports her staff, meaning it must've been destroyed…. or not. She showed prowess in manipulating light, illusions were also part of what she could manifest, but without the Mage to give it presence, it's wasted against Me.'

'Speaking of the Mage, he won't be able to summon that abomination again, and even if he could, he won't. Most of his other Spells he has showcased will largely be ineffective against Me, especially if I simply evade it…. mhmmm, the poison.'

Its gaze shifted again.

'The Samurai has lost her transformed state, the traits she could manifest due to it have been spent. Her physical might, while still enhanced, is considerably lower. It seems she can use poisons to modify her capabilities. Doping. There's also the problem of those Talismans she placed around, tricky but no real power.'

'The Knight seems to have suffered the most damage from my last attack. He fixed himself up somehow, but it isn't a long term, or well executed solution. I'm most familiar with Knights, I can read him the best and he can't hurt Me in a head on collision, his earlier charge had been a gamble, all his strength poured into a single blow. It had faile_'

Before it could complete the thought, taking advantage of the elevation, seeing as the Drake was in the centre of the crater. Hayz charged headfirst, hammer blazing with vermilion aura. His roar was as fierce as the Drake's, but it wasn't enough. The creature shifted, claws meeting metal in a clash that sent shockwaves through the earth, which in turn was shattered by the forces created, a clash between two giants. The Knight braced, his boots digging into the mud, but the Fiend's strength was overwhelming. Hayz was thrown back, crashing into a jagged outcrop with a sickening crunch.

'Seems they're done conversing.'

The beast's attention turned to Sabbath.

'You.' it thought, staring with frenzied irritation 'I don't know what you're capable of. You've kept your cards skillfully hidden, you've abated all my attacks, survived without injury. Your presence gives you away, you're an Esper no doubt.… That's what worries Me more.'

Of all the humans here, Sabbath was the most unnerving. 

In this bloody battle, the Drake had come to realise each Kingdom's denizens — observing the team — had a special 'Trait', so to speak.

Samurai, it noted, seemed to merge with nature, blending their essence with its will. Knights rebelled against it, forging their strength in defiance, this much was a familiar trait. Mages coerced and deceived it, twisting reality to their needs. But Espers…. Espers created and manipulated nature.

It understood just as most humans did, Espers were an insidious bunch, they often possessed the most absurd abilities of all the Kingdoms.

'What is your game, Sabbath?'

Oh how it wished to ask that question aloud, but it couldn't, and it had no need. The clouds themselves carried its thoughts.

Noticing this.

"My game you ask?" Sabbath replied, equal parts expecting that question and equal parts pleased with the outcome.

"Well, you'll find out soon enough."

The Esper hadn't moved much…. in comparison to his team at least…. his eyes locked onto the Drake with unnerving focus. While the others fought with flair and noise, Sabbath was quiet, calculating. Manipulating the play of the battle like a Marionette.

The Fiend felt something probe at its mind, a tendril of thought that slithered like a serpent into its consciousness. It snarled, the sound vibrating through its core. This one was dangerous, because what he could do was unknown.

He was truly the most enigmatic of the bunch.

He stood tall and still amidst the chaos — staring down — jet-black eyes alight with ghostly green lights that flickered like trapped spirits in a glass prism, reflecting off their walls. Rain ran in rivulets down his ebony skin, gleaming under the storm's intermittent flashes, his slender figure accentuated. His hair, long and locked, streaked with white, was tied back in a sleek ponytail that swayed in the wind.

Sabbath sported brown fitted pants and a white shirt, his feet were wrapped in light bandages, revealing his toes and heels, though his movements never suggested injury or pain. 

Around his neck rested a silver necklace, a pendant, shaped like a chess piece. If one could see it in enough detail, at this time, they'd say it looked like a King piece.

The storm raged above, as the battle below. Sabbath watched his team falter — laying defeated on different parts of the crater — The Samurai knocked unconscious, collapsed against rubble. The Knight, missing an arm, barely resisting, despite his injuries. The Esper unable to call on any more power, her mental spent. And the Mage, sealing the gaping wound in his abdomen. 

The Marionette had revealed its strings, and this Fiend was caught in the dance.

It was just two of them now.