The burning smoke chokes me out of my daze, while the unbearable heat invades the rest of my senses. My vision warps with the flames, while sweat pours from all over my body.
I thought I already got over this scene, and yet it still appears before me.
However, it seems like I was mistaken. On another look, I realize this isn’t the same burning village I was once in. Where I’m standing is a hill, filled with a raging fire and armored corpses of various soldiers. Weapons scattered across the hill make the scenery akin to a wartime grave – a grave of swords.
On the hilltop sits a lone angel.
As he hears my footsteps, his eyes gleam for a second, but as soon as he realizes who I am, the light in his eyes dies as well.
“Why does it have to be you?” The angel shouts. “Where’s the boy?”
“I’m as clueless as you are, Uriel,” I answer. “And where are we, anyway?”
“… Heaven’s Gate,” as if swallowing his rage, the angel replies with a grunt of discontent.
“I mean here. This place.”
“… The hill of Camlann. Where I had my last battle with Arthur.”
“Sucks for this to be your last memory, huh?”
“Drop the chatter, girl,” Uriel practically hisses with spite. “And get out of my way.”
“Bold words coming from you. Am I not your biggest counter?”
“What, you mean your puny flames? Save me the jokes.”
“I’m no longer the same girl from two years ago. You’ll regret looking down on me.” I wave my hand to summon my flag spear, donning myself in my defensive armor.
“White?” Asks Uriel.
“I handle flames better with this,” I answer, waving the flag in response. Synchronizing with my movements, a flicker of flame emerges, before growing larger and larger with each round, forming itself into a giant dragon made of pure fire.
“Asmodai no Hiryuu!”
The dragon launches itself forward, letting out a mighty roar and baring its fiery fangs at my foe. However, before it can even touch its target, a flashing red blade has already cleaved through its entire serpentine body, dissipating it in one clean hit.
“I see you learned a new move,” the angel scoffs.
“Yeah, picked it up in Japan.”
“Parlor tricks. You’re wasting your time.”
“We’ll see about that. Hi no Kusari!”
I call forth another burst of flame. The fire stretches itself as soon as it spawns, slithering towards the angel at top speed before coiling around his arms and legs, reminiscent of my first time trapping him in place. Unlike the last time, when my flames didn’t have a form, this one clearly forms a red-hot chain and shackles that tighten around Uriel’s wrists and ankles, squeezing his joints to the point of burning into his flesh.
Standing directly in the midst of danger, however, the angel still isn’t worried one bit. Just annoyed. “Another pointless upgrade. I’ve seen enough.”
Just like our encounter in Bastille, Uriel rips the chains off with his bare hands, but unlike the first time around, his face now writhes with pain as he goes. The burn marks on his wrists are much more severe, too. If my flames had been stronger, his hand might completely fall off by now. But the angel still stands, raising his blade in response.
If crackling sounds didn’t form above us, I wouldn’t know that the sky has turned into a dark crimson. Lightning roars, winds howl, and the flames on the hilltop are all snuffed out. My body tenses up, for I know this move he’s about to make.
“Just die already! Thunderstorm Clarent!”
With no time to spare, I plant my flag on the ground, readying my strongest defense.
“Forteresse Éternelle!”
It’s not Asmodai forming the technique this time, but I have already grown to do the same. A giant fortress of living flames rages on, and a barrage of soldiers raises their fiery shields to protect the castle and its commander with their lives. A unified battle cry erupts, and the fortress turns more real than anything else I’ve ever formed, even beating my black spears in clarity and finesse.
The lightning storm, however, refuses to lose and keeps on pushing forward. The soldiers fizzle out one by one, but others soon replace the originals. Things have turned to a stalemate.
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“Roar, Clarent!”
“I won’t lose here!”
I put all of my power into the flag in my hand. I can feel my back burning from the fire, as a set of skeletal black wings grow from my white armor. A black crown forms on my head, and my flag turns into an ash color from its usual white.
Outside, assisting the soldiers are spears raining from above, forming another layer of defense from the approaching storm. Booming sounds of thunder and flame echo through the battlefield, creating the illusion of a fierce war fought by armies of tens of thousands, while in reality, only two people were involved in the first place.
I slowly lose my grip on my flag as the lightning storm pushes on. My defenses are slowly but surely beginning to crack. But at the same time, I can hear a shout of pure anger from the other side:
“Damn it all! Why won’t you die!”
That’s right. I’ve grown from last time. I can stand on my own. He’s having as much trouble as I am. So all I have to do…
“Is to believe!” I let out a shout of my own, reinforcing the flag with all my might. The flames of the fortress burn brighter than ever before. The fire soldiers let out another cry that sinks the battlefield. The flurry of spears keeps on raining down, this time not just covering the fortress, but the entire hill itself.
Stand my ground. I can do this.
“Victory will be mine!”
As my last shout rips through the air, the lightning storm finally comes to a stop, and along with it, my castle of flames explodes in a spectacular scene, sending fireworks all over the hill, setting it on fire once more. All the power that I expended, combined with the lack of air from the flames, causes me to stagger and kneel on the ground exhausted. On the other side, however, Uriel is still without a scratch, but with a face more distraught than ever.
“I-Impossible… My Clarent… lost to you? Not that boy, not Arthur himself, but you?”
“Hah… haha…” I can’t help but let out a laugh at the joy of the battle. “I told you, right? You’re stuck with me. Now deal with it.”
“I refuse to accept this!” Shouts the angel. “I will not lose to anyone! Not until I’m facing that boy again!”
Uriel, for the first time, charges forward, his sword cackling with thunderous energy.
“Guess I don’t get a rest…” I mumble, changing my armor to its usual black while keeping my flaming wings.
As his sword slashes towards me, I raise my hand. From above and below, flaming black spears spawn again, but none would actually hit the angel. Piercing the exact spots in the space around him, the spears manage to form a perfect lock of his movements, keeping his hands and legs from advancing another step.
“Did you know why you lost, Uriel?” I approach the trapped angel.
“Save me the lesson, brat.”
“You never took your opponents seriously, except when it comes to Excalibur. It happened the first time we fought, and it happened again here. That blast of Clarent was the bigger proof: your attack from before was much stronger. And now you pay for your mistake with your life.”
“Do you actually think you can kill me with your spears, brat?”
“Again, this is why you lost,” I answer, raising my hand towards his face. “Who says I’m using my spears?”
I snap my fingers. Immediately, the angel combusts into flames, while the sturdy spears prevent him from ever escaping or putting them out. As the angel’s face chars from the fire, his agonizing screams become sounds of disdain:
“I won’t accept this end! Let me have another chance! Curse you! Curse you… Petra Romeé!”
Those are the last words before his entire body becomes cinders.
Grabbing his Clarent from the ashes, I scoff one last time. “Yeah, remember that name, and take it to your grave.”
With Uriel’s demise, the illusion finally dispels itself, revealing the scenery around me to only be a dark room with a door right in front. On the door are two holes, one circular for an unknown item, while the other is cross-shaped for the item on my neck.
“Two? What’s the other one for…”
A sudden hit from the back interrupts me. As I fall down and my consciousness slips away from me, the last thing I can tell is a vaguely familiar face, along with an equally familiar voice:
“I’ll be taking these.”
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