"What just happened?" Mordane muttered, scanning the open field around them. "We were deep inside the base… how are we out here?"
Seraphine's golden eyes fell upon the battered squad. Her voice carried across the air, clear and resonant.
"Do not be alarmed, humans. I do not intend to harm you."
Before anyone could reply, Shrikecoil hurled his spear straight at her. Seraphine tilted gracefully to the side, the weapon tearing past her as if it were nothing.
"So that's what you call it? The Void?" Shrikecoil sneered, crimson metal rippling in his hands as he forged another spear. "You can't have it. I'll kill it and bring its core to our king."
He raised his weapon to throw again—
—but the orbs circling Seraphine blazed, unleashing beams of searing light.
Shrikecoil sprinted across the torn ground, his movements erratic, dodging the barrage with inhuman speed.
"Do you really think you can kill the Void?" Seraphine's voice rang out, calm but edged with disdain.
"Just watch me!" Shrikecoil roared back, weaving between beams as he hurled spear after spear. "I'll kill you, devour what's left, and rip its core out with my bare hands!"
Seraphine ascended higher, her wings gleaming as she avoided each spear. Her voice turned mocking, almost pitying.
"You don't even know what you're fighting. The Void has no core. You and abominations like you are the ones who have cores."
One of her beams caught Shrikecoil in the shoulder, scorching through crimson flesh. He staggered mid-stride, Seraphine seized the opening—her orbs converged, light fusing into one massive beam that tore through the sky toward him.
But Shrikecoil's wings snapped wide. With a violent beat, he propelled himself clear of the blast, the beam searing the earth where he had hovered. Smoke curled from his regenerating wound as he steadied himself in the air.
"Then how are you going to kill it?" Shrikecoil growled.
Her five orbs split again, resuming their relentless assault. "I'm not here to kill the Void."
Shrikecoil snarled, spears materializing one after another in his hands as he hurled them through the air. "Then why are you here?"
"I don't have to tell you," she replied coldly, weaving between the projectiles. "Now die already."
The battlefield below bore the scars of their clash—patches of ground melted into glowing craters where the beams struck, and Shrikecoil's discarded spears jutted from the earth like crimson stakes.
Mordane's squad could only watch, awestruck.
"Is that Angel here to save us?" Morren asked quietly.
"I don't know," Mordane admitted. "But she did say she doesn't intend to harm us."
Stroud squinted at the sky. "Looks like they're talking… but how the hell are they hearing each other from that distance?"
"I have no idea," Mordane muttered. "But I think we should move."
They had just started to shift position when Shrikecoil noticed them. With a snarl, he flung a spear in their direction. It tore through the air at impossible speed, closing the distance in a heartbeat.
Mordane barely had time to react—
—but Seraphine did. A golden beam shot from one of her orbs, striking the spear mid-flight. It dissolved instantly, melting away before it could skewer Mordane from behind.
"Do not move from that spot," Seraphine commanded, her voice echoing directly in their ears. "You'll only slow me down."
Mordane gave a sharp nod.
Stroud glanced at him, still wide-eyed. "General… how the hell are we hearing her so clearly from this far away?"
Morren gave a shaky, broken smile. "Maybe it's magic."
Mordane exhaled, his gaze locked on the impossible duel above. "You might be right, Corporal. After everything we've seen… this might actually be magic."
A lone light orb drifted toward Mordane's team, circling above them and Voss's fallen body. As Shrikecoil's attacks alternated between Seraphine and the humans, that orb shielded them from harm.
Shrikecoil sneered at Seraphine. "You will lose if you keep protecting those humans down there."
Seraphine's tone was calm, cutting. "You haven't managed to land a single hit on me since this fight began, while I've struck you three times."
Shrikecoil chuckled darkly. "Where did you learn to count? I've only been hit twi—"
Before he could finish, the protective orb fired a beam straight into his right leg. He staggered, moved quickly, and regenerated the wound.
"See? Three times," Seraphine said mockingly.
Rage twisted Shrikecoil's face. He charged directly at Mordane's team, weaving through the beams of Seraphine's orbs. Her focus remained fixed on him—too fixed.
The spears scattered across the battlefield began to hum and melt, reshaping into spinning drill-heads that whirred at high speed. Before Seraphine could react, Shrikecoil's lips curled into a sinister grin. With a sudden motion, all the drills launched toward her.
Caught off guard, Seraphine was pierced through by every strike.
Mordane's team froze, stunned by the sight.
Shrikecoil threw back his head and let out a hideous, triumphant laugh. "Die, you bitch! Now who's standing?"
But before his laughter could die out, the orb that had been guarding Mordane's team began to shift. The remaining orbs unleashed a storm of beams against him. The protective orb reshaped into Seraphine herself, while the body impaled by the drills dissolved into an orb and melted them all away.
In one swift motion, Seraphine's right hand swung like a blade, severing Shrikecoil's head clean from his shoulders. His body collapsed with a resounding thud, the severed head rolling across the ground toward the Ironwatch Hold's entrance. All five orbs reassembled at Seraphine's side, spinning in unison.
Morren's voice was hushed, uncertain. "Is it over? Is that thing finally dead?"
Stroud shook his head grimly. "I… really don't think so."
Seraphine merged her five orbs into a single radiant sphere, divine power crackling around it. She hurled a massive beam at Shrikecoil's fallen body. The strike tore open the ground, creating a vast crater, molten stone bubbling like lava.
But Shrikecoil's body stirred. Before the blast could consume him fully, he darted low across the ground, clutching his severed head and retreating. He slipped into the Ironwatch Hold just as its gates opened from within.
His mocking voice echoed from inside. "That was a smart move. I'll give you that."
Then came the sound. A low-pitched hum rose from deep within the base, suffocating and unbearable. It pressed into their chests like a crushing weight, their hearts pounding, stomachs churning. Mordane's team collapsed to their knees, retching into the dirt as the vibrations rattled their very bones. Their wounds throbbed and burned in unison with the deadly note.
Seraphine hovered before them, her orbs spinning steadily, glowing with an even intensity. Tilting her head, she found the precise frequency and released a counter-resonance from the orbs. The waves clashed invisibly, pressing against Shrikecoil's lethal sound. The suffocating pressure eased slightly, though teeth still ached and nausea clung to them.
Minutes passed like hours. At last, Shrikecoil's sound faded, and Seraphine stilled her orbs.
But then the ground shook violently, heavy thuds echoing from the Ironwatch Hold. All eyes turned toward the entrance.
Seraphine said nothing, though her expression hardened. She combined her orbs again, forming a single massive sphere, and fired an immense beam into the gates. The entrance melted, collapsing in molten ruin.
Through the haze stepped Shrikecoil. The beam had grazed him, scorching his body, but he ignored it completely.
He was transformed. Larger now, grotesque and monstrous—like a golem made of blood. Each step quaked the ground as he devoured the corpses of fallen soldiers, his remaining followers dragging more bodies toward him like offerings.