Chapter 52 – The Water That Refused to Break
The moment Naëlle's water armor finished forming, the air around her shifted.
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't flashy.
It was confident.
The liquid plates hugged her body like they belonged there, flowing and reshaping with every breath she took. Light rippled beneath the surface, runes faint but alive, reacting to her pulse. The twin water-forged guns in her hands hummed softly, as if recognizing her intent before she even spoke.
Naëlle didn't look back at the enemies.
She looked at Peterson.
Bloodied. Barely conscious. Trying to lift his head and failing.
Her jaw tightened.
She raised one gun, pointed—not at Afre or Ravena—but at Peterson.
"Water Shield."
She squeezed the trigger.
Instead of a bullet, a sphere of water burst forward, expanding midair like a living thing. It wrapped around Peterson's body in an instant, forming a translucent bubble that sealed itself tight. The surface rippled once… then hardened just enough to deflect force while staying fluid.
Peterson's body slumped safely inside.
His breathing steadied slightly.
Afre scoffed. "You're protecting him first? How noble."
Naëlle didn't answer.
She lowered both guns and whispered again.
"Water Skate Style."
The ground beneath her feet liquefied.
Not flooded—refined.
Two sleek, crescent-shaped skates formed under her boots, water hardening along the edges while staying fluid at the core. The instant they locked into place, Naëlle pushed off—
—and vanished.
She shot backward in a blur, skating across stone and earth as if gravity had lost its grip on her. A ring of mist followed her movement, the sound of rushing water slicing through the air.
Afre's eyes widened. "She's fast—!"
Too late.
Naëlle circled them, her movement smooth and relentless, skating sideways, backward, around them, never staying in one place for more than a heartbeat.
"Water Bullets."
She fired.
Dozens of compressed water rounds tore through the air, each one shrieking like a blade. Afre leapt back, twisting his body as bullets ripped past his shoulders, grazing his arm and tearing open his coat. Ravena slammed her staff into the ground.
"Abyssal Guard!"
A dark, violet shield flared into existence in front of her, its surface rippling like thick oil. Water bullets struck it and exploded into steam, the force pushing Ravena back several steps.
Still—some slipped through.
Afre grunted as one round clipped his thigh, cutting deep despite being "just water."
"Tch—!" He hissed. "That's not normal water!"
"No," Ravena replied calmly, though sweat beaded at her temple. "It's shaped intent. Divine technique."
Naëlle didn't slow.
She moved like she'd done this before. Like she'd trained in places where hesitation meant death.
She leaned forward mid-skate, guns rotating in her hands as her voice rang out again.
"Water Stream Shots!"
The barrels glowed.
Then—
A single, razor-thin line of water erupted forward.
Not a spray.
A cut.
The stream carved through the ground like paper, slicing stone, splitting tree trunks clean in half as it traveled. The air screamed in its wake.
Ravena's shield flared violently as she barely managed to hold it up. The impact slammed into her barrier with a deafening crack, forcing her to dig her heels in. Afre dove behind her just in time, eyes wide with disbelief.
The stream passed.
Silence followed.
A long, smoking trench split the battlefield in two.
Broken trees collapsed. Stone hissed where it had been sliced clean.
Afre stared, chest heaving. "If that shield hadn't been there…"
Ravena lowered it slowly, her hands trembling just a little. "…We'd be dead."
For the first time, the smirk left Afre's face.
Naëlle finally stopped moving.
She skated to a halt, water swirling gently around her feet as she stood between them and Peterson's shielded form. Her guns remained raised, steady, her breathing controlled.
"You don't need to die here," she said calmly. "Turn around."
Afre laughed—but this time it was sharp. Dangerous.
"Turn around?" He wiped blood from his lip. "You really think you're enough to stop us?"
Ravena straightened, her staff pulsing with dark energy once more. Her voice was smooth, cold.
"You fight like someone who believes the path itself favors her."
Naëlle's eyes narrowed. "It does."
The two generals exchanged a glance.
Then Afre cracked his neck.
"I think," he said slowly, red aura beginning to leak from his body, "this is enough playing."
Ravena's power surged, dark purple energy coiling around her staff like a living serpent.
She smiled—wide and cruel.
"Let's show her," she said, "the power of the Zobop generals."
Their auras exploded outward.
Red.
Purple.
The ground buckled.
Naëlle tightened her grip, water rolling higher along her arms as she set her stance.
Behind her, Peterson's shield shimmered.
The clash was coming.
And there would be no retreat.
End of Chapter 52.