A large figure forcibly made his way inside the Black Wolves' home. His hand alone was larger than almost half of Alice's height, at only four-foot-nine. He was armor-clad from head to toe as he pushed open the door.
He was so tall that even in front of the large double doors, his helmeted head was just barely visible. He stood at a staggering ten-foot-one in height beyond where Alice could see.
Her trembling had taken over her completely to the point she could hardly even stand. She fell backward onto her hind, pushing away with her hands and feet from the front door entrance.
The large male stepped inside with a deep, muffled quake from his black-armored foot. His other hand pressed onto the roof of the entrance and tore through it to allow his head in. His helm was shaped like a dragon's, and his features were even more menacing now as his face had come into view.
His eyes were pitch black, and his skin was as pale as snow; like a corpse that refused to die and came back a vampire. This man frightened Alice to the core as she persisted frantically in a back crawl. But the way he looked wasn't the only thing she feared, rather, it had also been what this man could do—and what he had done.
With her eyes watering and her body shaking uncontrollably, she barely uttered the words, "W-w-why… are y-you… Here, Drakthor?"
The large male, Drakthor, grinned, revealing his yellow daggered teeth. When he breathed, she could see the mist from his mouth as he spoke; mist of cool steam rather than hot breath. His voice was like large, rusted gears grinding in her eardrums, "Now, Alice… why so terrified? I only came to reclaim what's mine. You belong to me after all…" His heavy footsteps inched closer to her, like she hadn't been moving away from him. "Do you have any idea how hard you are to track? Who knew you'd be hiding in plain sight here in the Valley all this time…"
"H-How… how did you find me?" she asked, terrified.
Drakthor stepped closer as his heavy voice lingered in the air. Again, his giant footsteps shook the ground below. Alice tried to get up, but she was too frightened—too petrified even to speak straight or scream. Shock was finding her—too near, too soon.
This large, menacing man in front of her now… Why had it just been her alone here with him, of all people? Of all times?
"An anonymous tip… Now, be a good girl and just come with us. I promise, I won't trash the place if you're good mannered… well… maybe a little… What is this place anyway? Metallic features outside, gothic features inside… Tacky if you ask me…" He spoke so slowly it was almost irritating to her. But Alice could do nothing, let alone object him. His presence alone sucked away all the confidence she had—if there was any to begin with. He met his ominous eyes back at her after surveying the place. "And your outfit… what are you wearing, dear child?" His words felt as if they were crawling on her skin; goosebumps rippled throughout her like a disease.
Drakthor glanced back at the part of the door entry that he ripped open, and said, "Don't worry about the door. I'm sure whoever lives here with you will be so grateful that was all I did to the place, that is… if you don't resist. Last thing I want to do is hurt you again, dear Alice… That would be a shame. You need your hands to open doors after all… and other reasons…"
As Alice glanced past the large male to the side, she noticed, just outside the door, a horde of his fellow grunts, mage bandits, spanning out as far as her eyes could see.
How had they sneaked into this area without Code, Havoc, or Yuna noticing? Had there been a Sensory mage within their ranks that hid their presence? she thought. Even so, Sensory mages can only hide the presence of twenty or fewer other mages… There were hundreds out there. Regardless of how, this was not the moment to be alone at the Den.
She barely mustered the courage to stand even though she was afraid. Still shaking as she had begun to get up, her mouth twitched, looking like a thin squiggle on her face. When she met Drakthor's large, frightening eyes, her eyes watered even more as it felt like looking at an actual dragon.
"I—I…" her voice stuttered, eyes and body trembling.
"What's that? Speak up if you're going to talk, girl," he snarled intimidatingly, harsh rage aiding his still creepy voice, and that wicked smile remaining across his face—commanding her.
"I'm…" She closed her eyes in hope for courage she didn't know she had, pushing herself to speak, even against this monster of a man. "I'm… NOT GOING ANYWHERE WITH YOU!" She at last said, breath heaving afterward.
Drakthor stopped grinning and just stood there. Tall. Terrifying.
His pitch-black eyes shrunk, losing his patience, "No. This won't do…"
Without warning, he raised a large right arm, and the sound of a loud bang followed from behind him; the walls and front entrance of the place shattered, blasting away as the outside revealed. Like the mere pressure of his armor clanging had caused a shockwave with enough force to shatter the Den's walls. The blast was so harsh that Alice lost her balance again and fell to her hind, gasping upon landing.
Along with the morning sun and dust that entered the place, Drakthor's army had shone. Hordes of black-armored mage bandits riled behind him, feet away from the outside.
"You hear that, men!? Alice said she's not going anywhere with us… You all know what happens when one of my own resists me… right?" he shouted, and the mage bandits behind him vehemently roared. He looked back slightly at them when he spoke, and then shifted his attention back to Alice. "See? Even they agree. Looks like I'm going to have to break your arm, stupid girl."
He grew even more black armor then, etched abnormally in random places, interwoven between joints as it became like an organism on him. He shot out black spikes from his arms, and then raised one, swinging a haymaker onto Alice.
But suddenly…
The sound of metal clashing echoed as Alice knelt to her knees, unscathed… A shadow of a tall woman dressed in a maid's outfit hovered over her now; her short maid's skirt fluttered in view.
"Miss Alice, are you okay?" the tall maid asked worriedly. When Alice glanced up at her, she noticed her tied up purple hair with blue streaks. Her slender yet toned arm with faded tattoos extended onto a heavy steel beam she had used to block the armored swing.
"M-Milo!" Alice stuttered, relief in her tone.
"My apologies… I was doing some maintenance in the back when I heard you call me to get to the door. When I heard you cry out, I took a steel beam from the ceiling and rushed over here. I hope you'll forgive my lateness… I-I'll fix the beam later… and I'll fix the front entrance! But right now—" Milo's dark green eyes glinted as she faced this unwelcome visitor, interrupting her own thought. "A fully armed grown man swinging at a young, innocent girl." She straightened and flexed her hard-earned, toned muscles as she used the heavy beam to prop herself up, Drakthor's arm still pushing against it all the while. "You make me sick."
As she stood there now behind the steel beam—which was about an easy six feet to her—she stood her proud six-foot-five height to Drakthor's ten-foot-one, looking up at him with defiant eyes regardless of his towering, intimidating presence.
He cackled hideously, rusted gears grinding in Milo's ears. "Then take the strike on her behalf!"
He pulled his spiked, armored arm out from the beam and used the momentum to throw his other arm at Milo's exposed right. Milo shot her eyes at it, and once it made contact with her side, a white gas emitted from the strike and filled the place.
It spread like wildfire as Drakthor's arm came out the other side, having not hit anything but pure fumes.
Up on the stairs' landing, Milo knelt with Alice, who had her knees bent to her sides, sitting in a chaise on the floor. Milo had put a gas mask on her, which she pulled out from under her skirt. And Drakthor stood up straight, towering over the white gas, now eye level with Milo and Alice there on the landing.
"Gas Reaction magic, huh?" His helmet shut over his mouth and nose from both sides like mechanical moving pieces. "So long as I don't breathe this, it won't affect me, right?" he said, voice muffled by the armored mask.
"Miss Alice, please stay here. I will handle this intruder," Milo said, thinking of another way to fight this large male. He had already figured out that the gas had to be inhaled to have an effect. This gas, too, was Nullifying magic gas, but the effects themselves were nullified by the mask he wore.
I'll just have to burn that armor off then, she thought to herself. Releasing another type of gas from the pores of her skin—another white gas.
When Milo had fought Ophelia and Raeyn, she had a magic-infused weapon—a club that could change the colors of her gas's magic so that she could tell the difference between all of them. She didn't have that weapon on her right now, hence why she was using a steel beam instead, for she felt more comfortable fighting with something heavy to swing with.
She was at a slight disadvantage without that club, and had to remember which gas was emitted so as not to get Alice caught in the crossfire. This was going to be a test of her skill as a mage. No magical item to help. Just her and her raw, unaided magic.
As it should be. Gonna have to use my wits for this one, she thought again. She looked at Alice wearing the gas mask and said to her, "Whatever you do, Miss Alice, do not remove that mask, okay?"
Alice nodded and shuffled herself back some more on the landing. Milo focused back on Drakthor, and she dashed at him, steel beam to her side. It dragged and skidded as she pushed from the landing and propelled herself right to his large face, swinging the steel beam to the side of his head.
A direct hit, but Drakthor didn't move. His head was slightly tilted to the side, with the steel beam only managing to dent itself rather than him.
"Was that supposed to hurt, tall maid?" he mocked her as she stayed suspended there.
"No. This is." Milo replied as she pulled the beam backward, skidding on his helmet, and caused a spark, followed by a large explosion.
It engulfed him, and that should have blown off his head… theoretically…
His large body stood stationary as Milo hopped back down to the floor, the backs of her heels touching the foot of the stairs behind her as she slid. She watched to see if this giant of a human would topple over, his head still not in view behind all the smoke.
Then, a low chuckle sounded from behind the haze. "That tickled," he said hauntingly.
As the smoke cleared, Drakthor at last revealed, helmet fully closed now. The black armor he wore was almost like a mechanical suit, shifting pieces of itself wherever he needed them—like he controlled it by pure will.
What the hell? That blast should have cracked open his armor to the very minimum… and at point-blank… Should I have caused a bigger blast? No, that would have wrecked this whole entrance area of the Den, and potentially harmed Miss Alice… We've only just started our services; I can't afford to fail on the second day.
With no time left to think, Drakthor initiated, swinging a giant, armored arm at her. Milo dodged to her left, flipping, and shooting out her long legs. Despite her height, she was fairly agile.
She ran as Drakthor dragged that same arm through the floor, creating a ruined path in its wake. She then used the beam to push her to the side, avoiding its ravaging trail.
Away from the strike, she twirled her whole body, steel beam dragging behind her, and swung, creating a rippling explosion from the white gas in the space between her and Drakthor. The blast wave slammed into him, but his armor was still too thick.
My attacks aren't working… I need to switch it up, again, she thought. If heat won't do, then—
Her mind panicked a bit, even though her movements and fighting did not convey that. She emitted another gas as she continued to dodge his wide-range attacks. And as his fists damaged the inside of the place—she took mental notes on what she'd have to extensively repair later, all the while.
She dodged like an acrobat, and Drakthor's attacks were picking up speed; the black armor even stretched out to reach her in the form of extended spikes, limbs, and flying projectiles.
He mocked as she circled him, "Is running and dodging all you can do, tall maid?"
Milo clicked her tongue, and found herself in front of him once more. When he went for another predictable attack, she sped down the middle, under his legs. She slid below, then whipped her body back around with the steel beam carefully positioned just above her shoulders. Her long legs spread out as the momentum dragged her backward, and then she swung again toward Drakthor from behind. "Eat this!"
The steel beam spat static like hitting friction in the air, turning to ice with each spark until it reached Drakthor.
"Gas Reaction Magic: Frozen Death!"
Ice spread as she completed the incantation; a sudden cool breeze blew through the entrance hall, freezing Drakthor.
The cold blast and frozen ground surged outside, where the other mage bandits merely watched, unfazed as their leader had become encased in a roar of ice, turning him into a giant ice statue.
Alice watched from the sidelines, but she was not celebrating yet. She let out a muffled cry and began waving her hands at Milo.
"Don't worry, Miss Alice, it's over—"
She took off her gas mask frantically, yelling, "NO! FINISH HIM NOW!"
Milo's face morphed from a smile to shock as the air had begun to get warmer. When she whipped her head back at Drakthor's frozen state, the ice was melting and turning to slosh.
"I get it. Your gases cause a reaction to friction between it and physical objects, don't they?" Drakthor said as the sounds of grinding metal clanged over and over in their ears.
The sounds intensified until they realized what he was about to do—Milo having forgotten about the other gas that still lingered…
Shit! "Miss Alice—"
A violent explosion boomed from Drakthor's body. The blast surged, reaching even Alice from the landing she was on, but a rounder shadow of a male obscured her view… From where Milo was, just before the blast reached her, she was swept away by someone else who had arrived, having shielded her too.
It blew out the inner walls of the entrance hall, opening the side walls to the rooms behind them, charring parts of the ceiling, and further damaging everything else.
The black chandelier that Ryo loved so much had shattered into black crystal shards that glittered in the air, scattering throughout the place as smoke protruded out from the front of the Wolves' Den.
Drakthor stood amid it all; his evil smile and eyes glowed from the smoke in Alice's direction.
But when the smoke faded, what revealed to him was a shell of some beast on the landing, and Alice, protected behind it…
"Are you okay, Miss Alice?" Ulrich asked with his semi-transformed, armored back facing Drakthor.
He took most of the blast, but his intricate shell glistened as if no damage had been done. The burnt carpets streamed past him and Alice on both sides, leaving a trail of untouched floors from where she was, stretching behind her.
"I'm fine. Thank you, Ulrich…" she said with relief behind her frantic voice. "Milo!" She—"
"She's okay," he replied.
"But…"
"There's three of us, remember?"
As Milo rubbed her eyes, she whipped around in a panic, "Miss Alice!"
"Miss Alice is alright, big sis. Ulrich got to her," a petite female next to her said.
Milo looked back, and her dark green eyes reflected a young girl with pink and blue pigtails. "Kiki!"
Kiki turned her head to look at her sidelong, replying, "I was in the garden out back when I heard muffled blasts coming from here. We should have been here earlier… forgive our lateness."
"I'm just glad we're all here now to take on this asshole," Milo said.
Kiki faced Drakthor and spoke, "My, my… What a mess… How in Keeper's name are we going to explain this to the Black Wolves?"
As her gaze met his, her attention was taken to the outside. From there, one silhouette after another came into view from behind the continuously fading smoke.
"More useless maids? This is getting old fast," Drakthor mocked.
"Useless?" Kiki asked defensively as she lashed a pair of large garden shears she brought with her and cleared away more of the smoke. Her pink eyes glowered defiantly at her enemies.
"Ah… my apologies. How rude of me. I should have introduced myself first," Drakthor said, ignoring her outburst.
Then, as the smoke petered out, from the massive hole in the wall, hordes of mage bandits dressed in the same black armor appeared behind him. They entered the Den from the clearing; an overabundance of them, ranging from the hundreds, expanded out even into the groves they came from. It was unclear how many there actually were.
"I am Drakthor, and these are my Nightbanes." He spread his arms wide as his group slithered in, each as ugly as the next—not only from their looks, but also by the way they carried themselves.
"Did I ask?" Kiki spat. "You force your way into this home, and you have the nerve to mock courtesy? At least we were invited. Just who do you think you are, peasant?"
Drakthor roared in laughter. "You have spunk for a frail-looking girl. I can see in your eyes you have a rare ability…"
Kiki remained steady; her stance not shifting in the slightest.
"Of all the times that none of the other Black Wolves are here…" Milo said as her eyes scanned around; there were too many of them to count.
"True, but look at it this way, big sis…" Kiki stepped forward, dusting her pixie maid dress, "It seems we can extend our other services here."
Milo snickered. "Well, that's convenient, isn't it? After all…" she said as Ulrich retracted the shell from his partial transformation, turning around to finish her sentence. "Arabella Housekeeping isn't just a housekeeping service," he said pompously toward their foes.
"You can thank your sister, Belle, for this… We owe her and the Black Wolves our lives for this second chance. There's absolutely no way we're just going to let these thugs continue to trash this home!" Kiki added, speaking to Alice now and positioning herself with her 'weapon' of choice. "So please, Miss Alice, let us fight for you."
Kiki grabbed both hilts of her large garden shears and opened it. From the tip, a poof emitted, and a high-pitched laugh echoed from the bladed mouth, revealing a cartoon-looking shark. Hehehehe… it chuckled.
Kiki taunted Drakthor again. Her pink eyes sparkled as she challenged him, "Now… Since you like to come in numbers, why don't you try fighting us together, you rude guest? There's a reason we were chosen as the former Executives of the Blue Phoenix Knights."