Two of the uninjured disciples quickly moved in to attack the grey-haired man that had just claimed their martial sister’s arm, his bearded mouth warped in a bloodstained snarl as he crashed into the sea of brawling forces below them with enough momentum to topple several disciples of the inner court. His figure suddenly appeared overhead as he leapt skyward to avoid the attacks of the two members of the Core, who had lashed out at him with skillful use of the Scarlet Serrated Hand martial skill that covered their hands in devious red energy, an indicator of higher levels of mastery as opposed to the swell of flushed skin and light films of light displayed by those of the outer and inner courts respectively.

A ring of vibrant energy exploded outward from where the Earl of Westerbrook had just been standing that bisected several dozen mindless boys and girls in an instant, many of which had been attempting to refine some of the countless victims of violence despite the danger around them.

Including their leader, the enemy commanders fled back into the main bulk of their army after the majority of the Blackmare stallions had been flattened into palpated flesh and broken bone, their riders sharing the same terrible fate due to the combined efforts of the disciples from the Core. So far removed from the main body of their allies, most of these warriors had been destined to die the moment that they embarked upon the suicidal charge meant to claim the lives of their black-robed foes.

“They sacrificed that entire unit to take out two of our strongest fighters, a decisive development if I’m any judge.” Sersa eyed her injured allies. “Now seems an opportune moment to make a move, don’t you agree?” She signalled for her war party to advance and then leapt forth from the tree’s uppermost branch. Landing with natural grace, she sprinted downhill at a speed that her small force of a thousand disciples could keep up with. She skirted the main battlefield and then veered to flank the enemy where their reserves lay in wait, confident in her own survival and caring not what happened to those that followed her.

“The nobles of this area seem particularly difficult to deal with.” Havel kept close to her as they hurried into the mass of frightened screams and dying voices. “We also stand to lose many.”

That is fine by me, brother.

Their arrival didn’t go unnoticed by the hundreds of armoured soldiers that hastened to form a defensive line in preparation for the momentary confrontation, for she had forgone the majority of militiamen for the trained knights and soldiers in reserve. A shield wall sprang up within a matter of moments, lengthy spears levelled through the gaps in their circular design.

Rather than respond to Havel, Sersa increased her speed by a dramatic margin. Narrowing her eyes, she completed a specific sequence of inner essence circulation and slammed her right fist forward as a flare of menacing red light seized her darkly-dressed silhouette. A massive serpent of suppressive scarlet energy shot forth at a tremendous speed, screams of terror rising up as its large fangs found several victims, its menacing maw breaking one steel-clad body after another with frightening efficiency. Dozens of weapons hacked and slashed at the rampaging beast that continued to lay waste to all around it, though most of the soldiers lacked the strength to leave more than a bloodless scratch upon its densely solidified body.

Sersa’s followers raised an anxious battle cry that was interlaced with a chilling, lustful anticipation for bloodshed. It took them a few seconds to catch up to her, but a multitude of martial skills tore into the defensive line that she had just disrupted as flashes of scarlet lit up the increasingly overcast landscape.

“Into the gap!” she projected loudly, jumping into the air and landing atop a second, larger snake. She sailed directly into the thick of things as the tyrannical manifestation of her initial martial skill continued to wreak havoc on those around her like a protective spirit. She could only maintain two serpents at a single time, unlike the great elders of the sect that were capable of controlling dozens with ease. Even so, the mid-to-lower level Profound Entry stage soldiers were incapable of withstanding the vicious bites of the snakes’ powerful jaws and the stunning impacts that they suffered each time the beasts slammed into those around them.

Over a dozen menacing serpents soared through the air at different sections of the battlefield like beasts of myth come to feast on the meager might of man. Hundreds more extended from the arms of countless inner court disciples among those that spearheaded the frontlines with the same savage abandon that saw so many of these deluded youths lying dead or dying upon the trampled earth. Sersa ignored the violent flashes of red and indigo light that filled her vision, shut off her mind to the almost tangible roar of human emotion that reverberated throughout the tumultuous countryside. She had just locked eyes with a black-armoured girl perhaps a year or two her senior that had just killed a dozen disciples with blood-curdling ease, her valiant form boasting a cultivation of the fourth level of Integration.

She’s stronger than she appears, Sersa thought. The more alert she grew under the older girl’s gaze, the more it became apparent that the leering young lady had to die.

The noblewoman had just sent out a large circle of violet energy with an abrupt flash, the thin disk cutting into several limbs and torsos as it drew a neat arc through the chaotic surroundings and returned to her upraised arm. Rather than disperse, the dangerous martial skill hovered a hand’s breadth above her upturned palm where it remained poised for another strike.

“Helda!” A young man’s voice rose above the tumult.

Sersa directed the large serpent that she stood atop to close in upon the girl in question at its maximum speed, dipping left and right, whirling about as it dodged several discs of deadly energy that had been launched at her from three different directions by supposed siblings of her current target. She secured her footing by melding the inner essence of her martial skill to that of the energy that she had gathered into her feet, and so was able to stay atop the creature’s back while entertaining creative maneuvers of evasion.

She directed the artificial monster to crash into the young noblewoman, who retreated backward with a flourish of sandy hair and a blinding flash of violet light. Sersa’s martial skill was disrupted as the great serpent fell into several sections before dissipating into nothingness, though she had leapt skyward in anticipation of this just a moment before impact. Now airborne, she summoned a torso-sized hand of demonic energy and kicked off of it so that she soared toward the retreating girl with a determined snarl on her smooth-skinned face.

Two young men at the second level of Integration appeared before her with hatred in their gazes, silver swords flashing as they made to impale Sersa through both of her breasts. Her spiritual sense prompted her to avoid their attacks with a sideways leap that carried her out of the path of two menacing snakes that suddenly appeared where she had just been standing, which wrapped around their bodies almost instantaneously.

After detaching from his prior engagement, Havel had leapt all the way over to where Sersa was warring and conjured two simple manifestations of the Scarlet Serpent Strike, the infantile version of the Scarlet Serpent Summoning skill that she had just made use of. He used these reptilian limbs to grab hold of the two young men, whirl on the spot and then hurl their black-armoured bodies over the heads of hundreds, even as Sersa continued on after the young noble of Westerbrook. Havel quickly followed after the two that he’d just thrown, weaving his way through the dizzying struggle only to disappear into the din of violence.

Sersa was surprised at the young woman’s speed as her target continued to evade pursuit in a cunning and spectacular fashion. Two discs of energy rotated around her at all times, ensuring that she killed or maimed countless disciples as she retreated throughout the battlefield with carefully plotted steps. What was more, the woman was somehow able to ensure that her martial skill didn’t harm any of her allies. This could only mean that she was consciously altering their trajectories while remaining conscious of her situation and the multitude of motion within her surroundings, something that even the most dextrous disciples found difficult to manage. It was only after a moment that she noticed a light film of energy emanating from the girl’s legs, a movement skill no doubt.

A tremendous cacophony shook the air from elsewhere on the battlefield as a massive Crippling Blood Palm bore down upon the grey-haired commander of the Haussians and smashed a crater of a handprint into the ground that sported a depth that was several paces deep. Dozens of combatants from both sides lay in barely visible piles of rent metal and crunched bone, their bodies so marred and mutilated that there was no telling which one belonged to the primary target of the attack.

The body of the core disciple that had just caused such a large commotion fell to the ground in two pieces, the man that he believed himself to have just killed entering a freefall from where he had just appeared at his side in midair. A great sword of shimmering steel appeared in the man’s right hand, slicing into the disciples around his landing point without missing a beat. Despite the image of valiance that he projected as he slaughtered his way through the crowd of screaming youths, his frame heaved and shook as he gasped for breath, evidently nearing the extent of his stamina.

Two more crashes signified the deaths of a pair of black-armoured youth that saw the brave commander dash away toward the two members of the Core that had just dispatched of his children. His legs were covered in thicker and more potent films of violet energy than the girl that Sersa was currently chasing, though she was growing tired of the vicious game of cat and mouse that she found herself locked in rather than making a significant impact elsewhere in the conflict.

Though she lacked a movement skill of her own, Sersa flooded her legs with thin layers of inner essence and then pushed her speed to its limits. Although she wasn’t able to catch up to the girl she was able to keep close enough to assault her with throwing knives at every junction, always with an eye for vitals. This made it more difficult for the girl to control her perpetual martial skill which was made evident as she accidently severed the leg of a militiaman while attempting to assist him.

Just as Sersa was about to pour all of her efforts into an all-out assault, an earthshaking crash echoed throughout the land from far off in the distance. So powerful was the sound that it forced a momentary silence upon the battlefield, though this was shattered almost immediately.

Although she was making headway with her current opponent her heart began to hammer in her chest as she recalled that the great elder had cautioned her that the Earl of Westerbrook wasn’t the greatest threat that she would have to face upon advancing to take the city, but that an old uncle of the current lord that reigned over a neighbouring region. According to the great elder this man was supposed to be assisting the CMA’s forces in the east, though the devastating reverberations that she had just heard could not have come from anyone within the Core, and they obviously weren’t the work of the bedraggled Earl.