《Magnum Opus》5.6
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As we entered one of the bigger streets of the south slums; there were about thirty people bunched together in groups, all staring at the monstrous scraper in the south crux. I noticed, they were prepared to fight, surrounded by small bundles of runes that looked like parts of a formation. But they looked just as worn out, and tired as we did.
Two men dressed in chunky metal armor stepping towards us, they said, “Who are you, and what happened in the south crux?”
Stepping forward to meet the two armored men, Alfred said, “We are a mixed group of trial participants, and the south crux is done for, a variant scraper queen was hidden there.”
With shouts of shock, coming from the group behind them, the man standing to the left said, “How could that be, I mean how could Eden miss a scraper queen.”
Looking slightly irritated, Alfred said, “It’s not just a scraper queen, it’s a variant.”
As the two groups were talking, cracks began to appear in the ground around them. With little warning, huge holes opened up, with swarms of scrapers flowing from them. Screeches rang out as spells, mana, and weapons of all sorts. Flashed out, biting into the bodies of the scrapers, but more scrapers filled the spots of their dead kin, pushing us into a circle, rounding us up.
A Woman dressed in a deep-blue robe Said, “Mikeal, we can’t keep doing this, there is no order everyone is fighting their own battle. While the scrapers are working as one unit, I can't believe I'm saying this but we need teamwork.”
The tall man to her right, stepping back from swing his morning-star, a crushed scraper body falling to the ground. He Said, “Selien, I take it you want me to do something about that then?”
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Flinging her glowing hands towards the scrapers to her right, long spears of ice piercing their bodies nailing them to the ground. Selien said, “Yes, just give everyone some breathing room, and then we can try to get everybody on the same page.”
Not looking happy about what she said, Mikeal said, “Fine, but I could have kept going.”
Swinging his morning-star around in a circle causing it to vibrate, and release a blinding white light. As a dome of mana flew from Mikeal’s body, pushing the swarm of scrapers away from the mess of people fighting them. A giant wave of mana rolled through the south slums; hitting the wards along its borders, causing sparks to fly through the air, and shockwaves making the ground ripple.
Cursing, righting themselves from the wave of toxic mana, continuing on their way. The two magi accompanying the proctor began to take this more seriously. Flying towards the south crux with the other two men in toe, their robes whistling in the wind, the proctor began to strategize.
Looking over the whole south slums, Proctor said, “Mential, you will be in charge of making sure that vile smog doesn't leave the crux. Yerian, you will aid me in taking this beast down, I want you to keep it from moving as best you can.”
In unison with tones of reverence, the duo said, “Understood, Procter.”
The robed man on the right, whose name was Yerian. Flying down, landing in the south crux as he began to glow, surrounded by a light-blue aura of mana. Thick chains of ice sprung up from the ground. Slicing through the queen scrapers body, binding her in place.
Mential, with his flapping robes picking up speed as grey-threads of mana flew from his body; Flying through the air, the grey threads began to bob, and weave through the cloudy-purple smog, stopping the cloud from spreading.
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The Proctor with his palms glowing began to chant in a foreign dialect. Causing a massive field of mana to descend on the south crux. Screeching, crying out in pain, and fear the queen scraper began to struggle against Yetrian’s ice chains; chunks of frozen scales falling off its body, as droplets of violet blood dripped down the chains causing them to steam.
Falling short of mana, everyone in the group was bone-weary, tired from the constant struggle.
With my eyes burning from the sweat dripping into them. Head pounding from exhaustion, I slashed out at one more Violet scraper, as it flew towards me; my breath hitched as I felt the ambient mana around me start to thin even more, from overuse. Barely squeezing enough together for a small blade, that just pushed the violet scraper sideways. A flash of bright red flame and the violet scrapers burn corpse fell to the ground. Falling to my hands, and knees my whole body shaking from fear, at how close to death I just came.
Turning my head to find Madison behind me, I said, “Thank.. You.. for the rescue!”
Looking at me, worry plainly written on her face, Madison said, “No problem, but take a break you look terrible.
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8 157Fort Geranium
'Mariana''Lieutenant''Admiral''Europa Airgetlam'Those are some of the names people have taken to calling me but it wasn't always like this. I used to lead a much simpler life as a florist but apparently fate didn't like that I was wasting my time. Cruelly was my life taken away from me and I found myself in another world with a different identity: Mariana Von Ulysses. Another world, another life, it's all the same to me. The only reason I ever became a florist in the first place was because it was an easy opportunity for me to live comfortably. That's really all I ever wanted, to live 'comfortably', and perhaps I didn't have any grand ambitions of my own but what's wrong with that? However this new world is hellbent on not letting me have it my way. Wave after wave of problems, from monsters to national politics, it seeks to drive me towards the center of all these inane drivel. If that wasn't bad enough, apparently humans are hated in this world, eh? I'm a human too... Fine, you want it your way world? If you push then I'll push back! I'll solve these problems the only way I know how: Flowers! Don't underestimate their poisonous attributes just because they have cute colors and girly patterns. Orcs? Elves? Humans? Fairies? Dwarves? Dragons? Titans? Celestials? Ascendeds? Gods? To stand before me means that they have forfeited their lives. I shall show them all, the deadliness of plants... The slow and agonizing torture of poison and venom, swirling within your system as you writhe in excruciating pain. It burns you from the inside with no escape. The only release from this hell would be 'death'. That is my power. In the end, the world does not seem to want to leave me alone. Thus I've come to a conclusion: the only way to make myself truly comfortable in this world is a hostile take over! So let me demonstrate their powers to you; I'll let you taste the reason why they call me the 'Flower of Malice'.
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