Vescrutia: Legacy

The outer edges of Helidor lay shrouded in twilight, the stillness of the night broken only by the distant rustle of leaves and the faint calls of nocturnal creatures. The threat of the Bhalian Empire loomed heavy in the air, though their forces had yet to arrive. Days ago, their warships had been spotted on the horizon, their imposing silhouettes a stark warning of the conflict to come. Since then, there had been no movement—only an oppressive silence that pressed down on the defenders of Helidor like a storm waiting to break.

Kamari, the warrior known as the Primal Fang, stood at the vanguard, a restless predator among his pack of hunters. The men and women under his command were seasoned warriors, handpicked from the Gilded Fang Guild, but even their skill paled in comparison to Kamari’s raw, untamed power.

Kamari was a sight to behold. Bare-chested, his sandstone skin glistened under the faint glow of the moon. Intricate tattoos sprawled across his torso, swirling patterns that told stories of ancient hunts, forgotten victories, and primal mastery. Scars intersected the ink, jagged reminders of battles hard-fought and harder-won. His long, brown hair, braided in places and unkempt in others, framed a face that bore an arrogant smirk, a man who knew he was the apex predator.

The fur pelt around his waist shifted with each movement, the only semblance of modesty he allowed himself. His feet, bare and calloused, pressed into the dirt, grounding him to the wilds he had long claimed as his domain. Kamari was untamed, a force of nature clothed in human form, and he carried himself with a confidence that bordered on disdain.

Behind him, his platoon of hunters moved with disciplined precision, setting up defensive lines and laying traps for the enemy. They worked silently, their faces set with grim determination, but their eyes often flicked toward Kamari with a mixture of awe and unease. They knew his reputation. They had seen him transform into beasts of legend, creatures whose power defied comprehension. To follow Kamari into battle was to march beside a storm.

“..idiots,” Kamari muttered, his voice low but carrying across the clearing. He crouched near the edge of a cliff, staring into the distance where the Bhalian warships had last been seen. The horizon was empty now, save for the faint shimmer of the sea under moonlight. “They waste their time with all this... preparation.” He rose, his movements fluid, almost feline. “I could tear through their ranks alone, end this invasion before it begins.”

One of his hunters, an elven warrior named Sai with sharp features and a bow slung across his back, dared to speak. “With respect, Primal Fang, the Bhalian forces are unlike anything we’ve faced. Their numbers alone—”

“Are meaningless,” Kamari cut him off, his voice a growl. He turned, his amber eyes blazing. “Numbers mean nothing when faced with true power. They will break, just as all others before them have broken.” He stepped closer to the elf, towering over him. “Do you doubt me?”

The elf shook his head quickly, averting his gaze. “No, sir.”

Kamari’s smirk returned. “Good.” He turned back to the horizon, his gaze narrowing. “Let them come. I’ll show them why Helidor doesn’t need walls or armies. All it needs...” He flexed his fingers, claws briefly sprouting before retracting. “...is me.”

His hunters exchanged uneasy glances but said nothing. They knew better than to question Kamari’s arrogance. It was not unfounded. Stories of his victories had spread far and wide, tales of him single-handedly taking down hydras, wyverns, and other monstrosities. Yet his power came at a cost. Kamari was no ordinary shapeshifter. To take on the form of a creature, he had to first consume a part of it. Over the years, he had hunted and devoured thousands of mystical animals, his body a living repository of their essence. His transformations were unparalleled, seamless, and devastating.

Kamari rolled his shoulders, his muscles rippling like coiled steel. He was restless, eager. He turned to his second-in-command, a stoic huntress named Ella, who was busy overseeing the placement of traps.

“Ella!”, he called, his tone lighter but no less commanding. “When the first wave comes, be sure to stay out of my way.”

Ella arched an eyebrow but didn’t look up from her work. “You’re assuming they’ll send more than one wave.”

“They’ll have no choice after I’m done with the first,” Kamari replied, his smirk widening to his fangs. “But if they’re smart, they’ll turn tail and run before they even get here.”

Ella sighed, adjusting the placement of a tripwire. “Arrogance is a fine cloak, Kamari, but it won’t shield you from a Bhalian blade.”

Kamari laughed, a deep, feral sound. “Ye' of little faith.. don’t need shielding. Let them come..”

The Primal Fang stood ready, not yet tested but eager to prove his supremacy. For now, the night was quiet, the anticipation of battle thick in the air. Kamari’s senses, honed beyond mortal comprehension, remained on high alert, his every instinct coiled like a spring. The Bhalian warships were out there, silent but looming, and Kamari was prepared to show them that Helidor was far from defenseless.

The skies over Helidor were a study in dread, painted in an ominous crimson hue that bled into the horizon. Soon.. the faint shimmer of sunlight dimmed, strangled by the hulking form that emerged from the ether like a predator uncoiling from the shadows. The Crimson Cloud descended slowly, its immense silhouette blotting out the heavens as it parted the clouds with an eerie grace. It was monstrous warship, a fortress in the sky, bristling with runic artillery and a deadly aura.

Its dark hull bore the sigils of the Bhalian Empire—red and black, symbols of conquest and dominion. For days, it had been a phantom, cloaked in arcane secrecy, a lingering dread whispered among the watchful guards of Helidor.

–Now, it made its presence known. Its arrival not merely an act of war, but a statement of inevitability.

From the ship's command center, Commander Delion stood motionless, his broad frame encased in pristine, gilded armor that reflected the cold, flickering glow of the consoles surrounding him. His hands rested behind his back, his demeanor calm, almost regal, as he peered at the kingdom below through the warship’s crystalline viewing panel.

Helidor stretched out before him, the golden gates gleaming defiantly in the waning light, its walls resolute against the growing shadows of encroaching night. But Delion’s expression betrayed no concern—only certainty.

"They'll crumble," he muttered to himself, the words barely more than a whisper. His sharp eyes, like tempered steel, left no doubt.

He straightened and spoke, his voice resonating like a blade drawn from its sheath. "Open the latches."

The officers around him moved with the precision of a well-oiled machine. Switches were flipped, and a series of ancient incantations rolled off tongues in disciplined unison. The air vibrated with the hum of arcane machinery as mechanisms stirred to life.

The sound of grinding metal whined, and the ship's underbelly began to split.. From its depths, legions of soldiers spilled forth like a living flood.

Ropes unfurled, warriors soared downward on enchanted gliders, and platforms of shimmering energy carried troops in disciplined waves. The ground trembled beneath the sheer weight of their landing, the cacophony of boots striking soil drowning out the distant cries of startled wildlife. Tens of thousands descended—a symphony of death and discipline under the shadow of the Empire.

Each soldier bore the unique marks of their homeland, a mosaic of elven tribes unified under Bhalia’s banner. Sylva Dryads, their forest-green leathers blending seamlessly with the dim light, darted like shadows, bows slung and arrows gleaming with deadly precision. Vulqin Salamanders, towering and broad, stomped forward with war axes resting casually on their shoulders, their crimson scales reflecting the faint glow of torchlight. The J’oro, spectral figures with cobalt skin and eyes as dark as midnight, moved silently at the periphery, their twin daggers flashing like lightning.

At their forefront walked Jack, the Frostjack, an elven warrior whose mere presence chilled the air. His skin shimmered as if kissed by eternal frost, and his silver hair glinted under the fading sunlight. His eyes, an unnatural blue, glowed faintly, exuding a cold intensity that rivaled the biting winds of a blizzard.

He moved with the casual ease of a beast confident in its superiority. Frost curled in tendrils around his feet, snaking into the earth and sapping it of warmth. The grass withered in his wake, a harbinger of his power. His garments, spun from enchanted silks, clung to his form like ice on a statue, reflecting light in sharp, dazzling patterns.

He halted, raising one hand lazily. Above his palm, a spiraling shard of ice coalesced, its edges razor-thin and glistening like a fragment of the moon. He crushed it between his fingers, the mist cascading in a cold breath around his face.

"Finally," Jack whispered, his voice cutting through the air like a glacial wind. "Showtime."

He turned toward the sea of soldiers gathering at his back. His lips curved into a demented smirk, revealing teeth as sharp as his intent.

"Onward, men!" His voice rose, commanding and frigid, carrying the weight of authority and bloodlust. "You lot have your orders. No surrender. No retreat. And for the love of the Zenith, try and stay outta' my way. This shouldn't take long."

As the troops surged forward, a low rumble began to rise from the advancing army, a collective war cry that grew in power and ferocity. Jack led them, his frosted steps burning an icy path into the heart of the kingdom.

—Above, the Crimson Cloud hovered like a malevolent god, its presence casting a shadow that promised destruction.. before it faded beneath its cloaked veil once again.

The invasion of Helidor had begun, and the storm of Bhalian might was about to be unleashed.

"There's no turning back now."

Her lone thought as the B'halian empire touched down on the soil of Muu. Their unified march was like a mighty cadence of thunder trekking upon the earth, each step carrying the weight of their dreams and devotion to their purpose. To see the era of man wiped from the history book and its first inheritors, to enjoy a world free of their meddlings. This was no longer just a movement of blind hatred for Kilik. Though the waves of that fury still crashed upon the boundaries of her being, she had learned to fashion it like a well-tempered metal, creating a blade of resolute will that would cleave through this tainted world. Humaniy's existence, or soon to be lack thereof, was but only one of the ways the planet needed to be healed. What she desired was to live in a world free of impurity. One where the ocean did not suffer from waste, one where her people were not hunted to near extinction, one where the mighty thrived, their right to exist pathed with their own bloodied efforts. That was a true world, that...was a just world, and it would be by Akundae's design that such a vision would seep from beneath the veil of imagination and take root as an unresolvable truth.

She knew that though her father may not have fully understood her aims nor agreed with her reasoning, but even he could see the effect of allowing mankind to continue. Kilik once ran away from the grove, ready to bury them in the rivers of her past to protect them. At the time, she sought sanctuary from her lack of control. However, she soon learned that there was no escape from it...your destiny. It was in this that she felt she understood her mother the most. What she was willing to do was the stake she was willing to bear to protect that which she loved. Her home, her family. Kilik recognized that achieving enough power to slay Zero would inevitably change nothing. It would only be a matter of time before another fool attempted to take something that did not belong to them. But in the world the Zenith dreamed of, reflected in how B'halia stood defiant and absolute in its existence, each being received what they needed to become a substantial piece of the whole. Their talent, which made them culturally unique, was expounded upon and dug deeper until a nearly entirely new concept of potential was rooted from within. B'halia itself stood as a reflection of progression, yet honoring the founding pieces of the various elvn pasts, it was a font of evolution...and Kilik was ready to evolve.

"Let's go, Orvyn."

Her draconic spirit roared with ambition as she fell leisurely from the skies after her platoon and the others. Her order was to breach the golden gates and open the path for the invasion to stampede through the city, and she planned to do just that. Her partner in this, the frost jack, was already upon the earth, and his frosty influence was beginning to flourish. As she fell to the world below, perform radiated a sparkling gleam that made her resemble a falling star. Her shinjustu was being called upon as she weaved a set of Kira. The light grew as she prepared to unleash heritor, and a grandiose glyph of dazzling magic infested her as she called forth her mystic abilities.

"Noa Sozu"

Invoking her draconic nature, her magic filtered through her scales like a blazing coral comet.

"Cascading Meteror!!!"

From the womb of the glyph, a furious deluge of water swirled spherically, casting a menacing shourd of darkness over the area where the gate was. Yet it did not remain such for long, for the moment she reached the ground, she clenched tight her hand, causing the orb to condense to the size of a large cannonball. Her eyes flashed a bright coral color before the arbiter was fired upon impact would unleash a bastion of tsunami-like force aiming to wound mortally, if not flat out completely shatter the golden gate that stood so defiantly before them.

The ground trembled as Kilik's Cascading Meteor surged forward, a devastating wave of water and magic aiming to obliterate Helidor's golden gates. The sphere of condensed energy shrieked through the air, its darkened form promising destruction upon impact. The soldiers of Helidor braced for the inevitable, their eyes wide with fear and defiance, but one figure remained unfazed.

Kamari, the Primal Fang, stood atop a craggy outcrop overlooking the gates, his arms crossed over his bare, chest. His long, unkempt hair whipped around him as he watched the approaching onslaught, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He had waited for this moment, for the B'halian forces to make their move, and now, it was finally here.

With a swift, fluid motion, Kamari leaped from his perch, his body twisting mid-air as he transformed. His form shifted rapidly, muscles rippling and expanding as molten scales surfaced along his limbs. In the blink of an eye, he became a massive, reptilian fire born monstrosity—he grew six arms, pronged horns and eight angry eyes gleaming with predatory focus.

He landed with a thud in the path of Kilik's blast, his clawed feet digging into the earth as he roared, the sound reverberating like thunder. Without hesitation, Kamari lunged forward, his massive form colliding with the incoming sphere. His body released a blistering wave of heat that dispersing Kilik's attack into a obscuring field of steam that wafted along the battlefield.

As the steam began to clear, Kamari could be seen reverting back to his human form, no longer wearing any clothes. He didn't know Kilik or who it was that fired the first attack, but his lips curled into a grin filled with deviant exhilaration.

"Oh no.. Don't tell me that's the best you've got, B'halian?" Kamari's voice was a low, rumbling growl, filled with both mockery and exhilaration as he watched the encroaching soldiers. "You'll need more than a little splash to take down Helidor's gates."

The B'halian forces, momentarily stunned by the sudden appearance of the Primal Fang, hesitated, their march faltering. Kamari took a moment to revel in the disruption before his gaze hardened, his voice echoing over the battlefield.

"Come then, all of you!" Kamari roared, his claws digging into the ground as he prepared for the oncoming horde. "Show me what makes the Empire so feared!"

Amassing behind the Primal Fang is what made up Helidor's Vanguard— a horde of skilled hunters ready to die at the Gate. Sai had disappeared from sight entirely using powerful spell that concealed her. Ella remained with a platoon of soldiers stationed closer to Helidor's boarders. They were mostly medics and were far enough to send warning of the Empire's arrival. There were perhaps a total of a hundred bodies designated to Kamari's watch, but none of them were as important as the Primal Fang. And he bore the weight of the world on his shoulders with a conceited smile..

The battlefield, now shrouded in thick steam from the violent collision of fire and water, fell into a tense silence. The B'halian soldiers, moments ago marching with unshakable resolve, found themselves hesitating, their steps faltering as they processed the sudden turn of events. Kamari's transformation into a molten six-armed titan and his effortless dispersal of Kilik's devastating attack had momentarily thrown them off balance.

Among the ranks, the FrostJack—Jack, stood with an expression of mild amusement, his icy eyes reflecting the chaos unfolding before him. His troops, an assembly of seasoned warriors from various elven tribes of Bhalia, shifted uneasily, some gripping their weapons tighter, others glancing at one another with silent questions.

Jack exhaled a plume of frosty breath, breaking the silence with a dry chuckle.

"Well, aren't you something," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. He glanced at his soldiers, his smirk growing as he noticed their unease.

"Oh.. relax," Jack drawled, his voice carrying a casual arrogance that seemed to cut through the tension. "..did you expect these humans to simply lie down and die? Nothing worth doing is going to be easy.." His tone, light and mocking, was laced with a confidence that bordered on dismissive. "If anything, this just makes the day a little less boring. Lucky us, right?"

He turned his attention to Kilik, who hovered above, her gaze locked on Kamari. Jack's smirk widened. "You there! He called out, his voice barely cutting through clamor and noise. Jack had never made her acquaintance prior to today, but he was given notice of her accomplishments before embarking on his current tour. A Nissagro.. Delion's personal pet.. an outsider who some how gained the Emporer's pardon. She was.. smaller than he imagined.

"Looks like your playdate just got a lot hotter.. Care to give it another go, or should I cool him off for you?"

Kilik watched as the arbiter screeched through the battlefield with nothing to forestall its approach, certain that the eruption of force would serve its purpose and see those gilden gates shattered, however, out of seemingly nowhere a monstrous configuration of molten flesh and burning scales appeared. Even from here, she could feel the ebbs of it's primal force standing against her spell with vicious denial. The sound of its roar sent a wave of invigoration through her.

"A shifter? I suppose there's a reason you've all lasted this long."

She said more so to herself as she leisurely drifted to the ground. Her piercing cherry blossom eyes cut through the thick of the steam landing squarely on the Primal Fang. His form was ripe with power practically boiling over with naten.

"Do not be fooled Kilik, I cannot be certain, but there is the blood of the old world flowing through him.."

"A Primordial?"

"No, but not too far off from the time we once roamed this world as stewards of the elements."

"Whatever he is, he will fall..."

He turned his attention to Kilik, who hovered above, her gaze locked on Kamari. Jack's smirk widened. "You there! He called out, his voice barely cutting through clamor and noise. Jack had never made her acquaintance prior to today, but he was given notice of her accomplishments before embarking on his current tour. A Nissagro.. Delion's personal pet.. an outsider who some how gained the Emporer's pardon. She was.. smaller than he imagined.

Her train of thought was interrupted by Jack's snide voice. Being so close to him now she could feel it, the frozen fury chilling in his veins spoke of another old power. To what degree he could wield it however remained to be seen. Though Delion spoke highly of him Kilik was more concerned with seeing his skills play out in action than affirming words.

"Looks like your playdate just got a lot hotter.. Care to give it another go, or should I cool him off for you?"

"The first spell was just to test their defenses, force them to reveal their skills to us or suffer for their silence."

The air began to rumble as her magic began to gurgle within her.

"This time, we attack together, let us see how far they will go to protect their precious gate,"

The area became ripe with her magical affluence.

"I hope you've got a bite to match that frosty bark of yours....you might want to tell your men to step back"

Kilik's scales began to emit an ominous spectral gleam almost. Applying her Shinjustu as she conjured the spell. Wrymspeech is an ancient patois spoken by a forgotten species of Dragons who reflected the elements that once safeguarded the natural world. Now, with their Elden legacy coursing through her she stood as their inheritor her purpose to preserve and endow the natural world by freeing it of this malignant tumor of humanity. She would not hold back what she fought to achieve, her purpose, and her will. With a harrowing determination, she deeply inhaled, feeling all of Orvyn's draconic spirit storming within her like a turbulent maelstrom of old power. As her draconic aura manifested around her becoming viable to the entire battlefield.

"NOA BANYUA"

The earth rumbled from under her its great tremor creating splinters in the surface. Around her magical glyphs, a tower of water the like of which could engulf the battlefield, wiping the slate entirely clean if she chose to expand like in the training match last year. However, that was not her aim, if this shifter would deem himself the Sheild of Helidor in defense of their aims, then she would serve as the spear of B'halia, and thus her magic would reflect this resolve. She took to the skies once more, this time rising with the growing tower of swirling waves. Using her Shinjustu Kilik found herself able to control the power of her draconi invocations with far more precious. However, her grip on her draconic inheritance was far superior in comparison to when she first came to the empire. That blood, the tears and lamentations echoed within her deepening her resolve. Allowing her to unleash devastating techniques at Bea-level speeds without sacrificing their power, now able to shoulder the cost of such conjuring.

Nothing was going to stand in her way, ever again.

The tower of water began to coalesce between her palms condensing it to the size of a small boulder, her seamless magical weaving of waves bewildering her squad with a sense of awe

"ORDAINCE OF ORVYN!!"

It was then that a glyph manifested before she fired a barreling ballistic beam of highly pressured water magic. A devastating technique on its own however with Jack here and if Dleion's intel was correct, he'd know just what to do with what Kilik just gave him.

The steam dissipated, leaving the air thick with tension as Kilik hovered above the battlefield, her expression twisted in frustration. She turned to respond to Jack's snide remark;

"The first spell was just to test their defenses, force them to reveal their skills to us or suffer for their silence."

The air began to rumble as her magic began to gurgle within her.

"This time, we attack together, let us see how far they will go to protect their precious gate,”

But Jack was admittedly taken aback.

“Wait– really? You're joking..” Jack drawled, his voice laced with condescension. He half expected Delion's secret apprentice to take acception to someone shading her ability. But perhaps Kilik was less meat headed than the rest of Jack's contemporaries. Him included.

“Teh, thought you were supposed to be impressive but..”

His snide remark elicited cheap laughs from the warbreed soldiers surrounding him. Jack sighed, shaking his head slightly. "I mean.. I usually don’t get involved in… cooperative efforts," he mused, his tone dripping with reluctant disdain. "But, seeing as you’re clearly out of your depth.."

He stepped forward, ice spreading beneath his feet with each casual stride. The soldiers behind him watched in awe as their commander exuded a cold authority that chilled the air around him. He was horrifyingly poised and suave, despite his rather grisly reputation.

Jack watched as Kilik's spell ripped through the skies like a blister of color. The pressure radiating from the blast eroded the terrain beneath it in its rapid approach toward Helidor's gates. And with a subtle wave of his wrist, Jack amplified its power. Kilik's blistering beam of water surged forward like a tidal wave frozen in time. He'd ballooned its radius and destructive capability nearly a hundred fold, an act that dropped the temperature throughout the battlefield into a sudden winter.

The B'halian soldiers watched in silent anticipation, their breaths visible in the suddenly cold air. They created a necessary perimeter behind Jack following Kilik's warning, and the frigid steam rolling from Jack's body. None of them were foolish enough to stand in the way of two titans. They'd simply wait for their mark.

The combined blast of water and ice surged forward with devastating force, a torrent of raw elemental energy aimed directly at Helidor’s golden gates. Kamari, as the spell neared, quickly realized the sheer magnitude was beyond even his formidable strength to counter alone.

It moved almost too quickly for him to track, but as the blast reached the gates, it collided with an unseen force and dispersed harmlessly in a dazzling display of steam and frost. The ground trembled as the energy dissipated– frost and vapor amassed at the site but the gates still stood untouched.

—Back within the headquarters of the Gilded Fang Guild, Azele’, the Spectral Fang, stood at the center of a complex ritual circle with her hands outstretched and her body glowing with an ethereal light. Her eyes were closed, focused entirely on maintaining the powerful barrier she had cast over Helidor, a shield woven from her life force and bound to the very essence of the city.

—Kamari, sensing the source of their salvation, glanced toward the distant tower where Azele’ worked her magic. The strain on her was palpable even from where he stood. The barrier she had erected was impervious to spells, but..

"Azele'... you really have that little faith in me?"

Kamari murmured, his voice a mixture of admiration and concern. He knew a technique of that magnitude would kill her out of strain alone.. He knew she couldnt keep this up, but she was willing to do so to keep her Guild safe.

"Tch! I wish you'd stop worrying so much.” He lamented to himself, clenching his fists as he glared at the sea of enemies. “Don't worry..I'll prove you wrong. I'll prove that I'm all Helidor needs.”

With the barrier holding for the moment, Kamari redirected his focus and sought to go on the offensive. His eyes mutated into something gold and inhuman as they scoured through gathered army insearch of whom they called leader. He soon found Kilik, the origin of the water spell, and misjudged her as the leader of the Bhalian infantry.

There.

Kamari whispered to himself, allowing his eyes to revert to their natural auburn hue.

"Oh, what a shame. Looks like your little tricks won't work!" Kamari roared, his voice loaded with a mocking fury. "And even worse for you guys, now it's my turn!”

In an instant, his form began to shift, his legs mutating into a monstrous amalgamation of animalistic power. Veins bulged under his now ivory-colored flesh, his height stretching to nearly eight feet. His legs coiled, brimming with unnatural speed and strength.

Without hesitation, Kamari launched himself forward, his powerful legs propelling him across the battlefield in a single bound. Morphing him into a streaking blister of color nearly imperceptible to the eye. In seconds, he was inches away from Kilik's face and already in mid swing, attempting to rip the Nissagro Elf's head clean off with a slicing kick of otherworldly might before her peers even knew what happened.

She let his snide comments roll off her scales. The Nissagro warrior's skin wasn't so easy to get under her survey of the enemy's capabilities took precedence. Whether by her will or his own mattered little, he responded as needed and did exactly what she needed him to do, add his naten to the assault to create a combined arbiter of frosty devastation the likes of which even their pet dinosaur would have trouble handling all by himself. And yet, once again her magic saw itself snuffed out by their defenses. This time it dispersed before ever reaching the gate, though she could not see the means with which they achieved such a thing, but it wouldn't take a rocket scient to figure out it was a barrier of some kind...what was disturbing was the sheer strength of it....the one behind it must have been a formidable creature indeed.

"Tch"

She said as the spell created a field of chilled vapors...

"They have some kind of mechanism protecting the gate...I can't see it, but I felt my magic...cease to be.."

She spouted to Jack it was then that for a single moment, she felt an incredulous blood lust, like the eyes of a tiger hidden having decided on its prey. This spark of awareness trained her eyes on Kamari who in a perilous display of sheer speed and brute strength was upon her, his powerful grotesque leg aimed for a devastating kick one with enough force to clear practically anything in its way. However, Kilik was no stranger to facing foes of unparalleled strength, for her own body was crafted from the clay of one of the world's eldest lineages enhanced by the special nanotech grafted into her body armor. It responded to the threat by using her naten to embolden her already incredibly resilient scaled flesh providing her a stalwart disposition to stand against this mighty blow. Just before he made contact she would invoke her anthem, Ryujin Fantasia, willing her dragon scales, clad in dwarven B'halian metals, to form a shield that she used to block the blow. In that moment the scales on her backside knitted together to create a large barbed dragon tail. Without a second to spare she, the tail snaked from behind her trying to impale her assailant while sending its bone-crushing force smashing into him.

"A Dino-Dog, how cute..."

Kamari’s foot met Kilik’s amorphous scales with crushing force, but rather than shattering her defense, his strike was halted by the shifting mass of her enchanted flesh. The impact sent tremors through her body, but she remained standing, absorbing the blow with inhuman resilience.

Before Kamari could follow up, a glistening tail—formed of the same mutable scales—lashed out from behind Kilik, spearing toward him like a harpoon. The attack came fast, cutting through the air with a sharp whistle, aiming straight for his midsection.

But Kamari was faster.

Rather than retreat, he planted his foot against Kilik’s makeshift shield and, with the monstrous strength in his legs, kicked off of it, propelling himself high into the air. The force of his leap was tremendous, and was intended to have Kilik rocketing backward, skidding across the battlefield, her feet digging trenches into the dirt.

The sheer shockwave from their clash burst outward in all directions, sending loose debris hurtling through the air and forcing nearby soldiers to raise their arms in defense.

Kamari landed gracefully several yards away, his freakish legs still pulsating like vascular tree trunks. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck before fixing his golden, predatory gaze on Kilik.

“That it?” he scoffed, the corners of his mouth curling into a smirk. “I expected more from the B’halian Empire. Instead, I get—what? Some fish-scaled upstart?” His voice oozed condescension as he gestured lazily in her direction. “Tell me, who the hell are you supposed to be?”

He took a slow step forward, savoring the moment. “And while we’re at it—why is your precious Empire here, exactly? Looking to get humiliated?” His eyes glowed brighter, filled with both challenge and amusement. “Or is this some kind of sad, last-ditch effort?”

His voice carried across the battlefield, his words meant not just for Kilik but for every B’halian soldier watching. He wanted them to hear their so-called warrior be put on the spot, to feel the weight of his mockery. The surrounding soldiers were faceless to him. Meaningless Cannon Fodder. She was the big dog here.. and so was he.