Neith lands beside Serrentuk as the boulder settles into place thanks to the elven sorcerer’s magic. He takes a breath and sighs as he stretches.

  “Spirits of Rest and Fervor… I thought she had me a couple of times there…”

  “Stay on guard,” replies the ancient sage with a serious tone. He still has his staff at the ready, watching the boulder and muddy mess of water around it without so much as a glance away. “Normal humans are tenacious. Zuzia has innate blessings beyond the readily apparent. I will be surprised if this is enough to contain her.”

  As if to confirm the elven sorcerer’s ill-omen, the water around the bottom of the boulder bubbles, while a slurping sound comes from the mud. Zuzia is still thrashing and fighting to escape, and there’s a very real possibility she can dislodge the boulder if things go her way.

  Or, with the strength she possesses, smash it into pieces with one swift strike.

  “I can try to close the ground in around her to pack her back in,” offers Neith. “Or, I can drive the boulder downwards.”

  Serrentuk scoffs. “We are trying to rescue Zuzia, as tragic as the means to reach that end are.”

  Neith drinks another healing potation while they have an idle moment. He sighs, since the small phials of liquid are highly alcoholic. He flexes his shoulders and wings, trying to loosen back up. “Speak for yourself. I think she’s succumbing to madness and actually trying to kill me.”

  “The world they come from is peaceful. Fair Zuzia has had a harrowing…” Serrentuk pauses, and both of them go on guard again.

  The boulder just shifted.

  It wasn’t a slow sink into the hold. It was a jolt as if it was struck from below.

  Neith warns as he steps a few paces away from the elf, “Most of my magic is meant to bring death or do a lot of collateral damage. I’m pretty much stuck with what I’ve been doing.”

  “What you have been doing is enough. Do not get far enough away that her contract sees it as you having escaped, and avoid being caught in any grapples. I should be able to help you with the rest.”

  There’s a deeper, more audible thud, and both of them jolt, ready to spring into action in direct response.

  “Lightning. Avoid the water.” Serrentuk’s multi-mind doppelganger immediately starts chanting, and a magic circle appears above the boulder. He amplifies it heavily with a massive amount of mana that makes Neith’s scales feel clammy and tight. It’s not quite as bad as the strange mana, but if anyone can approach that level of raw magical power in a single spell, Serrentuk’s competition is likely only Senn herself and Hekate.

  Ah, where were you during the times of Morthybargaron, ponders the dragon as he watches.

  With a flash that catches Neith’s self-darkening eyes faster than they can react, the full might of nature itself descends into the stone, crackling and hissing as it electrifies the entire pool of water.

  And, seconds later, the entire column of water inside the hole explodes like a pipe-bomb as it flash-vaporizes into steam. Two barriers protect Neith and Serrentuk from the shockwave and shrapnel blasted outwards, cast by the second of Serrentuk’s split-minds. His main voice focuses on his staff and circling it around. Even in the seconds following the explosion, while the boulder soars high into the sky, water droplets both newly summoned and pulled from the air start to form and grow, swirling quickly into one location.

  The magically-levitating fluid envelops the falling body of a dazed otherworlder human, sealing her in a large, floating bubble of water. She managed to cough once, which was hoarse and strained, before the water captured her once more.

  “Now!” shouts Serrentuk.

  There’s a white flash, and an elemental magic shot descends from the sky, where a shuttle has been orbiting with its lights off to remain hidden from Zuzia. She shouldn’t be compelled to attack anyone other than Neith, but they remained cautious, because the soldiers that accompanied Serrentuk to the battlefield have no way to defend themselves.

  The elemental blast explodes with a white-blue energy, and it immediately starts freezing the whole orb of water solid as Zuzia’s struggling fades. Because she’s suspended in water being orchestrated by Serrentuk, she can’t ‘swim’ out of it, because he simply moves its form. She can’t break free because he is more or less ‘pulling’ the water to her like gravity. So long as he has mana, she won’t be able to fight back.

  “Again!” shouts the elf.

  The shuttle has already circled a quarter radius around the water sphere, and the dattakorien soldier aboard fires again. The sphere is quickly freezing due to the immense magical energy present in each shot. Serrentuk has a lot of mana, but he won’t be able to suspend Zuzia forever. And, he’s unsure how long she can resist asphyxiation.

  Her feet stop kicking, and a third ice blast encases the whole orb in solid ice, obscuring their vision inside due to the rapid, uneven freezing of the water.

  Still, it should be stable enough for Serrentuk to set down, and he eases the spiky containment to the ground.

  This time, it’s Serrentuk’s turn to sigh from exertion. “I haven’t worked this hard in ages.”

  “Same here,” replies the dragon. “I worry about whatever it is Lady Amalaskae believed Lady Zuzia was going to fight.”

  The elven sorcerer chuckles softly in turn. “It must be a fearsome foe indeed. Unless she was intended to singlehandedly defeat the whole of the Fievegal.” The ancient sage gives a glance at the grey knight, who returns the sideways look. They return their focus to Zuzia’s cryogenic prison, unsure when to determine if she’s defeated.

  “Can’t you capture her in Gate now, Lord Serrentuk?” asks Neith as they wait.

  “Difficult to say. She is highly resistant to it, and a failed attempt to capture her will deplete my mana beyond a second attempt.”

  The dragon tosses a phial to the elven sorcerer. “Here. I don’t know how long you were out of commission, but that should help.”

  Serrentuk leans his staff on his shoulder, opening the small glass container. He doesn’t even need to make an effort to catch a whiff of the contents, which make him recoil.

  “I know,” replies the dragon. “But, they work. Gulp it down fast, and it should restore your mana pretty quickly.”

  “Hmm… That seems rather convenient.”

  “Then let me correct myself; it’ll give you some mana. It’s not consistent for any one user.”

  The elf sighs and takes a drink. Just as he’s forcing it down, though, there’s a foreboding sound.

  The ice sphere just rumbled, and a fissure has marred its surface.

  “We’re going to die…” jokes Neith.

  “As I said. Tenacious,” replies the elf. He tosses the phial aside and regains his grip on his staff. “I’m going to focus on impact spells, mostly with rock. If she parries or catches them, be ready to dodge.”

  “Understood. I’ll try to give you cover with fire and smoke.” Neith takes off into the air, but little do the two warriors know, it’s already far too late.

  ***

  Moments before, Zuzia can feel the darkness fully gripping her mind. It even feels like the pitch black of everything has been enclosed with static as her brain threatens to shut down. She briefly caught a single breath, but she was quickly enclosed again, and this time, she can feel cold squeezing in on her, and her movements are once more restrained. She’s not sure if she has the strength to go on.

  She knows she has to lose. Her rational mind is completely aware of the need for her to be captured.

  But, she wants to live.

  She desperately wants to avoid dying.

  No matter how rotten she felt when she killed Serrentuk, or the enemy soldiers, or even that evil dragon, Sayr-something, she would do it all again if she could only live one more day. It shouldn’t be selfish to want to live, though maybe it is if it costs the lives of others.

  Please… I don’t… want to die… Not like this.

  In one last, desperate surge of strength, Zuzia focuses on the last little bit of air she has, trapped in her only because she seems to be encased in a solid block of ice with no volume into which she can push her air.

  Normally, that is.

  The Polish brunette isn’t sure exactly to what extent her body is super-powered. She doesn’t need or want to think about the world records she could probably set with spitting distance or urine-sniping, given the clumsy angel that gave her the power she has. But, she already had some idea that her entire physique is like something out of a classic comic book.

  And, with a timed movement in sync with an intentional cough, a loud crunch sounds out. There was resistance, but the sudden, forceful, and reactionary motion was too much even for what feels like was a solid block of ice.

  Not that Zuzia has ever been frozen solid in a chunk of ice, of course.

  She’s not quite free, yet, but she can feel movement. With that, she shoves her arms forward as hard as she can. With a loud pop, all resistance breaks free, and the upper half of the ice prison explodes away from her.

  The fresh, sweet, slightly tangy smoke-filled air reaches her nose, and Zuzia immediately gasps in the biggest, most delicious breath of her entire life. She breathes so desperately, that her partially water-logged lungs fight with her to cough up whatever moisture made it all the way into the most sensitive parts of her airways. She cries out, gasping in a final, big, unhindered breath that makes her feel truly alive. Her vision clears from the tears that were forced out by the pain, and she can finally see the big, beautiful sky and the elegant Mother and Child moons of Zenkon. They have drifted apart a bit over the course of the battle, or maybe she’s just imagining it. It feels like this chaotic skirmish has been going on for days at this point, but given the intensity, it has probably only been on the order of minutes. It doesn’t help that Zuzia has been through what feels like two agonizing adrenaline rushes.

  And if anything, the relief of escaping drowning, even if it was going to be the most likely way to stop her, has acted as a second wind, igniting a new, fiery will to live.

  Her legs are still trapped in the ice, and she can finally appreciate its full scope. Nearly seven meters of ice, ending in a spiky shell like an urchin, extends away from her in every direction, save for the rough hemisphere she already shattered away.

  And, a glow draws her attention towards the ground, which is actually only about a meter lower than her head level now thanks to a crater that was formed by whatever explosion slammed her prior to being frozen.

  “O rany…”

  The glow, which quickly recaptures her attention, is Serrentuk casting a spell. And, the shadow of some kind of flying vehicle crosses the faint distant glow of the mana fire behind him, which looks like an endless twilight where color still touches the sky just before night claims dominion over the sky.

  Is… that a spaceship?

  As her eyes move, she notices a figure land a few meters away from the elven sorcerer.

  The compulsion renews. Neith, or specifically, Sir Larven, is still alive, and she hasn’t received new orders yet.

  Further evidence that this whole thing has only been a few minutes, huh?

  Before Serrentuk can launch whatever his attack is, Zuzia smashes her fists downwards as strong as she can. Since she can freely move them, and her breathing is catching up to her racing heart, she is able to shatter the lower hemisphere still trapping her legs. She is the only thing that can seem to cause any real harm to her own body, so the shattering ice simply peels away from her body rather easily. Some clings to her dress, tapping and clicking against her skin and crunching against her movements as she lands in the muddy crater that stands as testament to Zuzia’s failed drowning.

  Glowing missiles of light streak through the air from Serrentuk, but they twist unnaturally and coil downwards towards the Polish brunette. She kicks the largest chunk of ice up, intercepting one of the magic attacks, and the explosion vaporizes the ice.

  The otherworlder powerhouse leaps backwards, narrowly avoiding another missile, which explodes against the ground. There are several more coiling through the air, some sweeping wide first as Serrentuk turns and sways his staff in artistic motions to skillfully weave the spells. Two ghostly clones of the sorcerer extend from his shoulders, also seemingly casting separate spells.

  Meanwhile, a spark ignites in Neith’s mouth as he takes flight.

  “My dress is basically pasties now, you jerks! Are you actually trying to defeat me!”

  She’s exaggerating a bit, but she can’t help but wonder at least a little how much the silken dress Sundenelle lent her cost.

  I probably should’ve gone with flax or something if this was how it was going to turn out…

  When Neith’s flame lance of immolating breath projects towards her, Zuzia’s next move starts with violent haste.

  With explosive force through the mud, the squishy grime oozing down into her ruined boots, she closes the distance on Serrentuk. He is startled by the speed with which she clears the slope of the crater, but he is no slouch. Unlike his near-zombie like state as Nesparu’s slave, he is a mage trained in combat and one who hunted a horrifically evil dragon all across the continent. He lunges sideways to avoid Zuzia, and shards of ice rain down on her with ballista-like force. They strike like little more than a marshmallow gun or balloons being thrown at her, in spite of shattering against her skin. She managed to avoid the remaining magic missiles, which exploded from the contact with the dragon’s fire.

  “Lady Zuzia, you don’t have to choose how you fight.”

  “It hurts less than even not resisting,” replies Zuzia as she quickly chases after him. He uses magic to keep his own weight next to zero, as well as guiding himself in quick and unpredictable flight like a leaf on the wind. She adds, “And, I can waste some time changing targets, since it seems I’m able to defend myself.”

  Serrentuk lands and begins blocking Zuzia’s strikes with barriers. At a glance, his movements seem like he’s skillfully tapping the ends of his staff to anywhere Zuzia strikes, but hard walls of glowing mana appear and intercept the attacks. Some shatter, but because he is abandoning each as quickly as he generates it, they are inconsequential to his defense.

  Zuzia moves fast with punches and kicks, but the elven sorcerer is surprisingly skilled. If she didn’t get a chance to get to know him, the Polish woman might’ve believed he was reading her mind, or even had some sort of active foresight granted by an all-encompassing space magic.

  Wait… He’s not, is he? Is he a space wizard?

  Zuzia hops back and then tries to dropkick, but she realizes her folly the moment Serrentuk swoops himself underneath her. She is directly overtop of a magic circle before she knows it, and it immediately suspends her on a cushion of air.

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  Zuzia flails and twists, but she can’t gain any leverage from her position. When her front is facing the ground, she hears a sound that she should have been prepared for sooner.

  The brazen brunette does her best to pivot as fast as she can, violently swinging her elbow back to intercept the incoming projectile.

  Neith hasn’t been using magic much, but she knew he had to be capable of it, since everyone seemed to be on edge about him becoming Sundenelle’s newest guard.

  And, short of summoning an actual meteor, the dragon brought down a giant boulder roughly three meters in diameter and slammed it into her at double the speed of a truck on the highway.

  Naturally, Zuzia would never even consider trying to deflect a speeding semi-truck made of solid granite with her elbow, and she would have an easier time envisioning her life without an arm after the fact than what actually happens.

  The impact is thunderous, jolting through Zuzia’s entire body, rattling every single bone she has, including the ones she had no idea were there.

  While the thunderous smack into her elbow successfully sharp-angles the boulder like a foul-ball in baseball, nearly forty tons of stone has a much easier time moving her than she has moving it during a trading of energy, even if her stupefying strength let her deflect the gigantic stone in the first place.

  Zuzia craters the ground once more as she bounces like a basketball, while the pseudo-meteor hits several meters away like a bomb, exploding the dirt and grass up. A deep scar is carved into the terrain, and the debris is sprayed outwards like a speedboat cutting through water.

  The brunette manages to tumble to her feet, though she tweaks her elbow as she’s standing up, and the pain causes her to yelp and flinch. “Ah! Gah! About time, you idiots!” She keeps jogging, even while hugging her arm to her body to try to nurse her elbow. She braces to avoid the dirt and rocks raining down from both impacts. Once she can, she sprints through the settling spray of terrain. Her eyes are set on Neith again, but she is mindful of Serrentuk. If she’s not careful, he’ll lure her into yet another helpless position, since it seems to be an extremely mana-efficient way to deal with her, even if the fight will drag out with both of them giving everything they can to achieve singular hits like that.

  Just as she’s making ready to launch herself towards Neith, Zuzia kicks backwards towards Serentuk, whose focus shifted to offense. He has one of his split minds dedicated to defense, but Zuzia has a secret.

  When he puts up his barrier, she doesn’t just punch it.

  She shoves her arm through it.

  Magical barriers are formed from pure mana, and Zuzia has immense magical resistance. Like her ability to withstand Gate’s ensnaring pull or the time freezing within, she can effectively ignore magic itself.

  Or at least, her stupefying magical power can overcome the resistance that magic presents like she’s pushing aside a toddler. Not that she would.

  More importantly, her iron grip comes within centimeters of the elven sorcerer, whose attack spells immediately falter when his entire being, split-mind doppelgangers and all, become stunned by the shock of Zuzia bypassing his barrier.

  Just as she’s about to grip his chest armor, Zuzia is slammed by a massive, flexible limb armored with natural plating made of scales.

  It’s Neith’s tail, and probably his most expendable appendage. At least, Zuzia hopes so.

  While his tail manages to knock her off balance from her attack on Serrentuk, it plays into her hand.

  Something that always annoyed Zuzia in movies, shows, and animated series was the phenomenon of large, overpowering henchmen, machines, or monsters that capture the heroes in their grasps and then… don’t squeeze them. Or punch them. Or rip them apart. Or slam them into the ground.

  Rather, and often featured in many shows and movies owned by a particularly mousey studio, the much larger enemy simply throws the hero or other important character that can’t die through the air a few meters away, such that they land in a tumble and then are able to rejoin the fight. Such kind, accommodating villains.

  Zuzia’s inner amateur media critic is going to hate herself, but thankfully, she still has shreds of agency she can use to spare her new friends as much as she can. IF they would still be willing to be friends with her after the trouble she’s causing.

  Zuzia snatches Neith’s tail faster than he can slip it away after the calamitous strike, and she pivots on the move, swinging the dragon like a heavy sack.

  Or, rather, for her, it’s more like a sack filled with wiffle balls, or maybe a pillow or something.

  The brunette launches the grey dragon through the air in a long arc. Her body strains some as an aftereffect of her own defiance against the contract, which wanted to slam him into the ground like he did to her not too long ago. Instead, an avian apex predator should have no problem surviving a near-ballistic ride through the skies. He did exactly that to bring her to this remote field that now looks like the surface of Earth’s moon, almost.

  Immediately, Zuzia whirls on Serrentuk, lunging back in. He tries to dedicate all three of his casting ‘minds’ to repelling her, but the two on barrier duty, using different styles of barriers, have little effect. The lightning barrier that tries to shock her tingles, but it’s far less potent than the bolts he was summoning to attack her.

  Meanwhile, his main body tries to barrage her with all six elements in alternation, exploding fire, water, air, ground, light, and dark magic against her in streams to try to hold her back.

  “Sorry, Serrentuk!” calls out Zuzia over the noise. “I can attack you without an intent to kill!”

  The mage tries to fall back using his magic flight, but Zuzia easily bounds into pace with him. He’s skilled, and he has far more experience against someone like her, since she’s pretty much limited to physical attacks, but she has seen his tricks already.

  Zuzia jukes hard left and dives forward into a tumble, avoiding two trap spells that the elven sorcerer tries to employ, and she closes the gap to his foot, which her hand locks around as soon as she can.

  She drags him to the ground, and while it’s a rough pull, she doesn’t put enough strength in it to turn him into paste on the ground. She doesn’t know, but she doubts he can tank the damage that Neith was able to take so far, and even that very same dragon was battered down by glancing blows and one successful block.

  Suddenly, the entire body dissolves into a black sludge, and Zuzia flinches back. She’s horrified at first, but Serrentuk’s voice then speaks from behind her. “If it’s targets that can keep the contract at bay, then allow me.”

  Zuzia whirls to find dozens of Serrentuks and Neiths. The imposters Look every bit as ragged as both fighters already are, and they all move independently of one another.

  The Earthling asks in wonder, since it’s genuinely surprising, “How are you controlling all of them independently? Isn’t this using a lot of mana?”

  “Sadly, you will find we are pale imitations,” state all of the clones at once. “But if it wastes your energy…”

  “It’s not going to work,” interrupts Zuzia. “I think my body is already recovering stamina, and if you blow it off too long, I’ll probably heal. I don’t remember every single little detail, but Amala made me extremely tough to kill. I could probably survive a nuke with these gifts.”

  Her joke causes the clones, which likely includes the real Serrentuk, and probably the real Neith, to grimace.

  Wait… Do they even know what nukes are? They shouldn’t right? This world’s not that far along, is it?

  “It’s a good idea to keep me distracted and not killing Neith, but if you want to actually incapacitate me, you’re going to have to keep kicking my butt!” Zuzia says this as the compulsion ramps up, and she bolts to the first and closest Neith clone. While it does try to retreat, the Polish woman is able to smash her fist through it, immediately disintegrating it into a puff of smoke.

  Unfortunately, it doesn’t release her from the orders, since it was just an illusion.

  I wonder if they made a convincing fake, if that would release me from those orders to kill Neith. But then, I would be forced to return to that dupkiem… Ugh… This is stressful… Though, I guess… The fight is exhilarating at least. Does that mean it’s fun? As long as I don’t kill them, right? Is this how boxers and wrestlers feel?

  Zuzia smashes through two more fake-Neiths with ease. She ignores all of the Serrentuks, because the fakes can’t generate actual spells, and the real one’s magic can barely stumble her most of the time, unless it is merely something used to take away her footing and suspend her in the air.

  The illusion of fire comes from several of the Neith phantoms, but she only needs to brace the first time. He hasn’t hit her directly with dragon fire, so she’s not sure if she would be unharmed if she took the full force. The heat is immense, given the near-misses he intentionally avoided hitting her with.

  “Tell me, Sir Neith!,” calls out Zuzia. “Does this trick work on your fiancee, if you know what I mean?”

  “If Sir Neith speaks,” interrupts Serrentuk’s many voices, “You will identify him instantly, yes?”

  “Ah, good point.” Zuzia genuinely didn’t think about that. She’s just trying to make small talk to forget about the fact that her body is trying to murder one or both of them.

  “Sorry! I’m just trying to make sure I don’t go any more crazy than I already am!”

  Zuzia then comes to a halt in the center of the large group. “Besides, if I really wanted to find you, it would be easy.” She clears her throat.

  I can’t believe I’m going to say this.

  “I haven’t even gotten serious yet.” Zuzia can feel her cheeks heating up from such an embarrassing line. Straightforward as it seems, it’s something her teenage self fantasized about being able to say in the heat of action like this.

  Zuzia leaps up into the air, shouting, “ Niebiański Cios! [Pl: Heavenly blow!]”

  Something else she has always wanted to try, other than making indirect references to popular fighting games and animes, is a key element of video games since its invention. It might not work, but if it does, it’ll prove just how stupidly powerful she is.

  Focus Zuzia… You can do this… You’ll be just fine… And, so will they, even if it does work…

  She turns forward in the air, angling herself headfirst towards the ground while Serrentuk and Neith both prepare to try to interrupt her attack.

  The problem for the two men is the fact that Zuzia barely used any strength whatsoever to jump five meters into the air. She’s not sure if she has been getting stronger, since her Guardian Angel is God’s clumsy Angel of Destruction, it seems. But, Zuzia is gaining more and more of a feel for exactly how strong she is.

  And, the next unreal act she’s going to carry out from video games is the fictional double-jump.

  She can’t literally jump against the air, even with her impressive strength, since the air isn’t dense enough to sustain itself as resistance to her feet.

  But, along with her massive boosts to defense, she has some mana in this new world, which she has a bit of a feel for now that she’s struck against it so many times.

  It only takes a tiny foothold for Zuzia’s feet; a small pocket of artificial ‘mass’ to make up for the air that isn’t strong enough for her to ‘jump’ off of.

  And, with the small, weak barrier she creates with her left hand at her feet, the Polish woman jumps straight towards the ground, diving shoulder-first as if trying to ram a person out of her way. Magic spells whiff over her, since she didn’t merely fall, but instead closed the two story distance in an instant.

  Her shoulder contacts the ground with the heaviest impact she’s made yet. The sheer ferocity of the collision serves as a kinetic weapon, sending destructive shockwaves that force the very earth itself to shudder and bend to her will. Even as she sinks into the suddenly-loosened terrain as if diving into a swimming pool, the fountain of gravel, debris, and withered grass erupts in every direction.

  Likewise, her speed doesn’t have an “adrenaline control” function that she’s figured out yet, but she can move blindingly fast if she needs to, and she has all the ammunition she could bossibly need ‘splashed’ into the air around her. Her footing is unstable as the tremors continue to rip apart the ground during the initial seconds of the impact, but she is able to hop up into the cloud of debris with a simple, fast pirouette.

  With that spin, she smacks every rock, dirt clod, and even the hard roots with as much force as she can.

  Serrentuk is a powerful mage, and if he was trying to kill Zuzia, he could have done so a long time ago. She has no doubt about it. Even now, as Neith calls out, “She can use magic!?”, the ancient elven sorcerer is creating barriers to protect as many of the clones as he can, and undoubtedly the real Neith. Doing so under what undoubtedly amounts to a moderately strong earthquake to him, coupled with the ballistic hailstorm of destructive shrapnel, is no easy feat. If Zuzia knows any one thing about magic, it’s that focus is crucial, especially for the stronger spells that take longer to cast.

  The problem is the strange hybrid sound somewhere between glass shattering and an electrical arc crackling through the air.

  Not all of the barriers are holding, especially when struck by Zuzia’s stones specifically.

  Having learned a new trick herself, since it worked as she hoped, Zuzia then uses her double-jump to laterally clear the fountain toward where she suspects Serrentuk is.

  The brunette human who hasn’t even cracked thirty yet only got a brief time to get to know her sagacious friend, but if he is to be believed, he is probably older than most of human civilization and recorded history on Earth. And, as a dragon-hunting sorcerer hell-bent on justice against a particularly evil dragon, he has probably forgotten more strategies for fighting an overpowered enemy than Zuzia could ever possibly know in every one of her years remaining.

  The problem for him is that Zuzia comes from a world where imagination delved deeper and deeper into the realms of “what could be possible” and even explored “what should be impossible”. There are certainly scenarios she can’t envision, but in a straightforward battle like this one…

  Zuzia lands in a forward tumble and smacks her hand through apparently thin air. Serrentuk has good reflexes, but she was counting on that much. Her hand makes contact with an invisible, solid mass of metal, which if it were iron, might have been. The attack disrupts the invisibility spell on Serrentuk, while his staff clatters across the ground.

  The human lunges in close to Serrentuk before he can escape, since he doesn’t need his staff, but it helps channel his attacks. Her hand closes around his neck before she can fully stop herself, but she does manage to avoid killing him with a crushing grip as he quickly coughs, unable to breathe.

  She notices that he’s wearing some extremely simple glasses, strapped onto his head with a headband to keep them in place. She hopes she can avoid damaging them, but her contract demands further action against her true target.

  Unfortunately, by all appearances, Neith has not lived for several millennia across rises and falls of civilization, aristocratic houses, generations of masters, and a lifetime spent hunting one dragon.

  Zuzia moves violently quickly, but with measured force to try to avoid breaking the elf’s neck. She whirls and throws him a short distance, which causes the grey dragon to falter less than three meters away from her.

  This is his death knell, since she can’t stop the blow this time, no matter how hard she tries. All she can do is try to soften it, screaming as the pain strangles her as quickly as her lightning-fast strike finds its mark.

  Zuzia’s fist makes direct contact with Neith’s chest, and he isn’t even fast enough to block this time. He is blasted backwards with the force of a cannon, so much so that actual light flashes from the sheer power, and which Sundenelle indicated would be overkill for a dragon, given what she has heard about Daniel making firearms specifically to kill dragons. Zuzia suspects he targeted weak points specifically, but Zuzia struck far harder than a mere rifle. She felt bones break, and she drops to her knees once the deed is done.

  Neith tumbles across the ground, coming to a lifeless stop as Serrentuk yells, “No! Sir Neith!”

  He tries to recover his own position in air, but it’s already too late.

  “It’s too late,...” murmurs Zuzia as the echoes of her strike still rumble back in from afar.

  The eerie silence that follows is broken only by Zuzia’s breathing.

  And then, a cough.

  She looks up frantically, and once more, Neith has defied logic.

  “Don’t… *cough* Don’t count me out… yet…” As if to retort directly to her, as well as to reassure her, Neith manages to lift his torso up with his arms, wearily climbing to his feet. He coughs again, spitting out blood. “I told you… My *cough* Liege Lord… is none other than… the Harbinger of… *cough* Ca-Calamity…”

  “You idiot! Run! I don’t know how you survived, but…!”

  Zuzia’s body moves on its own. Compelled into action to finish him off, she closes the ten meters in an instant.

  The grey knight has some time to pivot onto his backside this time, attempting to block or parry, but he can barely move, since the blow that should have punched a hole clean through him instead shattered several of his bones, no doubt. Even with healing magic and potions, it would take time to truly recover.

  But, he managed to survive instead.

  Serrentuk tries to create a cascading wall of dozens of barriers to Neith as he rushes in to evacuate him, but Zuzia carves through the flimsy mana panels as if she’s simply dashing through a thicket of spider webs. There is a clingy, ‘stickiness’ to them, but hardly what could be called resistance.

  That said, it does make Zuzia’s skin crawl, if she wasn’t terrified that she’s now going to kill both of them at once.

  Just as her fist is flying forward, it is halted by something that can only truly be considered an immovable object.

  After all, if Zuzia’s current God-given strength can’t move it, it probably is pretty close to immovable.

  When she looks, it is an angle and leverage that shouldn’t be physically possible, since Zuzia’s forward momentum has the advantage.

  There is only one person she knows, as a shockwave rips past the last barrier between her fist and the two men, who can overpower her in sheer force, other than the Creator himself.

  Zuzia’s eyes water to see her again as Amalaskae holds her hand firmly, not even flinching after having caught the brunette’s hand. Her dual-tone hair is beautiful, and her angelic dress is divine. But, her once cherubic and whimsical face has now become serious, stoic, and calm.

  “A-Amala…?”

  “I’m sorry, Zuzu. I should have protected you better.”

  Zuzia’s eyes begin to water, and she pleads, “Please… g-get away from me, Amala. I… I’m not myself, and… I only brought you misfortune…”

  Amala’s hardened face softens into a gentle smile. “Zuzu… You are my first, favorite, and most cherished Summon. I was so worried about you… Please forgive me for what I’m about to do…”

  “No! I… If anyone can hurt you!”

  As if to prove her point, Zuzia’s body, which has already started to strain and pull against the Angel, decides to launch an attack to regain her freedom. Her currently-free left fist flies, but it meets an instant halt that stops all of the force instantly. The wind flutters Amalaskae’s beautiful hair and dress, but the cannon-like fist doesn’t even manage to flex her elbow. Zuzia is surprised, but it does truly seem like Amalaskae might be fine.

  Still, she can’t help but worry.

  “Y-You were hurt…”

  “That? No… Sorry for worrying you. I was… um… Hmmm…”

  Zuzia’s body wrenches and fights, and Amalaskae’s smile softens into an expression of disappointment. “I can’t free you myself… That is my regret. So… We will have to continue with their plan…”

  The Polish woman’s out-of-control body tries to kick Amalaskae, and the impact is thunderous as the force of a large bomb explodes against her ribcage. Still, the Angel is unmoved. She simply continues her thought. “So, don’t worry about me, my precious Zuzu. Just… brace yourself.”

  Zuzia’s heart is racing once more. It’s starting to burn with how hard her heart is trying to keep her alive, yet she has never felt more truly alive than spending so much time on the edge of death; defying it with gifted strength.

  Without flinching, Amalaskae pulls Zuzia in for a powerful, earthquaking headbutt that makes a thunderous crack. Normally, Zuzia’s head would probably have exploded instantly, but it simply hurts as if another human did it to her. Regardless, it dazes her enough that her muscles relax a bit, and Amalaskae launches into the full counterattack.

  Even if Zuzia wanted to defend herself, she’s not sure she could.

  The Angel lifts her and slams her into the ground with a similar explosive force comparable to Zuzia’s diving-shoulder charge ‘Niebiański Cios!’, making such a feat seem completely effortless in comparison.

  This brutal opening attack sets the bar pretty high.

  ***