Behind Runaan’s back, ten frost-laden peaks ascended. These colossal summits, appearing to pierce the firmament, were draped in primordial snow that had remained frozen through the ages, gazing down with cold disdain upon the mortals far below.
"The... Sword Domain?"
Syria Sullion, peering through the visor of his Baphomet helm, could not comprehend that Runaan had not only reached enlightenment but was actively manifesting a Sword Domain.
"This is impossible! I made sure to strip everything from you!"
His voice wavered in disbelief, questioning how she could stand when he had siphoned her internal energy, drained her vitality, and even attempted to fracture her very spirit.
"Heh..."
Burren, wiping the dark, metallic-tasting blood from his chin, let out a faint, ragged chuckle.
"It seems she’s finally pulling her weight."
He slumped against the earth, his posture showing complete confidence in Runaan’s capabilities.
"Finish him off properly this time."
Burren gave a firm nod, entrusting her to conclude the battle that Raon had been unable to settle.
"I will..."
Runaan gave a slight, solemn nod and hoisted her pale, shimmering blade toward the heavens. In that instant, the massive mountain range behind her seemed to breathe, and the ancient snow clinging to the peaks surged upward like a rising mist.
The white drifts, meeting the shadow of the sky, transformed into tens of thousands—perhaps more—of crystalline frost petals, drifting down to circle Runaan.
Enveloped in these countless shards of ice, Runaan projected an aura that was simultaneously exquisite and lethal. She appeared as a sovereign of the winter blossoms, a ruler presiding over a realm of eternal cold.
As Runaan leveled her weapon at Syria Sullion, the blizzard of petals that had been hovering around her surged forward, caught in an unseen gale.
The sight was as breathtaking as a flurry of falling blossoms, yet beneath the elegant flight of each petal lay a murderous intent so freezing it felt predatory.
"Gah!"
Syria Sullion was visibly shaken as the petals swarmed toward him like a cloud of angry hornets, but he forced a swing of his massive great sword.
The heavy blade carved through the air, creating a shockwave that seemed capable of cleaving the firmament—a devastating blow born of the transcendent realm.
!
Yet, Runaan’s frost petals danced upon the wind like clever insects, gliding around the path of the great sword before diving back toward their target.
"What—!"
Syria Sullion scrambled backward to evade the onslaught, but he was not fast enough to prevent a single sliver of ice from burying itself into the back of his hand.
"Ngh..."
He gnashed his teeth as he looked at the wound, clearly feeling a level of agony he hadn't anticipated.
"This is a mere scratch! It cannot diminish the devotion I hold for you!"
Reaching out with his right hand, Syria Sullion ignored the sting and tried to yank the frozen shard from his left hand.
However, despite his efforts, the fragment refused to budge. On the contrary, the more he tried to extract it, the deeper it burrowed into his anatomy.
"What is the meaning of this..."
Syria Sullion’s jaw went slack as he watched the ice carve deeper into his own flesh.
"Do not be startled yet..."
Runaan made a slow rotation with her blade, and the petals began to orbit Syria Sullion in a vast, constricting circle, sealing his movements.
"This is only the beginning."
As she brought her sword down, the ice generated by her Sword Domain lunged at Syria Sullion with renewed ferocity.
"Curse it!"
Recognizing that he couldn't afford to worry about his current injuries, Syria Sullion immediately began a series of complex evasive maneuvers while keeping his great sword in constant motion. He hoped to blow the petals away with the sheer pressure of his swings while dancing out of the path of any that broke through.
But once again, the reality of the fight defied his logic.
Runaan’s petals utilized the very gusts Syria Sullion produced, riding the air currents in reverse. They mirrored his intricate footwork perfectly, staying glued to his position without a second’s hesitation.
"This is madness!"
His eyes went wide as he whirled his heavy blade like the sails of a mill. He attempted to shatter every incoming shard, but three fragments found the gaps in his defense, sinking deep into his shoulder, his side, and his leg.
"Aaaaaagh!"
Syria Sullion let out a guttural howl and retreated in a panic. The sinister confidence he had displayed earlier vanished, replaced by a visible tremor in his hands as he stared at the new wounds.
"What are these things?!"
He channeled his fighting spirit into his fingertips, attempting to force the petals out of his shoulder and waist, but the shards remained immovable, digging further into his muscles.
Runaan offered no moment of peace, scattering the frost once more. Following the guidance of her blade, the fragments soared high before descending with the speed of a lightning strike.
"Silent Blood Flame!"
Syria Sullion dug his heels into the dirt and hoisted his sword. From the steel of his weapon, a technique manifested as flame-like energy, intending to incinerate the incoming frost.
The petals simply ignored the intense heat. They bypassed his fiery defense and embedded their sharp edges into his chest, his arm, and his thigh.
"Uaaaaaaaak!"
Syria Sullion’s scream was a raw, agonizing sound, as if he were being drawn and quartered. Every ounce of his former poise had been stripped away.
"Why... how can this be..."
Saliva and foam leaked from his helmet, his body trembling with the realization that even simple movement was now a source of blinding pain.
Realizing the great sword alone wouldn't save him, Syria Sullion tore a staff crafted from bone out of the earth. He intended to invoke the full dual-nature of Baphomet, combining martial skill with sorcery.
Yet, he didn't aim the magic at Runaan; he desperately tried to use the power to expel the ice from his body.
Naturally, petals bound by Runaan’s spirit were not to be moved by such mediocre spells.
"What are these cursed things!"
He shrieked in mindless frustration, but his only answer was Runaan’s unrelenting attack.
Runaan had mastered the nuances of her Sword Domain, directing the petals with increasing grace and velocity to cocoon Syria Sullion.
Despite his desperate swings and frantic steps, the number of wounds on Syria Sullion’s body multiplied. He groaned under the weight of the endless torment, his movements growing heavy and sluggish.
"E-Evil Goat Demon?"
Bear Fire Demon’s voice shook as he watched Syria Sullion lose his composure for the first time.
"Get rid of these! Do something about these wounds!"
Syria Sullion roared at his subordinate, his eyes rolling back in his head from the strain.
"Y-yes, my lord!"
Bear Fire Demon attempted to use his own magic to draw out the shards, but even his sorcery was powerless against the frost blades fueled by Runaan's killing intent.
"You incompetent fool... Aaaaaaaak!"
While he was berating Bear Fire Demon, another petal pierced the side of his neck. He let out a sound that was no longer human—a high-pitched, screeching wail.
"This... it should be impossible."
When the first shard hit his hand, it had been painful but manageable. However, as the number of fragments grew, the agony didn't just add up; it multiplied. Now, every new contact felt like his limbs were being shredded.
Worse still, the pain from the older wounds didn't fade. It remained as sharp and vivid as the moment of impact.
Even when Raon Zieghart had nearly decapitated him, he hadn't known suffering like this. He was drowning in confusion.
'There has to be... a way...'
Syria Sullion’s eyes darted frantically across the battlefield.
'There! That’s it!'
To his right lay Burren Zieghart and Martha Zieghart, both incapacitated by their injuries. If he could seize them as collateral, he could find an opening to flee.
[I have a plan to get us out of here.]
Syria Sullion sent a silent message of energy to Bear Fire Demon.
[Just give me a moment of distraction.]
He was gasping for air, pleading for his ally to draw Runaan’s focus.
"Mmm..."
Though terrified, Bear Fire Demon had no choice. He bit his lip and moved forward.
"D-die!"
He conjured spheres of dark, cursed energy with his staff and launched them at Runaan.
Recognizing the corrosive nature of the spell, Runaan commanded her petals to form a shimmering white barricade.
"Hyaaaaa!"
Bear Fire Demon continued to bombard the frost wall, pouring everything into his magic to keep Runaan occupied just as Syria Sullion had instructed.
Taking the chance, Syria Sullion lunged off the ground with all the strength he had left, flying toward the wounded Burren and Martha.
'I have them!'
Runaan seemed preoccupied with the magic shield, and his fingers were inches away from the pair. Once he had them in his grasp, he could bend Runaan to his will again.
'The hostages... wait, what?'
Just as a cruel grin began to form and he reached for Burren’s throat, something changed.
Frost petals erupted from the earth beneath Burren. They sliced through Syria Sullion’s wrist and lodged themselves deep into the bone.
"Aaaaaaaaaaak!"
He crashed to his knees, screaming in a level of agony that bypassed shock and went straight to madness. More petals swarmed him then, sinking into his flesh and amplifying the torment.
"B-Bear Fire Demon, you idiot..."
Spitting blood, Syria Sullion turned to look back and his heart stopped.
Bear Fire Demon was already a corpse, his body pinned to the ground with frost shards through his throat and chest. His mask was shattered, and his eyes were vacant.
"I expected you to try that..."
Runaan walked toward Syria Sullion, her sword held steady.
"It was obvious you would go for the hostages..."
She gave a small nod, revealing that she had been monitoring not just his body language, but his very intent.
"I will end you and keep everyone safe."
Runaan pressed her lips together, her resolve absolute. In this state, her Sword Domain was a perfect equilibrium of absolute defense and unavoidable offense.
"Ru-Runaan. My Runaan!"
Syria Sullion gasped out her name, his breath coming in ragged hitches.
"We are the only ones who can truly understand one another! We are meant for love, not this! I have cherished you from the moment you entered this world!"
He dropped his weapons, realizing that physical force was no longer an option against her.
"You are my destined partner... it is the way of the world..."
The moment he claimed she was his lover, the frost petals coalesced into the form of a massive, roaring dragon, capable of leveling fortresses. It descended upon him with the weight of a mountain.
Syria Sullion was caught in a vortex of ice, his body being torn apart by thousands of microscopic cuts.
"Uaaaaaaaaaak!"
He was now so covered in frost shards that his skin was entirely hidden from view.
"It h-hurts! Make it stop! Just kill me!"
He clawed at his own face with his fingernails, screaming in a terror far greater than the death he had previously known.
"Euiiiiik...!"
Driven to the brink, he tried to turn his own broken staff against himself to pierce his heart and end the nightmare.
Before he could, a petal flew through the air and severed his remaining wrist.
"Kughhhhhh!"
Syria Sullion collapsed, his veins bulging against his skin as his strength failed him. He stared at the sky, his eyes begging for the release of the grave.
Step.
As Runaan halted before the broken, groaning man, the storm of petals quieted, revealing his ruined state.
"Haaaak..."
His hair and nails had been torn away by the sheer intensity of the pain. He was covered in deep wrinkles and ruptured vessels, unable to move even a single digit because of the ice anchored in his nerves. In a matter of minutes, he had withered as if decades had passed.
"R-Runaan."
He managed to twitch one finger toward her.
"S-save me. Or kill me. Please... it’s too much..."
He wept openly, terrified of the pain that felt like it was shredding his very soul.
"An eon is the time required for a single drop of water to wear away a stone..."
Runaan spoke softly, lowering her blade.
"The agony you feel is your eternity. It will persist through an endless stretch of time..."
She drove the white blade of her sword into his chest.
She felt the steel part the skin, crack the ribs, and puncture his heart. There was no remorse in her heart, only a profound sense of relief that washed over her.
"Even beyond the end."
She touched her chin thoughtfully, noting that his suffering would outlast his physical life.
"Ah... ah..."
Syria Sullion’s eyes remained wide and bloodshot, his mouth open in a silent horror as he realized the pain was not fading even as his life flickered out.
"And I will stand as the shield of Zieghart for as long as you remain in that pain."
Runaan flicked her blade to clear the blood, then slowly let her eyes close.
"Even after death."
