[center][h3]Deadwood Copse[/h3]
[@liferusher][@lunarlors34][/center]

The way the newer soldiers of Frenzy Plant threw themselves into an endeavor to preserve the life of Harper Saxum would have brought a tear to any eye, for any eyes besides ones clouded by grief and denial could tell that Harper was already dead.  In vain Ashlyn and Thor tried to sustain her body with warmth, which blazed on despite the oppressive rain because of the girls' passion.  The candle of Harper's life, quick, bright, and fleeting, went out mere seconds after the undead woman's foot reduced her midsection to roadkill.

As Ashlyn watched, a change came over her.  The black fog blanketing the ground like swarms of insects brushed constantly against her skin, and though the dying fire provided only fitful light to see by, Ashlyn could tell that her deceased comrade had grown pale.  With the wounds cauterized by fire, no more blood came, and what had already streamed out drained into the soil.  Her eyes and mouth lay open thanks to her muscles' slackening upon death.  Drops of rain mixed into the dirt on her face looked oddly like tears.  The eyes themselves were clouded, though less than before.  In fact, her eyes appeared almost normal now, though blacker than they had been.  While the downpour made it difficult to hear, a minuscule but steady flow of air issued from her lips—most likely whatever was left in her lungs.  As the moments wore on, this flow did not abate, but became stronger in a most peculiar fashion.  At this point, Ashlyn could almost certainly not help but be confused.

Then that flow reversed.

Greedily Harper [i]inhaled[/i], her chest now moving rhythmically.  Her eyes fell shut, but after a moment, opened suddenly and in a most bizarre fashion.  Rather than pupils, the inside of her irises contained for a split second the runic sigil that had been embellished on the minds of those within the town by exposure to the foul, sorcerous black fog.  Then they returned, not black but a sickly grayish-green.  Very slowly her head turned to face Ashlyn, and with eerie deliberation her lips moved, though no sound came out.  Were Ashlyn to look down at Harper's torso, she'd see the flesh reconstituting itself, healing piece by piece in a grotesque manner; every strip of damaged tissue wiggled back into place as if they were alive.  A surprised expression came over Harper's face as she looked down at herself, even after the grievous wound was completely gone only moments later.  Her lips began to move again, faster and faster, until Ashlyn became aware of what she was trying to say.

[color=A9BA9D]”Omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod omigod...”[/color]  Hyperventilating, the thing that had been Harper looked up at Ashlyn.  [color=A9BA9D]”Ah...ah...ah...ah...p-please...don't look at me...say something, anything, come on?  I'm freaking out right now...”[/color]

[center][color=BC8F8F] [h3]Mercury Marowit – Belka Market[/h3][/color]
[@hatakekuro][@caits][/center]

Every hair Mercury had stood on end when a feeling of pure hopelessness smashed into him.  His nerves instantly went slack and he fell to his knees beside the others with whom he'd climbed up from the trap; his kamas clattered uselessly onto the gravel.  This awful, awful impulse made him want to retch, or perhaps something fouler still.  Yet, a power he recognized but did not quite understand burned him.  If he had to describe it, he'd say that giving in seemed like a tasty morsel on a plate right in front of him, incredibly appetizing, but when he reached his fingers out to grasp it he could feel a terrible heat radiating from it that warned him away.  This vigor originated from his guild mark, and while Mercury knew of nothing special about the mark itself, he got the distinct feeling that the very warrior spirit of Frenzy Plant was galvanizing him to go on.  No true soldier could die on their knees rigid in fear; it was time to rise up and fight.  The terror eked away, as might fog on a sunny day, and instead Mercury felt pride.  Not everyone understood what an honor it was to belong to Frenzy Plant and to fight for it, and Mercury felt that even if he met his demise in fighting whatever tried to drive him to despair, it would be a noble death.  He grabbed his weapons and pushed himself to his feet, his knees still shaky but his eyes alight with fervor.

[color=BC8F8F]”Yeah,”[/color] he told Enma, starting to run.  [color=BC8F8F]”Let's make whatever it is sorry it picked a fight with us.”[/color]  

[center][color=A45A52][h3]Graveyard[/h3][/color]
Ni Rensa, Eliza, Edith Riggs, Kilo, Joakim Fortinbras, Heisty Beardo, Kumbha Yatta, Bytan Brass, Mercury Marowit
Argus Leandros, Ike Riven, Riona Ymir, Damian Gerard, Gabriel, Sengoku Enma
[@raijinslayer][@zarkun][@oblivion666][@caits][@hatakekuro][/center]

The immense pressure issuing from the gargantuan, nightmarish Flesh Giant battered everyone in the vicinity, but Bytan perhaps most of all.  The old hero boasted a far better physique than most at his advanced age, but this crushing aura made him feel feeble and weak.  At this range, it took all of his willpower to remain standing and with all of his fluids where they belonged.  For all this, however, something rose in challenge.  Forced to tear his eyes away from the behemoth, Bytan saw with terror that a maelstrom of magic he could only describe as 'beyond evil' engulfed Argus.  One question dominated his mind: [i]Is the demon going to kill me before the undead can?  If I live, I must tell Sanders: Argus cannot be allowed to survive.  This is pure malice.  He'll kill us all....[/i]

Against all odds, the stygian blackness subsided, and the possessed dread fighter emerged only slightly changed.  Bytan gaped, not knowing what to make of it.  Somehow, this man hadn't given in to the darkness.  It could only have been the Seal of Denial he knew that Sanders intended to have placed on him, but Bytan felt more as if Argus [i]chose[/i] not to go on a rampage.  He shuddered, but in response to the other man's words, began to draw upon his own magic.  Arcane runes formed in the air around him.  No time to waste.

Just as the graveyard team of Damian, Ni, and Eliza arrived on the scene, the Flesh Giant took its first step.  The act of moving its leg forward alone reduced the remainder of the chapel to rubble, and as it grew closer Ni could see that its lower legs were, in fact, made of legs.  Like the roots of a colossal tree the obviously human but nevertheless grotesque limbs splayed in every direction, most feet bearing weight whole others flailed around madly.  One gnarled foot crashed down on the body of one of the robed interlopers knocked down by Argus' flame wave, instantly pulverizing it into revolting brownish paste.  Ni witnesses Argus' attack, but yet another layer of fear settled over her when she saw that her comrade's physical attack with the knives seemed far more effective on the Flesh Giant than the magical explosions.  Nevertheless the night did light up, his great red beacon surrounding the abomination and serving as a signal to his allies.  [i]Now[/i], that huge flaming pillar seemed to say.  [i]Now is the time to fight.[/i]

Frenzy Plant evidently heard the call, for an entire squad of soldiers appeared on the scene soon after.  Altogether, a party of fifteen soldiers stood against Belka's horror.  The magic summoned by Bytan reached a fever pitch of intensity before a barrage of arcane spears shot out toward the monstrosity, but again each one inflicted woefully little damage to the thing.  His voice remarkably steady despite the storm's blustering, Bytan shouted out, [color=A45A52]”It's got huge magic resistance.  Our best bet is to try and slow it down with our weapons until Sanders and Suede can get here.  The Master can make it vulnerable, and Suede can set up a siege engine to knock it down.  Ready, soldiers!  Attack!”[/color]