---

Like lightning and thunder, spell and man crashed down on the revenant, Galahad's halberd striking true, even as the rest of the party bombarded the creature from all angles. However, Galahad had not even a moment to check the impact of his blow before he was unceremoniously tossed away, the armored Dragoon tumbling into the sands as the creature roared in defiance.

As he quickly righted himself, Galahad found himself staring at three images of the revenant, flickering with speed that didn't seem possible with his size and strength. They were surrounded on all angles. He'd hardly registered Izayoi's command as he braced himself for a death stroke. He couldn't see what was happening next, only hear- and occasionally felt, as one or two swings came in too close, sundering cloth and steel. In that moment he realized why his father hated Izayoi so.

For the first time, in a long time, Galahad realized that he was afraid. How was he supposed to face and win against that? Even now, with all his fame and noteriety, he was hardly the warrior his father was. Even now, he relied on the strengths of his party to supplement what he lacked. To be called Dragonslayer almost felt like a mockery in the face of such speed and strength.

Izayoi was going to kill the revenant on her own.

Or so was Galahad's thought. The sight of the mystrel samurai being cut down brought Galahad back into the present. He forced himself to move, even as Rudolf intercepted the oncoming revenant, interposing himself between them for a masterful block, the energy from his limit break causing the sand around them to billow and swirl. The young monster slayer had the right idea.

"Everyone up! Now!" Galahad barked as he leaped towards the revenant, not content to give it even a second to think through its actions. "Miina! Help Izayoi! Everyone else stay in the fight!"

With Izayoi down and Rudolf blocking for her, Galahad currently had the heaviest weapon to bare down on this monster. Planting his feet at the last minute, Galahad flipped his weapon and jabbed the point at the back of revenant's knee. Pushing off of him, Galahad used the momentum to backstep and twisted, sliding his hands down to the very end of his weapon to give it the most length and weight he could, delivering a vicious overhead swing down onto its injured shoulder.

"Kirins!" Galahad bellowed. "Cut him down!"

The combined assault all came in lightning-quick succession, after being assailed by Eliane's explosive shells and scorch-shocked by Eve's flaming lightning, the Revenant received a solid falling thrust from Galahad's dragonslaying halberd, then any attempts of counterattack were disrupted by Rudolf and Robin occupying its immediate attention, however, the Revenant only had so many limbs to work with, when Miina lunged with her electrified rapier, it had none to left to respond against.

The presumed Pseudolon of Odin was clearly hurting, even if its face was covered, its howls and staggers meant whatever the Kirins were doing was working. Good, this simply meant they had to keep this up. However, even after all that, being wounded just seemed to make it angrier, like a cornered tiger, this has turned from a casual hunt into a desperate fight for its life, guess which situation would command more ferocity?

"...?!" Eve's red eyes widened as in a split-second, the Revenant split itself manifold, conjuring three illusory copies, but presumably just as deadly. This wasn't good, Grayscale was - for all intents and purposes - a purely offensive living weapon, an artillery super-battery capable of shelling even a mighty air-battleship into rubble, but she couldn't handle the same thing if she was on the receiving end. If this creature's legendary blade struck then-...

"...?" Only for the strike to never come, no, it did, but it was parried by Izayoi's identical technique, the lethal dance equalized. That was close, far too close, and the brush with death had only solidified Eve's mission, that her "kind" shouldn't and couldn't continue to exist. She'd slay every single one of them, and then... herself. But right here, right now, it'd be this False Odin's turn!

"IZAYOI!" Eve roared as the climactic clash between the two swordsmen ended in the Mystrel receiving a critical injury; the samurai wasn't outright killed, but judging from the Revenant's movements, it was something it intended to achieve sooner than later. No, this must not come to pass, the widowed warrior had saved her comrades' lives mere moments ago, for her to pay that heroic deed with her own would be a grave insult. She must do something, anything!

...Mega Flare? No, danger close, she'd glass the desert and the Revenant, true, but at the very probable cost of vaporizing her own allies. However, any other spell wouldn't cut it either. Was this it? Would this be the end of Ranbu no Izayoi, Limbtaker Demoness of the Emperor?

Then, before her very eyes, before everyone's eyes, the monster hunter stood defiantly between the samurai and her corrupted master. Brave or foolish? Surely he'd know that the creature would simply cleave through him as if he wasn't there to get to Izayoi, felling both in one stroke. Surely he-...

"... ... ..." -...possessed eldritch powers that darkened the light of the sun and chill the blistering desert heat. At that moment, as shadows made physical spread from the youth's palm to halt the Revenant's swing, Eve experienced an otherworldly chill that even she - a man-made abomination - felt... wrong. Her kind, the Pseudolons, might be artificial constructs born out of hubris, but they were still formed from the union of two natural beings, a mortal race and a Primal. However, whatever Rudolf just conjured, it felt as ancient as the Primals, and yet... tainted, it felt like... the Blight itself.

Rudolf... just who or what are you?

"Tch!" Once again, Galahad's commanding voice spurred her mind to focus. Right, she could worry about Rudolf's Blight-like powers later, for now, they had a Pseudolon to put down!

Titan, Earth's Guardian, lend me your hand, so that we may grasp victory! Eve concentrated upon her magic circuits as the sands around her began to swirl chaotically, then she slowly raised her right palm. At the same time, the sands themselves obeyed her command as they coalesced into a hand-shaped construct before hardening into solid, dune-colored large stone almost matching the bulk of the Revenant.

"This hand of mine is the earthen envoy that shall deliver your judgment, monster!" The black mage then thrust her arm forward, palm still open, in response, the gigantic stone hand rumbled forward like a charging golem, "Tremble before the wrath of Gaia!" Eve enunciated as she firmly closed her opened palm into a tight fist.

The earthen construct would crash into the Revenant's upper torso, then closed itself into a fist, aiming to crush it into a pulp, or more likely considering how sturdy it was, bludgeon and restrain it simultaneously, thus giving an opening for Rudolf to disengage and the rest of the team to unleash their own offensive maneuvers upon the armored monster.

Ohnoohnoohno they were going to die and it was fine with being stabbed in the gut, what was fine being stabbed there, wasn't it all important to standing up and turning and stuff and that wasn't even counting the lightning how was it moving and so fast, too fast, there was nothing that they could possibly do and—

Maybe only Izayoi was going to die. Somehow, that seemed worse, after putting in that much effort. Even if she tried to block, or went for a barrier, this monster would just smash right through it so—

Okay, Rhubarb had an amazing barrier somehow. She didn't really get it? But that was something, at least. Was anyone else hiding some vital ability that would help, here? Just grasping continually at straws really didn't seem like it would help. Oh, sure, if she could stab it again, that might work, even this ought to be stopped in place with its guts shredded… didn't seem like she'd have another chance to pull off a trick like that.

Besides, there was something more important to do! And she didn't need the reminder this time, she wasn't that bad at learning. But with the level of the enemy, nope, she couldn't just rely on it to not notice her and Izayoi off to one side, or for everyone else to cover. But this time… it wasn't like the others needed an easy time seeing them, too? No co-ordination problems, really, just focus on the enemy.

The blurring wasn't perfect invisibility, far from it, but it had been good enough to… get into places, and how had she never realised what sort of people she was working with when that was their main use? Here, with all the rushing about and the wind kicking up sand, the enchantment ought to be enough to keep Izayoi and herself as the lowest priority target. Which was great, it meant she could focus on healing. Or at least they'd be the last ones down, now, and she'd have to see if she could get a lucky stab or make a getaway.

That seemed like it would be hard this time, even if it was just herself. Even if escaping was normally her speciality.

---

The illusion that masked Ciradyl's identity faded as her voice boomed across the rolling desert wastes. Each sweet note projected above the chorus of gunfire and clang of metal. Mint-green eyes hovered over Izayoi as she continued, knowing she should have done this from the start. Perhaps, then, the result wouldn't have been more favorable. Her throat strained against the harsh heat and dryness of the desert, but that was her struggle in this fight. Gusts of wind blew from Ciradyl's direction and kicked up sand into the air as her song began to envelop Team Kirin. Everyone wrapped in its embrace would feel stronger, faster, and reinvigorated as the notes rejuvenated them. However, its effects were directly tired to her performance and would cease immediately should she stop. That was why as she headed into the chorus, she poured her heart into every syllable.

Ciradyl hated the Revenant for the suffering it wreaked on Opsrey, and for the would-be rebels she fed Valheim to gain their influence and trust. She detested the Revenant and Valheim had forced her to such extreme measures to ensure the future of the nation she loved. Most of all, fury coursed through her at the thought it might take away the last precious thing to her. This was all or nothing. They had to eliminate the Revenant here and now.

She positioned herself behind the frontline of the group at a safe distance, continuing her serenade. It was her gift from the gods and it had gone unused for far too long. It was up to the rest of the party to utilize it and bring victory.

---

Arton rose to his feet in pain, something broken, but even with the dizziness that made it hard to focus he could see Izayoi's form slumped on the ground. Rudolf's startling appearance confused him in the blurriness of his sight, wondering if a second Revenant had joined the fray. That was when he was sure he was hallucinating as a wonderful, captivating, overwhelming voice washed over him and his sight began to clear and the ache in his bones lessened. Arton didn't bother to give Galahad an answer and charged forth towards the monster with renewed determination.

He once more put himself in front of the Revenant for its direct attention, bashing his shield against its limbs trying to interrupt its attacks. The others could handle dealing the killing blow to this freak. He quickly bit his tongue calling it such before fighting on "That all you got?!?" He taunted furiously at the Revenant.

It was so swift. So agile.

It was no wonder that Ranbu no Izayoi was such a famous, infamous name. Her shouted warning, the dance that unfolded before Robin's eyes---

If this wasn't a battle, Robin would have wanted to simply observe the technique. The analyze every step that the ronin made. Simply to appreciate it, as one who also wielded a blade despite the distance between their two schools of swordplay.

And then the giant figure's blade fell.

Despite all she had done, it hadn't been enough. The Revenant's blade had nearly killed Ranbu no Izayoi in a single blow, and now she lay upon the sands, bleeding.

Robin didn't really hear what was being said. Her feet were already moving.

Her pounding heart quickened, as she witnessed Sagramore intercept such a heavy blow in a manner she didn't fully understand. How and why didn't really matter, now, only that she now had an opening she could take advantage of.

Everything else could be considered another time.

It was a moment in which a hero acted.

Sparkling light flowed over the edge of her blade as she moved.

Her target lay ahead of her. A terrifying monster who hadn't been brought down even by such a skillful dance.

But she wouldn't stop.

Robin wouldn't allow herself to stop.

A blade isn't just a plaything. It's a tool for killing, no matter what your intentions are.

The old man's words in her ears.

She knew that plenty well.

And against an opponent with heavy armor, or thick skin, you need to target their weak points.

Her fellow Edrenian's block had opened a perfect path for her. A single place where she could strike as the behemoth's blade was locked in place.

Against armor, you want to go for the joints. You can cripple or kill if you strike in the right spots, no matter how well-defended they are.

Beneath the arm.

She didn't know if this monstrous figure functioned like a normal creature. But beneath the arm there were important veins and muscles, things that were crucial to the body's functions.

If Robin could pierce this monster there---!

Sparks flew, sand tossed into the air beneath her feet, as Robin thrust her sword firmly upwards beneath the revenant's sword arm---!

---

In that one moment, Éliane knew, she had come closer to death than anything she had experienced in the past. Not the battle she had gotten into on the rooftops of Solitude, not the attack on the Edrenian castle that had killed most of her countrymen, not even the frantic prison break just days ago that really had no right to have gone that smoothly –And wasn’t that a thought, that most of her biggest fights had taken place in the three national capitals?—but here, out in the desert, in the most random of encounters.

It wasn’t the Blight, nor some Valheimian general or officer, but some twisted experiment.

And then the moment passed, with Izayoi’s desperate intervention that left her on the brink of death.

The initial barrage of team Kirin had not amounted to much, despite the firepower that all of them had brought to bear against this Revenant, but Izayoi’s counterattack and whatever the hell Rudolf had did gave them a second chance that they likely wouldn’t have again. Even as Éliane moved, the rest of her party acted, surrounding the wounded thing as they cut into him with swords and magic. Unfortunately for Éliane, her own barrage had left her out of ammunition in her rifle.

So without hesitation, she drew her gunblade again and closed the distance, fully aware that range meant nothing to this opponent. Eve’s attack made finding a good opening difficult, but Robin found an opening and Éliane exploited it right after the other woman made her move, coming in right after her. She took a shot point blank right where Robin had pierced at his armpit—and followed up with a slash from another angle at the same time as the hero-minded girl, banking on the armor breaking under the repeat point assault.

Ame-no-Habakiri was stopped by the darkest of magics, and for a moment, the Revenant looked at the barrier as if bewildered. It continued pressing down on the barrier with sword in hand, hairline fractures beginning to form in Svalin. Before any further headway could be made, however, the behemoth relented on its assault as the Kirins charged once more.

Emboldened by Ciradyl's song, Galahad's halberd pierced armor, but before the dragoon could complete his second swing, the Revenant abandoned its attempt to pierce Svalin. Its crimson blade batted the halberd aside with contemptuous ease, stopping the attempt cold. Before it could do anything further, an earthen fist immobilized the Revenant in its grasp. The abomination's exposed eye narrowed, and as Robin and Eliane closed in, aether welled up around its form.

It freed itself in a burst of raw, unaspected magic emanating outward from itself. Most of the attack's potency was spent utterly destroying Eve's stone hand, but enough force was left to send everyone around it flying back in a shockwave.

The Revenant's head tilted, its one exposed eye gazing back and forth between the various fighters as if it was only just perceiving them for the first time. It stilled and settled into a proper fighting stance, gripping its sword with two hands for the first time since the battle began. Just then, however, a buzzing sound rang out from the beast's helmet, causing it to jerk its head up sharply in the direction of the airship it was deployed from.

It disappearing in a blur of motion was all the warning the Kirins had before cannon fire from the airship began to rain down on their position. Most of it was small bore, and rather inaccurate, but the intensity of the barrage led to cracks in the ground. Beneath the sand was stone, and the saturation fire, combined with the damage from the battle that had already been raging, led it to finally give way.

The ground collapsed beneath the party, and they plummeted downward into the darkness.

___

Somehow, they didn't die. As the Kirins approached the ground below at a velocity that would almost certainly kill them, with the likely exceptions of Galahad and Eve, magic enveloped them and eased their fall. They touched gently down on stone tile, a cavernous complex laying before them.

Hidden beneath the ruined village was a massive marble structure, the symbols of the gods etched upon its face making it obvious that the building was a temple. And coming down its steps was a wizened old graybeard clad in white robes, clutching a plain wooden staff.

"Oho," He gave a slight smile, inspecting each and every member of the party before him. "It's been quite some time since we've received visitors or pilgrims of any sort. Not since the outside world has forgotten about this place, at least."

Izayoi, conscious and no longer on the brink of death thanks to Miina's healing, wearily looked at the man with naked suspicion as she pulled herself up to a sitting position with great difficulty. There wasn't a chance in hell she could stand on her own power, to say nothing of fighting, but at least she was alive.

"A temple complex buried beneath the sands? I've never heard of such a legend, and I'd traveled the desert extensively as a youth. Your name." She demanded, pushing past the reminder of what they'd just faced as best she could.

"Call me Cid. High Caretaker of Etro's clergy. And...I imagine you have questions about the sickness that infests the heart of our land. Please, let me know of how the surface world has been affected, and I will do my best to provide answers in return."

___

Back up on the surface, the Revenant looked down into the chasm that had been created with a dissatisfied growl. Sword in hand, it leapt into the abyss, following after the Kirins.

Bolstered by the Faye Bard's mystical soliloquy, those still able-bodied amongst the Kirins had their spirits lifted to new heights, pushing them to break their limits. Even if the Revenant managed to plow through the binding stone hand and pushed Galahad, Robin, and Eliane back, Rudolf's light-devouring barrier remained, sheltering their wounded so Miina could save their lives. Yes, Eve could feel it through Cyradil's ether-laced lyrics, the Revenant was hurting and they simply needed to keep this up, just a bit longer, and it'd perish like an abomination should!

"Rrrgh...!" However, the dragoness growled as that blightdamned airship returned to defend the empire's precious wardog, and here she was hoping they'd simply leave it to fend for itself, but she supposed after pouring a fortune to develop her kind, it'd be such a wasteful decision that even they would think twice. Unfortunately, it was a tactically sound move as the cannonfire gave the false Odin a chance to regroup, though she wasn't sure if collapsing the ground was also part of the plan.

Regardless, the Kirins were now plummeting fast into the newly-formed gaping hole in the desert. Eve frowned deeply, concerned, not about herself, no, she could spread her draconic wings via her trance or cast elemental magic to soften her fall, she had failsafes against gravity's lethal embrace. However, the same couldn't be said for all of her comrades, save for Galahad and perhaps Miina as well. Nevertheless, she must try something as Eve began casting some kind of wind-aligned magic to counter their fall with a burst of gale...

...only for something or someone else to beat her to the punch, and in a far more effective and reliable method too as each and every member of Team Kirin were softly cradled down onto the ground, alive and well, ...except for Izayoi and Esben, but they weren't made worse at least.

A Sollan well into his senior years soon revealed himself, and conventional logic told Eve that he was the one responsible for saving their lives. "..." Hearing his nonchalant attitude prompted the Pseudolon to look up, toward the gaping hole so far above them, the harsh desert sunlight was more like a twinkling star than anything else. Right, they had fallen so deep underground, the bearded hermit here likely didn't notice the battle raging above, or he's such a powerful and enlightened sage that he couldn't care less about such trivial concerns, or both.

Still, assuming he was indeed the one who saved her comrades, the least he deserved was a show of gratitude, "Thank you, stranger, for saving us." Eve nodded with a small, subtle smile, displaying a more cordial demeanor than Izayoi's interrogating tone, then in yet another display of sagely detachment, the High Caretaker simply introduced himself.

Why do I have the feeling that even if Odin's Pseudolon followed us here... Cid would simply vaporize it out of existence with a wave of his hand?

Deep in her heart, she hoped the High Caretaker of the gods wouldn't notice the baleful entity hosted within Rudolf and go hostile, and the only silver lining Eve could rely on was Cid not already provoked by her abominable existence.

"We're Team Kirin, those who aim to stop Valheim's tyranny and end the Blight or die trying, High Caretaker Cid." Eve took it upon herself to... socialize, driven by her concern for the party and the myriad of ways they could provoke the sage, from Izayoi's harsh tone to Rudolf's... wrongness.

"Then, we shall oblige, Caretaker..." Thus, Eve began explaining concisely and succinctly what she knew about the Blight, the disasters they had wrought upon the continents, how it was manufactured by Valheim (accidentally or otherwise), and citing theories of the connection by referencing their disgusting experiments with the very sanctity of life, creating abominations that shouldn't exist and how the world itself was possibly affected. "...thus we believe if we stop Valheim, then the Blight too shall end."

Much as he might have liked to partake in the discussion blossoming forth around the Blight, High Caretaker Cid, and the broader mechanics at play regarding their quest, young man Rudi found himself concerned with more basic issues.

“khhahk—kaff—“

His breathing was already ragged as the adrenaline of the fight left his body, but as he’d rolled over to his hands and knees once they made landfall, he’d discovered wetness and burn on his throat, and clearing it out revealed pinpricks of crimson in the low light of the chamber.

Gingerly, he held a hand to his adam’s apple, tested a deep and slow breath cycle, then a swallow—

And winced as a needle drove itself through the base of his neck. Right about where the shield’s name had erupted out from him, if he had to guess. Not fun, talking wasn’t gonna be fun at all if they expected more than a whisper.

And as luck would have it…

What’s the damage?

Silence on the other end of the line. Tuckered out after the power draw. Useless bastard…

His head was swimming, but after that display, he knew he was gonna have a lot to answer for.

He needed to take this moment where he had it and get things straight on his own. While Eve laid down the state of affairs of the Kirins, Rudolf set his mind to disentangling the minute that had just passed, regardless of fatigue.

He’d gotten there in time, given that Izayoi was not only still breathing, but able to sit up and talk, getting this conversation with Cid started in the first place. Good… After that, though?

It had been close. Way too close. He’d bought everybody a moment by arresting the thing’s momentum in the first place, Svalinn managing to hold back Ame-no-Habakiri where he knew any of his fighting blades would fail. He’d bought a second, technically, with the surprise of that moment… but it wasn’t going to last.

As his memory began to clear, he could see the shield of darkness begin to crack as the Revenant had begun to press in anew. He could feel the phantoms of the tenebrous magic beginning to strain against the strength, the weight, the miraculous cutting edge…

He gazed at his quaking palm, no longer host to black flames that felt like a leaden weight. Scuffed, pale, and scarred aplenty, he had little doubt that all the training in the world that the Sagramori could have toughened him up with wouldn’t have mattered against the sword splitting him down the middle.

He gulped down iron, salt, and sand, and tried to keep his breath steady as that sank in.

The others hadn’t sprung into action a moment too soon. Miina clearly had to have healed Izayoi while he defended her… Galahad’s orders had reached his ears all but a second afterward. With them, the swell of a spectral orchestra. He’d felt his muscles redouble in vigor, but the magic in turn was leaving him—

And as the attacks of the Kirins hit, Arton had been there, pulling its attention in the crucial moments after it had caught Galahad’s halberd upon its blade, abandoning the push through to Rudolf wholly. That was right. With Izayoi and Miina behind the scenes, Ciradyl’s song bolstering their ability, and Robin and Elly sailing in from the side, going for the major arteries of the armpit, he’d also tried to join the fray… What about Esben? He’d lost track of the Skaeller Agent after the Dance.

“…Did everyone make it—“

The gloomy young man pulled himself to his feet, trying to project as much as he could with the torn throat, with the fear of bringing their eyes onto him—

—Nrgh!—

And staggered back to the floor, brutally made aware now of the fact that his right knee felt like it was made of molten glass. That was right, he’d felt something go in that initial burst of speed. That was structural… The joint of his knee? One of the major ligaments? How had he stood at all for Svalinn, then..? How had he tried to circle around from the blind spot Arton’s strong frame had made?



…

Eve’s stone fist had gotten there first. Then… the world had erupted.

First into force.

Then, to flame and thunder.

Finally… vertigo.

And then they were here.

He glanced around where he sat, taking in the temple, taking in the faint filaments of sunlight from high above, and taking in the Kirins, all strewn about around him, Cid the Greybeard at the fore.

“…Where… are we?”

Oh, good, she didn't have to try and remember something to stop from plummeting to her death—

She should probably learn something like that, just in case. It was unlikely she would ever fall when climbing or similar but this had come a little close, so she should really prepare just in case. Maybe she could even ask while they were here? If she could think of a way to do it that wouldn't be too much of a bother to this priest…

"Um, I'll g-g-go see if anyone else n-needs healing…" She didn't want to leave Izayoi in such a state, but it wasn't like she was the only person in the group that had been taken out. Just the one most urgently in need of healing… she could see that Rudolf had gotten wounded? But they didn't need to run at the moment, prioritising could leave him for later. That meant… there he was!

Well, Esben was conscious at least…? He definitely hadn't been taking the heat well, but it didn't seem like he was too badly off. Still, she could provide healing. And if she dug around inside her coat… yes, she still had some water. "H-Here, drink t-this…"

Still, if this was the worst of it, she coudl then go round and try to fix that leg injury while everyone was talking.

---

---

Sand.

I hate sand.

Esben coughed and spat, his head lifted just enough that he wasn't covering his own face with saliva and the cursed sand as he tried to clear his mouth. After a moment of that, he rolled over, eyes shut as hard against the sun as they had been against the sand itself—and struggled to force some semblance of order on his jumbled senses, his balance unable to properly tell up from down when he knew, logically, he was lying in the desert.

The sun beat harsh against a face that was already wind-burnt, skin abraded by the dust that blew with every gust. He raised his left arm to try and shield it—cursed at the sudden, shooting pain in his wrist and forearm, matching the ache in his chest.

Realized he couldn't hear his own cursing past the ringing in his ears.

"Hvi—"

He let the arm drop, opening his eyes to the light around him. Everything was a blur, inasmuch as there was anything to focus on in the sky above; but he could catch flashes of movement in his peripheral vision, or the bright flare at the end of a gun barrel. He closed his eyes again, coughed once more. "Djevelen. Right." He could feel blood on his face as well, likely from his nose; the weight of the beast tackling him like it did had forced his arm right back into his body, and his fist was barely higher than his nose. Hopefully that wasn't broken.

His weapons. He had to find those, force himself back into the fight—

The ringing started to subside as he rolled up onto one elbow, and back over, barely keeping himself up off the sands. His sword landed nearest him, that was quickly found. The yelling of the others was still indistinct as he cast about for his buckler, but at least he could tell the difference between the voices and the ambient sound now.



He took his buckler in hand, started to struggle, first to his knees, then hopefully to his feet—gunfire erupted around him and the rest, the ringing returning with a vengeance and threatening to leave him just as disoriented as when he'd first started trying to move.

And the ground shattered beneath the group, sending Esben tumbling below, all sense of balance lost.

---

Esben's sword and buckler clattered to the stone floor as he touched down, soft as a feather, and still he crumpled back to the floor once the full force of gravity took over. He had his eyes shut tight, trying once again to right himself within the void by force of will—focused upon the rock beneath him to the exclusion of all else. Some voice he didn't know was speaking with the others, but when faced with trying to figure out what was being said or the risk of losing the contents of his stomach, it was more important that he avoid that embarrassment. Bad enough that he'd been taken out of the fight so rapidly.

After a few moments it subsided again, and he could push himself up—to his knees, and then he slid back to a normal sitting position. He opened his eyes, looking around at the others—the blood all over the front of Izayoi's clothing stood out first, followed by Rudolf, falling down hard to one knee—just as a burst of red hair filled his vision, worried green eyes and flushed cheeks coming into focus as his eyes slowly adjusted.

She was holding something out to him, but between the ringing he'd already had in his ears and the cannon barrage that had made it worse, he was having to try and read her lips more than he could really hear anything she was saying.

Drink, he thought he caught.

"Hold kjeft, Mini," he grumbled, his hoarse, almost-unrecognizable voice sounding distant in his own ears—but at least he could start focusing in on it. "I can't catch up. What are you holding..." His eyes crossed, the vertigo coming on again for a moment—focused again, and he could recognize the canteen for what it was. With a sigh of relief he took the water, taking a few sips just to try and ease the pain in his throat. He'd need something else for the headache, undoubtedly. "Thank you, thank you—go focus on one of the others, I should be alright for now. Rudi looks like he's just aged ten years since we started."

Unceremoniously dismissing the diminutive red mage, he turned around, trying to gain the positions of the others...found Éliane and Eve a short distance away, and raised his free arm to point at them, wincing again at the pain in it and his chest. "Eve, Elly..."

The arm bent, shaking slightly and pointing at a nose that was misshapen at least as much by the expression on his face as he forced the injured limb to bend as by any injury it may have sustained.

"...It's not broken, is it?"

---

It seemed that despite their best efforts, this damnable monstrosity just wouldn't die. It was more durable than any foe they'd faced so far, and much faster to boot. Galahad could barely keep his eyes on it whenever it moved. It felt like Izayoi, a much faster, stronger- and if it were even possible- more bloodthirsty version of the Kirin's samurai companion. Even as the party came at it from all sides, the creature could be hurt, but it wasn't going down.

Galahad staggered as his halberd was parried, the reverberating metal close to flying out of his grip as he recoiled. Before he could fully recover, the magical shockwave sent the Kirins scattering across the ground. Rising unsteadily to his knee, Galahad managed to catch the revenant glancing back at the airship before it disappeared. From the airship itself he spotted a spark of orange fire.

"Incoming!"

Falling wasn't an unusual feeling for the Dragoon. The air whipping around his body and the way it rattled his armor was familiar to him. What was unfamiliar was the sheer darkness that surrounded him as he fell, and the manner in which they were sent falling. He was tumbling. Somewhere along the way, Wyrmfang was wrenched from his hand. Was he dying? Around him he saw the fluttering forms of his comrades plummeting through the darkness. His arm reached out try and grab at one of them as he instinctively began trying to correct his own fall. How far to the bottom, he had no idea, it was too dark to tell.

He saw magic winds wrapping around his friends and knew that meant they weren't dead yet. It also meant that they were nearing the ground. Righting himself, Galahad came in contact with the ground. A three point landing- less graceful than he was used to, but still in one piece. A few seconds later, he heard the sound of sundering stone as his halberd crashed into the floor, embedding itself in the stone.

"Everyone alive?" Galahad's voice called out, taking in the cavern around them. A settlement, or a temple of some sort- lit by the faint reflections of crystal stones, or something similar. Ahead of them, an older man identified himself as Cid, a caretaker of this place. Eve explained to him a bit of what their purpose was, but the larger details could wait until after they've found a place to set down properly.

"Caretaker Cid. Our apologies for dropping in unannounced," Galahad winced, "But we may need to trouble you for assistance. Many of our number are wounded after a battle with Valheim."

Galahad glanced up towards where they fell from, but saw no semblance of a hole, only darkness- just how far had they fallen? "Perhaps we can continue this conversation as we move to shelter of some sort?"

Stopping by Izayoi, Galahad offered the mystrel woman his hand and helped put her weight on his shoulder. Pride or not, the samurai was gravely injured and wasn't going to be able to stand on her own.

---

Éliane had already seen a lot of shit on this –technically still short—journey outside of Skael. But between the unexpected revenant that turned out to be Izayoi’s master, who had nearly killed everyone, and then the Valheimian airship returning and then blasting an hole in the sandy ground, revealing a cavern occupied by a hermit cleric…

Well, the Skaelan officer was just about as incredulous as Izayoi.

The fact that she was alive was nearly a miracle itself.

The fact that everyone, including herself, were still alive at the moment was incredible. Team Kirin was not a team of dragoons, after all, and while Éliane liked to think her skills at jumping were far better than the average person or fighter, it was still a long fall. It was still clear that others were injured, either from the battle or the fall—and she knew that Miina would have her work cut out for her.

The pink-haired woman heard Esben’s weak voice as he fumbled for his canteen, catching her attention. She frowned at his appearance. Éliane quickly decided that the others could do the talking for now, and a moment later, she was by her fellow countryman’s side as she knelt down.

She blinked as she realized what exactly he was asking.

Yes, it was misshapen. Broken, probably. But… really?

“Yes, it’s broken. Shouldn’t you be worrying about your arm, and the battle?” Éliane pointed at his shaking arm, which looked worse for the wear. “Lie down and wait for Miina to come back around to you,” she commanded.

---

Arton barely ducked underneath a swing that threatened to take his head as the Revenant's new trophy. The monster's blade grazed his pauldron as he narrowly sidestepped the follow-up attack. A sharp metallic ping resonated in his ears as he deflected a thrust off to the side, a fierce vibration shooting up his arm. Arton wasn't sure if he was getting better at reading the Revenant's attacks or if they were too distracted to deliver a concentrated strike. He had to be conservative with blocking with his shield as he could feel the metal groan and flex with each strike block. Distracted or not, he did not seem to be slowing in the slightest.

He thought with it being trapped in the stone fist they would finally be able to deal some meaningful damage. The shockwave of energy came unexpected and he had barely enough time to turn onto his side as he was taken off his feet. The sand did not make it easier to stand back up but Arton did so quickly, sand running down the grooves of his armor. His grip tightened as the Revenant seemed to register the entire party and prepare something, likely that attack that wouldn't killed them earlier. Instead...it vanished? A torrent of cannon fire assailed their position, though inaccurate, and shattered the ground beneath their feet.

Arton groaned as he found himself on his back for the third time, staring up at a distant light in the incredibly deep hole they found themselves in. With a bit of effort, he pulled himself onto his feet and looked up the rest of the party. That fight had been rougher than anything they had gone up against before. As his eyes registered the temple, he couldn't help but feel as though the gods had intervened on their behalf. "I'm still kicking." He replied to Galahad's callout. He felt a flutter of relief as he heard Izayoi's voice, seeing Miina walking away from her.

He walked over to Rudolf, seeing as the rest of the wounded were being taken care off, and began to examine him for injuries. Arton was no healer but he was pretty adept at first aid "Bottom of a deep hole. That gentleman over there made sure we didn't splatter at the bottom." He spoke plainly. Arton was not sure what to make of what he had seen Rudolf become up there. He reminded himself that everyone had their secrets. For now, he would simply be thankful for Rudolf's efforts.

---

Ether continued to flow into Ciradyl and carry into her voice, forming invisible threads between herself and the rest of the party. The effects would be even more potent if she had her violin with her. This was the first time since the invasion that she had utilized this gift of hers and it was proving to be more straining than she thought. The sight of Galahad's halberd piercing some armor gave her additional determination to keep going. They were finally getting through so she couldn't afford to stop now.

Sand blasted into her from the force of the energy eruption and she was forced to cease her ballad, lifting her hands in front of her face to shield herself. Her eyes managed to catch the airship in the distance as she reacquired the Revenant in her sight. Ciradyl's gaze snapped back towards the airship as the Revenant's head turned and saw the balls of fire and smoke rise from its cannons "INCOMING!" She had only gotten the first half of the word out before the ground around them was struck and collapsed.

Ciradyl fell onto her hands and knees as they reached the bottom, grateful for the intervention of some generous soul. She twisted in place and sat onto the ground, hands propping herself up before her mint eyes widened at the quite large temple in front of them. That was strange enough on its own but the fact this temple had a guardian made it miraculous. The sight of Cid caused her to bounce onto her feet and quickly dust herself off, approaching the others who were talking with him ""We are being pursued, Caretaker, by an unrelenting monster. I fear that we will not be able to take in your wisdom for long." The strain from singing earlier could be heard in the raspy sound of her voice.

She looked up as if to demonstrate to Cid where they were expecting to be attacked from. Ciradyl's eyes squinted as she activated her long range materia and scanned the dark abyss for any signs of movement. Her expression relaxed as she looked back down at Cid, unable to see anything yet. The had a moment to catch their breath it seemed "Do you know where this sickness is coming from?" Ciradyl wanted to ask before anything else.

"Thank you, my child. That is...good to know. Highly alarming, yet good to know, regardless." Cid smiled to Eve before nodding in acknowledgement of Galahad's contribution. He waited patiently for the Kirins to recover before gesturing for them to follow him inside the temple itself, Izayoi begrudgingly taking Galahad's aid in standing and walking.

The temple itself was a magnificent work of art, decorated with frescoes and stained glass in honor of the gods. For all its glory, however, Cid deigned to simply sit down cross-legged upon the floor, inviting the party to join him.

"Please, be at ease." He said to Ciradyl especially, laying his staff upon his lap. "This is sacred ground, and I will defend it with my life, this I swear. Now, on to the meat of the matter," His expression turned grave.

"This malaise you dub the Blight is not a new phenomenon. It has ravaged Arbor, the continent the Valheimr originate from, for nigh on a century. Why else do you believe they have come here, seizing land as they go? Their continent is dead. And the hubris of their rulers doomed it."

"And you would know this how, holy man?" Izayoi challenged, though with minimal hostility. Either she didn't have the energy to muster, or the temple itself convinced her somewhat of Cid. "By your own account, you have not left these grounds."

"Simple," Cid chuckled, taking no offense. "My life is extended by Etro's grace. In exchange, I am bound to Her sacred ground. All of it. As High Caretaker, I am able to traverse from holy site to holy site in an instant, but by covenant, I cannot leave it. And Arbor had holy ground of its own. You are not the first group of warriors I have advised in this quest. Even the Valheimr had heroes among them willing to oppose their emperor's tyranny. Unfortunately, they failed." The old man took a moment to marshal his thoughts before continuing.

"A century ago, Valheim was merely one nation among several on Arbor. Then, its reigning emperor conducted a blasphemous ritual, developed through decades of abusing dark magics. He siphoned Etro's very light from the land itself. In its absence, vile beasts plagued the land and razed the earth wherever they appeared. Shattered villages rot beneath the cruel sun and the blood of the innocent tainted the soil. Indeed, the absence of the Mothercrystal's Light from the land gives rise to rot, taint, and corruption: the Blight."

"Of course, Valheim had something to gain from this. In an instant, the nation it was on the verge of defeat against in war collapsed. Bound as I am to sacred ground, I could not intervene directly. Instead, I attempted to guide and advise heroes from across Arbor to stop Valheim. Those Warriors of Light failed, to a man." He bowed his head mournfully.

"The process repeated over the decades. Valheim weaponized its leeching of Light to dominate the continent, ensuring that it was the only nation standing after a century of conflict and tragedy. As to what they do with the Light, my knowledge only extends so far. Please, take a moment to gather yourselves, and then I will tell you what must be done."

Luckily, the High Caretaker didn't take offense to any of the 'abominations' treading upon his goddess' sacred grounds, either through compassion or disinterest, it mattered not, the party couldn't afford another fight right now, especially not against the chosen of a deity.

Just after Eve finished explaining what she knew, she heard her name being called, prompting the Pseudolon to turn her gaze at the tallest Skaeler among them. She blinked once, getting a good look at the spy's profile before simply concluding, "What Eliane said." Though she wished she could do more, her expertise was more along the lines of causing rather than reversing harm. "You can also use our potions." There we go, that should be good enough.

Upon Galahad's suggestion, the party - plus Cid - entered the temple grounds proper. Eve's crimson irises reflected the divine opulence on display. It'd be such a shame if Valheim and their False Odin followed them here, she sincerely hoped her assumptions about Cid's divine-ordained powers weren't too far off.

The Faux Bahamut sat down seiza-style across the High Caretaker then lent her earless ears to everything he had to say, every single piece of information about the Blight, Valheim, and how they were all connected, vindicating her animosity toward her so-called creators. By the end of it, instead of burning rage, Eve felt... relief, the tranquil serenity of discovering that the Kirins' cause was truly righteous. All of those people she had killed, the suffering and death she had inflicted, those were all against individuals serving true evil. Whatever Rudolf hosted only felt wrong and eldritch, but Valheim... they were worse than the Blight and it's their moral-bound duty to rid the world of their taint.

"I can tell you at least one, High Caretaker," Eve spoke up as she used a hand to gesture at herself, at her unsollanic features on an otherwise Sollan girl, "Among other crimes against nature, they must have used Etro's divine essence to acquire the Primals' as well, then they exploited these ill-gotten gains to make my kind. I was created using Bahamut's, the creature we just fought was likely spawned using Odin's, but I know for certain that there are more out there; corruptions of the world's divine pantheon, wielded like warhounds... how utterly revolting."

Sighing harshly, Eve gritted her teeth, "So, please, High Caretaker, tell me-... us how to end this, all of this, for good!"

@Ithradine

It took a little coaxing. A moment's trepidation had passed between the two swordsman from far south of here, now whole worlds removed. Rudolf was keenly attuned to this much, reading the unsurety from the approaching Kirin all too easily. That moment of tension, of the two sizing up how one another would react, where exactly they stood from one another, was as eternity to him...

But it then passed.

Arton was still here. So was he.

Choice in the matter or otherwise.

Both enigmatic to the other, be it through that which had been revealed, or remained occluded. But still here, everyone looking after everyone. At least for now.

“Throat's rough, but I'll live. Yelled too much.“ the younger man began at length, as he followed Arton's lead and spoken in a quiet, factual, even tone. This was a very well-learned and honed stoicism, one that drew upon the border of sterilized— and in keeping with that, he seemed to still instinctively want to shrink away beneath the field examination. The mask of soldiery was all that kept him from turning tail and running—



—Metaphorically speaking. Literally, of course, there were far more immediate things locking him in with them, no matter what he wanted. He continued his boilerplate self-diagnosis.

"Knee's shot. Not taking weight. Not a fracture, but something in the joint snapped when I got between that thing and Izayoi. Ligament, tendon maybe."

Cid waved them inward. Rudolf's eyes narrowed, and from somewhere within the flowing cloth that had shielded him from the sun produced a knife, mundane and utilitarian as any.

"Brace. I can make do." he said, clipped as he retreated into the task of cutting free a length and tying it around the rebellious joint in a criss-crossing, tresslike pattern. Very far from perfect, nothing but tension to isolate movement to the saggital plane, but compression was compression nonetheless.

As you would expect, Arton, with his greater experience in the field and actual use cases of first aid, politely waited out all this and the tentative rise up from a pistol squat, before offering his shoulder so they could get a move on at a pace quicker than a hobble or hop. As much as Rudi wanted to save some sort of face, find some sort of protest within himself, he knew more than anything when he recognized a battle he wasn't winning.

...

...

He remained steadfastly quiet throughout the High Caretaker's lecture for a number of reasons, the most minor of which perhaps being his raw windpipe. Circumstance had already left him little room to doubt to old man, given the one-two punch of everyone's safe landing (even he had belatedly realized the fall oddly softer than he'd expect of the height) and now the temple itself, splendid and unmistakable in its iconography to Etro. Even if, he noted at the back of his mind, the style had to place it a real long time back.

But in thinking of ancient temples, in turn, his already-pale features now began to seem one shade closer to Eve than before, as the worldly mechanics that the disease upon the land they faced stemmed from were revealed... and struck the very same chord he'd dared not touch until today.

To turn one's back on the light of the Mothercrystal was sin enough. If dark rituals like that could cause a festering, twisted rot like the Blight to bloom through the land itself, then... what about one man?

What did that mean for a contract like his?

Was there a similar fate for him, brewing in the void left when his fortune had burned away?

Cid's face ran through a gamut of emotions at Eve's words. Anger, concern, sympathy, all shown in turn before he eventually nodded.

"I was aware of this possibility. It certainly explains why I felt Bahamut's essence up above earlier. To create life unbidden by the order of the Mother and the Seven is a sin, but the beings artificed from such sin do not inherit it. Lest they choose to do so, of course. To be as you are is no crime, girl. You did not choose to inherit the Dreadwyrm's essence. However," He closed his eyes briefly, shaking his head.

"My magics detected no trace of Odin's power. Whatever it is you faced, it has naught to do with the Eidolons."

"Undead." Izayoi cut in, her gaze far off. "It must be. I killed him. I buried him."

"A soulless affront to Etro's order." Cid's expression darkened. "Regardless, we will cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, we return to the matter at hand." His gaze swept out over the party, softening slightly at Rudolf's troubled expression, though he said nothing further to him for now. Instead, Cid slumped slightly, his age showing.

"Four elemental crystals across the continent channel the light of the gods and convert it to the flow of elemental aether that balances and regulates nature. Water in Drana Asaneu flows to nourish the land. Wind in Skael carries the seeds of life wheresoever it blows. Earth in Edren cultivates and shelters that life. Fire in Osprey brings about cleansing destruction so that new life is free to flourish."

"Valheim cannot be allowed to seize the crystals. Here in Osprey, the Crystal of Fire is already lost to their clutches. For the moment, you must travel to each crystal in the other nations and ensure that they do not fall to darkness and Blight. Be warned, however: each elemental crystal has a guardian. Judging by their charges' corruption, they may also become equally as Blighted. Should that be the case, you must slay them. The Fire Crystal's guardian is...already lost to us." Cid shook his head mournfully at that before steeling himself.

"I would advise caution. Valheim knows of the importance of the crystals as well, and will surely send their forces to seize them. Now," He rose, supporting himself up to his feet with his staff. "That is all the guidance I possess to provide for the moment. From this point onward, the rest is up to you. Though I can speed your way to the surface-"

WHAM.

The doors of the cathedral slammed open, revealing the Revenant, sword in hand. Cid's eyes widened in alarm, and he brandished his staff aloft with one hand.

"Abomination! You will not pass one step further into sacred ground!" He slammed the butt of his staff onto the floor, and firey aether welled up around him. "By covenant, by binding, I call upon flame and fury! Lord of hellfire! I summon thee, come, Ifrit!"

A horned, demonic beast emerged in a burst of flame, roaring in savage fury at the Revenant. Izayoi moved to draw her sword as well, but froze as she saw a magic glyph emerge into existence below not just herself, but every single Kirin as well.

"What...?"

"Fly, all of you! You are in no condition to face a foe of this magnitude!" Cid bellowed back in the direction of the party, gesturing Ifrit forward to lunge towards the armored titan. "You are this continent's first and final hope! I will not see you lost!"

Izayoi snarled in fury as the teleport circles began to activate, Ifrit's fist bearing down all the while. The last thing any Kirin saw before the world faded into a flash of white was the Revenant dashing past and inside Ifrit's attack range to deliver a slash that sent the Eidolon of flame crashing back among the pews of the cathedral, Cid gritting his teeth in determination all the while.

___

When the Kirins next opened their eyes, they found themselves back on the surface, the ruins of the village barely on the horizon. In comparison, the airship supporting the Revenant was but a speck in their eyes. Too far away to have any chance of making it back for an assault from the party before night fell or it left the area.

Izayoi regained her bearings, looking around with her expression still furious for but a few moments before she seemed to deflate, weary and still barely able to stand.

"I suppose you have questions for myself specifically." She looked back toward the others, exhausted. "Considering what we were just told...I require time to marshal my own thoughts. Once we make camp, I will provide what I know of," Her breath caught slightly, and she turned away. "Him."