🌐 Language / 言語
🇺🇸 [English Edition]
🇯🇵 [日本語版]
The dawn broke, yet it brought no solace. The sky transitioned from a bruised indigo to a suffocating violet, choked by heavy, low-hanging clouds. Faint streaks of crimson bled through the rifts—as if the heavens themselves were weeping through open wounds.
When Uzeltes was five, the silence of her seaside home was shattered by a nightmare rising from the tides. Beast-Devils swarmed the streets, their hunger absolute. The air was thick with the copper tang of blood and the discordant screams of the dying. Cowering beneath her bedsheets, the young Uzeltes could do nothing but let the salt of her tears sting her cheeks.
Her mother, Zeleyk—the visionary architect of the Magid-Soldiers—refused to let their city fall. She climbed into a cockpit of an unfinished prototype, a machine of brass and lightning, to challenge the swarm. The odds were impossible; the Mid-tier Beast-Devils were a force no experimental machine could hope to repulse. Yet, Zeleyk fought until her gears ground to a halt and her heart did the same. She saved the city, but the price was her life.
The image was seared into Uzeltes’ mind: her mother, collapsed and bloodstained within the cockpit of the Magid-Soldier. In the face of that crimson reality, she could do nothing but weep in a void of total despair.
In the decade that followed, Uzeltes lived for a single purpose. Under the care of relatives, she became a phantom of the training grounds. She sought to honor her mother’s sacrifice with every drop of sweat, yet her own body felt like a betrayal. No matter how many thousands of times she swung her practice blade, her frame remained delicate—fragile—hollow. She cursed her small stature, feeling the weight of her inadequacy like a leaden shroud.
One day, consumed by a pure, incandescent rage, she swung a maul as tall as herself into a monolith of rock. It wasn’t a strike; it was a scream.
In that moment of total spiritual collapse, a radiant warmth enveloped her. It was the Revelation of Ioks. She was gifted with Divine Pulse—a psychokinetic aptitude that defied the laws of nature. Her power was an anomaly; she could manipulate masses triple the weight of a standard maiden with the ease of a conductor leading an orchestra.
She commissioned two custom Maul-type Blitz units—twin engines of destruction to house her will. On the battlefield, she was no longer the weeping girl under the bed. As she struck down the Beast-Devils with the grace of a dancer, she appeared like a silver flower blooming upon the field of battle.
Then came the day she faced the Great Beast-Devil—a titan that had reduced the populace to cowering shadows. Uzeltes didn’t hesitate. She gripped the handles of her Blitz units.
In the heat of the fierce battle, Uzeltes’ body grew exhausted, and as the price of overexerting her Divine Pulse, fresh blood trickled from her eyes and ears. Yet, her heart held a conviction that remained unyielding.
I will protect what she died for, she vowed.
With a roar , Uzeltes delivered a killing blow. The twin mauls collided with the titan’s skull, obliterating bone and divinity alike.
As the massive carcass skidded across the silent battlefield, Uzeltes wept. Not out of grief, but because she had finally proven the righteousness of her mother’s life with the strength of her own hands.
Before every deployment, she looks to the sky and whispers to the shadows:
“Behold the courage and pride you left behind. “
The Holy Maiden of the Maul marches on, her holy war fueled by a promise that will never die.