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The sky had begun to bruise with the hues of dusk. Suspended within shimmering azure halos, the draconic Beast-Devil loomed, its body encased in deep navy scales.
Four Holy Maidens had committed themselves to the fray against Managloa. Holy Queen Vyzoa, wielding her specialized gun-type Blitz units, and the long-range specialist Bernaz, rained fire upon the creature. Izdayl, the bulwark of the group, braced herself against the relentless lashing of its tail, while Parvaz focused every ounce of her concentration on augmenting the team’s speed to evade the lethal discharge of lightning.
Yet, even with the combined might of the Ezaris Kingdom’s finest, Managloa remained unyielding.
“Dammit, this thing is a fortress! Vyzoa! We’re fighting a losing game of attrition at this rate!”
Bernaz’s voice cracked over the roar of thunder. Her four Blitz units unleashed a synchronized volley of shells. Each strike found its mark, blooming in fire against the beast’s flank, but the navy scales remained unscratched—not a single mark to show for her effort.
“I see it. Half-measures won’t even dent that hide,” Vyzoa replied, her body a blur of motion as she spiraled through the air. She sought the beast’s blind spots, delivering precision shots that would have felled a lesser monster in seconds. Even as two of the most elite sharpshooters in history, they were failing to push back this anomaly.
Vyzoa’s mind raced, using her sensory Divine Pulse to read the trajectories of the lightning bolts before they even formed, shifting her weight in mid-air to dodge by a hair’s breadth while returning fire. Every movement, every evasion, every shot—it was a heavy tax on their Aetheric reserves.
“I’ll hold the line!” Izdayl screamed.
She caught a punishing blow from the beast’s tail on her massive shield. The kinetic force sent her hurtling backward, her boots carving rifts in the air as she struggled to stabilize. It was a purely defensive struggle; she was being pushed to her absolute limit.
“What is this thing…? Its power is off the charts,” Parvaz breathed.
Positioned at the rear, she maintained a delicate psychic link with her three comrades, pouring her power into their limbs to keep them one step ahead of death. The onslaught of lightning and tail-swipes was a relentless wave of violence, unlike anything any Maiden had ever faced in the history of the Covenant.
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