Divine Beast Ascension

Freele recounted her brief conversation with the drake and shook her head with a self-mocking grin.

Fellow members of the task force were over the moons to see their weakest member bring the first perennial down. Sure, the perennial was still alive. But he wouldn’t be able to fight any time soon, not unless he could resolve the turmoil of his soul in record time. Such a display of trickery and ability was more than fitting for someone on their task force, enough to remove any lingering doubts regarding the drake’s sudden addition to their group.

“How’s it feel?” Marsel laughed in the face of his assassin opponent. “It must feel great to see one of your capable, powerful men succumb to a mortal?”

The mid-perennial assassin didn’t speak back. He merely sharpened his leer at the fiery Marsel.

Shrouded in darkness, the assassin let Marsel’s flaming axe cleave through himself. The assassin’s body abruptly dispersed into wisps of darkness as his true body leaned to the side and stabbed forward with a rapier.

But Marsel countered by slightly leaning away. It allowed a glancing blow but kept him right on top of the assassin, even letting his axe get halfway to the boss assassin’s shoulder. “Calm down, already. You’re out to kill others but can’t accept the fact that people want you dead? This is what we hate about Blood Moon.”

The boss assassin narrowly sidestepped the incoming axe by weakening his attack and pulling back, still silent.

“Oh, come on! Speak up, Ranon, the Pale Moon Killer!”

.....

That finally got the boss assassin to break his usual, bloodthirsty demeanor. Instead, the assassin’s eyes nearly turned red out of pure blood lust and complete loathing. “How do you know that name–”

“Marsel Neelon, at your service!”

“Neelon?!” Ranon shouted in fury! “Then he’s–”

“Lambier Fenzar, also at your service!” Lambier shouted with a hint of a cackle in his voice, interrupting that assassin’s shout.

As if following a script, Lambier and Marsel shouted in raging unison, “Founders of the Flaming Gale, fulfiller of all your mercenary needs!”

Both assassin bosses evaded the attacks accompanying that shout. But they couldn’t avoid the mental shock of that verbal blow.

“Why else would we be ecstatic to finally claim your heads?!” Lambier shouted. “This wasn’t even part of the job, but I guess fate’s paying us an early bonus. Or do you disagree, Dallad, the Bolt of Blood!?”

Both assassin bosses tried to stare holes into their opponents’ skulls. Furious to be discovered and named in front of so many people, it cemented their need to slaughter everyone present instead of simply fleeing.

“How dare the ill-guided remnants of such a fragile guild make such claims,” spat Ranon. “You should’ve just kept cowering and hiding like you have for years. Then perhaps you could’ve survived!”

Frrrsh! C-clang…

“Aaa–”

Before the Blood Moon bosses could fully retort and retaliate, a woeful cry rang out as one of their men was disarmed by Hurman. The assassin’s sword fell to the ground along with his severed arm. And the assassin’s yell was cut off along with his head.

C-c-crack! FRRRIPP!! “AaAaagGHhh!!”

A second wail of agony filled the air as another assassin was disarmed. Only, the splatter of blood, the crunch of bones, and the tearing of flesh rang out in synch with the scream. Such was the result of a low-perennial’s attack being too shallow and the hulking gorilla snatching that human up. Hurdo even allowed the other low-perennial assassin to freely attack the gorilla’s essence armor while Hurdo took his time ripping the assassin’s arm off, one tug at a time.

Cries of death weren’t new to the assassins. However, it was rare that they fought a straightforward battle of this scale. And it was even rarer for them to hunt and kill perennial beasts.

The mercenaries under the Mottz family were accustomed to such jobs, yet they winced at the gore and boundless confidence of the perennial gorilla.

So, of course, the elder and early-perennial assassins were the most affected by the spectacle. Technically, only a single assassin had died so far. But one perennial laid on the ground, spasming and struggling to control his own essence. The dead perennial not only had his head lopped off but also his arm before that. Not even a moment later, a third perennial had his arm ripped off over a span of three long seconds. And that same wailing assassin was now being held by his legs and swung around as an on-the-fly, ragdoll flail by the towering, demonic ape.

Within minutes, all the assassins were slammed with the demoralizing reality of their situation. That this wasn’t a battle for them to win. It was a battle for them to survive.

Standing his ground with help from Leader Tranton, Reuben Mottz heaved a subconscious sigh of relief. Reuben finally had confirmation that he had chosen the correct side.

Tranton Forell had different thoughts running through his head. He had never doubted Hurman or the task force that Hurman had assembled. However, Tranton also hadn’t given them as much credit or as high of an estimation as they deserved.

*I’ve been a mid-perennial for years. Hurman wasn’t even a perennial five years ago…* Tranton’s mind couldn’t help but compare them. *Yet he’s the one pressuring them. And I’m the one struggling to take control of my battle. And then there’s the gorilla… He’s not even one of the clan leaders, but he’s that powerful?! …*

While holding his own and keeping his foes on their toes, Tranton’s thoughts spiraled more and more toward how incapable he was for his realm of cultivation.

“How dare you?!” trying to sling verbal venom, the fire-wielding perennial let his essence run rampant. He burned the shadow tendrils trying to hold him back with full force and rushed the mortal drake with no power withheld. “You’ll pay with your life!”

Oli was smiling but he didn’t say anything in reply. He pulled the ice knife from his chest and backed away from the fiery early-perennial with haste.

As flames streaked toward Oli, he either sped up in evasion or spat a fireball while narrowly dodging. Though, when Oli’s purple flames failed to do anything against the flames clad about the perennial, he abandoned that second tactic. That left Oli with only his ultimate strategy for a guaranteed victory.

The drake circled the perennial as nearby trees were being doused in flames with the perennial not caring about the environmental damage whatsoever.

“Filthy lizard!” screamed the perennial. “Burn and join the ashes of your ancestors!”

After a minute of evasion, Oli suddenly stopped. As the drake opened his mouth, Purple flames and the murky dark-death essence combined into a single stream, erupting toward the nearby perennial.

Using that moment to finally land a hit and keep that death essence off of himself, the fire perennial unleashed a bright orange fireball that plowed through the black and purple flames.

Fizzzzle! “AAAAHHH!?!”

Before the flaming perennial could realize what was happening, the drake had suddenly moved a few krin to the side with a dark battle art. And in place of the drake, it was the downed, spasming perennial that yelled in horror.

The fireball was dispersed immediately. That saved the downed perennial’s life, but it wasn’t done fast enough to save the twitching perennial from the lasting damage of the attack.

“YOU?!!” the fire perennial roared.

“Don’t forget where you are!” the drake cackled and flapped away, creating even more distance between them.

Though the fire perennial wasn’t considered fast among his peers, he was still a perennial assassin. There was no way he was going to let a mortal beast tease, taunt, and humiliate him in such a disparaging way.

When the flaming perennial gave chase, Oli smirked and focused on evasive maneuvers. All he had to do now was fly and speed up.

The fire perennial rushed behind the drake with everything he had. Every step was filled with rage and thirst for vengeance! Every attack he launched was fueled by the flames of anger inside him! Everything was going wrong. He had failed to fulfill his orders. But he wouldn’t let his mortal prey escape!

Crack! Th-thud!

A new set of sounds suddenly caught the flaming perennial’s attention. After losing track of his surroundings once, the assassin wouldn’t do it again.

And the assassin’s heart sank the moment he spotted what was in front of him.

Just ahead of the speeding drake, a tree had been cracked by a human flail and fell to the ground. Wielding that bloody, broken, deceased corpse as a weapon was the hulking gorilla. And, attempting to flee from the gorilla, a low-perennial was heading straight for them.

“Get away!” the low-perennial shouted in peril as he sped up as much as possible. He didn’t even try to attack the drake out of fear of getting slowed.

The drake, however, chose to attack the low-perennial.