Veronica crawled along the ground, mustering every bit of strength she could into her body. The magical energy within her sent mixed signals throughout her bloodstream, hazing her vision and jumbling her thoughts.
It had been approximately fifteen minutes since the strange red light erupted from the sky, forcing her to the floor.
In many ways, it was a humiliation she had never felt in her life. Even when faced with the threat of death, she was someone who always stood with pride and determination. Being forced to kneel by something magical, not even a person, was an insult so great that she felt the acid in her stomach rising up and down her throat, threatening to spew out.
But engaging in such natural matters was also disgusting to her, which led to her forcefully keeping her bile inside. It was a stalemate for the imperial princess, as no matter what route she took to remedy her disdain for the situation, she would be presented with something even worse.
During such peril, she cursed her accessories, ripping them away from her clothes and skin, ferociously tossing them aside to shed as much weight as possible.
Her breathing was labored as sweat dripped from her forehead onto the pristine carpet below, the fabric absorbing every bit of liquid that fell upon it. Behind her was a trail of blood that followed her dress.
It wasn’t blood that belonged to her, but instead, the dozens of enemies she was forced to strike down mere moments earlier.
The path in front of and behind Veronica was exactly the same, riddled with identical patterns on both ends. It was a spell she despised using due to its unelegant nature, and having to cast it not only in the academy, but also in the castle was insulting to her.
Large trunks of wood that had surged from the ground pierced the stone floors. Long, freakish branches jutted outward, impaling the dark-cloaked assassins who came after her.
Maids lay unconscious on the floor, struggling to move even a single inch of their bodies. Using her right arm, Veronica pulled herself toward the nearest room, dragging herself forward across the carpet’s nylon surface.
The door to the room was left open, just as she had left it. But a loud howl emanated from within as large gusts of wind blew in from the outside. She overheard the rattling of shattered glass and broken wood clashing against each other.
Her head peeked into her safe space. In front of her was a shattered window, just as she had suspected, and a boy seizing in the bed. His mouth foamed yet remained otherwise unmoving, as if stuck in an endless loop of nightmares.
Imaginary nails slammed against her skull as Veronica slowly but surely began to lose consciousness. Her pride would not allow her to pass out just yet, unwilling to be outdone by the very mudbiter she had insulted not too long ago.
After leaving their conversation, she had been on her way back to her room when she was confronted by the same cultists who attacked her school. Of course, making short work of them was nothing but a piece of cake for the imperial princess.
But the second the barrier was erected, she felt all her strength leave her body.
Veronica crawled up to the bed, leaning her back against the frame as she let out sharp breaths. The ooze of blood stuck to her clothes invaded her nostrils, adding to the nausea that already threatened to overwhelm her.
From her fading line of sight, three cloaked individuals wandered the halls before her, following the route so carefully laid out to them by Viera’s crawling form. The shadows in the crimson night moved swiftly into the room, drawing their pitch-black blades.
Shaking, Veronica raised her arm, but no magic came forth. Her mind commanded her magical gears to start running again, but every fiber of her being refused, prioritizing its own safety over her will.
Frustrated, Veronica’s muscles deflated.
Just as the assassins raised their blades to stab through Veronica’s skin, their bodies inflated ever so slightly before large spikes of ice, formed from their own blood, pierced through their organs.
Immediately, the three fell to the ground, making no sound and offering no reaction to their death sentence.
Clutching the doorframe, Viera poked her head into the room before letting out a tired chuckle.
“I see you’re here too.”
Her voice was all but gone, dry as if she hadn’t taken a sip of water in days. Unlike the elegance and softness her tone once carried, it was now raspy and brittle, as though it might collapse at any moment.
Barely able to keep her eyelids open, Viera stumbled into the room, leaning against the walls for support and guidance. Veronica wanted nothing more than to ask what was happening, but even mustering the strength to speak felt impossible.
The two women, clad in heavy dresses, faced each other, each instinctively watching the other’s back. But a far more gruesome sight revealed itself as Veronica’s gaze traveled across the Queen’s frail body.
Just like the assassins she had killed, long spikes of ice protruded from Viera’s skin, leaving her bleeding from skull to heel. If the ice were replaced with knives, one might assume she had over a hundred blades lodged inside her.
Worse still, the spikes did not remain still. With each passing second, they lengthened, burrowing deeper into her flesh and piercing her organs with merciless resolve. It was as if her own body had turned against her, protesting years of relentless overexertion.
At this rate, Viera Mare would become nothing more than a lifeless doll cast into a thorny bush of roses.
She raised her arm, her Birthmark flaring with an extremely faint blue hue. Blood burst from behind Veronica as the assassins who had slipped through the window were instantly shredded by Viera’s magic.
Huffing, Viera leaned more heavily against the wall. She adjusted her stance carefully so that none of the longer spikes brushed the surface, wary that even the slightest pressure might drive them deeper into her body.
The two royals stared at one another, each understanding that this might be the other’s end. Despite their starkly different views on rulership and authority, they shared the same resolve to protect the innocent.
They had both expended far more magical energy than their bodies could sustain, and the toll was undeniable.
The castle walls trembled as another hiss struck the throne room. Cackling lightning split the air, deafening both women as they braced for yet another bolt. Viera had managed to repel the first two strikes, but by the third, her magic had nearly run dry.
Her eyes shifted toward the city beyond, toward the wandering hands that had consumed her beloved citizens. Shops that once thrived with laughter and families now lay in ruin, puddles of blood and shattered debris lining the streets.
Other survivors crawled along the ground, trying to escape the onslaught as best they could. But despite their efforts, their bodies were quickly caught and consumed by the mud slimes that now ruled the city.
In a desperate attempt to save at least one more person, Viera raised her arm. A violent strain seized her body, and her legs gave out completely. As she fell to the ground, the spikes she had been so careful to avoid drove deeper into her organs.
She could not even scream, the strength to do so was long gone.
With a heavy breath, Viera lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. Keeping her eyelids open demanded too much effort, and slowly, she began to slip into a deep sleep, one from which she would never return to the mortal realm.
Veronica silently pleaded for Viera to pull herself together, but her own eyelids had grown just as heavy. Her mind filled with quiet regret, wishing she had taken different paths in life. In the end, she would die without having achieved anything.
The imperial queen cursed herself, claiming she was no better than the girl she once called a mudbiter, now that she was left helplessly and pathetically crawling on the ground, seeking refuge. Anger surged through her body, granting her a sudden burst of adrenaline.
Using that fleeting strength, she forced herself to stand, facing the still-seizing Albo. Her hand pressed against his forehead as her Birthmark glowed a faint blue hue.
If she was going to die, then she would at least try to save the one person she had respected throughout her academy life. In Veronica’s mind, he would be the only one capable of properly carrying on her legacy, spreading her ideology and words to the masses.
But the truth was far simpler than that. The reason why Veronica was so soft on the boy that was Albo Flore.
“At least with this, I can pretend I’m saving my little brother.”
A twisted way of thinking, especially when they were not related at all. But his appearance reminded her too much of what she once lost. A strange way of coping for one’s approaching death.
Having transferred as much magical energy as possible, her legs gave out as she fell into a kneel in front of the bed. Her body wobbled, ready to collapse at any moment.
But before she did, a blue flash of light flickered before her.
White lightning surged into the room, tearing apart the furniture and leaving large marks along the walls. Had she not been kneeling, the powerful bolt surely would have sliced her torso in half with its sheer speed.
Then, an earthquake followed.
It was far stronger than the one inflicted by the arrow, as the very foundation of the castle shook. Cracks formed along the edges, and pillars gave out their hold on several rooms.
A thunderous crack boomed, sending her, Viera, and Albo flying across the room. As her body was flung momentarily into the air, her eyes caught a glimpse of the person standing amidst the chaos, summoning the magical energy of the city into her body.
“Mudbiter?” she mumbled.
It was the same girl she had been bullying for years, now surrounded by magical circles.
As she hit the ground, a long rod of blue and white light blinded her, shooting upward from the earth and into the skies. Immediately, Veronica felt the sting of magical energy pricking through her skin, jumpstarting her overworked and overexhausted magical gears.
Similar to taking a blindfold off in the morning, the light only lasted a few seconds. But the world that awaited Veronica was completely different. No longer was the city basked in red light, but now it was bathed in the gleam of moonlight and night stars.
She rubbed her eyes, but what was before her was no illusion. A seamless transition had just occurred before her, like a mind trick. But the biggest evidence that all was right was the fact that she had no issue raising her arm to even rub her eyes in the first place.
The strength that had been so quickly drained from others returned, as the strain across her body quickly vanished.
Her mind raced with countless questions, but one name kept highlighting itself among them. One name she had neglected to say for so long, due to the lack of respect she possessed for the girl.
But now, the doubt that was seeded within her subsided, as she finally recognized her own worth. To Veronica, it wasn’t the fact that her life had been saved, but the fact that despite being disadvantaged, and being confronted with the impossible, she still stood tall and fought for herself.
She had finally put value in herself to try to save herself. Veronica knew that deep down, she acted for the sake of Albo. However, it was still a far cry from the person that Saya once was, which was someone who, when presented with countless obstacles, lived a life so devoid of effort, instead seeking out comfort.
Veronica wasn’t sure if her words were what encouraged Saya to take this first drastic step for change, but her methods mattered little to the imperial princess. Raising her head, she muttered the name of the girl who not only saved her life, but also made her proud.