Adeia's fingers drummed the long table fashioned from dark stone, her eyes distant and her mind burdened by a mass of concerns. There were pressing matters like the assault they scrambled to combat with hastily prepared defenses.
Some shelter was better than none, she reckoned.
The other commanders of the war efforts had left to carry out their duties, leaving Adeia by her lonesome to stew in her thoughts. Aside from the looming threat, the words spoken by Rhaenys impressed her mind more than she thought possible.
Rhaenys had once been her beacon of hope, a crimson star bleeding sanguine light. Bloody as the image was, the carmine radiance seemed beautiful to Adeia, instilling the impression of power deep within her childish mind.
Perhaps it was a twist of fate or maybe a call of duty, but the day her village fell to a monster tide of massive proportions was the day Adeia met her master.
The entire thing had been culled, but only after the whole village had been ravaged under the monstrous paws, hooves, and claws of beasts of many kinds. Adeia never learned how the tide had accumulated, but that didn't matter with the havoc wrought across the lands.
Somehow, Adeia didn't feel too lost, for as hurt as she was by the loss, she gained an object of affection in equal measure. Until that object of affection betrayed the rules instilled in young Adeia from henceforth.
'I'm not that little girl I once was. I know the world isn't straightforward, and I'm not overly naive… but some lines are not to be crossed. Rules and orders are what separates us from feral beasts.'
The Followers of War were to abide by a strict set of rules, raising their blade to quell sedition, quiet mutiny, and maintain a semblance of peace, leaving just enough actionable discord to not bubble into adjacent lands.
The Followers of War were beholden to Oaths that bound these clauses to their center of being, and breaking them would fracture a part of their power. But, Adeia had never realized how vague the terms of their Oaths were.
With enough finesse, choice could be maintained while abiding by the limitations set. The Followers of War, tempered to police and protect the realm through martial power, were not to become a misused weapon. Still, Adeia had witnessed Rhaenys conduct atrocities using the name of their Deity.
It made zero sense to her.
The first of many was the eradication of an entire town. There were rumors of it being a garrison state, a vassal entity to covertly train soldiers, raising them in the Ways of Ascension, but too much power in any one area could lead to corruption and imbalances.
She had been approached by a King of the Lands and requested to annihilate a hostile party, the aforementioned state. After weighing the situation, she obliged, unleashing the Red Death upon the town. From then, Adeia began to distance herself and detach from her Rhaenys' presence.
'I can't in good faith praise someone who would sully the Oath to our God. That is ludicrous.'
These thoughts continued troubling her, but that's when Rhaenys approached from the lurking darkness of the citadel's walkways, her expression grim and covered in blood.
"Daughter of War, the battle begins. The Creatures of the Dark are upon us. Let your blade drink its fill."
Adeia stared pointedly with a gesture of acknowledgment. She approached calmly, hand readied, keen to draw her blade at any moment.
"I will follow you in the war, Maven of the Red Death."
Her gaze was sober, all signs of her earlier emotions vanishing as she entered a state primed for battle. Deidamia at her waist pulsated like a beating heart, her craving spoken to the world in dreadful whispers.
Then, two women betrothed to violence, unsheathed their weapons and moved. Their swiftness was incredible, mind-blowing even, especially the Maven of the Red Death.
Where she stepped, crimson gales followed, circling her scimitars like a contained squall.
A scene of blood and chaos welcomed them.
Aerys held the rear with his blood magic. Blood arrows shot from within a bevy of carmine spellforms scattered across the sky, which became the Son of Blood's canvas. A nonstop fusillade fueled by his robust Mana Pool ripped into the endless tide of baneful Bloodwights.
Adeia absorbed the scene quickly, watching the soldiers holding the line at the palisade fences.
'So many of them… far more than when we cleared out and commandeered the citadel. There must be a rift in the heart of that citadel, but none of us dare approach.'
The Ruined Bastion, as the Flame called it, was surrounded by a bizarre film. Stepping past the imperceptible membrane made quick work of the Mana within a Disciplined's body before aiming to dismantle Significance. It was a virulent barrier that no one — not even Rhaenys and Draegerys — felt safe against.
Adeia looked for weakness in the force's mustered defense, finding several palisades on the verge of being breached. With a forceful step, she soared through the air, drawing upon the Aspects of a Master to bolster her might.
Her presence was immediately felt as some foot soldiers parted to make way for her imminent arrival.
Deidamia swept out, a sonorous wail ringing through the air as the odachi traveled unimpeded. Her blade had cut only air, but the cries converged, forming a monstrous replica of her sword. It tore through everything horizontally with a chilling, death-like flame.
Had Kieran been presence to witness the ongoing chaos, he would realize that strike to be Adeia's Nether Wail.
"Fall in. Cover the weakness in that area."
Following her command, Adeia's svelte figure leapt over the palisade fence, coasting through the air. Her odachi danced in the air, never touching a Bloodwight physically but conjuring blades of biting wind to carve her grotesque opponents.
Then, once she landed, Adeia pressed two fingers to her lips and wiped them down her weapon. The ebony blade radiated a pale flame, offering a chilling sensation scarily close to the iciness of resentments.
She moved with a vengeance while madness erupted all around her.
Rhaenys was unleashing a crimson cyclone, Aerys was conjuring projectiles of blood and rapidly depleting his Mana, and then there was Draegerys… mutilating the Bloodwights with a swing of his great axes.
His way of fighting was spartan and draconian, emphasizing the economy of purposeful movement. He acted less but accomplished much more.
The momentum was high, but it wouldn't always remain that way. Everyone possessed finite resources to rely upon and the Bloodwights… they pooled out of Ruined Bastion endlessly.
And the true terrors had yet to approach from within that edifice of calamity.
Animalistic eyes shone with beastly intent from within the darkness of the Ruined Bastion. A throng of identical gazes appeared in a swift procession. Hounds emanating an insatiable hunger with frightening physiques stepped through the baneful threshold.
Their appearance was felt immediately, drawing the notice of all.
A stentorian howl boomed from Draegerys' chest, his axe ripping through a strong Bloodwight, "Damned Banehounds!"
Adeia didn't have as much knowledge as Draegerys, but she understood how to read a situation. The alarm in that exclamation was concerning.
At that moment, Adeia felt a strange presence approach, slightly more potent than her own; the ferocity of it gave her pause. It was wild and fiendish, but most of all, analogous to what they faced.
