Chapter 649: A survivor

[Realm: Álfheimr]

[Location: Dominion of Oz]

[Winkie Country]

“Seems like things are going just about the way you wanted,” Elena spoke idly.

The Legatus stood upon a decrepit tin balcony overlooking the vast plains beyond the castle. The structure beneath her feet was in a sorry state, its metalwork now covered in rust and showing signs of considerable deterioration. Sections of the railing had begun to bend out of shape, while the floor beneath her boots creaked. Despite the poor condition of the balcony, it offered a fairly unobstructed view of the surrounding landscape.

Far below, the plains stretched into the distance, their grasslands extending towards the horizon. The castle stood behind them, its enormous tin walls and towers looking increasingly out of place against the open terrain. From this height, the disturbances taking place across the plains were difficult to make out in detail, but the occasional flashes of light and the distant movement of figures made it clear that the confrontation had not yet ended.

Elena stood with her arms folded beneath her chest, her posture relatively relaxed as she glanced towards the woman beside her.

Goiim remained silent.

The Mortifer did not respond to the remark, nor did she appear particularly interested in acknowledging it. Her expression remained the same unreadable mask she had worn for most of their time together. Her pale eyes were directed towards the distant plains, seemingly following something that Elena could not quite make out. There was no obvious excitement or concern in her demeanor, but the slight tension around her lips suggested that her attention was occupied by something more than the spectacle unfolding below.

(“That odd presence… It was there when she first confronted the Angel.”)

A small frown settled on Goiim’s lips.

She had noticed it before, though the sensation had been difficult to properly identify. There was something unusual about Electra, something that did not quite fit with what she knew about the Deseruit Beast Progenitors. It was not simply a matter of her strength or the nature of her abilities. Those were things that could be examined, categorized, and eventually understood. What concerned Goiim was the presence she had sensed surrounding the Progenitor, an irregularity that seemed to become more apparent whenever Electra was observed closely.

(“I was under the impression that the Doktor’s Project Malady involved only human candidates. At least, that was what our information suggested. A Deseruit Beast Progenitor was certainly never mentioned in any of our reports.”)

The discovery was troublesome.

If Electra was connected to the project, then the information they had been given was incomplete. That alone was hardly surprising when dealing with the Doktor.

She continued watching the plains, her expression barely changing.

“You look like you have to take a shit.”

Elena’s vulgar remark broke the silence.

She turned her head towards Goiim, giving the Mortifer a brief sideways glance. Her arms remained folded, and there was a small crease between her brows as she regarded the other woman.

“What’s got you so silent? You’ve been staring out there for a while now. Don’t tell me you’re actually worried about something.”

There was a certain irritation in her voice, though it seemed to come more from the lack of response than from any genuine concern. Elena was not particularly fond of standing around while Goiim silently contemplated things she had no intention of explaining. Whatever the Mortifer was thinking, she had apparently decided that sharing it was unnecessary.

“Things may prove more troublesome, or more fruitful.”

Goiim’s answer was vague.

She did not turn towards Elena when she spoke. Her pale eyes remained fixed on the distant landscape. There was no clear indication of whether she considered the situation a problem or an opportunity. In truth, the distinction seemed to depend entirely on what they were about to discover.

“Huh?”

Elena gave her a questioning look.

She unfolded one arm slightly, her brows drawing together as she tried to make sense of the response. It was not exactly an explanation, and Goiim did not appear interested in offering one. Elena glanced towards the plains again, searching for whatever had prompted the Mortifer’s remark.

“What’s that supposed to mean? You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.”

“Seems she was no ordinary Progenitor.”

Goiim finally offered a more direct explanation.

Elena looked towards her.

“Is it even possible to find an ‘ordinary’ Deseruit Beast Progenitor?” she questioned, her tone carrying a hint of disbelief. “I mean, they’re Progenitors. They’re already supposed to be the worst of the worst. What exactly would make one ordinary?”

As she spoke, her attention shifted back towards the plains.

A moment later, an immense bolt of lightning tore through the distant landscape.

The flash briefly illuminated the surrounding terrain, its white light cutting through the darkening sky before striking somewhere across the open grasslands. Even from their position on the balcony, the discharge was difficult to miss. A distant disturbance followed, and Elena watched the area where it had descended with a faintly interested expression.

The storm clouds continued to gather overhead, their thick formations carrying an unusual amber-gold hue. The sight was strange enough to draw her attention, considering the scale of the lightning that had just descended. Whatever was happening down there, the confrontation between Electra and the Angel was clearly becoming more involved.

“I suppose those who can be categorized as S-Class threats would fall into such a category. We can always measure them.”

Goiim answered idly.

Her pale eyes remained unreadable as she watched the distant activity.

“Electra, an Oceanid and Mother of Harpies. She would naturally be considered an S-class threat, as would any other Progenitor of comparable standing. Her position alone would make that much obvious.”

She paused briefly.

“But there was something off about her from the moment I first laid eyes on her.”

The words were delivered without any emphasis, but there was a noticeable change in the way Goiim regarded the plains. Her attention had become more focused, her gaze following the distant figure of Electra with a degree of scrutiny that had not been present earlier.

It was not the Progenitor’s classification that concerned her. An S-Class designation could account for her strength, her destructive capabilities, and the danger she represented. Those were measurable qualities, and Goiim had little difficulty accepting them.

It was the other presence.

Something that did not fit neatly into the information available to her. The sensation had been there from the beginning, lingering beneath the more obvious aspects of the Progenitor’s existence. Now, with the confrontation unfolding before them, Goiim was beginning to suspect that the irregularity was considerably more significant than she had initially thought.

“She seemed out of it, like some dumbass.”

Elena answered with a faint look of annoyance.

She had little difficulty remembering her previous encounter with Electra, and it was not an especially pleasant memory. The Progenitor had nearly killed her, and whatever impression she had left behind was hardly one Elena was inclined to view favorably. From her perspective, Electra had seemed strangely vacant, behaving in a way that made it difficult to tell what she was thinking or whether she was even paying attention to what was happening around her.

The description was blunt, but Elena did not seem particularly concerned with finding a more charitable way to put it.

“She didn’t exactly strike me as some complicated beast. If anything, she seemed like a dumbass who could barely keep track of what was going on around her. Though I suppose nearly getting killed by her doesn’t exactly make me the best judge of her character.”

Goiim did not react to the remark.

“Indeed, but that was not what I was referring to.”

She spoke calmly, her gaze never leaving the plains.

“Her behavior is certainly unusual, but it is not the part that interests me. There is something else beneath it, something you have not yet noticed. Pay attention to her, Elena. Don’t concern yourself too much with what she says or how she behaves. Watch what happens when that presence begins to reveal itself.”

Goiim’s expression remained as unreadable as ever.

“Watch, and you’ll see. It’s beginning to show itself.”

——————-

[Realm: Álfheimr]

[Location: Dominion of Oz]

[Winkie Country]

The shift in Electra’s personality seemed to do little to change the immediate situation. Whatever distinction existed between the two aspects of her personality and whatever strange arrangement allowed one to surface while the other receded, the body standing before Mikoto remained the same. The same scaled skin, the same piercing light-blue eyes, and the same considerable power.

And, judging by the way she now regarded him, the change in personality had done nothing to lessen her willingness to fight.

Electra moved first.

Her hand came up, fingers spreading as the scales along her forearm shifted against one another. The air around her simply shifted, and the ground beneath Mikoto’s feet gave a small tremor.

He noticed the change a fraction before the attack came.

Electra lunged.

Her first swipe came from his right, her fingers extended into a set of curved claws that cut through the air with enough force to leave visible distortions in the mist that seemed to be gathering around them. Mikoto brought his left gauntlet across his body, meeting the strike before it could reach his neck. The impact rang through the metal, forcing his arm several inches inward and sending a sharp vibration through his shoulder.

He gave ground by half a step.

Electra was already following.

Her other hand came around in a wide horizontal sweep, aimed at his ribs. Mikoto lowered his center of gravity and turned his body, allowing the claws to pass just beyond the front of his breastplate. The tips caught the edge of his tailcoat beneath the armor, tearing through the fabric as they passed. Before Electra could draw her arm back, Mikoto brought his right gauntlet down towards her wrist.

She withdrew just in time.

His strike missed her arm and struck the ground instead. The impact fractured the earth beneath them, sending several pieces of broken soil skittering across the plain. Electra used the brief opening to step inside his reach, her shoulder dipping as she drove an elbow towards his chest.

Mikoto twisted.

The blow glanced off the side of his armor, but the force behind it still pushed him sideways. His heavy sabaton dragged through the earth as he caught his balance, leaving a deep furrow behind him. Electra did not allow him the opportunity to settle. She turned with the momentum of her previous strike and brought her claws down towards his head.

He raised both arms.

The claws struck his gauntlets with a harsh metallic scrape. Mikoto’s elbows bent beneath the pressure, the force travelling down through his arms and into his shoulders. He held the block, but the ground beneath him began to sink, the earth compacting under the weight of the impact.

His red eyes remained fixed on hers.

Electra pressed harder.

Mikoto shifted his right foot, angled his body, and forced one of her arms away from his head. The movement was small, but it was enough to break the alignment of her attack. He immediately turned his left shoulder into her, attempting to drive her back and create some distance between them.

She barely moved.

Instead, Electra caught his shoulder with her free hand and dragged him towards her.

Her claws scraped across the dark plating of his pauldron. Mikoto felt the pressure through the armor and brought his knee up, forcing her to release him before she could secure her grip. He stepped back, but Electra followed, her next attack arriving before he had fully recovered his stance.

A downward swipe followed as Mikoto leaned away. A second swipe immediately came, this time from below.

He brought his forearm down and deflected it, the claws glancing off the outside of his gauntlet. The contact produced another sharp scrape, followed by a small burst of sparks where the metal was struck. Electra immediately turned her wrist and reversed the direction of her hand, attempting to catch him with the backs of her claws as he moved away.

Mikoto pulled his arm back.

The tips passed close enough to brush the front of his armor.

He retaliated with a short punch towards her face. Electra tilted her head, allowing the gauntlet to pass beside her cheek, and answered with a palm strike to his chest. The blow landed squarely against his breastplate.

The impact drove him backwards.

His sabatons cut through the earth, and the force carried him several meters before he managed to stop himself. He lowered his arms, briefly examining the shallow indentation left in the metal across his chest.

(“Guess I should’ve invested time in bothering to fight hand to hand,”) Mikoto thought idly as he watched Electra.

She was already moving again.

Her body dropped low as she accelerated towards him, one hand extended towards the ground. The earth beneath her fingers buckled, and several heavy slabs of soil and stone tore free. They rose alongside her as she advanced, suspended for only a moment before being hurled towards Mikoto.

He clicked his tongue.

The first slab struck his raised gauntlet and shattered. He turned his shoulder against the second, allowing it to break against his armor rather than his head. A third came from above, forcing him to step aside. It struck the ground where he had been standing, bursting apart and throwing a dense spray of dirt across the surrounding area.

Electra emerged through the debris.

Her claws came for his face.

Mikoto ducked beneath them, but she had anticipated the movement. Her opposite hand swept across his lowered position, forcing him to bring his forearm up to protect his head. The strike caught his gauntlet and knocked it aside. Before he could recover, Electra drove her knee towards his abdomen.

He turned his hips.

Her knee struck the reinforced plating along his side instead, but the impact still carried enough force to shift his entire body. Mikoto’s feet left the ground for an instant. He landed with one sabaton sliding backwards, and Electra immediately reached for him again.

This time, however, he moved first.

Mikoto stepped into her next attack and her claws passed over his shoulder as he closed the remaining distance, bringing his arm around to catch her upper body. Electra twisted, preventing him from securing a proper hold, but that brief adjustment was all he needed.

His leg came up.

The kick struck her stomach.

There was a heavy, abrupt sound as his sabaton connected with her abdomen, and the force behind it sent Electra flying backwards. Her body lifted from the ground and travelled several meters through the air before she struck the earth. The impact tore a shallow trench through the plain, sending loose soil and broken stones scattering around her.

She rolled once before coming to a stop.

A small amount of blood escaped her mouth.

For a moment, she remained where she was, one hand resting against the ground. Her head was slightly lowered, and a thin trail of blood ran from the corner of her lips.

Yet her expression did not change; she simply looked towards Mikoto with the same passive expression she had worn throughout their exchange.

Mikoto lowered his leg and allowed his sabaton to settle against the ground.

He was about to move towards her when something else caught his attention.

Mist.

It had begun to gather around the area.

At first, it was little more than a thin haze drifting close to the ground, barely noticeable with the dust and debris stirred up by their movements. But it was spreading too quickly. Within moments, the pale vapor had thickened, rising around the earth and swallowing the distance between them. It moved without any obvious source, spreading across the plains in dense layers until the surrounding landscape began to disappear.

Mikoto’s eyes narrowed.

He looked briefly towards Electra, then across the surrounding field. The mist continued to gather, obscuring the ground, the distant hills, and even the outline of the castle behind them.

“…Tch.”

He clicked his tongue.

“What a lousy play.”

The mist was unlikely to be an ordinary attempt at concealment.

He could not afford to assume otherwise.

Mikoto relaxed his shoulders slightly, allowing his arms to settle into a more natural position. His gaze remained forward, but he stopped trying to follow the vague movements within the fog.

Instead, he listened.

The area had become strangely quiet.

The distant wind was still present, although its sound seemed muted. But he concentrated on the sounds closest to him, separating each small disturbance from the surrounding noise.

Then he heard footsteps.

To his left.

They were light, almost inaudible, but distinct enough to catch his attention. Mikoto’s head turned towards the sound.

Or, at least, he attempted to turn towards it.

His body moved against his intention; his eyes blinked.

And pain immediately tore through his right arm.

Electra shot past him.

Her claws had already crossed the distance between them by the time he registered her position. They dragged across his right gauntlet, tearing through the metal with a grinding shriek. The tips continued beyond the damaged plating, catching his exposed arm and leaving several deep scratches across the skin beneath.

Mikoto’s body shifted with the force of the passing strike.

He pulled his arm back, his fingers tightening inside the damaged gauntlet. A thin line of blood ran down his forearm, slipping beneath the edge of the armor.

He clicked his tongue again.

There was no immediate attempt to inspect the injury. He simply turned towards where Electra should have been, his red eyes narrowing as he tried to follow her movement through the mist.

But his gaze went the opposite way.

He stopped.

For a brief moment, Mikoto remained still, his head turned towards empty space. The mist shifted around him, concealing everything beyond a few meters, but he could still hear the movement of something nearby.

His eyes moved.

His head followed.

Again, the direction was wrong.

He slowly brought his chin back to its original position.

“You’re reversing my perception?”

There was no answer immediately.

Mikoto looked down at his damaged right gauntlet. Several sections of the outer plating had been carved open, exposing the underlying mechanisms and leaving the alloy uneven along the edges. His arm stung where Electra’s claws had passed through, but the injury was not severe enough to impede his movement.

That was not what concerned him.

The more troubling detail was how easily she had managed to approach him.

He had heard her footsteps. He had reacted to them. Yet his body had turned in the opposite direction, as though the sound had come from somewhere entirely different. Even after the attack, his attempt to locate her had been redirected.

Mikoto’s expression remained dull, though his eyes sharpened with irritation.

“That’s an even lousier trick.”