Konahora had failed. She stood and she knew this to be true. She had realized the moment the word Vampire was said, that they were all going to die here. And that it was her fault. Not completely, sadly the truth would not let her wallow in self-blame completely, but she had majorly contributed. Where had she gone wrong?
The answer was obvious.
She had gotten arrogant.
Arrogance. It could sneak up on you. It could invade your life, it could poison you as much as any toxin, and the worst part, is that it could be sneaky. It could mask itself as confidence, as preparation, as knowing your limits and abilities. What was it Derek had said?
“If this is a B-Rank creature or person, how are you guys going to survive?”
“It’s unlikely to be a B-Rank but… if it is, while we may not be able to defeat it, I am confident we will be able to survive and escape.”
“Foolish.”
She had turned, in surprise at his candid attitude, at how he sounded depressed. She had known that he was trying to stay on everyone’s good side, fear for his life making him act meek. He had not spoken out like that since they had known him.
“You assume you can survive something stronger than your whole team, multiple times over. If it’s a person, they have hidden cards just like you do. You are all going to die.”
He had been right. A weak B-grade was something they could’ve taken, with extreme difficulty. A weak B-grade person, it would be a fight to the death, but they would most likely have been able to survive and escape.
No.
Maybe. Maybe been able to survive and escape. And that wasn’t including Derek. Wasn’t accounting for him at all, outside his speed she had seen. His status as a demon had blinded her. He wasn’t a warrior, wasn’t trained, he was a civilian. Essentially a normal person that had been born at C-Grade strength.
But her arrogance ran so much deeper than mere ignorance. Derek had a power to feel strength. He could accurately tell the difference between people and creatures. Why did she not believe him? Confidence. She had thought herself confident in her team. But that is where the issue lay. For her “confidence” to be true, Derek would have to be wrong. And that fact, that thought, had never truly crossed her mind. At some point, she had begun to believe her companions could take on anything.
Tyler, a True Hero who learned at speeds and grew in power only heard of in myth and legend. She had personally seen him rise to such great strength, accomplishing what would have taken most decades, in only a year. Even now, he had somehow managed to create an Aura Slash. A High Level technique usually only accomplished in B-Grade and he had done it in the middle of a fight to the death.
Riary, a genius among geniuses. A True Prodigy. Konahora had lived a long time and seen many mages. Magic was on a spectrum between science and art, completely encompassing both. Riary was the equivalent of a painter, specializing in pieces meant to strike you with their intensity. It required constant study, practice, skill, and a flexible mind. And even then, most would get stuck, hit a barrier. Just as improvement in Art was hard, so was improvement in Magic. Yet Riary met no walls along her path and improved day by day, her flames even reaching a new level of power moments after her rape.
And even Konahora herself. Konahora was fifty-two this year. She had been ten at the start of the Great Demon War. She had survived that. She had survived while others had died. She had made it this far, gotten this strong. Survived assassinations, survived for over five decades. She had fought plenty of monsters, raised children as the head of a small church, had improved her power slowly and steadily. She had the healing strength of a B-rank, despite being C-rank, due to her close and ingrained connection to her Faith.
All of it, all of it has made her arrogant. The folly of old age. Believing that since things have been a way for a long time, that they will not change. That since she had survived for so long, that she can not die. And now, as she watched Derek be killed in front of her, she knew she had truly failed.
Derek… he was lost. Just a man, in the wrong place, at the wrong time. She had seen too many men like that. But never, as far as she could remember, had she been the cause of it. If she had believed Derek, if she had been less arrogant, if she had sought someone with a higher tier of power for this mission, all of this could have been avoided. She was not the sole one to blame, but she could have made a difference. Was meant to.
She was suppose to be their guide. They trusted her. They believed in her, had faith in her. She had led them astray. She had failed them, when they needed her most. She had gotten an innocent man nearly killed.
She would not fail them again.
She ran forward, towards Derek. Derek and Riary had a plan. She would believe in them as they had believed in her.
“Oh? You want to try and heal him? Do you even have the strength for that Priestess of Truth?”
No. She didn’t. Even at her full power, she could not regenerate a heart. It didn’t matter.
“We shall see.”
“Hoho, well let’s not make it easy.”
Vanessa Vilconoff stood over Derek’s body, ready to intercept her, a smile on her face. Konahora ran, sprinting across the entranceway, weaponless. Her Ironheart staff was broken behind her, her companions were busy, unconscious, or dying. Their future rested on her shoulders.
She picked up a shard of Tyler’s shield as she ran.
When she was only a few feet away, Vilconoff began to launch jabs at her. Rapidly. Konohara tried to dodge around them, but they were already faster than she could react. The first hit broke her shoulder, the next her third and fourth ribs on her right side. Her sternum cracked and her left arm fractured after a bad deflection. She had an understanding of the body that passed most and she was getting an excellent lesson on her own at the moment. Unlike Derek, however, she was not unique enough to be without pain.
It hurt, it hurt badly. But not as much as her failure did. Not as much as it would if she failed again.
She couldn’t get close. If Vilconoff truly wanted to stop her, then she would be stopped. But that wasn’t what she wanted. Vampires were terribly powerful and experienced.
But also sadistic.
“I think this is quite enough.”
VIlconoff reached out after a partial deflection with her right arm, grabbing her wrist. Konahora felt that strange power go through her, her body beginning to stiffen.
But her companion's attacks had not been in vain.
Konahora had watched and learned. Derek had told her the specifics, Tyler had told her the weakness. A controlling power, but only when touching. Complete control, but it took a moment to take effect. But she had seen more. It took longer the denser the object was and… it didn’t go through clothing.
Vanessa had attacked them all, but she had never controlled them when she hit them. Every time she had, she had always touched their skin directly. That gave her power limits. It made her predictable.
It made her beatable.
Konahora still had a piece of Tyler’s shield in her left hand. She had barely used it, carefully keeping hold of it despite the attacks. Now, she raised it and didn’t hesitate for a second.
She would not fail again.
Vanessa opened her mouth in shock as the wrist she had been holding was suddenly severed, blood spurting onto her face. Konahora was busy, suppressing her pain and reaching out with her remaining hand to Derek’s prone body.
“You. Will. LIVE!”
Konahora touched him, healing power surged through her… and it wasn’t enough. His injuries were too much, his heart destroyed, his brain rapidly losing oxygen. He would die. Vilconoff had recovered from her surprise and was reaching towards her head.
No. Konahora was a Priestess of Truth. And the Truth was flawed. She had never lied, not once in her entire life.
Today would not be that day.
“YOU. WILL. LIVE!”
The Truth changed.
*****
Ba-thump.
Ba-thump.
Ba-thump.
Ba-thump.
With a great gasp of breath, I opened my eyes.
Konahora had failed. She stood and she knew this to be true. She had realized the moment the word Vampire was said, that they were all going to die here. And that it was her fault. Not completely, sadly the truth would not let her wallow in self-blame completely, but she had majorly contributed. Where had she gone wrong?
The answer was obvious.
She had gotten arrogant.
Arrogance. It could sneak up on you. It could invade your life, it could poison you as much as any toxin, and the worst part, is that it could be sneaky. It could mask itself as confidence, as preparation, as knowing your limits and abilities. What was it Derek had said?
“If this is a B-Rank creature or person, how are you guys going to survive?”
“It’s unlikely to be a B-Rank but… if it is, while we may not be able to defeat it, I am confident we will be able to survive and escape.”
“Foolish.”
She had turned, in surprise at his candid attitude, at how he sounded depressed. She had known that he was trying to stay on everyone’s good side, fear for his life making him act meek. He had not spoken out like that since they had known him.
“You assume you can survive something stronger than your whole team, multiple times over. If it’s a person, they have hidden cards just like you do. You are all going to die.”
He had been right. A weak B-grade was something they could’ve taken, with extreme difficulty. A weak B-grade person, it would be a fight to the death, but they would most likely have been able to survive and escape.
No.
Maybe. Maybe been able to survive and escape. And that wasn’t including Derek. Wasn’t accounting for him at all, outside his speed she had seen. His status as a demon had blinded her. He wasn’t a warrior, wasn’t trained, he was a civilian. Essentially a normal person that had been born at C-Grade strength.
But her arrogance ran so much deeper than mere ignorance. Derek had a power to feel strength. He could accurately tell the difference between people and creatures. Why did she not believe him? Confidence. She had thought herself confident in her team. But that is where the issue lay. For her “confidence” to be true, Derek would have to be wrong. And that fact, that thought, had never truly crossed her mind. At some point, she had begun to believe her companions could take on anything.
Tyler, a True Hero who learned at speeds and grew in power only heard of in myth and legend. She had personally seen him rise to such great strength, accomplishing what would have taken most decades, in only a year. Even now, he had somehow managed to create an Aura Slash. A High Level technique usually only accomplished in B-Grade and he had done it in the middle of a fight to the death.
Riary, a genius among geniuses. A True Prodigy. Konahora had lived a long time and seen many mages. Magic was on a spectrum between science and art, completely encompassing both. Riary was the equivalent of a painter, specializing in pieces meant to strike you with their intensity. It required constant study, practice, skill, and a flexible mind. And even then, most would get stuck, hit a barrier. Just as improvement in Art was hard, so was improvement in Magic. Yet Riary met no walls along her path and improved day by day, her flames even reaching a new level of power moments after her rape.
And even Konahora herself. Konahora was fifty-two this year. She had been ten at the start of the Great Demon War. She had survived that. She had survived while others had died. She had made it this far, gotten this strong. Survived assassinations, survived for over five decades. She had fought plenty of monsters, raised children as the head of a small church, had improved her power slowly and steadily. She had the healing strength of a B-rank, despite being C-rank, due to her close and ingrained connection to her Faith.
All of it, all of it has made her arrogant. The folly of old age. Believing that since things have been a way for a long time, that they will not change. That since she had survived for so long, that she can not die. And now, as she watched Derek be killed in front of her, she knew she had truly failed.
Derek… he was lost. Just a man, in the wrong place, at the wrong time. She had seen too many men like that. But never, as far as she could remember, had she been the cause of it. If she had believed Derek, if she had been less arrogant, if she had sought someone with a higher tier of power for this mission, all of this could have been avoided. She was not the sole one to blame, but she could have made a difference. Was meant to.
She was suppose to be their guide. They trusted her. They believed in her, had faith in her. She had led them astray. She had failed them, when they needed her most. She had gotten an innocent man nearly killed.
She would not fail them again.
She ran forward, towards Derek. Derek and Riary had a plan. She would believe in them as they had believed in her.
“Oh? You want to try and heal him? Do you even have the strength for that Priestess of Truth?”
No. She didn’t. Even at her full power, she could not regenerate a heart. It didn’t matter.
“We shall see.”
“Hoho, well let’s not make it easy.”
Vanessa Vilconoff stood over Derek’s body, ready to intercept her, a smile on her face. Konahora ran, sprinting across the entranceway, weaponless. Her Ironheart staff was broken behind her, her companions were busy, unconscious, or dying. Their future rested on her shoulders.
She picked up a shard of Tyler’s shield as she ran.
When she was only a few feet away, Vilconoff began to launch jabs at her. Rapidly. Konohara tried to dodge around them, but they were already faster than she could react. The first hit broke her shoulder, the next her third and fourth ribs on her right side. Her sternum cracked and her left arm fractured after a bad deflection. She had an understanding of the body that passed most and she was getting an excellent lesson on her own at the moment. Unlike Derek, however, she was not unique enough to be without pain.
It hurt, it hurt badly. But not as much as her failure did. Not as much as it would if she failed again.
She couldn’t get close. If Vilconoff truly wanted to stop her, then she would be stopped. But that wasn’t what she wanted. Vampires were terribly powerful and experienced.
But also sadistic.
“I think this is quite enough.”
VIlconoff reached out after a partial deflection with her right arm, grabbing her wrist. Konahora felt that strange power go through her, her body beginning to stiffen.
But her companion's attacks had not been in vain.
Konahora had watched and learned. Derek had told her the specifics, Tyler had told her the weakness. A controlling power, but only when touching. Complete control, but it took a moment to take effect. But she had seen more. It took longer the denser the object was and… it didn’t go through clothing.
Vanessa had attacked them all, but she had never controlled them when she hit them. Every time she had, she had always touched their skin directly. That gave her power limits. It made her predictable.
It made her beatable.
Konahora still had a piece of Tyler’s shield in her left hand. She had barely used it, carefully keeping hold of it despite the attacks. Now, she raised it and didn’t hesitate for a second.
She would not fail again.
Vanessa opened her mouth in shock as the wrist she had been holding was suddenly severed, blood spurting onto her face. Konahora was busy, suppressing her pain and reaching out with her remaining hand to Derek’s prone body.
“You. Will. LIVE!”
Konahora touched him, healing power surged through her… and it wasn’t enough. His injuries were too much, his heart destroyed, his brain rapidly losing oxygen. He would die. Vilconoff had recovered from her surprise and was reaching towards her head.
No. Konahora was a Priestess of Truth. And the Truth was flawed. She had never lied, not once in her entire life.
Today would not be that day.
“YOU. WILL. LIVE!”
The Truth changed.
*****
Ba-thump.
Ba-thump.
Ba-thump.
Ba-thump.
With a great gasp of breath, I opened my eyes.
