Trotting across the prairie, Ǣg-berend watched the world being destroyed as a tectonic plate rose from the ground, creating a new continent between the two old ones, connecting them.
No structure in the world would remain standing after the Demon King's kneeling strike dug down to the planet's core.
Even Ǣg-berend was hurled into the air, injuring herself upon falling.
Through the air, debris and corpses turned day into night from the smoke and the uninterrupted impacts that lasted for hours.
Sheltered in a ruined building, lost without understanding what was around her, with trees and entire city blocks with buildings crashing down around her, Ǣg-berend searched for the familiar Auras.
Cwenburg was now Level 20! And the others were alive, even if damaged.
On the other side of the planet, lives ceased to exist in a terrifying chain reaction. Ǣg-berend then searched for something unexpected, Æthelflæd, and after finding the human, for some reason extremely relaxed, the Centaur sought out some similar soul.
If Yenno was the Alchemist's Master, it was natural that they resembled each other in some way, and the closest thing to that appeared as if it were nothing, until, focused, Æthelflæd saw beyond the aspect of the disguise, such power, such an Aura, it was an absurd being, but why did it ignore everything around it and just flee?
Ǣg-berend returned to healing and headed toward the disproportionate Aura, if it wasn't the Golden Dragon, it would be a monster without proportions.
At the same time, Æthelflæd explored the Black Castle with Blith, they saw a glorious mural carved into the wall.
The tiles pointed to something ancient, a woman with disproportionately large, grandiloquent breasts, with demonic creatures around her.
— Its colors are gray and pink. — Æthelflæd touched the mural, moving to the drawing of boats and animals being milked. — In green and purple, the little animals are the people's food. — and for several meters one could see what represented an ancestral multitude. That made Æthelflæd curious. It didn't seem like any legend known to her, and she questioned Blith. The beings' hands had seven fingers and three rings, in orange, red, and black, alternating between six centimeters and twelve centimeters. Some in blue had marks for several meters, resembling oak, fir, and birch trees. On the swords, the runes and emblems in gold represented the constellations of linden, ash, and eucalyptus. In silver, carved one by one, one could see cardinal points repeated exactly nineteen times, on the foreheads of glorious but unidentifiable animals. — What is this scene? What does it represent?
— When the castle was bought it was already here, the Demon King ordered it demolished, but Edas said it would be too much work. — replied Blith, still with his pipe in hand, enjoying the effects of the narcotics.
That was when the two noticed the malignant Aura approaching. It was number four, Æðalsegrith.
Æðalsegrith was an Alada, with pink skin and horns, with open wings and four arms holding two long iron staves.
Æðalsegrith crossed the atrium of the Demon King's Castle walking, her footsteps echoed in the impressive architecture.
She ignored the Immortal, who didn't recognize her, but she didn't mind, after all in recent days she had recognized few of those she encountered in those tall and exuberant hallways.
Æthelflæd would have spoken to Æðalsegrith, but the enemy's staff went toward her body and would have killed her, had Blith not held the iron piece from the Alada's opposite side.
— I want nothing from you, Immortal. I'm going to kill this loli, and then I'm leaving. She has the Demon King's Mark. — explained Æðalsegrith with a certain reluctance. She didn't want to be there, they had merely incumbent this upon her, a mere formality. — Let's save our efforts, the madness outside is enough already.
When Æðalsegrith pointed to one of the windows, a meteor cut through the air and exploded, blinding everyone for a few moments.
— If I let you go, what will you do? — Blith's mind was slow. It almost stopped before he remembered the beginning of the thought.
— I'll kill her and leave. You have my word.
— I'm afraid I can't let you do that. I don't know you, and this loli is also unknown to me, but it doesn't seem like she's done any wrong.
— How can you not remember me! We were just talking!
— I'm sorry. — in the face of Æthelflæd's scolding, Blith made a bow in apology.
— So be it, old man.
A strike from Æðalsegrith, and she hit.
Finding the miss strange, another strike with the staff in her right hands. And then the staff held by her left hands burst toward the Immortal, who dodged once more.
Blith stepped back a few paces, his body acting accustomed to combat, to conflict, without altering his breathing, moving Æthelflæd with a small shove, just before preparing his punch, and hitting Æðalsegrith's stomach, who flew through the window nearly plummeting into the garden.
Æðalsegrith used her wings to turn around, prepared to no longer underestimate the Immortal.
— What are you, Blith?
— Me? Who was I, anyway? — a memory overtook the Immortal, the city in ashes around him, he standing before the corpses, still in his youth, millennia before Æthelflæd was born. — A long time ago I was the Master of a little boy, as you call him? What was his name again? — the vision of the legendary little boy, with long horns and fear in his eyes, returned to Blith. — Demon King.
Blith's Aura exploded, and Æthelflæd fell to her knees involuntarily.
Such power made Æðalsegrith veer away, examining the unexpected enemy. Blith leaped through the window and flew toward the Alada, and she used her iron staves to defend against what sent her body backward, far away, another punch from the Immortal.
Æðalsegrith then threw one of the staves upward, far away into the clouds.
She teleported to the staff, that was her magic, and the other staff, left near Blith, who was flying toward her, served to connect her attack as she descended from the sky, aiming at the old Immortal, who was struck even while defending with both hands, going down in a straight line until hitting the ground and raising a cloud of dust that tightened Æthelflæd's heart as she watched from the high window of the Demon King's Castle.
— Blith! — begged Æthelflæd. — Get up, Blith! Don't die, please…