As the light from the first expedition's spirit faded away, Fitran and Rinoa began to think that their journey to Gamma would proceed without obstacles, free from the forces that had pulled them into danger. However, as they stepped into the next spiral of light, an unseen force suddenly yanked them back, as if signaling that their adventure was far from over.
The light dimmed.
The Thaer'Zhulith dimension collapsed.
And they found themselves once again standing at the Great Gate Stones.
But something had changed drastically.
The sky was dark, and the stars that had once gently shone now lay obscured by thick black clouds, creating a chilling atmosphere that felt like icy fingers creeping down their spines. A cold wind swept across their faces, as if it carried whispers from a forgotten world—both soothing and terrifying, echoing the uncertainty of their circumstances.
The golems, once guardians of peace, had shifted roles, forming a battle formation. The crystals embedded in their chests glowed red—the color of ancient magic—indicating that Absolute Protection had been activated. The rumbling of their heavy footsteps filled the air, clearly signaling that a threat was imminent. Rinoa felt her heartbeat quicken; each pulse echoed with fear, while Fitran wore a sardonic smile, seemingly relishing the tension that wove between them like a thread binding their fates together.
They were no longer mere guardians.
They had become the law's executors of Stones.
At the pinnacle of the formation stood Arch-Golem Varnax, unyielding, his crystal eyes glowing like smoldering embers, illuminating the ominous aura surrounding him. "Entities that violate the rules will bear the consequences," he intoned in a deep, resonant voice, each word striking like a hammer against the cage of souls, heralding the unavoidable punishment to come—a chilling reminder of the stakes at hand.
"Anomaly Gamma has been detected in the entities Fitran Fate and Rinoa Alfrenzo."
"The balancing execution will commence."
With striking calmness, Fitran responded, "They have no idea who they are up against. We are not just survivors—we are victors." In an instant, his energy swirled like a dark storm, enveloping him in a shimmering purple aura that blended with the red light emanating from the golems, creating a sight both magnificent and chilling—a prelude to the brewing conflict.
Shortly after, the crystalline moans from the golem's chest echoed, resonating in the silence of the space as if preparing to strike. Fitran stepped forward with an arrogant demeanor, his hands moving swiftly in a confident motion, unleashing narrow-style magic that split the air with great force. "With fire and ice, I will show them what true power is!"
He threw a fireball and ice simultaneously, creating a terrifying explosion that shattered the silence of the field, making the ground tremble and unleashing a cloud of dust. In an instant, he summoned a dark shadow that surged forward like lightning, piercing the air as if challenging the very laws of physics. The shadow collided with the first golem with devastating force, tearing its body apart ruthlessly and shattering the glowing crystals into glittering shards, emphasizing the ferocity of his attack. Meanwhile, Rinoa darted around the formation, wielding a highly functional knife infused with magic, her movements a blur of practiced precision. Each strike felt like a stroke of deadly art, shattering crystals with elegance and obliterating her enemies' existence in a dance of destruction.
Amidst the chaos, the atmosphere vibrated with the thundering cries of metallic creatures filling the air, creating a symphony of terror and bravery. "Mahi, have mercy," Rinoa thought, though in her heart, she could envision how close they were to victory—an achievement bought with the sweat and blood of fighters who battled relentlessly.
In an instant, Varnax conjured a shimmering shield of light, warming the surroundings with an aura of resurgence. Rinoa was forced to retreat momentarily, feeling the weight of an energy attack that could shake one's soul. In a fleeting glance, she caught Fitran's gaze, his sharp eyes exuding confidence as if signaling her to attack even harder—a spark of motivation igniting within her chest.
Fitran watched Rinoa intently as he exploited a shallow gap to shatter the golem's protection. "This is not a worthy opponent, Rinoa," he said with a cold, contemptuous tone, "but merely an obstacle on our path to power." With his words, a wave of energy surged around them, sending chills down Rinoa's spine, as if that energy were aimed directly at her very soul. She realized that Fitran had a far greater purpose now than merely surviving; a fiery ambition fueled their fighting spirit.
He continued his assault, the tension palpable as he released his sword with a sudden movement. With one powerful thrust, he split the enemy ranks in two, creating a massive gap in their midst. Varnax looked furious, his face ablaze with anger as he dramatically raised his hands to the sky, channeling a surge of energy. "You will regret your actions!" he shouted, while the light shining on his body formed a glimmering red aura that coalesced, ready to obliterate anything in its path—a testament to the power he wielded and the threat his presence posed.
At the same time, Rinoa seized the moment, launching her planned attack with agility. With incredible speed, she thrust her gleaming dagger towards Varnax's heart. The attack was blocked by an invisible energy field, but Rinoa remained undaunted. "You will fall to this courage!" she cried passionately, before summoning a burst of snow that surrounded her, creating a shimmering tornado of sparkling ice stars swirling in the air.
After that precious moment, Varnax staggered, his balance faltering, and the golems around him collapsed in gasps. However, it was not before they unleashed a fierce counterattack. Fitran's dark aura intensified, signaling a retaliation unlike anything they had witnessed before; as if the spell took the form of fire and ice in a stunning harmony. "Alright, let me show you what fire and ice truly mean." With those words, the energy within him exploded with destructive power, filled with a raging aura, ready to counter every incoming attack.
The sound of a thunderous boom shook the path as an energy sword surged forward, creating vibrations that rattled the very soul. Rinoa found herself trapped in terrifying chaos, sensing that the world around them might shatter if they could not control the power flowing through their hands. Yet, amid this uncertainty, a glimmer of hope shone bright—she realized that with each step they took, they were getting closer to the truth they had long sought.
Tens of small Golems moved quickly out of formation, gliding with astonishing speed, faster than any metal creature they had ever faced, leaving an imprint of emptiness on the ground behind them. "Get ready, Rinoa," Fitran said in a cold, sharp tone, "this is just the beginning." Fitran clenched his hand, power building within it.
"They no longer recognize us as the survivors of Stones. In their eyes, we are merely the dangerous Gamma anomaly threatening the order."
As the small Golems rushed out of formation, dust and debris swirled in the air from their heavy footfalls, creating an increasingly ominous atmosphere. Blades, rune cannons, and short-range teleportation became their main weapons. The formation of Golems closed around Fitran and Rinoa like an unrelenting tide, pinning them in place. In an instant, the arrogance of the Golems was evident, calling forth emptiness through a vibrating sound that shattered the night's silence.
Rinoa shouted:
"Fitran! We need to get out of the Stones circle.
They will continue to see us as a threatening disease."
Fitran drew Excalibur firmly, the blade gleaming with anticipation as the very air around him crackled with energy.
"I will carve a path to the Wind Shrine. Don't let Varnax stop you!" Fitran exclaimed, his voice filled with passion and conviction.
Arch-Golem Varnax raised his massive arm, producing a rumbling sound as if the very ground beneath him shook.
From his back, a large circle of mechanical runes appeared, shimmering with mysterious purple light, creating the impression that an ancient power was awakening from deep within the earth. Each movement of the glowing Golem radiated a vibrating sound, welcoming a genuine challenge with an intimidating aura that enveloped the atmosphere.
Varnax's magic:
"Axiom Judicator: Pillars of Immutable Law." His voice echoed like a thunderclap, evoking a terrifying aura in every corner around them.
Suddenly, pillars of red energy rained down from the sky, striking the ground with immense power, creating an area of anti-possibility—a place where all magic capable of altering fate or probability was assured to fail. The thunder of battle rumbled, sending waves of sound reverberating between the steep cliffs and dense forests encircling them.
Rinoa did not back down. She felt a rush of magic coursing through her, strengthening her resolve and courage. Her heart raced with tension, a burning spirit igniting in her eyes as she faced the darkness with unwavering bravery.
"I hear your call... Arthalyss, The Verdant Will!" In an instant, she felt the green roots, soft and glowing like moonlight, enveloping her body, radiating a powerful aura of life around her. With newfound determination, she transformed her spirit into a weapon, ready to confront the dark threat binding their world.
Arthalyss emerged—a slender, jade-scaled dragon spirit, with horns curling like tree roots, and eyes resembling ancient lakes that never dried. In a flash, magical energy vibrated in the air, and emerald light burst forth, wrapping around them with an unparalleled warmth of life.
"I am the will of a world that continues to grow, even as laws seek to suppress it." Arthalyss's voice reverberated, resonating with the frequency of nature, making it seem as if all the flora around them quivered in response. The ancient forest surrounding them felt alive; the leaves shivered as if obeying the call of the dragon, dancing with an irresistible spirit.
The magic of Rinoa and Arthalyss:
"Armonatrix Sylvarum: Reclamation of Living Fate." Rinoa's incantation carried an aura of power that penetrated the limits of matter, awakening the roots in the ground, as though they were uniting with the challengers in this blazing battle.
Waves of harmony and green magical roots crawled with immense strength, breaking the pillars of Immutable Law one by one. Amidst the mesmerizing magical commotion, the large branches of the surrounding trees began to lift and writhe, uniting in a flow of energy that surged and awakened from this clash.
Varnax responded:
"Canon Precept: Order's Supremacy." With every word he spoke, unseen bursts of energy erupted from him, creating immense pressure that felt like a powerful wind sweeping through the space. The ground trembled beneath him, and in an instant, the illusion of order he had created began to crumble into scattered fragments.
The rune cannon etched on her chest urged her to release a dense red beam that coalesced, a force that returned all magic to its original form—compelling Rinoa to cease being the Avatar. As the beam ignited with blinding intensity, Rinoa felt a crushing power, as if all possibilities were striving to pull her back into the terrifying darkness.
However, Arthalyss coiled around Rinoa.
"I am the living choice. The law only applies to those who cease to choose." The dragon's voice echoed in the increasingly tense atmosphere, heightening the intensity of the battle while creating a despair that challenged the desire to retreat.
Gigantic roots extended from the earth, creating a clear space that stood out amidst the battlefield, forcing Varnax's law to adapt or perish. Simultaneously, the ground beneath their feet trembled with the spirit of life, as if calling the warriors to move forward, grasping hope amid the chaos. The scent of damp earth and foliage lingered in the air, intensifying the tension that enveloped the fight.
Meanwhile, Fitran was trapped in a duel against a small Golem that launched attacks from all directions. Rainbow beams touched his feet as he moved with remarkable agility, dodging the hefty golem's strikes as if stepping in a deadly dance upon an invisible stage.
He chose not to use the Voidwright. Every movement he made was filled with grace and precision, reminiscent of a maestro conducting a magnificent orchestra. In an instant, he stomped his foot into the ground, creating a wave of energy that forced the golem to slow down, caught in the unexpected.
With his sword drawn, Fitran's gaze was cold and unwavering, a harbinger of the unwavering spirit within him. "Don't you understand?" he asked, his voice heavy with conviction, "The law is an illusion for those who do not dare to fight." Stepping forward, his form blended seamlessly with the shadows racing through the dim light, seizing every opportunity to gain the upper hand as if he were an artist crafting a masterpiece of combat.
The battle intensified as the golem's attacks were directed at him; in a flash, he raised his sword, moving with fluid motions that seemed in harmony with the rhythm of the fight, then launched a counterattack aimed directly at the golem's weak point. A loud thud resonated as his arrow struck the metal wall, rebounding mercilessly, adding to the tension amidst the chaos of battle.
He took a low stance, Excalibur held horizontally, while his left hand stretched wide to the side, ready to greet the next attack. Courage radiated clearly from his fearless face, as if he was challenging the darkness and threats surrounding him. Each strike he unleashed was a reminder to himself—a promise to never give up, even when hope felt thin and the future appeared bleak.
"Tatsuryū no Nagare: Senryū Kōha."
(Eastern Dragon Flow: Thousand Dragon Current)
Fitran moved.
Unlike the rigid Western swordsmen, he flowed like water, gliding between the Golem with light steps, delivering swift and deadly diagonal slashes. The setting sun reflected golden light on the blade, creating a dazzling illusion that could blind his opponents. In an instant, each swing became a graceful yet lethal dance, every slash cutting through two or three foes. This skill, honed over years of practice, was a fusion of martial arts and ancient magic.
The shimmering magic light glinted off the blade of his sword—not a borrowed power, but a reflection of his personal will, emanating from his deep conviction and dedication. At the same time, the air around him began to vibrate, as if responding to the fiery spirit within him, creating a thick, resonant wave of energy.
Small golems fell one by one, like rotting wood unable to withstand the profound force unleashed. The path to the Wind Shrine lay open before them. Fitran's very presence acted as an unshakeable magnet, drawing every eye present and making him the focal point of the fierce battle.
Rinoa felt Fitran's aura behind her. A magical touch flowed like a gentle, soothing current, enveloping her in tranquility amidst the raging chaos. The way had been cleared. Her heart raced as she could hardly comprehend how close she was to freedom from the threat that had long ensnared her.
Varnax, beginning to lose his physical functions, struggled to anchor himself to the ground, fighting to retain the remnants of his fading strength. Yet his efforts were in vain; he could feel the sands of time slipping through his fingers, a poignant realization that his time was running out. With a resonant growl, he warned, "If you step into the Wind Shrine, you will surpass the jurisdiction of the Stones, transcending the very laws that bind us."
I... I will not be able to protect you from anything that lies in the Center." His voice stirred uncertainty and fear, yet Fitran remained unfazed, his cold smile reflecting an unwavering confidence.
Rinoa bowed her head, her courage seeping into every fiber of her being like an ignited ember, but fragments of doubt began creeping in, casting disturbing shadows. "We did not come for protection," she stated firmly, her determination affirming her intent to move forward, despite the looming threats ahead.
With a single movement exuding confidence, she and Fitran advanced toward the path of the Wind Shrine—two valiant figures leaving Varnax and the golems behind them, who seemed to crumble like forgotten statues frozen in time. Fitran's smile reemerged, revealing his shining white teeth amid the darkness.
With each step closer to the Stones' threshold, a new tremor shook the ground, as if the earth itself were angry and unleashing its fury. From the depths of darkness and mystery, a piercing voice shattered the silence, raising the tension in the atmosphere.
In an instant, shimmering light filled the space once more, enveloping the area in a magical roar that resonated deep within their souls, a reminder of the raw power at play. The crystal in Varnax's chest ignited again—not with blazing red but with a bluish-purple hue, casting confusing shadows around them and heralding an ominous change in the battle.
Its heavy voice echoed like a deep whisper from the innermost layers of the Stones: "Protocol Inheritor: Activated."
Behind the Wind Shrine, a new form rose—a massive, intimidating shadow, as if birthed from the nightmares of peace. A powerful wave of energy surged forth, pushing Rinoa and Fitran as they struggled to adapt to the turmoil of their changing surroundings. The cacophony of their environment felt increasingly oppressive, as though the entire world was united in the tension that enveloped them.
Fitran turned, his eyes shining with burning spirit, reflecting an unwavering determination. "Once again we are tested," he said in a firm and cold tone, "but this time, we will shatter their limits." His blade moved swiftly, marked by a promising sharp flash, as if slicing through the overcast sky.
They felt it—the struggle was far from over. With a blazing spirit and a clear purpose in their minds, Fitran and Rinoa prepared to take the next step. United, they challenged the unpredictable fate, determined to liberate the world from the dark threat looming over them.
The crystal on Varnax's chest flared to life once more—this time, its light shimmered with a mysterious and blazing violet-blue hue.
His deep voice carried a profound whisper, as if emanating from the deepest layers of the Stones: "Inheritor Protocol: Active."
"Inheritor Protocol: Active."
Behind the Wind Shrine, a new form began to rise—
The Ancient Golem, older than Varnax and steeped in the history of the Stones, emerged, awakened by a mysterious power that even Varnax could not fully comprehend—an embodiment of forgotten eras and untold strength.
awakened by a mysterious power that even Varnax could not fully comprehend.
Fitran furrowed his brow, feeling uncertainty creep into his chest.
"This... isn't part of the ordinary laws of the Stones."
Rinoa gripped Excalibur with one hand, standing tall beside the cautious Fitran.
"This fight isn't over."
Giant footsteps shook the ground,
The Inheritor Stone-Golem advanced onto the battlefield, presenting a new horror that threatened them all.