Medusa lunged at Commander Nui, her lips trembling not from sorrow but from something far more terrifying - the ecstasy of violence barely contained. The soldiers nearest to them recoiled instinctively, their faces pale beneath their helmets. A young recruit, barely eighteen, dropped his sword with a clatter, his hands shaking so badly he couldn't retrieve it.
The impact sent shockwaves through the square. A merchant's stall exploded into splinters, the old woman who ran it crushed beneath falling debris before she could scream.
"Damn," Falkore muttered as he casually decapitated a soldier, watching the head roll past a group of fleeing civilians. A mother clutched her baby tighter, her silent tears cutting tracks through the grime on her face as she ran.
When the debris cleared, the soldiers saw Commander Nui holding Medusa at bay—then leaning back, using her momentum against her. His aura-shrouded fist rocketed forward.
The punch connected like a cannon shot, hurling her through the wall of a nearby temple where a priest knelt. He fell to his knees at the sight of her, his prayers turning to wordless moans of terror, before Medusa blew him to pieces.
Nui's gauntlet crumpled slightly from the force. He was a peak Count-rank warrior, his core magnitude frozen at 4.93 for a decade. No matter how he trained, no matter how he honed his will, one thing eluded him: enlightenment.
"You bloody hag!" Medusa's scream was feral as her aura exploded outward like a ruptured dam, shattering the temple.
The air warped around her. Cobblestones cracked under an invisible pressure. Soldiers collapsed, armor suddenly too heavy, lungs too weak. Nui's core magnitude detector spiked wildly:
4.1 → 4.48 → 4.62 → 4.99.
Then it stopped.
Nui didn't retreat. He adjusted his stance, knuckles slick with Null blood.
"Your beast was a plague," he growled. "Just like you."
Medusa's fingers twitched.
Then—
She moved.
Nui barely raised his arms in time. Her palm struck his crossed forearms, the impact sending him skidding back, boots carving trenches in stone. His muscles shrieked in protest. Before he could recover, Medusa's hands morphed into bestial paws and slammed him through a row of houses.
He tore through the last building, flipping midair to land in a crouch. Medusa was already upon him, giving no quarter.
[Slaughter Art: Executioner's Wrath]
A dozen aura spears materialized around Nui, two forming in his clenched fists. With a flick of his wrist, he hurled them.
The first spear impaled Medusa's chest—then detonated, vaporizing her right arm. The rest struck home, the ensuing explosion reducing her to gory fragments.
Blood and viscera rained down, splattering Nui's armor.
"Not all battles are won by rage," he muttered, turning away.
"I agree."
Nui whirled.
The scattered chunks of Medusa's body writhed, slithering together like living tar. Within seconds, she stood whole again—pristine, unharmed, smirking.
"Surprised?" She licked her lips. "You're already dead."
Nui's body locked. Agony lanced through him as he coughed up a torrent of blood. He looked down—the blood and tissue splattered on his armor had seeped through the gaps, merging with his skin.
He could feel it now.
His cells were changing.
Nui roared, violet Aether erupting from his pores. The corrupted flesh on his arms blackened and sloughed off like rotten meat.
"Cellular manipulation," he spat. "Pathetic trick."
Medusa smiled.
"Trick?"
She lunged again. Nui dodged—but her nails grazed his cheek. Instantly, his skin bubbled, veins darkening like ink in water.
Nui gritted his teeth. He'd fought Counts. Slaughtered Null hordes. Survived worse than this weeping monster.
But then—
"You don't understand," Medusa whispered. "I don't just kill flesh."
She raised her hand.
"I remake it."
Nui's body betrayed him.
His veins twisted. Bones groaned. His Aether—once a roaring river—stuttered, clogged by something alien.
"Wha—?"
His voice died as his vocal cords thickened. Fingers elongated into talons. His spine arched, vertebrae cracking as new muscle wove itself around his frame.
"No… NO!"
He collapsed, armor buckling as his body expanded. Skin split, revealing glistening black hide beneath. His jaw unhinged, needle-teeth sprouting from bleeding gums.
The soldiers watched in horror as their commander—the unbreakable Count—became something else.
Medusa crouched before the twitching monstrosity, tilting its misshapen head up.
"There we go," she cooed. "Much better."
The creature that was once Nui let out a wet, guttural sound. Not a scream.
A whimper.
Falkore whistled. "Damn. That's cold."
Medusa stroked the Null's head like a pet.
"Now," she murmured, "go play."
The abomination turned its glowing violet eyes toward the soldiers—its former brothers-in-arms.
And charged.
Through it all, Falkore laughed, the sound echoing cruelly over the carnage, while Medusa watched with rapt attention, her lips parted in something disturbingly close to arousal. The few surviving soldiers fought with the desperate strength of men who knew they were already dead, their cries of defiance mingling with the wails of the dying.
And high above, Code observed it all, his expression unreadable, the screams of Cliffhaven rising to the heavens like a damned choir.
NOTE [ NULL BEASTS ARE DIFFERENT FROM MUTANT BEASTS (ANIMALS THAT HAVEN'T UNDERGONE NULLIFICATION BUT HAVE BEEN ENHANCED LIKE HUMANS BY AETHER)]