B4 — 48. Warlord Fiona

AuthorSME

PoV:

1. Nemesis (Our Lion King That Likes Rachel!)

2. Fiona White (Our Lil' Warlord Irish Lass!)

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Nemesis’ hands closed around the throat of a twelve-foot-tall giant of a man, fingers flexing around his muscular neck and stopping his momentum; the hairy giant gagged, body jerking at the sudden shift in direction as they fell back to the earth.

Vasishtha’s scent permeated the bulky, gorilla-like figure, causing Nemesis’ teeth to grind before releasing a savage roar; he finally had something to blame in his grasp.

Crashing through the building, the man’s hand smacked Nemesis’ arm to no avail before he was carried into the store’s floor; fragments of tile exploded around them as the aisle rack crumpled under the falling giant’s weight.

Nemesis’ tail snaked around the imposter’s wrist, forcing it away while tucking his legs around the giant’s chest; the gorilla’s free hand pounded against his face, but he couldn’t even feel it as his fingers tightened around the hairy man’s throat.

Muscles straining, the gorilla-like man gurgled and spat, feet shoving the other racks away in his struggles.  “F-Filthy beast!  You, gngag—”

Whiskers twitching in frustration, Nemesis’ black lips peeled back to show his fangs as he growled.  “Why … Who ordered you to kill Ana?”

The only answer he got was a black-tipped arrow that appeared in the giant’s free hand that he tried jabbing into Nemesis’ left eye; his aura stopped it, not that the organ was weak enough to be penetrated by an arrow of this quality.

His ears twitched as the whistling wind, rain, and thunder came into focus, Rachel dropping into the store to lean against a counter two meters away; she didn’t say a word, observing him pin and choke the giant.

Why was she right … Why couldn't I think that it could all be a smokescreen?  Without Rachel’s level-head, I would have played right into their strings … Mara…

“Where is your man?”  Nemesis snarled as the gorilla-man continued to try and stab him with the arrow to no avail.  “Is the other one important—the one that conceals the scents of others?”

“Hmm … Are you satisfied?  I told you I’d find the real killer; this is him.  Hmm, and the other … I can’t see him giving us any information, and I don’t have anyone that could extract it in the time we’d need it.  Vash can have his fun and kill him.”

“How can you be sure he won’t talk?”

“Heh, he ripped out his own eye without hesitation when Vash cursed it with something; he’s a professional—not worth my time.”

But I am…  Nemesis hissed out a long stream of hot air that passed over the purple-faced giant; his struggles became sluggish as his brain was starved for oxygen.  “Grmgrr…”

She was a target because of me…

Fingers easing a little, the giant’s chest heaved, taking in air before coughing.  “Y-You—animal … I am—hunter!”

His whiskers twitched as a low hum came from the Lunar Hare.  “I heard you only survived his first assassination attempt because of Ana … It was probably revenge for taking what he saw as his prize; that, and the other man’s cooperation, shows this was a plot by a specific party.”

She’s right … Everything she’s told me has been right … If I cared more about those I protected than my own pride, I wouldn’t have been cursed … I could have saved Ana.

Nemesis’ claws eased out against the man’s broad chest as he stabilized himself; his golden aura diminished slightly from his internal struggle.  I should have known better … I’m my own worst enemy.

“Hmm?”

Rachel’s white left eyebrow rose as he put pressure against the man’s chest and launched himself back, allowing the twelve-foot-tall gorilla man to chuckle and spit while leaning to the side.  “F-Fool—he-he—you pretend to be man, Beast!”

“Huh … I thought you would have killed him by now,” Rachel muttered.

Nemesis’ luminous yellow eyes fixated on the giant as he pushed himself back, summoning his colossal bow; he needed to rebuild his confidence, or Mara and the rest of the people that relied on his protection would be next.  “You believe yourself a hunter … I am more than just a ‘beast’ … Prove yourself stronger than a king.”

Rachel didn’t move, her tongue pressed against the side of her cheek while watching the events play out; once again, the Lunar Hare showed herself more than confident in handling her own safety as the giant jumped into action.

His arrow and bow vanished as he leaned to the side, using his free hands to flip upright, displaying incredible flexibility; the creature’s ugly face creased with animosity, bow reappearing in his left hand.  Nemesis had to admit he was somewhat impressed by this gorilla man’s dexterity in maneuvering the colossal weapon inside the store’s confined space, not built for his height.

A black arrow notched and pulled back in an instant; a misshapen, toothy grin broke across his ugly man’s face.  “Foolish beast!”  A shadowy aura drew in the light to obscure his weapon, making the projectile invisible before he loosed the shot.

Nemesis didn’t budge, allowing his aura to strengthen from the pride he felt in his invulnerability; the arrow struck his muscular left breast, causing the shaft to shatter.

On the other hand, Rachel’s eyebrows furrowed, seemingly able to follow another, invisible projectile’s trajectory; shifting her head to the left, Nemesis felt on instinct that she’d dodged the cloaked missile, whizzing past her left cheek.

An agitated note resounded in her throat while smoothly pivoting to the side, a hidden second shot forming from the arrow’s butt to pass under her chest and penetrate the wall, leaving a fist-sized hole.  “Can you leave me out of this?  I have places to be, as well, Nemesis.”

Ignoring her prompt, he stepped forward, making the giant shuffle away in surprise.  “Is that what you expected to kill me with, Hunter?  More!  Show me you have something stronger!”

“Ugh…”  Jumping back without regard for obstacles, the gorilla-man’s back broke through the cinder blocks and iron, drawing another shimmering white arrow from nothing upon entering the storm.

“Hmm?!  Is that the arrow that killed Ana?  Come on!”

It sparkled through the air and dispersed against Nemesis’ glistening fur.  “Pathetic!”  he roared, launching after him.  “Show me you are the hunter you claim!”

Voice now quivering, the man tried to retreat to the roof.  “Stupid beas—”

Claws fully extending as the image of Ana falling to the mud flashed across his mind, Nemesis roared, “Weak!”

Fingers ripping into the foul man’s ankles, Nemesis whipped him forward, snapping his tibia and arching his back.  The giant screamed out of panic more than fear, but it turned into a grunt when driven into a pallet, shattering the wood and forcing him into the pavement—blood to mix with the running water, spear-like pieces embedded into his gut.

“I may be a stupid beast,” Nemesis whispered, sharp teeth bared as his fingers twisted the giant’s leg, snapping more muscle and bone, yet not a sound left the unconscious man’s lips, “but I’ll kill all of you…”

A slight frown appeared on Rachel’s lips as she posted herself just outside of the rain, arms folded under her chest as her head tilted to the side.  “Done venting?  I’d like to set my ears on something else, but I need to know where you stand before we go any further … I brought you to Ana’s true killer, as I said I would.”

“Mmgm,” his gaze drifted back to the bleeding-out giant.  He knew Rachel was right; the assassin wouldn’t give them any meaningful information.

Walking around the giant’s still frame, Nemesis’ foot came down on his skull, sending blood splattering in all directions and dying his wet fur red.  “So long as you keep your end of the bargain, I’ll follow you wherever the next target is; I want Mara back, the responsible party dead, and a clean fight for my kingdom.”

“In that order … I suppose that shouldn’t be too difficult; things are already in the works…”  she trailed off, a deep frown touching her full lips, and he noticed a slight twitch in her left ear.

“You’ll need to give me a minute to double-check the battlefield, though.”  A shiver ran through her bones as she read the flow of misfortune, ears tilting to the left.  “Something bad is coming…”

“Meaning?”  Nemesis questioned, golden aura dimming slightly as he moved to join her, vision scanning the direction she was observing.

“I don’t know…”

The Lunar Hare became a blur, and he was reminded how fast this girl was as black flames and red lightning traced around her figure, using the unique platform that appeared to maneuver to the roof.

Following her, Nemesis could hear the monstrous cries of a massive creature tearing up the city, and several other unnatural calls met it from the western warlord’s area.  “You don’t seem happy.”

A sharp hiss passed through Rachel’s perfect teeth.  “Something terrible is about to happen … I can’t stop it, but I can mitigate some of the damage.  Nemesis, are you willing to trust me?”

Thunder rolled overhead as the wind and rain took a turn for the worst.  “That depends on what you ask.”

“I want you to go to the northeast—the scent of those two women I met with—you remember them?”

“Yes?  Did they set Ana’s assassination?”

”Mmh … They are involved, without a doubt.”

“Okay…”  He took a step forward but paused as she cursed.

“Dammit … If you find a man with a chessboard, kill him—the owner of the chessboard … Capture him.  He may be drawing pictures and appear drunk … I’m not so sure.”

Feeling a tad confused about the request, Nemesis nodded.  “And you?”

“I’m going to stop what I fear is the real plot … I’ve been a step behind this whole time, but I think I see the full picture now.  Be careful, Nemesis, and whatever you do, do not let Miora put a collar around your neck.”

“Miora?”

“The black woman dressed like a queen; she is mentally torturing Mara, enslaving her body to do her bidding.”

Nemesis’ aura brightened at the news, lips peeling back as his own claws bit into his palm, drawing blood.  “What direction?”

“Maria, the white-haired Unicorn woman, should be able to dispel the choker and heal Mara—Miora also has a slave that can teleport—again, don’t let her collar you.”

“Where,” he repeated, a snarl touching his tone.

Rachel pointed, and he launched in that direction, mind drawing him back to the conversation he had with the woman in the locker rooms not too long ago; everything he’d built was crumbling around him, but if there was one thing he’d do right, it would be to save the first woman that had put her trust in him.

I’m coming, Mara; hold on just a bit longer!

* * *

A smile brightened Fiona’s face as she spun around in the air, supporting her crew as she took them to their destination.  Benedict chuckled as she turned around and stuck her thumb up.

“Okay, gang; we can’t let Maria’s group have all the fun!  Let’s finish this with zero casualties!”

“Eh, he-he, you really think we can do that?”  Grace tentatively asked.  “I mean, I’d like to think it will be that easy, but experience…”

Isabel and Edelira’s vision fell to the dark city below, and the younger sister sighed.  “After Camagüey … I’m with you, Fiona!”

“Yeah!”  Benedict pumped a fist into the air.  “We need a happy ending!”

“That would be so nice,” Scarlet mumbled, nervously scanning the buildings.  “Why is Rachel rushing things, though?”

“No need to sweat,” Fiona encouraged, knowing the bloodsucker was having doubts about her own abilities after the last time she went in scythe blazing.  “Rachel’s our leader, right?  She may be Devil Rachel now, but she’s a good Devil—on our side!  We trust our friends.  Right?”

Grace adjusted her hat, a forced grin in place.  “Eh-I mean, I don’t know, Fiona, Devil Rachel makes me nervous—any Devil thing after that Hell hole.”

“Well, I trust her!”  Fiona returned.  “I haven’t known Rachel for long—even if it feels like I’ve known her for years—but she hasn’t steered us wrong yet; she got us support and recognition.”

“She did save your life,” Isabel pointed out while looking at the cowgirl.

“True … Can’t deny that…”

Fiona twirled as they neared their destination.  “You see them, Ms. Fangs?”

“Mmh … Yeah, a lot of … Woah, that Hydra looks intense … Oh, my…”

“Scarlet?”  Fiona slowed as the girl’s eyes widened in horror, hands rising to her mouth as shadows embraced her.  “What’s up?”

“Erm…”  Grace’s sharp blue eyes darted to the buildings, scanning for her.  “I don’t see her … A ton of Demi, though—wow, they have full-on shield supports to cut the weather down.  I can’t … Is that—”

She yelped as Fiona felt a friendly enter her radius again, bypassing her Wild Shield; reapplying Levitate, her hands went to her mouth upon seeing the woman in Scarlet’s arms.  “What did they do to her?”

“Are those burns?”  Benedict hissed.

Edelira shook her head.  “That’s horrible—it looks like they branded her…”

Fiona hovered closer to better look at the dark-haired woman; Scarlet had wrapped her in a curtain since she appeared to be naked.  A living fire seemed to slowly sink into her flesh on her visible skin, carving occult symbols.

Herbs showing similar patterns were tied around her wrist, ankles, and neck, while black needles seemed to be stuck into her ears and nose.  Fiona wasn’t sure if she was too traumatized to speak or even alive.

“Is she…”

Scarlet shook her head.  “No … I’m sorry, Fiona, but—but I had to kill the horrible people doing this to her … They were still shoving those needles into her ears.”

“No loss,” Grace darkly grunted.  “They weren’t human anyway…”

Fiona nodded.  “To do that to someone … Yeah, umm, Maria … Mmgm…”  she hissed as Selvaria’s roar shook through their bones, and it may have been Fiona’s imagination, but the wind and storm seemed to pick up.

Benedict followed her gaze.  “What should we do?  Can we do anything?”

“Rachel should have known about her condition.  Right?  She still wanted us to go to the stadium and keep her safe, so … is she not in danger?”

Scratching her scalp, Fiona puffed out a long breath.  “I don’t know … I said we should trust Rachel.  Mmh … Scarlet, what do you think—how is she?”

Black lips pulling together, the Vespertine Reaper used her blood to better support the woman in the air.  “So far as I can tell, her life force is draining … but it’s a lot slower than it should be.  I think she has a self-healing ability … She still has two days before she dies.”

Satisfied with that answer, Fiona put her hands on her hips.  “Okay.  We follow Rachel’s plan, guys!  Ben, Izzy, Edel, you guys are on protection duty, as planned; I’ll put a Levitate spell on her that should last at least an hour—that should help you.  Scarlet?”

“Already on it—this portal will take you to the stadium; just find a safe place.”

Fiona moved Isabel into place to transfer the girl into her arms.  “I don’t know why Rachel wants us to save her, but she needed it.  Good luck, Guard Team.”

“Thanks, and stay safe,” Edelira urged as she sent the twins through the blood.

“Sure thing!”

Benedict hesitated, rubbing his arm to look back at her.  “Are you sure you’ll be okay, Fiona … I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Aww, aren’t you sweet!”  Grace cooed.  “Is this the part where you kiss?”

Fiona glared at the cowgirl’s forced smile.  “Oh, shush!”

“Just a joke!”

“Mhm … I’ll be fine, Ben,” Fiona lifted her arm to flex, showing no muscle whatsoever.  “I may not look it, but I’m not just a little firecracker; I’m a warlord tonight!”

“Just … take care of yourself,” Benedict whispered, smiling at her.  “You’ve really helped me after everything I saw … I do care for you.  Be safe.”

Fiona smiled at the confession, waving him off.  “You, too, Ben.  I’ll see you soon.”

Nodding, the Pixy shot into the blood, allowing Scarlet to close it.

Glancing to the northeast, Fiona hummed.  “You good after killing those people, Scarlet?   Eh, I … know you don’t like it.”

Scarlet rubbed her left arm, glaring at the blood that floated around her.  “I do, actually … That’s the problem.”

“Umm—yeah, you know what I mean…”

“Ahem, anyway, umm … I’ll start teleporting out the hostages I see.  You do your thing, Fiona … I’m, heh, sure you’ll be a good warlord.

“Thanks; see you soon!”

With that, it was only Grace and her left, floating in the air.

“Found the collars?”  she asked, peering through the darkness with her night vision to track the large group of over two hundred people that were gathering.  “No Hydra slaying for you, either.  Right?”

“Uh, yeah … I’m still feeling it in my hands … You got it?”

“Hehehe, who do you think you’re talking to?”  she asked, giving the girl a peace sign.  “I mean, I don’t blame you guys; you haven’t seen me go all out, but there’s a reason Rachel gave me this mission.  You can call me pure magical destruction!”

“Eh-he-he, I hope so, my little barbie girl, because what I’m lookin’ at…”

“Hmm?  Where?”

“There…”

Following the cowgirl’s fingers, Fiona grinned; a weaving spinal fin waved in the heavy winds, poking up just above a few houses.  She couldn’t see its heads yet, but she realized there was a shrill call carried across the gusts that weren’t the wind.

“Looks like I’ve got a party to … Uh … Huh?”

Mouth parting in question, she watched eight draconic heads suddenly rise into the air as a blast of what Fiona could only describe as an electrified ice beam illuminated the night, showing an outline of Selvaria’s Leviathan form; the discharge slammed into the tallest building in the northeast before swinging around to strike two of the Hydra’s heads—they exploded on impact.

“Did she just…”

Grace nodded.  “Uh, it’s raining frozen Hydra brains?   Uh-oh, they lost control.”

Fiona rolled her eyes as the monster thrashed around, screaming in pain and rage; it broke away from the golden ropes fastened to the other six heads and tore through the stone wall down the main street, heading for Selvaria.

“Look at that, ten heads, now,” Grace dryly muttered.  “More isn’t always better—oh, it also grew in size a bit.  Well … Not our problem anymore.”

Fiona giggled.  “Selvaria gets her big monster battle—everyday madness, like it’s a habit—you know what it is!  Alright, let’s do this, Milk Girl!”

“Hide and seek?”  Grace asked, sighing at the nickname that had stuck.  “How will they ever find you, Ms. Shorty.”

“Oh, they’ll notice me.  It’s time to party—here you go—only Level I Fly, so you’ve got five minutes to be Peter Pan!  Don’t waste all my dust in one place!”

“Isn’t Tinkerbell a Pixy?”

“Hehehe!”

Breaking away from the Legend, Fiona zipped through the sky like a green lantern until she stopped in front of a rather grumpy-looking elderly man that didn’t look like a Cuba native.  “Hello!”

“Stupid storm, mak—woah—that the…”  He jumped back, glancing around at the other men and women, oblivious to her entrance.  “You, uh—I’m not drunk or drugged, so … Why am I seeing a tiny girl with wings?”

“Good question!  Do you have a megaphone?”

“Eh-he-he, why do—no, heh, never mind,” he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck and looking to his left.  “Uh, maybe you should go, little fairy girl.”

“He-he, I can’t do that!”  She puffed up her chest.  “I’m going to be the new Warlord of Cuba!  You can be my subordinate.  Good deal, huh?  We’ll have a party!”

“Wha…”

“Aye!  Ronnie, what are ya doin’ over there—we’re gettin’ ready for the boss; eh, what’s that light … Where do I get … Yo, wha…”

Fiona caught sight of a megaphone held by a bird-type Beastkin; a sad-looking boy seemed to have been forced into creating a shield for her to remain dry.  Darting over to her and leaving the man in a stupor, Fiona stopped a few feet in front of her.  “Hey!  What’s your name?”

“¿Qué la niña?!”  the woman gasped, jumping back as her feathers flew on end.

[That the little girl?!]

“Hmm, let me just take that real fast…”

“Ehh?!”

Levitating the loudspeaker out of the stunned woman’s hands, she also stole her shoe, making the bird cry out as her feet were pulled out from under her to land flat on her back in the mud.  The boy jumped up in shock, following her rise into the air as Fiona giggled and used the shoe to hold the button down.

Her voice projected across the solemn space, drawing everyone to her glowing green light.  “Ahhhem!  Hello!  Pad-dump-pa-pum!  Is this on?!  Ah, hehehe, hello!  Yup, it’s Lil’ Miss Warlord here!  I’m about to pop-off, so grab your friend and gather around; we’re about to go to Neverland!”

She blinked, smiling down at the confused crowd.  “Eh, hmm … What was it … Loco Hada esa-cabesa … con el roho?”

[Crazy Fairy that-head … with the soul?]

“Uh … Who is this girl?”  the man next to Ronnie asked.

Fiona brushed out her hair and laughed.  “Oh, I’m sorry!  I forgot to do the first thing a warlord’s supposed to do!”

“See, look, mmh, I mean, it’s pretty straightforward,” her finger lifted to the sky, “I told you, I’m about to bang!  Level one, level two…”

The crowd’s jaws slackened as the night lit red, a ball of flames igniting as she charged Conflagration III, each charged stage increasing its size until it hit the size of a tank, and finally, compressed into a blue-colored basketball.  “I’m Overlord Fiona!  Who wants to fight?”

“Who do you think you are?”

Fiona’s grin rose as a blue-haired man that looked jacked on roids stepped out of a nearby building, a big hammer in his hands.  “My challenger?!  Are you the leader of this place?”

He responded by running forward and throwing his mallet at her.

“Hmm?”  Fiona’s lips pushed out as she followed its path, shattering the door. “Huh? What’s with that aim?!”

It flew back to his hand, and he spun it around like a wannabe Thor.  “If you do not leave, little girl, I will crush you like that wood.”

Fiona’s left eye narrowed, smile widening as she weaved the basketball-sized blue fire in a circle, causing steam and a wave of heat to swirl around its vortex.

She had to make a scene to keep their focus away from Scarlet and the people from scattering—making light of the situation seemed like a good strategy; plus, these people were planning on killing people—if she needed to get heavy-handed, she wouldn’t feel that bad.  “I don’t want to go.”

Tossing it to the side, it struck the road and blinded the throng as a pulse of superheated air ejected the earth as the pressurized moisture left burn marks on the nearest men and woman’s skin and pelted them with heated stone.

Screams echoed through the night as at least ten ran, but a string of random attacks launched toward her in the next instant.  Fiona yawned, crossing her legs, feeding her Wind Shield, and pulling a plastic bag of sugar closer to snack on.

She started humming a song Maria had shown her earlier.  “Hehehe, c’mon … Do you guys think you can actually do anything with those kinds of attacks … Did you just throw water at me?  Here, this is how you really take a bath.”

The attacks slowed to a stop as she hummed, feeding Water Ball III until it was the size of a swimming pool.  “I hope you can swim!  Heh, see, I’m kind of a big deal; you can’t even touch me!”  She dropped it on a group, washing them out.

“Bossman!  Where are you?”  Fiona called, yellow aura sparking around her as she sent bolts of electricity down to act as a taser, zapping the fleeing army.  “Oh, c’mon, guys!  Look at it this way, I am a boss—I am the boss of your freaking boss!  Who wants to join me—throw your hands in the air and start singing and dancing if you don’t want to die?! 

“T-The hostages are gone!”

“What happened to the East group?!”

“The slaves are free!”

“There’s fire everywhere!”

“Help!  Help!  It’s the devil!”

Of that which Fiona could understand, she giggled, and the twelve men and women she’d been chasing threw their hands in the air and started doing their best to dance and sing, tears and welts on their cheeks.

“Pad-dump-pa-pum … Hehehe!  Okay, if you’re on my team, get to the middle of the street and start dancing together!  Bbbbthhhrou!  I’m coming for you with shocks and burns if you don’t dance!”

The street lit with lights as fires erupted across the street; the strong currents swept the evaporated water into the sky, and after three minutes of utter destruction and taunting, Fiona had over a hundred people in tears as they danced to her melody and the twelve that refused locked in earth prisons—not only trapped but in embarrassing positions for everyone to see.

“That’s it!  Sing with me!  I say quit it if you’re tryin’ ta cuddy!  Tonight, we Pad-dump-dump.  Grab somebody and keep it poppin’ after dark-da-ta-da!  I don’t wanna go!  Alright, time for a beat switch—we’re the revolution!  Who wants to be a part of my dance revolution?  Can you hear the sound?!  Are you cold?  You need to dance harder!”

“I hear the sound, Overlord Fiona!”

“I-I hear it, too, Overlord Fiona!”

“I … I’m not cold, Overlord Fiona!”

“Please, Overlord Fiona; Mercy!”

Spanish voices filled the night, mixed with the English as Fiona lit the storming night with multi-colored lights and forced them into a dance, snacking on sugar and floating fire, ice, electric, and earth spheres around them.

“I can’t hear you!”

“We’re the revolution!”

“Good!  Okay, now, we’re moving locations to … Hmm?”

Fiona blinked as a sharp object struck her Wind Shield unlike any previous, almost penetrating her defense.  

“B-Boss!”

“Save us, Boss!”

A grin lifted Fiona’s lips as she ceased her other spells, emerald shine encompassing her frame as she spotted the person they recognized; Salvador, the Warlord Rachel had scouted out the previous night, stepped forward with a man and woman on either side of him.

“Finally, so you’re the guy I need to beat to officially take over this area?”  Fiona asked through the megaphone, legs crossing the opposite direction while studying him from her lofty position.  “Not going to welcome me?”

Her teeth flashed as the woman next to him cursed, creating another icicle shard for Salvador to use; the group was shouting his praise and cursing her.  “Ice, huh … I’m something of a Frozen fan myself,” blue light mixed with the green, “but let me show you what real Ice Magic looks like.”

The woman’s angry eyes soon widened in disbelief as they finished at the same time, and Salvador growled, “Give it to me…”

“W-Warlord, that…”

“Gggmmgm…”

Fiona giggled, spinning her twelve-foot-long shard of condensed liquid in a drill-like fashion—Ice Lance II—and leaned forward to place her elbows on her knee.   “I’ll be straight with you, Mr. Warlord.  You can’t win.  Why don’t you become my subordinate?”

“I’d rather die.”

“Shame,” Fiona mused as he threw the javelin with shocking speed.

Fiona’s met it in an instant, making the man and woman beside him scream and dive to the side; Salvador didn’t budge an inch.  Her lance obliterated it to graze the Warlord, cutting a gash across his skin that leaked green liquid.

“Mmh … Right, a poison man!”  Fiona casually pointed at the three for a swirl of dirt to encase them.  “I’ve heard you're a meathead.  Are you—oh?!”  She clapped when he snarled, veins pulsing out as his body grew like the Hulk, complete with the green-tinted skin, shattering the first-stage Earth Prison.  “Not bad.”

He puffed up his chest, smacking his chest.  “If you want my position, you’ll need to kill me!”

“Is that right?”  Fiona hummed, aura tinting yellow for sparks to dance around her shield as he ran toward her.  “I bet you have Elemental Resistance … How much?”

A bolt shot out, bouncing off his skin.  “A non-charged Shock I is a no-go … Shock II?”

Fiona lazily spun around his attempts at throwing things at her.  She truly was his biggest counter—a mage—the spark at her fingertips bounced to each finger until it reached all five.  A flash of light and Salvador was sent tumbling across the ground.

“Ug-argh!  This is nothing!  You lot,” he screamed, “don’t stand there and watch—attack the stadium—kill anyone you come across!  This is war!”

Fiona’s smile fell, golden aura intensifying, lightning vaporized Salvador’s head—Bolt IV—and the scale of Warpath eased just before activating.  Voice turning cold, the men and women dropped to their knees in disbelief as their leader fell to the wet pavement, corpse charred.

A bitter taste filled her mouth; she really didn’t want to kill anyone, even if these were bad people, but Warpath had been about to activate with Salvador’s declaration, and if that happened, every one of these murderers would look exactly like their former leader.

“If I see any of you take a step beyond my sight, I will kill you—I’m done playing games—who doesn’t want to be a part of Warlord Fiona’s side … Hmm?”

Electricity encircled the speechless pack of murderers and criminals, the discharge feeding into the pools of water to bring the throng to their bellies, gagging and crying.

“Oh, really—no one—that’s good … Now, let’s go make it official with the rest of the gang in the area … You’re under new management,” she muttered through the megaphone and levitated the charred corpse to show proof of position.

“I really hope no one else wants to anger the Overlord Fairy—let’s go, people!  Oh, can’t walk yet?  Hmm … Any healers?”  Her gaze fixated on a crying woman with burn marks across her face from the shock; a green glow illuminated her frame as she healed herself.  “You!  Get goin’!  We got places to be—get everyone on their feet!  Yup, there we go!  No rest for the wicked!”

Grace soon joined her to inform her that she’d run out of bullets, and the remainder of the collared Demi were heading for Selvaria’s group—over three dozen; Fiona had her own group to handle, and looking up at the sky, she grinned upon seeing Cahira’s ship descending with eight helicopters that had used the Dragon Turtle as a Carrier.

Lines fell around them as the U.S. military descended upon the city.  “Maybe we can go help out our girls!  You still good, Milk Girl?!”

“Ugh … Is that ever going to go away, Jim?”  Grace cried, cheeks darkening as she glanced to her trusty steed.

Fiona hovered over to pat his head.  “Hehehe, nope!  Never!  By the way, where’d Scarlet get off to?”

“Mmgm … Can’t tell you.  Should we go look for her?”

“Scarlet?  Pfft!  The Vampire girl that can teleport anywhere, see miles—X-ray vision through clothes, he-he-he—she’s probably looking for Rachel after getting everyone out.”

Grace sighed.  “Probably.  Man, it’s hard to hear anything over those monster roars, though!  Looks like things are wrapping up, though … Tom’s launched the Special Demi Units.”

A forced smile lifted Fiona’s cheeks while watching the teams of Spec-OPs units immediately take control of the situation; it was a secret group he’d been putting together, and it took a while to transport them here, but they’d bought enough time—Cahira had some serious air miles over the last week.

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