Sylphs—wind elementals. Once I was sure of it, I started incanting Words.
“Verba volant...”
It was the same invocation as before, the Word of Lightning, but I expanded upon it with the Words that Gus had used to destroy the splinter of the god of undeath.
“...conciliat, sequitur...”
I put my fingers to work as well, drawing several complex Words in the air. Like a crest or a magic circle, the intricate glyphs spread through the air. And finally, I spread my arms solemnly and shouted—
“Tonitrus... Araneum!!”
The Words echoed instantly. The gathered sylphs sang them out in rounds, their harmony ever-increasing, and lightning forked again and again, darting and spreading through the air. The web of bolts expanded outwards, and though it weakened as it traveled, still it descended and fell like a net upon the wyvern flying far overhead.
The monster cried out in pain. It was convulsing, its flight posture broken. But it had only been struck by a single fork of many, weakened over a great distance; it wasn’t enough to bring it down. It quickly recovered its balance.
To the wyvern, the lightning strike had probably been a matter of “that really hurt,” and that was all—but that was more than enough. It looked in our direction. It looked at us, who had caused it pain—and then it circled around and began to fly towards us. The wyvern had recognized us as enemies.
These kinds of monsters were generally aggressive. Gus had told me that in situations where normal wild creatures would flee, monsters like wyverns would instead opt for aggressive behavior.
“Here it comes.”
There was only one issue, one question left, and that was how who I was now measured up to the way those three had once been.
As the wyvern drew closer, I rapidly placed spells and benedictions on myself and Menel to enhance our physical abilities. Menel also called to some elementals, and strengthened us both in the same way. With every passing moment, the almost birdlike figure grew larger and larger as it approached.
Gracefeel, I thought, I will now fight for my oath: to drive away evil and bring salvation to those in sorrow. Please, bless me with your protection!
“On the flame of Gracefeel!” I held my spear, Pale Moon, in both hands and offered a prayer. A huge wall of light rose around the temple. It was the blessing Sanctuary.
There was some buzz from the people watching, but I ignored them for now. I didn’t have the time to worry about it.
The wyvern headed straight towards us and collided with the luminous wall. There was a violent sound.
I prayed. I prayed.
Be unbreakable as adamantine. Be eternal. Be everlasting. Reject all that is evil!
But I heard a sharp intake of breath followed by the resonating sound of cracking, and then the stunned, hollow voices of Menel and others.
“What—”
Even I, for a moment, forgot all about praying, and my eyes opened wide. What was I seeing?! The wyvern was fighting against the glowing wall, and the veins across its whole body were turning black, noxious air pouring from each and every one. The black miasma was encroaching on the sacred walls, breaking them down, and then—
With the spur on its foot, the wyvern kicked the wall of light. There was a sound like glass shattering, and as the wyvern descended, now black with miasma, I saw its emotionless, reptilian eyes capture me in their sights.
By reflex, I dropped into a roll, and the thick claws on its legs just barely missed me. The wind pressure blasted roof tiles everywhere. I lost my balance and almost fell straight off the roof, barely managing to stay on the edge.
“‘Sylphs! Elegant maidens of the wind, princesses who dance in the gale!’” It was Menel’s voice. He had skillfully kept his balance and still had both feet firmly on the roof.
The wyvern blew past and then spun around, leaving a trail of miasma behind as it flew, and once again closed in on the roof where Menel stood—
“‘Those foolish enough fancy themselves better dancers—’” It was another incantation. “‘Show them the bitter taste of earth!’”
At that moment, there was a rush of air, a powerful downburst. No matter how strange the wyvern’s appearance and behavior, there was nothing it could physically do about an intense air current hitting its wings. Its flight posture broke down, and—
“Will!!”
“Ligatur, nodus, obligatio!” I cast the Word of Knotting over and over. The wyvern’s wings stiffened.
It plummeted through the air, struggling all the way down, and impacted the ground. There was a deep boom, and the earth shook. I looked down and saw that the wyvern had fallen on the fountain in the front garden.
I leaped down from the roof, landed safely, and sprang upon the wyvern.
Inside my head, I could feel chains straining, fissures forming in a ring of steel. The wyvern was fighting against the Word of Knotting. Given enough time, it would break free of it and take to the sky again. I had no intention of allowing it to do so.
The fountain was broken, and water was spouting out over the temple’s front garden.
Wielding my spear, I sprinted towards the wyvern planted there. My aim was simple: a spear charge directly into its heart or windpipe. Just like Blood, who had finished off a wyvern in a single swipe of his sword, I was going to finish this with a single strike through its weak spot.
The wyvern sensed my approach and turned its head.
“Acceleratio!” I shot forward like a bullet. I aimed for the wyvern’s heart, Pale Moon glinting in my hands. The landscape soared past with furious momentum, the wyvern’s body quickly grew enormous in my vision—and the next moment, there was a furious howl, and the wyvern charged at me as well.
We crossed—and then—impact. I pushed my spear into its miasma-spewing chest, and with a gasp of panic, I immediately let go before my wrist and elbow were crushed by the monster’s momentum, and I rolled to the side. The spear had stuck. There was no doubt.
A cheer rose around me.
However—
“No way...” I heard Bee’s voice from somewhere.
I turned, a terrible feeling building inside me. The wyvern was slowly turning its head to me as well. Had I been hindered by its rubbery skin? Its tough muscles? Or had I simply missed my target? The fact was—I hadn’t managed to impale its heart.
More miasma poured out. The wyvern looked at me, red flames burning inside its mouth.
“Run! It’s going to breathe!”
There were still people behind me who hadn’t gotten away yet. I couldn’t let it breathe fire. But I had no time, I had no plan. I had to act. Act! But how?!
And then—in my heart—Blood laughed. He laughed loud. And he said:
Wreck him.
“Acceleratio!” With the Word, I charged right up to the wyvern, too close for it to release its breath. To keep from hurting itself, the monster let its flames pour out the sides of its mouth, snapping its jaws at me instead. I narrowly dodged, and threw both my arms around its enormous neck.
Can’t think of a good solution? Nature of your enemy is unknown? In my mind, Blood raised a fist and yelled at the top of his voice. Then MUSCLE! Violence! Wreck him!!
The miasma spouting out of the wyvern started to slowly attack my arms, but the burns I had there—my stigmata—flared white and held it back.
I grunted as I strained my muscles. The wyvern resisted. I held its neck tight, choking off its airway and blood flow. I spread my legs wide apart and dropped my hips, making sure I had good footing. With all my strength, I twisted my body to hold on tight as the wyvern resisted.