Inexorable Chaos

The [Maids], to their annoyance, are finding the Iron Rain a far more difficult and dangerous vessel than the pirate ship they had boarded. At first, it was easy going. Distracted [Sailors] were quickly dealt with and those that came to their senses lacked the combat skills to be an actual threat. The [Pirates] the [Maids] had fought on even footing were more dangerous.

The problem, though, is that a vessel like the Iron Rain has dedicated and high level combat classes. [Boarders], [Combat Sailors], [Warmage Marines] and various similar classes have engaged the [Maids] and completely halted their conquest. Where the [Maids] have superior equipment in the form of weapons and armor, the enemy counters with superior levels, skills, and experience.

It also doesn't help that staves are a poor weapon to use in confined spaces. Many [Maids] have found themselves struck on the armor because they couldn't position their stave to block the hit. In essence, it has been a slowly losing battle, and would have already been lost if the enemy [Mages] had spells strong enough to not be neutralized by the [Maids]’ enchanted armor.

“[Queen’s Ambush]!” Fiona shouts.

And with that single skill, the battle shifts. [Maids] not already in combat are transported behind enemy combatants. Not a second passes as staves break bone and shatter spine.

The [Bandit Queen] walks down the steps with a casual gait befit of someone who stands above the rabble. A [Queen] amidst her [Bandits], so to speak. As an enemy dies, she raises a hand and points at a corpse. “[Raise Undead].”

Death magic flows from her finger and enters the corpse. The former enemy rises up and joins the [Maids], bolstering their numbers. She does this several times before pushing the undead into the lead.

By the time Fiona arrives at her destination, which is, annoyingly, at the bottom of the ship, she has a veritable skeleton crew. Most of the crew, really. If she wanted to, she could sail the Iron Rain on her own if her mana regeneration would allow.

“Open the door,” she orders.

One of the [Maids] complies. The [Maid] twists the handle, but finds it locked. She then steps back, spins her stave, and then slams it on the lock. Wood shatters and a scream is heard from inside. The [Maid] opens the door and Fiona enters. She finds herself in a room with a crib, a confused child, and two [Caretakers] cowering in the corner.

She ignores them and walks up to the crib and smiles as a baby boy meets her eyes. She reaches down and picks up the child, and then frowns when she finds the child has soiled himself and that the pee had gotten cold.

She glances at the [Caretakers], “Why did you not change him?”

One of the [Caretakers] gulps, “We didn't have time. We were told to wait here.”

The [Bandit Queen] shakes her head in disgust. It had taken her a good ten, maybe fifteen minutes to get to the bottom of the ship. More than enough time for pee to get cold and enough time to change the child.

“Break their bones,” Fiona orders. She walks out of the room with the child in her arms amidst the sound of screams, breaking bones, and a giggling little boy.

___________________________

The divine. A feeling that Nickolas has felt many times throughout his life, when a god or goddess touches the mortal world with their power. He’s felt it in the churches when blessings are given to those that are worthy. Or, rarely, when blessings are strengthened, as is the case for himself.

Now, normally, such powers happen almost exclusively in places of worship, where the wall between mortal and divine is weakest. It is largely believed that doing so in a place of worship is easiest for the gods. But, like all rules, exceptions do exist.

The [Abbot] turns around, away from the ball of orbiting ships and instantly focuses on the source of the divine presence. A woman in a robe stands within a halo of light surrounding her glowing fist. He can feel the divine power entering her, embracing her with its warmth.

The light dances and twists, the divine energy churns around her, traveling to the divine mark near the woman's neck. The light quickly disappears, and the fountain of divine energy halts as the transition completes.

The entire ordeal had lasted all of three seconds, but to Nickolas, he felt it had taken much longer.

Then, to his surprise, the woman frowns as she stares at empty air.

Only then does Nickolas notice the surroundings. All of the [Sailors] are unconscious or dead, and he can feel a battle happening inside the ship.

“Aegir, we have a problem. There are intruders aboard the ship.”

The [Grand Admiral] breaks out of his trance and turns around. “What?” he notices the situation. “Who is she?” Aegir asks, and then grimaces as he feels through his aura and finds intruders below deck. The feeling comes to him as clear as day, but for whatever reason, he’d completely ignored it.

Aegir places his hand on the hilt of his cutlass.“Who are you? What are you doing aboard my ship?”

The woman shakes her head and then focuses on Aegir first, and then Nickolas. She takes a cautious step back when she notes Nickolas, but does nothing else.

Seeing her silence, Aegir unsheathes his cutlass and steps forward, but Nickolas quickly raises a hand in front of the [Grand Admiral]. “Don't. She is far too dangerous for you.” Nickolas interrupts.

“I am a fairly capable fighter, especially on my own ship,” Aegir explains, but still allows Nickolas to step forward.

“I know you’re capable, but so is that woman. Risking your life when it’s my job to preserve it is needless and wasted.”

Aegir nods understandably. He steps away to give Nickolas some space to work, but still keeps his cutlass unsheathed and ready.

Nickolas walks towards the woman with a growing smile on his face and his hands behind his back. He can see the woman's class. He knows she is a level 226 [Scourge Abbess]. A very recently formed one. Powerful, deadly, but ultimately inexperienced and lacking in levels. Eventually, he stops when he senses the woman calling up her mana.

He chuckles, “Girl, I’ve never heard of a [Scourge Abbess] before, and I don't know which god gives such a class, nor do I care. I only hope that you entertain an old [Warmaster Abbot] for a bit.”

Nickolas calls up his own mana, swirling them in a maelstrom within his body. He spreads his arms apart and allows the maelstrom loose, “[Summon Greater Angel]: [Warform Type]”

Reality shudders several meters above the ship as a golden angel three times larger than the average angel forms into existence. Not just larger, for the four winged angel has six arms, two normal sized and four thicker and longer arms coming out of its back.

The arms hold no weapons, but are gauntleted and thickly armored.

The [Warmaster Abbot] grins at his most powerful summon. An angel made purely for war. A powerhouse that is directly below the strength of an Archangel.

With his summon ready, he looks at the woman expectantly. The [Abbot] and [Abbess] classes lack direct combat spells, but they make up for it with stronger summons.

______________________

Fiona, with baby in arms, exits the ship and arrives on the deck and stops when she finds Jessica grimacing into the air. She follows the woman's eyes and is met with a massive angel, and then takes a step back.

“Jessica, what is that?” she asks, but the [Abbess] continues to grimace.

Jessica glances at Fiona and shakes her head, “Get back into the ship. I’ll handle this.”

“But-”

“GO,” Jessica growls with a release of aura. Fiona quickly complies and re-enters the ship without a further word. The aura, Fiona notes, was not one of authority or fear. No, what she felt was Jessica’s way of dealing with pain. A way that involves pain, suffering, and a decent bit of anger.

_____________________

Jessica takes a deep breath, doing her best to control her emotions. Of all the classes that can be imparted, why did the goddess make her a [Scourge Abbess]? Does the goddess think she enjoys causing pain? She wants to heal and help… not harm.

“Young lady, if you are going to just stand there, then I will make the first mo-”

“SHUT UP!” she growls at the stupid old man, interupting him. “It’s your fault I’m like this.” she accuses, knowing deep down that he’s not at fault. Even so, the emotions she’s feeling right now need an outlet, and what better outlet than the man in front of her.

She raises her hand and releases her mana, “[Summon Greater Angel]: [Scourge Type]”

Above her, her mana leaves her body and opens the portal to Heaven. She feels a connection form as a normal sized four-winged angel comes into existence. The angel holds two spiked whips in her hands while several dozen more extend from the angel's back like tentacles. The sight of the angel makes Jessica even angrier. She can no longer create any other type of angel, not even the ones that could heal. Now, all she can do is make these ugly monstrosities of pain.

“Attack,” she angrily points.

_____________________________

Peeking out of the ship's entrance, Fiona watches an aerial battle of epic proportions taking place. One angel dodges through the air, whipping a much larger one that uses all of its arms to redirect or block most of the strikes. Not all, for when the whips make contact, the metallic body of the larger angel is scraped and damaged.

It would seem that the whipping angel is winning as it is able slow the larger ones movements with its attacks, but that all changed when one of the arms open and grab onto one of the whips. With a strong pulling motion, the larger angel pulls the smaller one within range. Without missing a beat, the angel ignores the whips and uses all of its hands to grab hold of the smaller angel.

Then it rips the angel's limbs apart.

Jessica falls to her knees while the old man smirks.

“Mistress, what is happening?” Naunet asks.

“I’m not sure… but I think Jessica might have lo- No. Jess, watch out!”

As Fiona yells in warning, Aegir rushes with cutlass unleashed. He jumps forward and swings at Jessica’s head.

But her warning goes unneeded as Jessica’s ring glows brightly. A pulse of energy explodes from around her, blowing everything away, including Aegir.

Then, after another second, an undead with blades for legs and arms comes into existence defensively around her.

“Aegir, careful. That thing is undead,” he frowns warily as he gazes at it, “and it is strong. Let my angel take care of it.” The old man warns.

Tisking in annoyance, Aegir rushes back behind the undead while the Angel descends from the sky before stopping to hover in the center between Jessica and the old man.

“Fine. Fine. Do you want me to use it? Because I will use it!” she warns the old man who just looks at her as though she’s lost her marbles.

Which, Fiona can't argue with, what with Jessica crying, smiling, and looking like she’s lost her mind.

The old man shakes his head, “It seems the loss of your angel has broken you. You are in denial of its destruction.”

“SHUT UP.”

The old man smirks, “So, instead of accepting the loss, you turn to anger.”

Jessica screams. A maddened, angry, high-pitched scream that lasts for several seconds.

When she finishes her scream, she wipes the tears off her face with her sleeve and then stands back up. Still angry, pissed, but the maddened look had disappeared.

“Fine,” she whispers. She raises her hands up in the air and calls up her mana.

“[Greater Creation: Elder Scourge Elemental]”

A torrent of mana leaves her, far more than she’d ever used before. So much so that it almost leaves her empty.

Almost.

Legendary skill: [Greater Creation], activated. Assimilating environmental material.

Material “Whips” lacking…

Skill [Sovereign of Scourge] activated. Creating temporary material.

From the heavens, the storming weather trembles as the magic takes place. A moment passes and it starts raining tens of thousands of spiked whips.

“Aegir, to me!” the [Abbot] warns. He raises a hand, “[Barrier].”

A translucent glowing barrier of coned energy forms above the [Abbot] and protects him from the rain of whips.

“How is this possible?” Aegir arrives under the dome.

“They are just creations of mana. Temporary constructs. They’ll disappear in a couple minutes.” Nickolas explains.

Aegir frowns, “Why does she need so many whips?” he asks, but the [Abbot] doesn't get to answer as the whips seem to come to life. Like snakes, they curl and move towards the [Abbess], quickly forming a growing mound around her.

Eventually, when the mound has grown to a third as large as the ship they are standing on, the mound takes shape into the form of a long snake that twirls around the ship. The snake's head hovers over the ship, directly above the [Abbess].

The woman lowers her hands. She gazes at her creation and grimaces. She shakes her head and then points at the floating angel.

Before Nickolas can even react, the monstrous snake attacks and latches onto his angel. The angel struggles, attacking the mass of whips, but it is quickly overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

The angel dies and Nickolas falls to his knees as his connection to the summon disappears.

“Master!,” Aegir panics. He reaches out and attempts to help the old man stand back up, but the old man has no energy nor will. He can only stare forward, at the horrid, writhing monstrosity hovering menacingly above them.