bigabreads The Flower of Death
The Flower of Death
Within the multi-layered barrier, the absolute hell that broke loose over the forest of Ky'lar followed no recognizable rule...(KRAAA-BOOOOOOOM—KRRRRRRRR...!!!!!!!!)
That had become a destructive clash of pure power in which the elements themselves attacked one another, tearing apart the surrounding space.
(SHRRRRRR-VROOOOM-KRRRR-SHHHHH!!!)
Through the cracked mud, thick streams of dense magma gushed with fury from the depths, carving their way through the broken earth only to collide head-on with bursts of mystical ice that appeared out of nowhere in the hot air.
(BRRUMMMSTOMP!!!!)
As a result, the elemental impact was so violent that the ground melted and froze within the very same fraction of a second, causing the rocks to explode into thousands of sharp fragments that shot out in all directions alongside dense and suffocating curtains of boiling vapor.
(PUFFFF-VRAAASHHHH!!)
In turn, far above, where the skies twisted in wild windstorms, the water poured down with the force of solid waterfalls.
(HSSSSSPLASH...!!!)
Because of that, that mass of torrential rain battered the shattered trees and doused the crests of fire...
(KABOOMMMCRUNCH!!!!)
But the very next instant, celestial lightning and uncontrollable flashes of static that crossed the clouds struck, electrifying the floods and turning the entire surrounding perimeter into a trap of blinding light and constant roar.
(ZRAAAAAAAKISH—BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM...!!!!!!!!)
And in the midst of that disaster, a dome of magical energy barely managed to stay standing, vibrating intermittently against the punishment of the environment.
"Hold and concentrate the formation!"
That dome was not designed for combat, but to act as a life-support shield; acting as a barrier that allowed them to breathe and maintain consciousness, preventing the unbearable existential pressure crushing the clearing from ultimately collapsing the lungs of those present.
(PLAS-TZZZZZZZZ...!!!!!!!!)
And leading the defensive formation, under the protection of the shield, the silhouette of a young woman with dark hair and a straight fringe above her eyebrows stood firm, with her hands extended forward.
"The water is trying to tear through the shield's fabric...!"
Her face, dusted with subtle freckles across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, was tense with strain, and her eyes gleamed with a cold, analytical sharpness that contrasted with the striking, ultra-tight pink leotard wrapping her figure.
"Focus more magical power... Do not get distracted...!!"
Around her, a circle of women concentrated on sustaining the vectors of the barrier, digging their knees into the wet mud while the outside wind currents violently battered the fabrics of their emergency garments.
(CLANK... PSHHH... CLANK...!)
But as the barrier cracked, at the exact center of that protected space, another figure remained kneeling in a posture of absolute devotion.
"We must persist!!"
That figure possessed the physical appearance of a student with a long, resplendent orange mane, with a figure of pronounced and voluptuous curves that seemed entirely alien to the rigidity of the situation.
"Remember... We have been entrusted to protect her in the name of the great mother...!!"
But at that moment, despite her words, her hands gently, devoid of any protection, trembled subtly due to the intrinsic fragility of the body she controlled and was only beginning to understand.
(Ssssshhhhhiiiiiiiiiuuuuuuuu...)
However, despite that and ignoring the discomfort of the tight outfit and the dissonance of her current flesh, Clotilda concentrated all her energy into her arms...
"... Aaah... Ughhhhh..."
For holding her carefully against her chest, she supported Flora's extremely weakened body.
(CRRR-CRAAA-CRAAACK...!!!)
Nonetheless, despite that, the tiny Flower Spirit Princess barely emitted a pulse.
"Is there anyone who can make use of healing magic?!"
The enormous void left in her chest after the initial impalement continued to drain her existence...
"... I'm sorry... I lost my ability to use holy magic after being reborn..."
"... The same for me."
"I know some basic healing magic!"
From the edges of the wound, thin filaments of phosphorescent green light and wisps of withered petals continued to escape, dissolving into the air like ash.
"Any support is enough, she needs treatment now!!"
Because of that, with gritted teeth and her forehead almost touching the earth, Clotilda channeled a continuous flow of pure healing magic directly over the rift, using her own power as a mystical plug to slow down the creature's leak of elemental essence while she called out for help.
"Oh, mana that sleeps within the roots of the world, awaken and pour your torrent of life! Return what time has stolen... [PRIMORDIAL RESTORATION]!"
"Let the energy dispersed in the air concentrate into an unbreakable dome, intertwining the vital forces of the fallen to halt the advance of death upon this soil... [MIRACLE OF THE LUNAR SANCTUARY]!"
As a result, at Clotilda's signal, a small group of women broke away from the outer formation.
"Mana gathered in my palms, seal the skin and stop the torrent of blood... [LESSER CURE]!"
"Internal mana, stabilize the weakened pulse and halt the body's collapse... [RAPID RECOVERY]!"
They were barely the minority capable of mastering the arts of restitution—those whose functions were not vital to sustaining the structure of the great protective dome.
"... It seems to be working... Don't stop!"
Among them, a young woman with the appearance of a shy, short student, whose tight nurse uniform was stained with mud, knelt on the opposite side, extending her trembling hands.
"You heard her, keep going!!"
Beside her, a mature woman wearing an elastic micro-bikini joined her palms, setting aside any trace of her previous wildness to focus a severe and protective gaze upon the makeshift bed.
(UMMMMMMMMM—SHHHHHHHHH!!!!!)
Thanks to that, the glow of the healing magic intensified in unison, intertwining threads of white and bluish light that enveloped Clotilda's hands.
"Even if we cannot use healing magic, we can still give our mana!!"
Together, combining their mystical flows, they created a dense network of energy that acted as a spiritual bandage around Flora's chest, forcefully sealing the leakage points where the green filaments and withered petals continued to break away.
(FSHHHCRUNCHRRR~!!!!)
However, the external pressure caused the mana to fluctuate violently, but the group of healers firmly maintained the connection, stabilizing the tiny creature's core to prevent its final dispersion into the void.
(¡¡¡................!!!)
But, at the epicenter of that desperate effort, Flora's perception began to fracture.
"¡... Haaah... Haaa... Haa...!"
For the tiny Spirit Princess, the deafening roar of the end of the world began to lose its sharpness, transforming into a dull, distant echo.
(... Mother... Everyone...)
The sharp pain of the impalement in her chest no longer felt like a physical wound, but like a cold tide that numbed her limbs.
(... This... is... wrong...)
Her eyes, fixed on the corrupt sky, began to perceive the environment in a disconcerting slow motion.
(¡...Fwuuu... fwooo... fwooo...!)
To her eyes, the violent lightning that before had torn through the firmament in a blink now traced itself in the air like luminous roots extending with an agonizing slowness, branching out millimeter by millimeter among the ash clouds.
(... Everything is... so slow...)
At that moment, Flora could see the individual drops suspended in space, floating like static crystal beads before being struck by the shockwaves.
(... Warm... But... also cold...)
At ground level, the dense and viscous magma from the terrestrial fissures advanced with the heaviness of thick paint, its gas bubbles rising and bursting in a leisurely, endless dance.
(Ssssshhhhhiiiiiiiiiuuuuuuuu...)
And even the anguished faces of Clotilda and the healers surrounding her became static.
(... Flora doesn't understand... What is... happening to me...?)
Flora could see the tears of frustration and the sweat rolling down the former knight's cheeks at an almost imperceptible speed, while the women's lips moved, dragging out the healing mantras in an incomprehensible murmur.
(... Hey... Do you know what is happening to Flora...?)
At that moment, her own thoughts began to blur like ink in water, detaching from the textured reality of the clearing to submerge into a silent, gravity-free penumbra.
"......"
And in that suspended limbo, in front of Flora, silhouetted against the absolute nothingness of that blurred space, an immense silhouette began to materialize.
(¡...Clack... clack...!)
In this way, the silhouette, with its skull of polished, whitish bone, looked down upon the little one.