"Fides Feles!" The flash of arcane glyphs called forth spectral feline apparitions that weaved their way through the battlefield, diverting the attention of a few of the strange angels before being destroyed in one fell strike. The fighting was growing fierce, as the incoming ranks of angels seemed endless. No matter how many were cut down, more continued to advance. Even taking one blow was a great risk, as the slightest break in her onslaught would result in a swift and terrible death. Those who opposed the goddess of light and strength were not few in number, yet their count paled in comparison to the waves of winged warriors that resisted their efforts to reach the summit. They fought an enemy who had no fear and likely felt no pain, driven by the single desire to eliminate those who desired to bring down the statue which enforced perpetual daylight. Before they attacked, these silent soldiers stood motionless in place. But once someone raised a hand to deal a wounding blow, all of them moved as one to suppress and eradicate their enemy. How frightening it was. It was almost as if they were like draugr, only weakened by anything save for holy magic. Their resilience was outstanding, their counterattack without hesitation. And if it were not for the orb she carried, would she even have a chance in besting them?

A burning swing with her scythe cleaved a few angels in two, their bodies falling to the ground as her ring of souls captured their essence. It would seem that they too had souls, otherwise she would have run out of power long ago. The endless supply of outsider angels was the only reason why the spellsword managed to avoid falling prey to exhaustion, at the risk of being overwhelmed by the horde. There would be no rest until she reached the top of the highest mountain, until she had fulfilled the very reason she had gone to Mandhari for the orb of darkness. "Pneuma!" A blast of air sent her flying upward, to which she took the opportunity to prepare a large-scale set of glyphs mid-flight. With a resounding voice, a magic circle resonated as a triad of glyphs were activated in unison. "Procella!" With a small area in her line of sight on the ground, a sudden gale storm erupted, picking up stones and surrounding debris to batter the angels within its borders. When that alone was not enough, she cast another spell while the concentrated dust devil was still active. "Vol Ignis!" A torrent of flame directed at the turbulence while she descended turned the area into a scorching whirlwind–incinerating the already weakened angels. 

A small flood of souls rushed into her anima ring, but this battle was far from over. More angels were already taking the place of those that were killed, and were waiting for her to land. This was a siege on a personal front, an extreme test of endurance. In the face of a tireless, endless enemy your heart had to remain strong. She must never falter, for the moment she did–it would be her last.

On the battlefield, many women flitted through the carnage like shadows, striking down any angels that got in their way. Unlike those who confronted the winged beings, their purpose was to continue their progression forward instead of winning battles. The assassins of the House of Flowers were spread out to prevent their numbers from being easily eliminated, however if one of their sisters were in trouble those closest would quickly aid them and then move on. When cornered, every one of them fought fiercely. Too many of their own had suffered when night failed to come, and the branches of the House of Flowers were in mourning as at least one of their sisters had been lost when crusaders came hunting. While they were no stranger to death, these deaths were too sudden–without warning. Dear friends, mothers, and sisters had died while the rest had to pick up the pieces.

Weeks ahead, she had received an urgent letter from Madari, who ran a tea house in Jayou. It asked for her to come a specific place in the city at a certain time, for reasons she could not disclose in writing. Taking the necessary precautions, Seo-hyang had arrived early and the summons indeed was from her old friend. Madari was in disguise, pretending to be an elderly spinster with a shawl. The woman was skilled when it came to altering one's appearance without the use of magic, and it was that talent of hers which earned her the position as an instructor for the new recruits. Her face was grim, and she told Seo-hyang that she was in hiding. A fortnight ago, one of her girls was killed by strangers. The girl was Armeria, a rather young vampire who had been rescued from being a slave to some wealthy old man. The slave traders had taken advantage of the fact she was still a novice in her new identity, and kept her on a leash using her basic need for blood. Madari received her from the main branch a year ago, and began training the fledgling in using her newfound abilities to perform jobs as an assassin. Armeria was a quick study, and soon had developed enough self-control to not lose herself at the sight or scent of blood. She could also control her feeding to where she could drink from a victim without killing them.

Madari had been the unfortunate witness to the poor girl's final death, having heard her screams from an alley. Following the familiar sound, she recognized Armeria's clothes and form moments before a blinding flash of light enveloped the area and the vampire's screams were abruptly cut short. Hiding in the shadows, Madari saw a small band of armed individuals leave, with her understudy's mutilated corpse left crumbling into ash. There was a sharp wooden peg lodged in what was left of Armeria's body. Later Madari identified it as a piece of aspen. After reporting this to the House of Flowers' headquarters, she soon learned that this was no isolated incident. Many other assassins within the House had been attacked or killed, regardless of their level of experience. There was a deeply unsettling pattern in the list of victims. And now, all members–retired or active were being called to join in the House of Flowers' summons under Lady Calinaga. The directive: all able-bodied assassins who were not placed into protective custody were to go to Mandhari in Onnen immediately, obtain an orb, and then head to the Welayta mountains west of the location. 

Seo-hyang's urumi sliced through and tore apart angels before they could get close, her weapon allowing her to maintain a short distance around her free of enemies. Within sight was one of Madari's own, an Abedi necromancer named Kamala. Her summoned spirits cleared the way for their master, and they were making good progress. However, that all changed when the Anointed entered the fray. Blasts of holy light destroyed one of Kamala's wraiths in a hissing flash, and two armed clerics were heading straight for her. Quickly slipping away from the swarm of angels, the serpent went to lend her support. The two Anointed wore heavy armor, likely to deter vampires and undead. Her urumi wouldn't be able to cut through, but she had a way to disable those who believed they were protected. It was a great risk, especially with Kamala there. But Seo-hyang had no choice. Using sanguine threads, lines of crimson appeared between the three, and there were cries of agony from the two fighters. Kamala saw her, and understood. She did her best to stay strong, after all some rites of necromancy involved pain. 

In a flash Seo-hyang was behind the male cleric, her body wrapping around him as she transformed. His companion looked on in horror as Kamala approached with a sacrificial dagger in hand. Kamala pulled off as much armor as she could, cutting the leather straps holding the armored plates. Then she stabbed the cleric in an enraged frenzy, screaming at him. "THIS IS ALL BECAUSE OF YOU! YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED MY SISTER–YOU BLOODTHIRSTY DOGS! AFTER ALL SHE WENT THROUGH, AFTER BEING FREED! YOU BURNT HER ALIVE AND DEFILED HER CORPSE! Now…NOW ALL THAT'S LEFT OF HER IS ASHES!" Watching on sadly, Seo-hyang and the man in her clutches saw the necromancer wail with grief as she dealt a final blow. The male cleric tried to struggle, but the coils of the serpent's body tightened until he couldn't breathe. "Please forgive Kamala, she's grieving for one of her friends who was killed by one of you. They were like sisters, and Kamala loved her so. To her, we are her family. She too was sold as a slave by her father's wife while her younger brother was taken away to be the heir. She was born to a concubine, you see. The first wife had only given birth to girls. Abed is a patriarchal society and only sons inherit. But I'm afraid I've wasted my breath telling you this, as soon you will no longer be able to comprehend." 

The black coils of the serpent's body released his lifeless corpse, and it fell to the ground. Shifting back into her human form, she went to the weeping necromancer's side. "Come, we must go." The shouts of more Anointed were heading their way. 

The sounds of shrill screams drew her attention, and the raven-haired spellsword saw a pair of women flanked by individuals brandishing weapons and staves. Those must be the Anointed fighters she had heard about, and while the two were fending off a warrior and mage, Ardea noticed an archer behind cover several meters back. Casting a teleportation spell, she was within attack range of the man–whose last moments were spent swiveling his bow and arrow at her only to be blasted by a biting, icy wind. He was surprisingly resilient for wearing light armor, likely due to some sort of magical warding placed on his person which was eroded away with enough application of magic. As the frost took him, suddenly he began to stir again. Moving back to avoid being grabbed by the now-revived archer, her mind was in confusion until she noticed someone casting spells out of the corner of her eye. A cleric, no doubt. By the robes, this one possessed arcane talent if they were so confident to avoid wearing heavier armor. As long as someone was nearby to support the fighters, there would be no end to this. Drawing a glyph quickly before the mage could counter her, the spellsword teleported again to a point of cover. If she attempted to confront the cleric she could face an attack from behind, but if she didn't neutralize them soon–she and the other women would be overwhelmed.

The only way she could buy time to get close was if she had something else on the field to draw away the attention. Or maybe… Another idea crossed her mind, one that was much more direct and could eliminate the need to close the distance altogether. She began to trace a new set of glyphs, ones that made a chill go down her spine as she did so. With a resonant voice, Ardea cast a forbidden summon–one that she remembered from what little fragments of memory Alexander had preserved with his very soul. "Porta Abyssi!" The ground beneath the cleric caster began to quake as something began to take hold. One of the two warriors who were engaging the two other women sensed something was wrong, and ran to the mage's aid. When the platemail-clad woman was a few meters away from the robed cleric, eldritch tendrils erupted from the ground, enveloping both Anointed and nearby angels with a horrendous mass of writhing tendrils. Bloodcurdling screams were heard before they were muffled by an ungodly sound that invoked a deep-seated horror and revulsion at the mere sight of what had partially come through into the material plane. These black tendrils wasted no time in peppering the immediate area with fire, ice, wind, earth, and lightning attacks at the angels and fighters rallied in the goddess' name. While her plan had worked far better than she anticipated, it had drained a great deal of her magic power, which was soon gradually replenished when souls were released from their bodies into the air and straight into her ring.

Assured that the healing cleric was gone for good, she turned to pursue the revived bowman and laid him to rest a second time with a torrent of lightning. In the ensuing chaos caused by her abyssal summons, Ardea approached the two women who finally bested the second armored warrior who had been left behind. Holding up her orb of darkness, she showed them that she was an ally. "Are you two alright? We must hurry before more of those troops arrive. They weren't on the battlefield when the fighting started, and they seem as resilient if not more than these angelic entities."  

The battle had grown more intense once the Anointed were on the battlefield. Unlike the angels, they worked in groups with excellent coordination. As assassins, Seo-hyang and Kamala weren't used to handling so many targets in direct confrontation, especially ones who were well-prepared. Their strategy had always been to wait and bide their time, or to act once the opportunity revealed itself. There was none of that here. With enemies who possessed magic that countered theirs and no places to hide, it was a war of attrition. Two armed fighters blessed by divine protection forced the two women back to back, and they both feared that this would be their last stand. That was until an unsettling feeling entered the atmosphere, and they witnessed something far more powerful than Kamala's strongest undead decimate countless angels and two of the Anointed who had been backing them into a corner. They wasted no time and took the initiative–Seo-hyang disabling the remaining fighter with blood magic while Kamala placed a hex. Although the necromancer would have preferred to use the fighter's corpse as a mobile shield, having them return resurrected would be disastrous. She tore out the woman's heart and destroyed it.

Another woman with dark hair ran towards them, and while they tensed, ready for another fight–the stranger showed them an orb that looked just like theirs. Both assassins were relieved to find an ally in the chaos, and the woman urged them to hurry with her to their collective goal–the angel statue at the top. "Yes, we are alright. Though if it weren't for your help, we would have fallen without a doubt. It seems that the goddess has sent her elites to deal with those opposed to her revolution. This will be an uphill battle along with the endless angels flooding the mountain. My name is Seo-hyang, and this is my sister in battle–Kamala."

"I am Ardea Rosenheim. It is my pleasure to be acquainted with you two. Let us go together; I will cover for you from the front should we encounter more well-armored units." They were all in agreement, and made haste to cover more ground. However the higher they would ascend, the more dangerous the journey would become. In addition to the angels and Anointed, the altitude would be most daunting. The air would continue to thin as they ascended, making the risk of losing one's breath more dire. "Although we must ascend as quickly as we can, rushing in would lead to us suffering from altitude sickness. If we wish to offset the thinning air, we will be forced to slow our steps." The serpent voiced her concerns as they ran. "What could we possibly do then? If we slow down the enemies will surely overtake us." It was a confounding obstacle which couldn't be solved so simply. Then Ardea spoke. "I can manipulate the winds around us so we will be able to breathe, however we will need to raise our guard against a sudden ambush as I will be preoccupied." It was a solution, incomplete but the best they had. "That will not be an issue for us. We will support you from both sides as you maintain your focus." 

With three people instead of two, they were stronger than before. Once they started to feel the effects of the altitude, Ardea began tracing symbols in the air to create an arcane wind buffer around them. Kamala summoned countless wraiths and lesser spirits to act as decoys. If any of them started to attack or were destroyed, it would alert her to any threats. And Seo-hyang had her urumi prepared to make the first strike if something or someone broke through the necromancer's defenses. Both the assassins would strike down any angels that came close, giving the scythe wielder a constant stream of souls to fuel the air barrier. They would conserve their own magic as much as necessary, as they must not run out before they reached their final destination.