Chapter 60: The Mage Overhauled into a Spearing Mantis Shrimp

Lilith moved first, sword in hand.

The White Dragon beat her wings; a pale god lifted skyward; a white sun-disc looked down, judging the Wraith with a spear.

A heartbeat later, the sun stooped like a hunting raptor; the pink blade, coiled with blood-red Taint like talons, slashed for Cris’s chest.

Cris swept her ghost-blue spear into Lilith’s sword, and felt its power leech away into her; steel-bright moments ago, the resilient shaft dimmed a shade in seconds.

Lilith gave her no time to think. When blade met lance, the Little White Dragon tensed, then drove a kick into Cris’s gut.

Cris took it head-on, granite-still. She stepped back half a pace, let the sword slide down the lance, then tapped Lilith with the haft like a temple bell.

The Taint coiled from Lilith and bound Cris’s spear, smothering the strike; the weapon dulled again at that touch. Cris dropped it without fuss, formed another from the air, and thrust for Lilith’s heart.

“Ice Wall!” cried the Little White Dragon, and a wall rose to meet the spear. The ghost-blue spear sank deep, but the wall’s thickness held; the thrust didn’t punch through.

Lilith kicked the pierced wall; the conjured ice toppled with a crack, crashing toward Cris like a falling glacier.

Tch. Annoyance pricked; Cris lifted her spear high, and pitch-black flames sheeted off her body, shaking the wall to pieces.

Blue and black fire raced over her ghost-blue armor. Wielding both Moonswallow Mist and Death Magic, Cris drew those flames onto her spear, then hurled the burning lance at Lilith.

The Little White Dragon chose to catch it with tentacles, but Lilith’s Taint-tentacles died where they touched. Ever-proliferating flesh tips bled to lifeless gray; regrowth came quick, yet for a heartbeat the Taint’s flesh was truly slain.

“Such high-purity Death Magic,” murmured the Little White Dragon. Finding the ink-black fire stubborn, Lilith slipped aside and let the flaming spear strike the floor. She kicked off; the tentacles behind punched into the tiles like grappling lines, hauling the Little White Dragon close to Cris.

Lilith swung the Ancient Ark; the pink sword finished charging, its pink-white light flickering, and slid into Cris’s body. Physical damage wouldn’t stick, but Lilith wasn’t relying on steel.

“Release!” Energy from the Ancient Ark erupted; the charged blade detonated inside Cris like a bomb, erasing half her body in a blink.

The Moonswallow Mist from the blasted parts was swallowed up by the Little White Dragon. Ghost-blue deepened across Lilith’s skin, until it was hard to tell which side served Eternal Life.

Against a normal foe, that strike would’ve ended the fight. But Lilith faced an undying Wraith today. Half a body gone was a lost arm at worst. Cris used Moonswallow Mist to grow a new lower half and layered it in thick armor.

So the armored sections can be touched by the material blade. Lilith hopped back; as she withdrew, she tapped Cris’s armor with her sword. Steel met substance, confirming her guess.

Breath steadied. The Wraith drove her spear into the ground and set the ghost-blue weapon aside. Black fire gathered at her hand, and Death-scented flames wrapped her arms, becoming two black-red streamers. They hung from her like battle standards, not weakening her presence, but patinating it with age—the look of an old soldier.

“The black of solitude is Death’s visage,” Cris whispered. A seam of black edge stitched itself along the ghost-blue spear, turning the weapon cruel.

“The gaze of fear is Death’s substance.” With that second spell, a pitch-black shield bloomed in her other hand. Shield on the left, spear on the right; she looked nothing like a mage now.

Wariness tightened Lilith’s chest. So she’s gone full heavy once she can be hit? That spear with a black edge could deal world-breaking harm. And my longsword might not pierce that defense.

“What a headache,” Lilith sighed. The Little White Dragon needed a fresh battle plan. First test if a charged Ancient Ark can crack Cris’s guard; if not, the whole strategy needs rewriting.

“Devour!” While Lilith was sketching her next move, the Wraith slammed her spear to the floor. Three black plumes burst like hunting hounds and rushed her.

The Little White Dragon snapped her blade across. The Ancient Ark took the block. Lilith rolled forward, closing the distance.

Not enough. Tentacles at her back hooked like claws; Taint-flesh snagged Cris’s shield and reeled Lilith in at a sprint.

Lilith raised her fully charged sword. The Ancient Ark bit at the black shield, leaving only a thin white scar like moon-scratch.

She struck, then withdrew at once, giving no opening. Seeing the blow do nothing, the Little White Dragon felt pressure stack like mountains and swallowed hard. Looks like the plan needs to change.