Chive speaks, "Arata, the fairy knights are under my control now. Yet they've lost all will to fight, please could you put them out of their misery?"
I see… It's the tea party all over again, I killed alraune, dryads and these knights but never a second did it occur to me what they used to be. They deserve it-
"No Chive, let's do them one better. Even if they can no longer fight, there's still room to give a parting shot against the Erlking." Arata ponders for a second.
"Have them do everything they can to pry open their armor, direct them to the throne room for Rachamah to eat. They're an insurance policy that the Erlking will die."
Arata ran off in the meantime to reunite with the other soldiers, optimal conditions restored and the fairy knights defeated.
In the commercial district, the scene was brutal, corpses of both sides piled high, all those who had been fighting were running low on steam and morale.
It was surely a dehumanizing experience to waltz over the corpses of friends to be next on the chopping block.
Alexander shouts, "Arata! What happened?"
"The fairy knights have all been defeated." Arata replies, noting that despite the metal helmet, somehow you could still see the smile deep into his expression.
"Everyone! The fairy knights are dead! Victory is within reach!" Alexander spreads the good news, the men are now reinvigorated. They had reached the eye of the storm, the dark, cloudy skies had failed to stop them.
Forming a strong line, the men managed to press forward, one alraune after another was cut down. The madness couldn't reach the men past Celine either.
Not even among the dead were there expressions of sadness or doubt. I guess it's now up to Rachamah. There's still a demon lord general to defeat… one?
Arata noticed the winds around him, they were weak, sure, it was the eye of the storm they were in after all.
Yet the eye of the storm shouldn't be confused for safety, not when a storm still surrounds them.
Arata lost track of the time. Somehow, the night has begun. It was a testament to how long they've been fighting.
With the moon, there's a sudden new gust. The forces of nature were reinvigorated in their quest to see the men who fought tonight dead.
The moon rises above the soldiers, a fresh new time to accompany the situation. Yet a new silhouette rises above the moon.
I guess it's time to see… was that month in Basin City well spent?
Wings patched up, a familiar hanging human smirk. An insectoid form carrying the person, Arata was speechless. Beelzebub made its return.
This time, something was different, humans had already humbled the creature once. Beelzebub wanted nothing to do with close quarters again.
Besides, Arata could tell by the way it carried itself that the injuries left by Rachamah still stung.
A proboscis flew its way down, not at a human soldier, but at the Erlking's own alraune.
Their mana and blood were both sucked dry. A husk was left, a husk soon to become faded. Meanwhile, the blood was spat right back out as a bomb of boiling blood.
Men cried out, incinerated by the spell. It was devastating, even if only their frontline, less than a thousand men, were incinerated.
Our plan has fallen apart… Beelzebub can fly, there's no way it can't meet back up with the Erlking. Rachamah will lose if it does, a thing as petty as Beelzebub wouldn't let such an opportunity pass him by-
"There you are Arata~! Where's that fucking domestic bird?" Beelzebub chuckles, hovering over his position, causing men to scatter to avoid the next strike.
Beelzebub is petty. Hopefully, this works. "Stealing the dog treats the Erlking feeds you."
The battlefield falls silent, not Morgan, not Celine, not Beelzebub himself expected such a turn of events. But why else would Beelzebub be here?
His hunch had landed. A red orb sped towards Arata. Sword in hand, Arata parried the strike right back, returning a bolt of fire, yet while Demiurge Foundry converted the mana into heat, Arata split the power absorbed with force, increasing its speed.
The bolt, in the blink of an eye, engulfed Beelzebub in return as the Lord of Flying Fiends shouts.
"Gah! You bastard I'll fuc-"
The voice is cut off. Beelzebub needed to shed its skin.
Shed skin, Beelzebub's gonna go behind me now. Arata turns, manifesting Cauterizer, behind him, a red-coated mandible had shaped itself in place of an arm.
"Kill you!" Beelzebub shouts, yet the sudden offensive threat causes him to duck back. Arata was both pissing off Beelzebub and now getting into the demon's head.
In silence, the creature retreated back up into the sky. There was nothing more to be said, the experience was thoroughly humiliating. Beelzebub would further use his proboscis from above.
Alraune were being picked off one by one, Arata knew exactly why as well. They would all rise back up as the faded. Luckily, before that, they could be killed by normal means. To turn to a faded was a gradual process and just because you became one didn't make you much stronger.
So why was Arata still shaking? His plan had so many hiccups yet they were thoroughly accounted for up until this point, it was the moon. It brought back bad memories and a promise that the fight would end the second Beelzebub got bored.
He needs to be taken out of the sky… Morgan? No. Archers? Not that either. Clemence can work but I need more options just in case.
Arata watches the battlefield, alraune pouring in, while in response, a light radiates off of her sword, cremating the flesh of her assailants.
"Celine, something's been bothering me. The light coming off your blade, from a regalia right?"
Celine panting nods, she has no breath in her to muster a response.
"It feels like its potential is being limited. You can't control a regalia whose will you fail to realize right?" Arata ponders, watching Beelzebub in the sky, moving where the bug's eyes trace as a deterrent to act.
Celine stutters, slightly humiliated, she answers, "My memories have been reinterpreted too many times. I don't remember what its will is."
Strange… if I recall correctly, the mechanics of Bloody Mary, to invoke its ability following the exact object's will, isn't required. As long as it's within the weapon's interests indirectly. Shouldn't a hero's role be one of those cases for a holy sword?
Arata couldn't figure that out right now. "Clemence, we'll aim to knock Beelzebub out of the sky, got it? Likely, he may recover too quickly from a single strike to reach melee range again. Is one charge still the maximum you can do?"
Arata was given a sign in response. That wouldn't work. Who else, the rest of the knights are melee fighters. The hero's party, they had that mage Elias I think? No that was the paladin, Ralph!
"Ralph? What spells do you have, faster long-range ones?" Arata shouts.
Ralph sighs, "Only a weak lightning shot. If Justice Bird could swat it away, it'll be useless here."
Arata looks back at the elves, "No, we'll make it work. Fire on my command, wind mages prepare to boost me up. Ralph, shoot at me."
All that was needed now was opportunity, to which Morgan decided to move on her own to give.