To the chagrin of billions across the Little Garden, the unfastening of Musashi’s top did not result in her ostensibly perfect breasts being exposed for all to see. Instead, two tiny, cartoon-like caricatures of a man with dark brown hair and vibrant, aquamarine eyes appeared to cover her nipples. Adding to the crowd’s indignation, the caricatures were waggling their fingers in a chiding gesture.
While countless people were cursing Vahn, Musashi completely ignored her wardrobe malfunction as she charged towards the befuddled Kojiro. The Law of Modesty only affected the view of people outside the Game Board. As a result, while others thought she was baring it all, he was privy to the fact Musashi had used star-shaped stickers to preemptively cover her nipples…
“Tsu-Tsubame Gaeshi…!”
Half-fumbling his own words, Kojiro’s body appeared to split into countless iterations of himself, each cleaving towards Musashi. From the perspective of the spectators, the paths of the countless blade seemed to block every possible angle. In the eyes of Musashi, otherwise imperceptible flaws appeared in the technique, her Empyrean Eyes glistening like indescribably beautiful paintings as the lesser, more flawed versions of Kojiro simply disappeared.
Faster than even the most diminutive measurement of time, Musashi and Kojiro appeared to pass through each other in an instant. Immediately thereafter, the crowd was stunned to see Musashi standing with a distant look on her face, countless red lines covering every exposed section of her body. The scene gave off the impression that even a slight breeze would cause her body to fall to pieces. Instead, she, very slowly, almost mechanically adopted a relaxed posture before turning her head to stare at Kojiro.
Unlike Musashi, Kojiro had a single, glowing blue line bisecting him from crown to crotch. He was currently stuck in the position of a downward strike, eyes wide open as he willed even the blood in his veins to temporarily stop their flow. He knew that any movement, even the beating of his own heart, would lead to his body being split in two.
Unfortunately for Kojiro, Musashi had bigger fish to fry at the moment. Thus, after silently observing the youth’s rather heroic figure for several seconds, a wakizashi with a pink, sakura-patterned tsuba appeared in her left hand as she said, “See ya around, Koji.”
Adopting a smile of his own, the blue line dividing Kojiro’s body vanished as a single, vibrant pink sakura petal fell onto his shoulder…
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Ducking under a blade whose edge was nearly as thick as her wrist, Chronoa stepped closer to her attacker before releasing a solidified sphere of ki into his stomach. At the exact same moment, her form appeared to flicker as a series of abyssal-black daggers sliced through her neck and body.
With her attack against Prurmubhi serving as the catalyst, Chronoa soon found herself facing off against all three of the ashen-skinned Rakshasa. In spite of this, a smile had developed across her face, as, even three-against-one, she was supremely confident in her chances of victory.
Demonstrating one of the reasons for this, Chronoa simply ignored the massive black beam fired at her by Prurmubhi. The vulpine woman appeared to be the group’s spellcaster/mage. Unfortunately, at least for the trio, her specialties appeared to be Death and Time Magic, two forces Chronoa had absolute immunity against.
Seeing Chronoa, once again, ignoring her attack, the smile adorning Prurmubhi’s face no longer reached her somewhat eerie, red, and gold eyes. She wasn’t going to stop trying, but, after seeing Chronoa shrug off a series of curses that were specifically designed to debilitate Gods and Asuras, she couldn’t help thinking something was amiss.
What Prurmubhi didn’t know was that Vahn had outfitted everyone in the Sage Dragon’s Hearth, even the immortal and timeless Angels, with artifacts and accessories that counteracted the vast majority of negative status effects. This included the majority of curses and abilities that inflicted instant death, so, even if Chronoa hadn’t possessed a natural resistance against Time and Death, most of Prurmubhi’s spells wouldn’t have affected her.
The greatest threats to Chronoa at the present moment were Uvashu’s seemingly limitless strength and Avhu’s apparent ability to siphon the speed of her opponent. At first, Chronoa had thought the slug-like woman was simply becoming faster and more ruthless. It was only when Uvashu’s slow yet monstrously powerful attacks became harder to dodge that she realized the truth of the matter.
As far as Chronoa could tell, Prurmubhi possessed little to no physical strength. Instead, she was capable of producing a functionally infinite amount of magical energy to devastate the majority of opponents. Inversely, Uvashu appeared to possess absolutely no affinity with magic. He relied on raw, unadulterated strength to overwhelm his foes, and, based on the steam that would rise from his body whenever he sustained even a mild injury, he possessed a potent form of regeneration.
Though the brother and sister duo would have been troublesome enough on their own, it was the ability of Avhu that was giving Chronoa the most difficulty. Avhu didn’t even need to land a blow in order to siphon her opponent’s speed. Based on what Chronoa had been able to deduce, the effect was achieved by simply staring in the direction of her foe.
To make matters worse, Chronoa’s speed wouldn’t recuperate even when she reversed the flow of Time. In other words, the longer the battle dragged on, the slower she would become.
Fortunately, as troublesome as Avhu’s ability was, Chronoa could generate a field to accelerate her personal flow of time. She had also confirmed that the trio wasn’t vulnerable to magic, so, as one of the greatest Mages in her verse, the only thing preventing Chronoa from ending the battle was her desire to learn more about the characteristics of the Rakshasa Tribe.
As a Kai that had lived well over one-hundred-million years, most of which was spent observing the lives of people in the lower realms, Chronoa’s curiosity could even give Da Vinci and Vahn a run for their money.
Annoyed by the casual expression on Chronoa’s face, Avhu bared her muted-white, razor-sharp teeth towards the pink-skinned Kai. The black spikes protruding from the sleeves and back of her thick white hoodie began to wriggle and elongate, but, before she could do anything, the various belts enveloping her body promptly contracting, tightening around her comparably petite frame. This included the choker around her neck, so, instead of charging forward, Avhu fell face-first into the ground as Prurmubhi stated, “That’s enough. We’re going to withdraw.”
While others might have protested such ignominious treatment, Avhu continued to stare directly at Chronoa even as Uvashu picked up her tightly bound, audibly creaking body and tucked her under his arm. This caused a frown to develop across Chronoa’s face, but, as the dynamic between the trio had nothing to do with her, she elected to remain silent as the trio regrouped and cautiously made their way towards the nearest teleportation nexus. Her mission was to protect Seraphina and ensure the procurement of the defensive satellite, so, while she was more than a little interested in learning more about the ashen-skinned species, Chronoa made no attempt to inhibit the trio’s departure…
“And just when I starting to get excited…how annoying…”
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Though Chronoa believed the trio’s departure was related to the realization they couldn’t defeat her, the truth of the matter was quite a bit different from expectations.
By diverting forces to nearly every destination listed within the teleportation nexus, the Rakshasa Tribe, the de facto foot soldiers of the Trāyastriṃśa Community, quickly located their target. As a result, the Queen of the Rakshasa Tribe, Ahirani, sent a telepathic message commanding her sons and daughters to assemble.
One of the reasons the Rakshasa Tribe introduced themselves along with the name of their fathers was because they each shared the same mother. They were similar to ants in that regard, so, ever since her sisters were wiped out during the Great War, Ahirani had endured the burden of her entire species on her own. Other Rakshasa were capable of siring and giving birth to children of their own, but, instead of Rakshasa, the end result were red and blue-skinned demons known as Tieflings.
As ‘compensation’ for her species’ sacrifice, Ahirani had been granted an incommutable Divinity that ensured she would be reborn even if her mind, body, and spirit were destroyed. She wasn’t a True God, but, so long as a single member of her species remained, the Rakshasa would be reborn time, and time again…
Standing precisely 108m tall in her true form, Ahirani resembled a frightful yet uncannily beautiful woman with ashen skin, numerous, branch-like horns, six arms, and white hair that flowed gracefully past her ankles. At a glance, she appeared to be completely naked, but, while she possessed all the contours of a shapely and attractive woman, her mons and breasts were as smooth and baren as a porcelain doll.
Orbiting around Ahirani’s body were two amorphous, ghost-like creatures with six atrophied limbs and a trio of eerie, black, and red eyes. Said eyes would move around the bodies of the creature as if it didn’t possess a single bone in its body. It was a rather unnerving sight to behold, as, much like a Mangekyou Sharingan, the creatures possessed strange, revolving patterns that constantly shifted within their crimson-red eyes.
Using their Queen as a waypoint, dozens, soon to become hundreds of Rakshasa began to appear on the surface of the planet they were preparing to attack. Most of these new arrivals immediately prostrated themselves upon reaching the area beneath their Queen and Mother. The only people daring enough to approach her in the sky were a handful of extremely diverse-looking individuals, the Eight Great Kings who ruled over their species.
As the first eight of Ahirani’s children, the Eight Great Kings were the sons of various heroes and Hindu Gods. Among the Eight, the eldest, also known as the Great King of Wisdom, Attutyaptish, was the only one to approach Ahirani directly. The ghost-like creatures orbiting her body would attack anyone else, so, while he was actually the smallest and weakest of the Eight Great Kings, his form resembling a vaguely humanoid cat with six arms and three tails, Attutyaptish’s authority was second only to Ahirani’s herself.
At a meager 110cm in height, Attutyaptish wasn’t even the size of Ahirani’s toe in her true form. In spite of this, he fearlessly approached the giantess’s mouth, hands cupped in a respectful manner as he lowered his head and stated, “We eagerly await your orders, oh Great Mother…”
Though she was typically expressionless, a faint smile developed across Ahirani’s face as her large, crimson-red eyes focused on Attutyaptish. The truth of the matter was that she only allowed the petite cat-man to approach her because she thought he was cute. He was also the first child she had sired in the wake of the Great War, so, while the other Great Kings weren’t particularly fond of their eldest brother, Ahirani cherished him dearly.
Resisting the urge to shrink down to a form that would have allowed her to embrace and caress the comparably petite feline, Ahirani telepathically replied, (“Lord Indra has stated that the Sage Dragon is not to be underestimated. Once the remainder of my children have gathered, we will demolish all but a single teleportation nexus. After that, I will lead those specializing in magic to prepare a ritual magic circle while our warriors invade the planet’s inner sanctum. Vamashir, Agnosh, and Kili will be leading the charge.”)
Nodding his head in affirmation, Attutyaptish darted towards his much larger brothers to pass on his mother’s words. This earned him the stink eye from all but one of them, but, as he was already quite used to being resented by his siblings, Attutyaptish adopted an unapologetically cheeky smile as he ordered them to make preparations for the coming battle…
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(A/N: Alternate Titles: ‘Omae wa…’,’Chronoa got clam-jammed…’,’Great King of Wisdom? Seems like an opportunistic troll to me…’)
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