Sherry

Sherry was the one to make the first move.

She dashed forward, performing a horizontal slice towards the lamia, her dark aura extending the range considerably. All the while her hair swarmed around her, blocking any avenue for her escape.

Unfortunately for her, the lamia was all too ready for such an attack.

Her eye narrowed. And a split second later, her own hair came alive and parried every single hair that Sherry sent. As for the sword swing, she created a sword with her hair and blocked the attack with it, throwing the axe she used before away.

“W-what?! How can you—”

“I haven’t told you my ability yet, have I?”

Sherry retreated, dashing backwards to put some distance between them once again.

“Perfect Mimicry. I can mimic any moves my opponent uses and claim it as my own.”

“Perfect… Mimicry?” Sherry replied, looking at her with disbelief.

“That is my ability. The ability given to me by my mother—Echidna, the Demon Lord of Beasts.”

The lamia’s hair was now surrounding her, wiggling like snakes that were ready to pounce the moment Sherry made her move.

“I used the axe skill of a human before. Someone they said could cut down mountains with a single swing of his axe. I defeated him in using his own techniques. And I would do the same to you, Sherry Izurdia.”

Sherry gritted her teeth. How dare she stole other people’s techniques like that? She wasn’t even an Izurd! How could she make her hair move like that?!

“What’s the matter? If you’re not going to attack, I would.”

The lamia flew towards her, using her tail as a springboard. She bathed her sword in dark aura, the very same aura Sherry just used against her. And not only that, her hair all flew towards her as well.

“Really? Repeating my own move to me? Do you really think that would work?”

Of course it wouldn’t. After all, she had fought someone who used the technique even better than her.

Her grandmother.

She countered the long horizontal slice by absorbing the blow with her hair while using the sword to slice down her hair instead.

The exact opposite of the defense the lamia just used.

“Haaaaa!”

The lamia’s hair scattered into the four winds, lacking the strength needed to repel Sherry’s sword swing. The lamia’s sword on the other hand failed to make Sherry’s hair budge, even after creating a crater where the two objects clashed.

“You think I’ll lose to some cheap imitation?! Grandmother’s blows are far heavier and fiercer than you!”

Before the lamia could react, Sherry swung her sword downwards.

Cutting off her right arm.

Blood spewed everywhere as the lamia retreated. She gritted her teeth, reeling from the pain of her wound.

She had underestimated her. She was still holding back all this time, even after all the injuries she sustained. And she couldn’t mimic the full strength of an opponent if they didn’t go all out.

No, she wasn’t holding back. She was just… stronger.

The angrier an Izurd gets, the stronger they become. Only now she could appreciate the full extent of that axiom.

She was the worst possible opponent for her ability.

Sherry wasn’t finished. She dashed forward, fully intending to deal the finishing blow.

“Izurd Art! Life-Slicing—”

“Path of Shijima. Sword of Silence.”

A flash of purple flew through Sherry as she brought her blade down.

It cut her right arm off in a single instant.

For the first time in their fight, Sherry’s heart felt fear.

Her eyes widened in shock. She didn’t even have time to register the pain. Quickly, she retreated, far away from the lamia as she could.

W-what was that?!

I can’t … I didn’t see that attack!

The lamia panted, a large wound bleeding out from her stomach.

And on her right hand she held a single blade, dripping in blood.

It was the blade that had cut off Sherry’s arm.

Sherry swiftly wrapped her stump with her hair, stopping her blood loss. It didn’t matter. She could reattach her arm. Such was the regenerative prowess of the Izurd tribe. The important part was getting the arm back. That was why she immediately used her hair to snatch the decapitated body part (that still held her sword) and tied it together with the stump. Unfortunately, even with her regenerative capability, it would take days for her arm to fully connected again. Which meant that for the rest of this fight, she was forced to fight only with one arm.

“You should’ve used that technique earlier.” She then told the lamia. “Who did you get it from? That wasn’t some ordinary technique. Fess up, thief.” She glared at her coldly.

The lamia gritted her teeth. “That human.”

“That human?” Sherry raised her eyebrows. “What human?”

“That arrogant pink-haired human woman. The only human strong enough to defeat my Lord Balthazar.”

“…Wait? Who are you talking about exactly?”

“I despise it. I do not wish to use the technique of a woman who humiliated my Lord. But I have no choice. You’re the strongest opponent I’ve faced in a long time, Izurd.”

“…Thank you for the praise.” Sherry replied, not cracking even the slightest smile.

Still, the revelation that someone had defeated the Demon Lord before piqued Sherry’s curiosity. Just who could do such a thing? She said the culprit was a human…

“Unfortunately, this is the end for you. This technique is a technique of the next Legendary Hero. You have no chance whatsoever against it.”

“The next Legendary Hero? What do you mean by—”

Sherry never got to finish her sentence.

“Path to Shijima. Sword of Silence.”

The same technique. The same attack.

And yet, she still could not see the blade.

Why? Why couldn’t she see it? It couldn’t be that fast, could it?

No. It wasn’t so fast that she couldn’t see or react to it. It was just… silent, just like the name suggested.

She couldn’t see the tell of the lamia beginning her attack. And her voice speaking the name of the attack traversed the air too slowly for it to matter. And not only that, when the sword sent its aura flying towards her, she couldn’t sense it coming either. Compared to the onslaught of blows her grandmother trained her to block or Hugo’s swift jabs and thrusts, it was an entirely alien sword technique. How could one bring down their blade without emitting any desire to attack? It was as if the attack never existed until the very moment it hit her flesh.

“Gyaaahhhh!”

It was a vertical slice, forming a line from between her legs all the way up to the middle of her forehead.

If not for her wrapping herself up with her hair, she would’ve been bisected right then and there.

Sherry fell to her knees, blood pouring out of her wound. The hair that had protected her scattered all over, the sword slash cutting through them all like slicing through butter. Her clothes were torn apart on the front, showing off the bleeding wound the slice had created perfectly.

It was the perfect opportunity for the lamia to strike and finish her off.

Only, she didn't. The monster woman was content with panting and gasping for air, sweat drowning her entire body.

It was too much.

That technique---it drained too much of her stamina.

Even with her enhanced demonic biology and physique, designed to be able to perform any technique that she copied, she still couldn't do what that human did.

It was another reason why she despised using it. She was supposed to be the perfect specimen—a mutated lamia capable of copying any technique it saw. She could even grow legs if the technique involved kicking.

And yet, she couldn't do it. No matter how much she trained with it, she couldn't keep it from tiring herself like this after using it.

And then there was the problem of the sword she had to use with the technique. For some reason, every blade she used would shatter from a single use of said technique, even the mithril ones. She had to rely on a specialized blade created by Taran, where she had to store it inside her stomach since it would gain durability the longer it was encased in (stomach) acid. And every time she needed to use it she had to pierce her own abdomen to bring it out.

And it hurt like no tomorrow.

"Heh, what's the matter? Tired already? You really can't handle such a powerful technique, can you?"

The lamia looked up. She saw Sherry grinning at her, even when she was still crouching down on the floor with a pool of blood under her.

"Go on. Send me another one. I'll parry it properly this time around."

T-this girl... is she insane?! Look how much she's bleeding! And she has lost an arm too! Is this why the Izurds are so feared across the Demon Continent?!

I was naïve! I should've copied an incubus so I could assault her with her race's weakness!

Truthfully, even for a master of mimicry like her, there were some abilities that she simply refused to learn out of principle. And an incubus' sexual techniques were amongst them.  And that was for one reason and one reason only.

But I don't want to grow a p*nis down there!

As the lamia was consumed by her own thoughts, Sherry slowly stood back up She had covered her gash with her hair, along with all her naughty bits since her clothes were in tatters from the attack she just received.

Grr, now she’s standing up! Why can’t you just stay dead?!

“Fine! I’ll strike you down one more time!” The lamia declared. And this time around, I’ll use a different technique than before so she won’t be able to anticipate it in the slightest!

Her eye narrowed as she gripped her sword tightly, using both of her hands. She took a deep breath, concentrating on the image in her memory of her technique, and then swung her sword downwards after she lifted it over her head.

“Path to Asura! Sword of Demons!”

The blade screeched.

A murderous aura fired from the edge of the sword, reaching Sherry a split second before the sword wave did.

Sherry’s heart skipped a beat.

The attack that was coming at her—it was a completely different one.

Her body froze. Fear overwhelmed her brain. She no longer saw the sword wave coming towards her. She only saw a tsunami of blades threatening to swallow her whole. Or a massive dragon with its jaw open towards her.

Fear.

It was a sword of fear.

“Ha… hahahahahaha!”

Her eyes widened. Her lips curled into a confident, slightly crazed smile.

This attack... she could repel this attack! For it was just like her grandmother’s, filled with murderous aura that would make you faint if you weren’t brave enough to face it head-on!

“Haaaaa!”

She met the wave with her sword, dashing to greet it like an old friend.

“I… I did it! I repelled your strike!”

“Well done. You stood your ground. You didn’t flinch for a second. And you stroke with all your might. Did you do as I told you?”

“Yes! He’s right behind me after all! And I’ll protect him with my life!”

Her blade shattered in her hands. Unable to cope with the might of the sword slash, it returned back to her soft hair once more.

And yet, she succeeded. She destroyed the attack before it could destroy her.

Hugo… thank you… for making me strong…

The strongest Izurd is the one that loves her husband the most… And I love you like I never loved before…

With you behind me, there’s no enemy I cannot conquer!

Sherry dashed forward.

And swung her full-power fist to the lamia’s head.

Ending the fight in a single, gory blow.

⠀

Myrilla

“Wind Automatas! Come to my aid!”

The Nerthusian was now in quite the pickle.

The forest had turned alive and it was assaulting her from all sides.

All the work of the archfey, who hadn’t even bothered to show herself again. Instead, she just watched from the shadows as her subordinates did all the work.

Myrilla was now hovering in mid-air with two spells active at the same time: her Wind Boost spell and her Wind Automata spell. Multiple soldiers made out of miniature cyclones circled around her, guarding her from all the vines, branches, and leaves that were attacking her.

Tch, the attacks aren’t stopping. At this rate, I’ll run out of mana!

Melodious laughter rang in her ears. The voice of the archfey taunted her, telling her that she was never going to win in a thousand years.

“I wonder how long you will stand, my dear Nerthusian. Give up and let the green take you. I promise, I’ll give you all the love you desire… 💕”

Myrilla gritted her teeth. She had to do something soon or else she’d lose.

And here I thought I could buy more time… what a naïve and foolish assumption…

There was only one ticket she could use—the one ticket she wouldn’t dare to use in normal circumstances.

She had to assault the fairy’s mind, even at the risk of losing her own mind in the process.

She closed her eyes, focusing on the presence gnawing in her brain.

“Oh? Are you trying to dig into my mind? How courageous! You know how it’s like, inside the brain of a fey. Full of chaos and madness. How many of your kind have lost their minds trying to probe into ours?”

Myrilla ignored her taunt. She knew the risks. And it wasn’t like she was going that deep into her mind. She just wanted to induce a brain-melting headache on her.

And then, it began.

A rush of lights and sounds, of smells and sensations, all entering her mind like a flood.

She gritted her teeth even harder. Focus! She must not let her mind wander or she would be lost forever!

And then, she tripped.

A string of memory had caught her feet, dragging her down the memory lane.

⠀

A long, long time ago, there was a little fairy.

The fairy knew nothing and thought nothing about the world. She was content in living like the other fairies, frolicking amongst the leaves and flowers and trees.

However, nothing was eternal in the kingdom of feys. Eventually, as the seasons changed, the fairy began to change as well.

And before she knew it, she was amongst the strongest of all fairies.

One day, she met a man — a demon, wandering in from the outside.

Finding him terribly interesting, she played a prank on him. She made him lose his way. No matter where he went, his steps would return him to the forest.

It was her favorite prank. She found it awfully interesting that mortals could die just by staying in her forest a little bit longer than usual.

A day, a week, a year passed. And, to her surprise, unlike the others, he hadn’t lost his mind or taken his own life out of despair. He was still the same calm and collected demon he entered as.

And so, she appeared in front of him.

“Greetings, mortal! I am the ruler of this autumnal forest and the one responsible for you being stuck here!”

To her chagrin, he didn’t respond. He simply stared at her with that annoying and infuriating dead look on his face.

“Let’s make a bet, shall we! You want to go home, right? Then you have to find my throne! It’s the only way I’ll allow you to leave!”

Still no response. He just stared as her, as if fascinated by her presence.

“Then, I shall take my leave! Bye bye!”

Waving her hands with a smile, she disappeared.

Hee hee, there’s no way he can find my throne! It’s like finding one leaf in an entire forest! Impossible for a mortal like him!

⠀

Ten years.

Ten years was what it took for him to find her on her throne.

When he appeared and knelt before her, asking for her hand, she was speechless.

“Come with me, my beautiful flower. I will show you a world unimagined even by a fey like you.”

The contract she had forged bound her. She had no choice but to agree.

Not that she wouldn’t agree without it.

After all, ten years of watching him every single day — it was enough to make her fall for him.

And so, from that day forward, she became the fifth wife of the Demon Lord of Wisdom.

⠀

Myrilla retreated, pulling her mind away from the thread of memories wrapping it.

That was close… I almost lost myself in her memories.

Hmm, that memory… I can do this to make her mad…

…I hate doing this. Even if she’s an enemy, she doesn’t deserve to have her memories erased.

It’s her own fault. She links her mind to mine. She thinks she’s immune to my mind manipulation.

She’s not. You just have to be really good at it.

Just like that detestable woman…

“Hey, Mrs. Fairy. Kick me out of your forest at once or else I’ll erase your precious memories.”

No response.

“I know you’re there! Don’t pretend like you don’t hear me!”

Still silence.

“I’ll start from your first meeting with your husband. Let’s see how you like it.”

Without hesitation, she “attacked” the thread with her mind, pulling and twisting it into two.

“HOW DARE YOU!”

Immediately Myrilla heard a surge of vines all going towards her. Trusting in her automatas, she refused to open her eyes, concentrating all her efforts into shredding the memory apart.

“STOP IT! STOP IT!”

There was no stopping it. It was her only chance to win after all.

“Gah!”

Myrilla felt a vine wrapping around her left leg. Followed by her right arm. Then her left arm. Then her right leg.

Her automatas. They couldn’t keep up!

“STOP IT OR I’LL KILL YOU ON THE SPOT!”

Another vine wrapped around her stomach, squeezing it to the point she felt like she wanted to puke.

“No… you… release me… let me go… half of your memory… is already gone… must I … destroy… more?”

The fey desperately tried to decouple her mind from hers. Unfortunately, Myrilla wouldn’t let her. The mind of the forest was the fey's own mind. She couldn’t run from Myrilla’s range even if she wanted to.

A vine wrapped itself around Myrilla’s neck. She choked, feeling her windpipe slowly being crushed.

Just… just a little… a little more…

…

…

The connection broke.

She had failed.