The spear spun around her hands in a dance-like motion. Each slash was smooth and rhythmic, like a beautiful choreography. Together, with the flow of the dress as it fluttered in the air and delicacy of her movements, it was easy to forget a single slice carried the potential to kill.

Even now, amidst the beautiful dance, the head of her spear thirst for the blood of her opponent. It aimed forward, its eyes locked on the target, as if having a mind of its own.

They approached, dagger in hand. Their speed was impeccable, their movements agile, and their pattern ever-shifting, making them impossible to predict. Despite that, the shortness of their weapon meant they had to get up close just to attack. Against a spear, they were clearly at a disadvantage.

When they had first ambushed the two girls at the old ruins, they had the element of surprise. But after having their attack blocked, then being chased to this quarry where the vertical walls cut off their escape, they had lost any advantage they originally had.

With nowhere to run and faced with an impossible match, they poured everything into their next attack, mind, body, and soul. Their blade glowed a bright red, as it burned with the ember of their undying will.

It was a magic skill that converted willpower into fire. If they could just get close enough, the mere intensity of the flame would be enough to burn their opponent, even without making contact. But if they could make contact, if they could just break skin, flames would burn their opponent from the inside out.

They lined themselves up perfectly. Coming in from under, their body safe from the spear that swung overhead. Their blade already locked onto the spot it would tear through.

But then they shifted, sliding off to the side, losing their opening. It was a move done by instinct, independent of consciousness. Their body had realized it before even their mind had. The large blade that had come bearing down where their head had just been.

The spear that was flying overhead, had, in an instant, become a claymore. What was it, that strange weapon of their opponent, that had managed to change its form at their wielder’s will? The mere thought of the endless possibilities of such a weapon made them lose heart.

The match had gone from impossible, to an exercise in futility. It was suicide to keep fighting. Even someone with a death wish would agree, it was time to turn tail and run.

It wasn’t like the walls were at a perfect ninety-degree angle. They were rough and uneven. There had to be a way, surely.

They pulled back, creating distance between them. When their opponent had wielded the spear, she had chosen to remain in place, letting them come to her. But now that she brandished a claymore, her stance would surely change. It was over if she went on the offensive.

They reached for the pouch on their belt. At the end of the day, they were just a scout. For situations like this, they had not been trained to fight. Instead, they pulled two vials from out the pouch. Before their opponent could react, they threw both vials, one at their opponent and one at the girl who had stood safely to the side as her companion fought.

The vials exploded as they hit the ground, causing two large clouds of smoke to form. Amidst the smoke and chaos, they used the opportunity to escape.

By the time the smoke had cleared, they were already halfway up an uneven section of the quarry.

Without saying a word, the girl raised her claymore over her head. Aiming its tip at her target, the metal of the sword began to liquefy, as its properties shifted. It became a lance, similar to the spear, yet more intricate in its design. Its shape was designed for a single purpose.

In a swift motion, with such force and speed, the lance was sent launching forward. It tore through the air, leaving behind a booming echo in its wake. In an instant, it had already reached its target. It dug itself into the rock wall as it pierced through the now limp body that had been ascending it only seconds ago. The body hung lifeless, skewered to the cliffside, now just a bloody piece of mangled meat. Thus bringing an end to the life of the unnamed scout.

…

A girl sat gracefully on a high stool. She wore a beautiful black dress, in a style of the affluent western countries. She had long, grey hair that stretched past her hips and eyes of a soft red hue. Her skin was fair, even among those of her region. She was small in stature, at only 154cm and weighing in at 42kg. Her fitted dress accented her delicate form, like that of a doll.

Standing beside her was another girl. She had golden hair that stretched to her back and eyes a marine blue. She was a frail, sickly girl, with pale skin as a result. She stood two centimeters taller than her companion, but only due to her platform boots. She dressed in a dignified manner, fitting of her noble status.

Her name was Helaina Ailsworth, heir of the Ailsworth Family, a noble family in the west with military ties. Her father, the head of the household, was a high-ranking member of the Sage Coalition. That said, his work had never brought him all the way out here, to Ibinian.

Helaina brushed the hair of her companion, En, a routine that had become habitual. En first came to serve Helaina as a bodyguard disguised as a personal maid. They were similar in age, both being 15, allowing the ulterior reasons to remain hidden. Over the last three years, however, their relationship had somehow deviated.

“Your hair has gotten quite long, Ena,” she said, referring to En by the nickname she had given her. “It’s difficult to tend when it’s this long. I’d say you're due a cut, but it’s just far too pretty.”

Normally, one in En’s statue would never dream to have her hair brushed by their master. However, Helaina tended to treat En less like a maid and more so like a living doll. Ironically, almost.

Even En, who was usually the overly orthodox sort, found herself relaxing a little while in private. Something that took her years to finally warm up to.

“That man you fought earlier was a Nova Ordo scout,” said Helaina, “They’re not the most unified of organizations, but even I’d never seen one so pathetic. I sure hope it’s not indicative of the Ibinian branch as a whole. After coming all the way here…” Her words trailed off, her face one of unapologetic disappointment.

“You mustn’t sigh, Master. It’s bad for your skin.”

“Yea, yea,” she said, brushing off En’s comment, “And don’t call me by such a stuffy name while in private.”

Helaina was the capricious sort, often acting impulsively on her desires. At her core, she was cruel hearted, delighting in the misery of others. When she heard rumors of a tournament-style battle happening in Ibinian, she knew she couldn’t miss it. Pushing aside her responsibilities as an Ailsworth, she ran off with En to this distant country just to witness the battles.

She had wished to participate herself. Of course, her status as an Ailsworth and her father’s position within the Coalition would never allow such a thing. Not to mention, she could absolutely not, under any circumstance, allow anyone to know she was ever within the country. After all, she didn’t exactly have permission to be this far out, away from home.

To that end, she forced En to participate in her place. There weren’t many who knew of En’s existence, especially this far out. But as an extra layer of added protection, she would have to wear a hooded coat while fighting and go by the name N, to keep her anonymity.

“I’d say I’m looking forward to your fight, but honestly I don’t even know anymore.”

“They were just a scout,” said En, “I’m sure the actual fighters are far more formidable.” She tried lifting Helaina’s spirit, a task that was easier said than done.

“I sure hope so.”

Helaina had already been in a bad mood since arriving. Hailing from a country of lush vegetation and cooler weather, the brutality of the arid desert had not been kind to her already frail physique. They had spent the last few days scouting the area and familiarizing themselves with the terrain in preparation for the fights. A task which had taken a toll on her.

To add insult to injury, she could not even find respite within her own hotel. The people of Ibinian were particular about their decoration, adorning the room in a traditional style. For someone close-minded like her, however, the whole thing felt tacky. She couldn’t, nor carried to, appreciate the cultural value, instead opting to complain and nitpick everything. Her biggest criticism of which was the establishment’s emphasis on style over practicality and comfort. A matter that had sent her on more than one rage-filled tirade since arriving.

Suffice it to say, she was banking the whole trip’s worth on the fights being worth the inconveniences she had been made to endure. A lofty feat, even now more so. En felt the pressure of expectation. Even if she couldn’t care less about the firemoth trade deal or any of the other politics surrounding the tournament, she knew at the very least it was her duty to see that her master enjoyed the event. To that end, she knew she absolutely could not afford to lose.

Character Overview

Name: En

Author: nautics

Allegiance: Sage Coalition

Age: 15

Race: Battle “Doll”

Bio: En was the name given to her when she came to live in the Ailsworth Household. Given to Helaina Ailsworth by her father for her 12th birthday, En’s role is to serve as Helaina’s personal maid while secretly being her bodyguard.

The Ailsworth family is a noble family with strong military ties in their home country (not Ibinia). Helaina’s father, the head of the household, is secretly a high-ranking member of the Sage Coalition. Because of this, Helaina’s life has constantly been at risk by those plotting against the family. En was given to Helaina to protect her and die doing so if need be.

En’s background is unknown, even to her. She was found on the battlefield, severely injured. After making a miraculous recovery, she was placed to fight, despite appearing to be no older than 10 at the time. Two years later, when Ailsworth heard how proficient of a soldier she was, on top of her strange regenerative abilities and strong magical aptitude, he took her so that she may protect his daughter.

En is a reserved, submissive girl. She is well mannered, though often finds herself mixing up the formalities of a maid with those of a soldier. She tends to zone out when she fights and has a tendency to be excessively violent against her opponents. Despite this, she has no ill will against those she fights, only doing so because it’s what she believes is expected of her.

She isn’t necessarily loyal to the Ailsworth family or the Sage Coalition, but is fond of Helaina, as she’s the only one who’s ever treated her as human.

Abilities:

• Natural Abilities: En is naturally stronger and more resistant than the average human. She’s much faster, in speed and reaction, and has heightened senses. She can leap further and higher and is less prone to taking damage from a reasonable height. (Abilities still have their limit.)

• Regeneration: En has a powerful regenerative ability. She cannot regenerate indefinitely, however, as doing so consumes a lot of energy.

• Magical Aptitude: She has a strong magical aptitude, focusing on ice-based magic. She’s weak to fire-based magic.

• Spells: She knows a handful of spells to help boost her strength and abilities. Namely spells that boost her attack, boost her defense, boost her speed, boost her perception, boost her magical aptitude, boost her regenerative ability, and give her magic resistance. She can also cause similar effects as debuffs against her opponent. She can stack her buffs and they can last all battle, but doing so burns through mana at an insane pace.

• Magical Construct: Her main weapon is a magical construct made from an unknown metal, capable of shifting into various forms, all of which she can use proficiently. Namely a sword, a shield, a bayonet, and a lance (her preferred form). She can infuse her weapon with ice.

• Imperfect Image: En’s trump card. A magic spell called Imperfect Image, a powerful spell that takes 10 minutes to activate and halves her life force when cast. Can only be used once a day – otherwise she’d die.
  • When cast, En’s magical construct is transformed into a large chain, that’s sent flying up into the sky. It turns black as from its tip emerges a red liquid, like blood. The liquid expands and solidifies, becoming a blood-red lance. The lance is not made of metal, but instead the body of En that has transformed into a magical construct of sorts. The lance comes barring down with the speed of a missile. The attack never misses.

  • While casting, En can still move and fight, but as the spell requires an immense amount of focus, her abilities are only a fraction of what they would otherwise be. If she loses focus while casting, the spell is broken.

Appearance: En has long, grey hair that she keeps tied up. She has red eyes that glow when she uses magic. She wears a black and grey dress that looks formal while not restricting her fighting ability. When going into battle, she wears a hooded cloak to conceal her identity.

How they got recruited: Helaina Ailsworth, being the mischievous sort, came to Ibinia when she heard rumors of the battles. Because it would be unbecoming for someone of her status to participate, she had En join instead, hoping she’d get to see an entertaining fight. En reluctantly agreed, merely following orders.