Frontline Empress-Chapter 85: Alexandra and Mabbel vs ???

I floated in the void. No sound. No weight. No sensation. Just endless darkness stretching forever. I didn't know how long I had been here. Had I always been here? Had I ever been anywhere else? Thoughts flickered, but they had no shape, no anchor. I wasn't even sure if I was thinking at all.

Then, something shifted.

A pull. Gentle at first, like a whisper against my mind. It curled around my consciousness, tugging me toward something—something real. A light. Distant, faint, but undeniable. The moment I felt it, I began to move. Or was I being moved? Either way, I had no control.

The light grew. Faster. Closer. It swallowed everything.

And then—I saw.

For a fraction of a second, no, less than that, a sliver of something beyond the light cracked open before me. A fracture in time and space. The perfect cycle, the ordered universe, the construct of gods—I saw beyond it. And what lay past it—

Madness.

Eldritch Horrors that had no name. That could have no name. Writhing, twisting, existing where existence should have failed. Watching. Waiting. My mind wasn't made to comprehend them, but for that sliver of a moment, I did. And that understanding broke me.

I screamed.

The light trembled as if startled as if something within it had faltered just slightly. And in that hesitation, something that was meant to happen to me simply... didn't. A process interrupted. An operation skipped.

Then the light dragged me forward, pulling me deeper, faster. Images crashed into me. Thoughts. Memories? Were they mine? Had they ever been? It was impossible to know. I had been nothing only moments ago. But now, these fragments wrapped around me, shaping me, twisting me into something more. And in that moment, a name surfaced.

Lazarus Cliftaar.

I knew it was me. And yet—

The light faded.

I opened my eyes.

Everything was too bright, too loud. My body felt wrong. Heavy, uncoordinated. I tried to move, but my limbs didn't respond the way they should. I looked down—or tried to. My arms. Stubs. My legs, also stubs.

A crib.

Realization struck like a hammer. I had been reborn.

Around me, eight eyeless women stood, their clothing foreign, their faces alight with something between reverence and joy. Then they sang, their voices rising together...

"HE HAS AWOKEN! THE REINCARNATION IS HERE!"

...

(Present Day)

(Back on the battlefield)

"Do you know why you were able to kill The Blinded so easily?" Bhanun asked Mabbel, voice like a rumbling volcano.

Mabbel froze as she felt a shiver shoot down her spine. Tridra also froze for a moment as the man took a single step forward, and the mist began to wrap around his limbs and face. And from behind the mist that covered his face, a demonic smile shone through, followed by a single gratingly ugly voice...

"It's because I wasn't there."

Bhanun's body trembled, the mist consuming him like a living thing. His hulking frame—once broad, rigid, unshaken—began to shift. Muscles compressed, his sheer bulk thinning, stretching into something leaner, something more precise.

His face, once seemingly carved from stone, its features sharp, softened. His buzzed black hair unraveled into long, silken, emerald strands, cascading over his shoulders like grass given a new form.

And still, he had no eyes.

Where there should have been sight, there was only smooth, unbroken skin, an absence that made his new form all the more unsettling.

The mist around him pulsed, writhing like it had a mind of its own. From its depths, something moved—a shimmer of deep green, a ripple of scales. A jade serpent coiled from the darkness, slithering up his arm before coiling itself around the greatsword's hilt.

The weapon groaned, its metal twisting, reshaping. The wide, rugged blade slimmed, its edges refining into the sleek precision of a longsword. The serpent's body entwined itself into the hilt, its head resting just above his grip, its glinting emerald eyes locked forward as if watching—waiting.

When the last of the mist settled, the battlefield was silent. The man who had stood there before was gone.

And in his place stood something else entirely.

Tridra and Mabbel stared at the man, eyes wide, caught between shock and something close to awe. His presence was overwhelming, the smoke that had once poured from his form now clung to him like living strands, coiling around his body and sword.

"What is betrayal to you?" he asked.

Neither of them spoke. He stopped in place, his gaze unreadable.

"Have any of you ever been betrayed?"

Again, silence. Then his expression shifted, a slow, cruel smile stretching across his face.

"Well, in my opinion... It feels so fucking good... because then... and only then... did I have an amazing excuse to get rid of those fucking fanatics."

Without warning, he lifted his sword. His body turned toward Tridra in a flash.

"Let's first get rid of the pest."

He lunged. The blade came down, but Mabbel was there. Her scythe caught the strike, yet the tendrils of smoke slithered along the weapon. Without even touching her, the sensation ripped through Mabbel's body. It was as if she were being pulled apart in four directions. The shock overwhelmed her senses, and she collapsed. But just as her body gave in, she forced her eyes open, caught herself with her scythe, and fought to stay upright.

The man's sword swung again, again at Tridra, but without the nuisance of the Gloomtaur leader. She barely managed to dodge, but the tendrils lashed out, stabbing into her. The same tearing sensation exploded through her body, ignoring the charm she had placed on herself.

It didn't matter at all.

It didn't matter in the slightest.

Her senses twisted, her mind unable to grasp what was real. She fought to regain control, biting down on her lip so hard that blood spurted past her teeth, the pain snapping her back to awareness.

Kneeling, she glared up at the man as he looked down at her.

"People like you get betrayed all the time," he said. "Weak. How weak you are."

Tridra cursed at herself, screaming internally for her body to move. He watched her struggle, then sighed. Instead of finishing her off, he lowered his blade and turned to Mabbel, who was slowly getting back to her feet, gripping her scythe as the chaos of battle raged on.

That was worse than death. He didn't see her as a threat. She had to change that.

A small whimper escaped her lips as she brought a dagger to her chest. Gritting her teeth, she carved a rune into her own flesh. Not just any rune. A rune containing a message. One she had no time to speak.

Then, she turned and threw her dagger across the battlefield, over the carnage, and to the Holy Knights fighting the Dark Elf Bandit King.

With everything she had left, she dashed to Mabbel's side, her violet eyes glowing. She leaned in close, ignoring the danger, ignoring Bhanun as he turned his blade toward her instead.

"You will instantly decipher my message," she whispered, her charm magic sealing the words into Mabbel's mind.

Bhanun's sword came down.

Steel cut through flesh.

Tridra collapsed forward, blood spraying from her back. Mabbel froze, her mind struggling to process what had just happened. Then, Bhanun's tendrils lashed toward her. She barely managed to pull away, avoiding their grasp. They activated upon whatever they touched. Not just flesh, but objects. The ground seemed exempt, but there had to be more to it.

She didn't have time to figure it out.

"I gave the pest a chance to flee," Bhanun said. "But I'm not so benevolent as to let a rat run twice."

Then, golden hair flashed beside her.

Mabbel turned. A woman in Holy Knight armor knelt beside Tridra, golden eyes burning with an icy light. Holy Power pulsed from her gloved hand, sealing Tridra's wound. Slowly, she lifted her head, locking eyes with Bhanun.

A chill ran through him. Mabbel felt it too.

Bhanun tilted his head, his voice quieter this time.

"You... have potential."

A shimmer of violet light flashed before their eyes. Mabbel, Bhanun, and Alexandra all saw it, the message burning briefly in their vision. But only one of them understood.

Alexandra flipped Tridra over, checking for wounds, and her eyes landed on the rune carved into Tridra's chest. Mabbel inhaled sharply. She traced the meaning instantly, her mind piecing together what Tridra had been trying to tell them.

"The shifting senses aren't random... they're... in a pattern?" she muttered, the realization sinking in.

Alexandra stood, lifting Tridra into her arms. She turned to a nearby Gloomtaur, his dark form lurking at the edge of the circle created within the ongoing battle around them. "Bring Tridra to Ophelia," she instructed.

The Gloomtaur hesitated, his wary gaze flicking to Mabbel. She gave him a small nod. He swallowed hard, then vanished into the battlefield's shadows, taking Tridra with him.

Both women turned to face Bhanun. He smirked, resting his sword against his shoulder.

"Ready for round two, ladies?"

Mabbel lunged first. Her scythe, a writhing mass of shadows, extended mid-swing, stretching toward Bhanun's throat. He stepped back, but the scythe bent unnaturally, curving to follow him.

He twisted his longsword in response, the tendrils of smoke unraveling and whipping out to intercept the weapon. They coiled around the scythe's shaft, dragging it off-course, but Mabbel used the momentum, twisting her entire body into a spiraling kick aimed at Bhanun's ribs.

Then she felt it. Her senses churning like a whirlpool. Then they snapped back.

Bhanun blocked with his forearm, barely shifting from the impact, but Alexandra was already there. She lunged low, her longsword thrusting toward his exposed flank. Holy Power roared around her, the lion's mantle on her back flaring as she struck.

Bhanun pivoted, his footwork precise. He dodged left, but Mabbel sank into the shadows at his feet, reappearing behind him in an instant. Her scythe came down like an executioner's blade.

He twisted, sword meeting scythe in a clash of steel and smoke, however, just as those same tendrils of smoke extended out, Mabbel fell back, retracting her scythe.

In an instant, Alexandra closed the gap, pressing the attack. She slashed in rapid succession—one, two, three strikes, each aimed at a vital point. Bhanun blocked the first, dodged the second, and redirected the third with a flick of his sword. But Mabbel was relentless, forcing him to defend on two fronts.

Then the tendrils struck again.

The smoke lashed out from his blade, snaking through the air so fast that they looked like gray blurs. One tendril brushed against Mabbel's shoulder, another wrapped around Alexandra's arm.

Their senses warped.

Mabbel staggered, her balance thrown as her sense of touch became sight. Her body felt distant, disconnected. Alexandra clenched her teeth as sound became smell—suddenly, the battlefield was nothing but an overwhelming stench of blood and ash.

Bhanun capitalized on the moment.

He faked with a sword slash and kicked Alexandra square in the chest, sending her skidding backward. She caught herself, digging her sword into the ground, gasping as her senses instantly snapped back to normal.

'He's playing with us...' Alexandra thought to herself.

Mabbel, still disoriented, barely ducked under a horizontal slash. She vanished into the shadows, emerging at Bhanun's side, swinging her scythe upward. He twisted away, but Alexandra was back in the fight, her sword arcing toward his side.

Bhanun smirked and let the tendrils lash out again. This time, Alexandra remembered Mabbel's words and saw the pattern. The senses weren't shifting randomly—they followed a cycle.

Touch to sight. Sight to hearing. Hearing to smell. Smell to taste.

The next time she was hit, it reversed, but also rotated.

The realization clicked, but she had no time to think.

Mabbel reappeared beside her. "It's a pattern," she said quickly.

"I know," Alexandra replied, just as another tendril lashed at them.

This time, they braced. Alexandra was struck first—her sense of touch vanished, replaced by taste. Mabbel got hit second—her hearing turned into smell.

Bhanun rushed in, blade flashing. However, even with the disoriented feeling rushing through her, Alexandra pivoted, sidestepping the first swing. In addition, Mabbel ducked, slipping into the shadows again.

Bhanun spun, expecting Mabbel to attack from behind. But she was ahead of him. Her scythe lashed out, aimed at his wrist. He blocked, but Alexandra surged forward, her lion's mantle blazing as her strength doubled.

Her sword crashed against his, sending vibrations up his arm.

Mabbel struck low, slicing at his legs. He jumped, twisting midair, but Alexandra was faster now.

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Her blade cut through the smoke surrounding him, Holy Power dispersing the tendrils before they could reach her.

But Bhanun adjusted.

He turned his sword, letting the tendrils collapse in on themselves, redirecting their energy.

Mabbel moved in again, but another lash of smoke caught her ankle. Her senses twisted again—this time, her vision became sound, and the battlefield became a deafening roar in her head.

Alexandra took another hit. Her touch shifted to sight, and her depth perception warped.

But now, they understood the sequence.

If it weren't for the man playing around with them, this fight would have already been over.

Alexandra forced herself to adjust, predicting the next shift before it happened. When Bhanun swung again, she ducked at the last possible second, while keeping the pattern she had just memorized stored in her head.

Mabbel, despite the overwhelming noise in her head, used the shadows to reorient herself, slipping behind Bhanun and striking at his back.

They were figuring it out.