Headed by a Snake



The Monarch started walking forward, his steps graceful and quiet. 

For the briefest of moments, doubt invaded Ree's mind. 

She didn't hear that person's steps, at all! 

Did that mean the Monarch a Martialist like she was? 

No! He had to be a Caster! Only Pure Casters had the mana circuits to cast forbidden, elf-controlling Domination magics.

Even if he was a Martial Caster, he wouldn't have the mana reserves to cast high-level Spells in succession.

Ree slapped her face with both palms... then she stood up straight, crossing her arms. 

Magic? Martial arts? It didn't matter what stood in her way. 

She came to get revenge, not to cower in fear. 

Ree raised her chin, "Come at me, bro."

The Flamebriar Monarch stopped ten paces away from her. His height had diminished to only a few ilms taller than her... but his presence screamed a danger that made her hesitate to attack. 

She sensed... somehow... that she could cut through that aura with a sword. 

But... no. 

She couldn't trust it. 

She couldn't trust in steel. She couldn't trust in someone-- or something else. 

Kimura Taree could only trust in her fists. 

The Monarch pointed his sword arm toward her. 

His forefinger was pointed forward, touching the blade. 

It was weird. Outsiders didn't hold swords like that... 

But Ree didn't want to think anymore. If she were to wait for her mind to clear, she risked clearing the effects of the poison. 

Then, she'd hear the voices of truth. Then, she'd suffer the wakeful nightmares... 

She lowered her body, fists forward. 

So too did the Monarch, leaning back, his weight on his rear leg. He kept his sword pointed forward and down, his other arm back. 

He gazed at her through his ram skull mask with shining eyes.

They were blue... just like--

Ree furrowed her eyebrows.

"P... pale?"

The Monarch's sword arm...

It wavered. 

An opening! 

Ree activated ⌈Crane Leap⌋, dashing forward with a front kick. The Monarch blocked that, so she immediately redirected her force, spinning her heel toward her opponent's skull. 

Then, she found herself falling onto the floor.

Half-a-second after, she realized what had happened. 

She got hit. The Monarch's sword had struck her twice, once in the back of the leg, and in her back. 

If she was a normal person, the fight would have been over. 

Ree somersaulted away-- glancing back at the sword. 

That had become a very tempting option. 

"Arrrrgh!!"

What use was her pride when vengeance was more important?! 

Grabbing the sword, she spun around and charged at the Monarch again. 

She tried an overhead slash followed by a thrust. 

But the Monarch's footwork... he stepped away, dodging and deflecting with ease. 

Ree renewed her assault... only to fail again and again. 

Twice more, Ree took what should've been career-ending strikes: once to her chest and another to the side of her neck. 

It was... useless. 

Even with all her training, all her rage and anger, she couldn't even cut her opponent's afterimage.

Hot tears began to form at the corners of her eyes-- blurring her vision. 

The Monarch stepped forward, slashing downward. 

Ree did as her stupid, panicked brain told her to do. She abandoned her sword and grabbed onto the Monarch's with both hands. Then, she activated her ⌈Berserk⌋ form, betting everything on the strength that could break apart mountains. 

But again... 

She failed... 

Her strength was not enough. The Monarch's sword slid forward, in spite of it. 

The end didn't pierce her chest, but the blade cut deep ino her palms. 

Her throat was struck. She didn't see or sense the attack until after it was made. 

She couldn't breathe-- and she had unwittingly snatched her bloody hands back. 

Ree raised her arms up to block, but a kick to her thigh broke her fighting stance. 

She felt a pull on her arm and when she fell, the side of her head bounced on the floor. 

She felt the heat of her blood and the cold from the steel jian as it plunged through her abdomen... 

The Monarch's sword had cut her... even despite her ⌈Berserk⌋ form... even despite ⌈Stone Body Art⌋. 

But just when she was sure she was going to die, she heard a voice. 

"⌈Whirling Rend.⌋" 

Her fallen sword suddenly animated with magic, spinning toward the Monarch's head. He leapt back immediately... but one of his horns was severed cleanly off his ram skull mask. 

"The kid's done," boomed the voice. "I'll be taking her place."

Ree turned to see Dragan, slowly making his way toward her. 

He was... a giant of a man, walking with a huge black sword resting on his shoulders. He strode forward, his red hair flowing like the Chosen One from her childhood stories. 

The Monarch didn't make any hostile moves. 

He stood. 

He stared. 

Maybe he was... afraid? Anyone in the right mind would have been intimidated by a 9-fulm tall man with the Titan bloodline... 

Dragan dropped a bandolier of potions by Ree's side before removing the sword in her gut with a swift and smooth motion. 

"Drink the reds, kiddo. All of 'em," he ordered. "But stay down. It's only enough to keep you from seein' Hades."

"D... dragan," Ree sobbed. "I'm s-- sorry."

She was crying.

She hadn't cried since she first got separated from Pale. 

She didn't even cry when Vanya died... 

Ree had lost. She could barely move, much less fight. 

The liquid agony she drank had reached its maximum effectiveness. 

"Seven f*cking hells," Dragan cursed. 

He knelt down to unstopper a potion, lifting Ree's head and placing the bottle against her lips. 

She continued to cry as she drank. 

She was... so stupid. She was blinded by anger... and because of it, Sol Invictus had to come and save her. 

If she just thought... for just a single f*cking moment, she could have got help or she could have brought someone else. 

--even just Troia. 

If she just had one more advantage... one more person, she could have gotten the revenge she wanted. 

Dragan didn't say anything. 

...but his eyes shone with disappointment. 

Ree didn't even want to think about how Boss would look at her. 

After she finished the first potion, she gave her teacher a quiet nod. 

"D... dra... gan... thank--"

"Don't."

Ree gulped in fear. Dragan had never scolded her before-- not with a voice like that. 

"Shut up," he said firmly. "Drink. Then, there's yarrow leaves in that pouch. Use that and the waterskin to make a poultice. Do you hear me, Warrior Kimura?"

Ree winced at his forcefulness before nodding hurriedly, "Y-yes... Sir..."

In her state... did she even deserve to be called that?