Yuri screamed towards Malkaleth. The first needle she had let fly left a dark stain on her armor. It was almost corrosive, eating away at the plasma like a sentient phagocyte, slowly but surely working its way towards her life force. If that had touched bare skin, it would have started consuming her alive. If she took more hits, her armor wouldn’t be able to keep the avaricious ooze at bay.
Malkaleth guarded himself with an impressive array of onyx needles. Like a colony of wasps, they hovered around him, leaving no direct route to approach. The princess zig-zagged through the miasma, evading them by the thousands. She barely made it through the gaps, the needles getting ever closer by the second. Something had to be done fast. Palpable malice, thick and opaque, radiated from Malkaleth's form. The visage of something gargantuan and monstrous began forming behind him, as though he were channeling the bottomless gluttony of an old god to enact these arcane plights of death.
Seven spears of lightning formed above Yuri's head and hurled themselves toward the Butcher. The needles around him coalesced into a wall of ebony to stop the projectiles. The impact left a blinding flash, if only for a second. Yuri had... disappeared. Malkaleth frowned before immediately swerving to the left in horror. There she was, somehow right beside him, her katana shining brilliantly by her hip. Held in a low stance, it hummed with power as it traced an arc almost upon him.
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Malkaleth knew he wouldn’t get out of this unscathed. Channeling his power, he coated his hand with the same ebony crystal that enshrouded his needles. It should buy him some time. The katana bit into the lattice, slicing through it like a power washer through butter. Yet that infinitesimally small amount of added resistance gave him just enough time to evade the path of the blade. How was she here? he wondered, watching as the tip of her sword flew in front of his face. He watched his arm tumble away, dismembered, in slow motion. Yuri's plasma-encased body was already coiling for the next strike before he willed his needles to box her in, evading to what he thought was a safe distance.
Yuri held the needles around her in place with a shield of plasma, eyeing her one-armed opponent warily. Malkaleth clicked his fingers, and the portals around them closed.
“Figured it out, huh?” she spat venomously. “Impressive, Andross. You mapped out the portal network this quickly, huh? That’s how you emerged from the one closest to me. You made me think those needles were more of a threat than they were, just to get close.”
“It was the only way I had right now,” replied Yuri. “Your incorporeality has—and always will be—a pain in my ass.”
“Well done, Yuri. But I will be back.”
The Butcher turned into wisps and disappeared into the blackness. The darkness began clearing, revealing the sun once again. Yuri looked down to see the entire camp staring at her. She exhaled deeply.
“Time to go home.”