'It happened again.'
Those were the words racing through Emilia's mind as she stared at Mira's ruined form.
She had to tilt her head back to look at her. Mira stood atop the crown of the massive pumpkin aberration that had clawed its way up from what could only be described as the very depths of pumpkin hell itself. Despite the destruction and horror before her, Emilia couldn't stop the small smile that curved her lips.
'It actually works,' she thought. Asta truly has the effect of increasing the power of those he comes in contact with.
She stepped backward, her real body fading from view as an illusion took her place, still watching the pumpkin monstrosity with an expressionless calm, as if nothing had changed.
From the moment Emilia had first laid eyes on Mira, she had dismissed the girl as useless. Her magic had seemed bland, unremarkable, her background equally uninspiring. Even though Mira possessed more magical power than most, thanks to the experiments performed on her by the MageSeekers, Emilia had been certain it would amount to nothing.
And yet…
Emilia knew, with faint irritation, that she had once thought the same of Darryl.
And just like Darryl, Mira had now proven her wrong.
This was not nothing.
'I dare say,' Emilia mused, her gaze tracing the immense bulk of the creature below Mira's feet, 'this thing is comparable to Atakhan.'
At that moment, a figure rushed past her, cutting through her thoughts as the battlefield continued to shift around them.
---
Darryl rushed past Emilia's hidden form as he sprinted toward the massive monster beneath Mira.
No, she wasn't being held hostage.
She was controlling it.
While Darryl wouldn't claim that he had fully warmed up to Mira yet, he had still known her for nearly two weeks. In that time, he had even begun training her in mana reinforcement and the basics of Ki. Slowly, almost without realizing it, she had become something familiar.
As a member of the Black Bulls, she was family.
And he was starting to get used to that.
So seeing her like this, the wretched crown hovering above her head, the green fire burning within her eyes, and the voice that was clearly not her own, made something ugly twist in Darryl's chest.
Anger flared.
He could still sense his captain locking Hecarim down elsewhere on the battlefield. That meant one thing: this was on him.
He had to save Mira from whatever this was.
The closer Darryl got, the clearer his understanding became of just how powerful the monster before him truly was.
The thing was almost as long as Shyvana was tall, and both his Ki sense and earth sense screamed the same warning, the creature wasn't hollow or loosely formed. It was dense. Unnaturally so.
Then his magic sense chimed in.
Every single pumpkin, from the smallest gourd dangling from its vines to the massive carved head that served as its core, was absolutely bursting with mana.
That was why, when several of the smaller pumpkins, each about the size of his head, some slightly larger, simply plucked themselves free and dropped from the creature's body, Darryl braced himself.
He was right to do so.
Before the pumpkins even touched the ground, thick stalks erupted from their bases, twisting and splitting into crude limbs. Arms, hands, legs, torsos, each one forming in seconds as the pumpkins reshaped themselves into something humanoid.
Eight small pumpkin minions hit the ground, already moving.
Darryl narrowed his eyes, his mind racing as he began calculating how to get past them the moment they made their move.
Darryl nearly lost his head to their speed.
He twisted sharply, body snapping to the side as something ripped past his chest. Fabric tore, his shirt shredding where the claw of one of the minions stabbed through the space he had occupied a heartbeat earlier.
His Ki sense flared in warning.
Of the eight minions, four had broken off and rushed him directly, their movements sharp and erratic. The other four didn't even slow down. They blitzed past the illusion of Emilia without hesitation, somehow aware that it wasn't real, and charged straight toward where the real Emilia was standing.
Although Emilia was momentarily surprised that her illusion had been seen through.
'Seriously, all the Black Bulls can see past my illusions now?'
she didn't let it show.
Her expression remained calm as red chains burst into existence around her wrists. In the same instant, the chains lashed outward, wrapping around all four minions and halting them mid-charge. They were yanked to a stop mere inches from her, their claws frozen in the air.
'Wait.'
Emilia's eyes narrowed as she took in the way the chained pumpkins trembled.
'Her pumpkins have the ability...'
Her thoughts were cut off as the pumpkins suddenly began to glow, their surfaces searing white.
'...to explode!'
Darryl's eyes went wide as the pumpkins he had barely dodged began to shine with the same blinding intensity.
Boom!
Boom!
Boom! ×8
The explosions tore through the battlefield in rapid succession, white-hot flashes swallowing the space where the pumpkin minions had been only moments before.
---
Vayne could see the massive cloud of black mist rising in the distance, and she pushed herself harder, boots pounding against the stone as she sprinted past fleeing civilians.
Shouts and cries echoed around her as people scattered in every direction, panic spreading faster than fire. She ignored them, her focus locked firmly ahead.
Oddly enough, this would be the first Harrowing she had ever witnessed firsthand.
That fact alone irritated her.
For someone who took such fierce pride in being a hunter of the dark, it felt almost insulting. She had trained her entire life to face horrors like this, and yet fate had kept her just far enough away every time.
Still, there was no mistaking it now.
It didn't get darker than the Harrowing.
If she hadn't spotted the flying sword of that damned foreigner cutting through the sky above Havenfall, she might not have realized something was wrong until it was far too late. The signs had been subtle at first, an unnatural stillness, the air growing heavy, shadows stretching where they shouldn't.
But the sword had been unmistakable.
And that, more than anything, fueled her anger.
She hated that man.
From the very moment she had laid eyes on him, the feeling had come unbidden and sharp, burrowing under her skin. He reminded her too much of Frey, in ways she didn't care to examine too closely. The resemblance alone was enough to sour her mood.
His story only made it worse.
Using the power of Devils to fight other Devils?
What a load of bullshit.
A monster was a monster. It didn't matter what excuse it wrapped itself in.
On his very first night in the city of Demacia, she had snuck into his mansion, crossbow primed, every instinct screaming at her to put a bolt through his skull before he could become a problem.
She hadn't been alone.
Several other assassins had done the same, slipping through shadows with practiced ease, each convinced they would be the one to succeed.
They had all failed.
Hilariously so.
Vayne still remembered watching from the rafters as one after another was discovered, disarmed, or outright humiliated before being tossed out like trash. He didn't even bother setting off alarms.
Vayne had found herself laughing at what she saw as sheer amateurishness of the assassins, shaking her head as she watched their attempts unravel one by one. Eventually, she'd decided she'd had enough.
She would show them how it was done.
It had taken her less than a minute to slip past their failures and make her move.
And even less time to be subdued.
The ease with which it happened still made her blood boil. The worst part wasn't even the defeat. He hadn't recognized her.
To him, she had been just another nameless assassin. Another nuisance. Without a second thought, he'd grabbed her and quite literally thrown her out, flinging her bodily over the walls of his estate before returning to his bed as if nothing of importance had happened.
He'd gone back to sleep.
Vayne had never been more humiliated in her life.
That night, lying bruised and seething beneath the cold stars, she had sworn an oath. If Asta ever died, it would be by her hands.
That oath had only been reinforced later, when word spread of his spar with the Dragon bitch. Of how he had transformed before their eyes, one wing unfurling, his form twisting into something that was neither fully demon nor fully angel, depending on who was telling the story.
And he had done it openly.
In front of several high officials of Demacia.
They had done nothing.
So cowed by his power that they had allowed a demon to walk freely through Demacia, not even pretending to challenge him.
That, more than anything, disgusted her.
She wouldn't let it stand.
She would find his weakness. She would expose him. And Shauna Vayne would be the one to end him.
Until then, she ran.
Her pace quickened as she reached the gates leading to the port. Beyond them, the mist loomed, thick and unmoving. It had stalled there for several minutes now, as if something, or someone, was blocking its advance.
No doubt about it. Asta, and his crew of fledgling monsters. The Black Bulls.
Just as she reached the gate, Vayne was blinded by a searing light of pure white. The heat struck her an instant later, and before she could even react, the shockwaves followed.
She was launched off her feet, her body tumbling violently across the stone before instinct and training kicked in. Twisting mid-roll, she dug her heels in and slid to a rough stop, boots screeching against the ground.
Vayne blinked rapidly, forcing her vision to clear as bright afterimages danced across her sight. Once she was certain she could see again, she surged forward without hesitation, rushing through the gate.
---
When Emilia regained her senses, she realized she was dangling.
Specifically, off Asta's shoulders.
Her mind supplied the information before panic could take hold. Only seconds had passed since the explosion. She could still see debris hanging in the air, fragments of stone and scorched earth only just beginning to fall back toward the battlefield.
Asta crouched slightly, allowing her to dismount, and it was only then that Emilia noticed she hadn't been the only one he'd saved.
Under his left arm, Darryl was held upright, the young man barely touching the ground but still on his feet, supported effortlessly. More surprising still, under Asta's right arm was Mira, her form struggling violently, limbs thrashing as she fought against his grip.
Emilia stared, once more struck by the sheer absurdity of the man's speed.
He had reached her and Darryl before the point-blank explosions had consumed them, and still had enough time to snatch Mira directly off the pumpkin monstrosity itself.
The realization sent a familiar thrill through her.
Oh, she truly could not wait for the day she would witness his full power, should that day ever come.
"Unhand me!"
Mira's voice rang out, distorted and layered with another, an unfamiliar male tone that Emilia instantly recognized.
'Viego,' she thought with mild disdain. 'Almost as pathetic as Vladimir. Guess it runs in the family.'
Asta answered the struggle by calmly planting his knee against Mira's back, pinning her down with practiced ease. Emilia could tell at a glance, Mira wasn't going anywhere.
"The hell happened to you, kid?" Asta asked, his voice edged with concern as he frowned down at her.
Mira responded by clawing at his face and hammering her fists uselessly against his arms, her strikes landing again and again without accomplishing anything.
Asta barely flinched at the blows.
Mira's fists struck his forearms, her nails scraping uselessly against skin that might as well have been iron, but her struggle did little more than wrinkle his sleeve. Still, he didn't ignore it. His brow furrowed deeper, not in anger, but in something closer to frustration.
The green fire in Mira's eyes flared brighter in response. "You dare restrain me?" the layered voice snarled, thick with contempt. "I am..."
"Possession." Emilia's unimpressed voice cut through Mira's struggle. "It seems Shyvana forgot to mention that part."
Asta nodded once, his expression grim. "Yeah. Seems like it."
His grimoire flashed open, pages fluttering rapidly as anti-magic bled into the air. From within the shifting pages, a sword emerged, one Emilia had only seen a single time before.
Her eyes narrowed.
'That's the sword that severs the connection between cause and effect,' Emilia noted, watching closely as Asta raised it. For a brief, unsettling moment, it looked as though he intended to drive the blade straight into Mira.
"Wait, Captain, don't!" Darryl shouted, panic breaking through his composure.
His fear, however, proved unfounded.
Asta didn't stab her.
He simply reached out and tapped Mira's forehead with the tip of the blade.
The effect was immediate.
Green mist poured violently from Mira's eyes, her mouth, her nose, spilling out in thick, writhing streams as if something was being forcibly torn free. The air warped around her, and for a few seconds, the mist screamed without sound before being swallowed entirely by the anti-magic.
Then it was over.
Mira went limp, collapsing forward as Asta released her. She sucked in a sharp, desperate breath, then another, her chest heaving as she struggled to breathe normally again.
Silence followed.
A sudden warmth brushed against Emilia's senses, and she looked up.
The pumpkin aberration was standing directly above them.
Her chains tightened instinctively, but she paused when she saw it clearly. The green fire that had once burned within the pumpkin's carved eyes was gone. In its place burned a steady orange flame, warm rather than malignant. The same glow flickered within each of the smaller pumpkins embedded across its massive body.
'It's quite stealthy for its size,' Emilia observed, unease prickling at the back of her mind. 'I didn't hear it approach.'
Her gaze shifted back to Mira, breathing steadily.
'Although… it seems it's no longer hostile,' she concluded, watching the creature stand motionless, 'now that Mira is no longer ruined.'
"How're you feeling, kid?" Asta asked as Mira slowly pushed herself upright.
Mira blinked, once… twice.
The world seemed to take a moment to catch up with her.
Her hands trembled as she stared at them, fingers flexing as if she didn't quite trust they were her own. The crown was gone. The weight in her head, the constant whispering pressure that had clawed at the back of her thoughts, was gone too.
Darryl stepped closer, jaw tight. "Are you ok?"
She looked up at him, eyes glassy. "I almost killed you."
"You didn't," he said immediately. Firmer than before. "And even if you had tried harder, I'd have stopped you. I'm stronger than I look."
That earned him a weak, humorless huff from everyone.
Mira clenched her jaw, tears finally spilling free. She turned her face away, shoulders shaking.
Asta placed his hand on her head. "It's ok Mira. You've done nothing wrong."
Mira shook her head. "No, I... I attacked you all and I... Let myself feel good about it. The feeling was just... So... So..."
Asta hugged the fifteen year old. "You did nothing wrong Mira. I'm not joking. It wouldn't be the first time one of the black bulls got possessed or controlled."
Mira still looked hurt. "But..."
"It's ok." Asta said. "No one here thinks you're at fault. I should tell you about time I was taken over. It was terrifying for me too."
The pumpkin aberration shifted behind them.
The ground trembled faintly as its massive form lowered itself, vines creaking as it knelt. One enormous vine carefully curled inward, placing itself between Mira and the battlefield like a living wall.
Then, from beyond the gate, a slow clap echoed.
Once.
Twice.
Vayne stepped through the settling dust, crossbow resting easily at her side, eyes sharp as they swept over the scene. The massive pumpkin. The unconscious remnants of battle. Asta, standing at the center of it all just as she expected.
"Well," she said coolly, gaze locking onto him. "That answers a few questions."
Asta glanced her way. "You lost?"
Her lips twitched. Not quite a smile. "Hardly."
Emilia sighed under her breath. "Ah. Wonderful. Her again."
Vayne's eyes flicked briefly to Mira, then to the pumpkin aberration.
"Looks like I arrived just in time," she said. "Mind telling me which one of you is responsible for that?"
The orange flames reflected in her eyes as the pumpkin giant shifted again.
Mira swallowed.
"…That would be me."