Shore Battle: The Clash For Akranes [Iceland Conflict Event Mission]

Struggling against overwhelming odds -- didn't they grow tired of that? Neoveta couldn't help but ponder that question as she waged her holy war against these accursed people. For as she began setting her sights upon Chikara, the sight of that imbecile brought forth such a strong sentiment of disgust in her heart. As she understood quite well these enemies weren't in the league to deal with her. And it was sickening to see them try against such daunting odds.

"Come now, I hear you muttering such ridiculous words. Are you being driven to insanity over there? I told you, if you just gave up and made this easier you wouldn't be dealing with this pain now."

Despite not a single motion of movement being seen from her mouth, The Demon Princess's voice echoed throughout the battlefield. Mass Telepathy -- was it not a wondrous gift from the satanic gods? It was but apart of the devilish package which made her an unholy force to deal with. And, from this dark blessing, would she then ensure it's fiendish fruits saw their glory made whole in his blood.

For, with a wave of her hand, The Princess sent mental commands in order to influence the environment around them once more. This time, she would summon clusters of dense energy in order to devour, consume and obliterate the lances of determination which were shot towards the missiles raining down upon the lone Dragon Knight. Filled with enough destructive might to carpet bomb this whole miserable island for many dozens of meters, it served as no surprise to Neoveta if it didn't manage to achieve it's intent of annihilation.

"Give up and let my rampage soothe you. I'm well aware it hurts. All I want to do is relieve of your heretic ways and absolve that body of yours from this pain. It's idiotic to resist that and struggle in futility."

More whispers of the mind would continue to jar, pick and prod the determination and willpower of Chikara's mind as The Demoness filled his head and the space around him with such suggestive thoughts. If he let one sign of hesitation or weakness show in his mental resilience? Then the daunting grip of The Asthavon's will would surely swallow him whole and yearn to dismantle his resolve to fight and end this battle here.

"You fall to the earth, fly to the heavens and find yourself back in the dirt because of your own misguided belief that you assume you can stop the will of our religion."

Voice filled with more rasp and fire, the tone of the child was turning more agitated, yet oddly amused at the same time. It was almost as if she were finding pleasure in giving forth a rigid struggle to these fools. That is why she would not raise a finger against his charge towards her. Viewing the explosive dash of his frantic outburst to reach her, The Princess could only give an ominous chuckle as she was delighted to see such a response given to this strife.

Unfortunately for him, by the time he made it to Neoveta's small sphere in the sky, the protocols had already been put into motion in order to defend herself against such rubbish attacks. So, for the first slash made -- a tendril of blackened energy extended from the barrier and sought to negate the hit. The same result would occur for the upward slash, but the appendage of demonic energy would then shatter under the weight of Chikara's determination.

"Interesting."

That was all Neoveta had to utter as she observed that slight little clash. Maybe this did have the opportunity to become further interesting. As she could sense and feel the slightest of twinges in this battle accelerating their potential. Perhaps it would even be best for that to happen -- if only to shatter their resolve. That is, if they could even find some ridiculous new power to clash against this satanic princess with.

Regardless, it wasn't the time to get lost in useless thought. Her sights were set clearly on the spells being put into place on the battlefield. So, The Demoness sought to observe the magic being used and see if there was any simpler methods to diffuse them with. Thus, Neoveta did not bother to raise her hand against his advances and witnessed him obliterating all of the projectiles coming towards him.

If nothing else, this male appeared to be a summoner and it may be best to try and see if she could achieve a means to break that magic. This became further apparent when the Knight summoned yet another lance and dared to charge at Neoveta again. However, with this round, it appeared her had more power and will behind it as the whole of the landscape became devoured in explosions.

White flames, blue fire and defying sounds filled the war torn area and Neoveta couldn't help but laugh as he became filled with such determination.

"Heathen, there is apart of myself which almost takes pleasure in watching you struggle. You've managed to capture my attention, but just how long can you withstand the onslaught of my violent storm?"

That was an honest question. Just how long and how far did these two intend to keep this battle on? A few minutes? An hour? Half a day? A whole day? A week? A month? A years? Decades? Centuries? Thousands of years? For an eternity? It was possibly stepping into the terrority of excessive thought, but there had to be a point where their willpower depleted and failed them. It was just a process of finding where that buck stopped.

So, as he swung his sword at her barrier, the offensive might from his blows would help to serve to weaken it and assist his ally in breaking free of her entrapment. Which is her eyes were now solely focused on the sight of ARSA. Sure, she may of had a sword sticking out of her chest, but Neoveta assumed she was in much better condition than the tin-can next to her. Limbs barely hanging on by a wire, systems shutting down and burns, scrapes and holes were littered all over the miserable things body.

It would be a pity that the fragile unit was in such a sorry state. At least -- if Neoveta wasn't finding a sadistic interest in watching what is suppose to be a cold and soulless machine fight with the passion of one with a spirit.

"I'm semi-divine, so it would be ill-advised for you to classify me as a mortal. But, do go on about your heretic stances. I'll be sure to burn them just as I touched the souls and bodies of our enemy. I have no compassion in my heart for fools unwilling to accept to our embrace."

And that much was certain. Little by little, the consciousness of Neoveta was altering and finding that it was a waste of time and energy to worry herself over foes whom could not understand what Khalaism provided. Instead, it was better to slaughter those whom dared to have the tenacity to rebel and fight against their loving cause.

Thus, with this resolve hardened in her heart, the laugh of Neoveta echoed with a foul intent behind it. The further ARSA stabbed into The Princess, the more putrid this raspy cackle became before her face turned sullen and stern. When the final blow of the machine's assault ended, there was nothing but a flash of crimson light seen within the dome -- prior to it's shattering. As, combined with her might and The Dragon Knight's power, the shield broke and it crumbled into many pieces.

Yet -- her rotten cluster of energy still remained. Floating above them both one hundred feet in the air, The Princess appeared to have a scowl worn across her face as she rose her right hand above herself. Something wasn't pleasing her.

"It doesn't matter what I can't sense from you. It can't be enough to bridge the gap between us. Otherwise, you would have slain me by now if it was that great. So go forth, show me this absurd Hershey of yours and I'll gladly break it to prove my point to you."

Oddly enough, despite her ravings, The Demoness was showing them mercy in the fact that she allowed them time to realize their inner strengths. So, to her, now was going to be the time to "show her" the "wrongs" she's committed with their "resolve". Otherwise, it was lights out for them and she was going to put the curtain on this clash if nothing sufficient served to satisfy her taste for this battle.

Tick, tock. The clock of fate was ticking.