I Swear I’m Still the Hero!

Emily pounced forward without hesitation, her body stretching through the air in a smooth, predatory arc as she instinctively drew a thin sheen of mana across her skin like a second, invisible coat. It shimmered faintly if one looked closely enough, a subtle distortion in the air that clung to her fur and hardened just enough to turn lethal impacts into negligible ones. Umbra had spent months on them, patiently guiding each of her chosen through the awkward early stages of wielding magic, correcting their stances, adjusting their breathing, explaining over and over again how intention shaped power. Umbra’s patience and kindness had seemed endless at the time, and even now, in the middle of battle, Emily felt a surge of gratitude toward her for it.

None of them were masters yet, not even close, but they knew enough to make this war feel less like a desperate scramble and more like something they could win.

The humans did not have magic, yet their weapons carried a strange cruelty. When servants were struck by bullets, the wounds did not seal the way they should have. The bleeding did not slow or knit shut through willpower and regeneration, it simply continued to bleed until the servant collapsed and could not rise again. Emily did not understand why that was, and she did not particularly care in the moment, but it made her move faster.

She landed squarely on top of a soldier who had been shouting into a radio, her claws digging into his shoulders as a few bullets pinged off her mana-shield with sharp metallic snaps. Each impact sent a noticeable drain through her reserves, a tugging sensation that reminded her she could not afford to be careless. She slashed across his face in one fluid motion, then raked her claws across his throat before he could even process what was happening. She did not linger to watch him fall, there were others that required her attentions.

Much of the local army had begun converging on this area, drawn by the noise and the chaos, but the swarm was swelling just as quickly. Servants poured in from side streets and broken storefronts, a tide of altered flesh and devotion that pressed against the human line. Anyone they could capture alive was dragged backward through the mass and handed off to those stationed at the rear. Miss Luna would be here soon, and when she arrived, she would give the gift to the worthy.

The thought filled Emily with a warm, eager pride.

All this killing was a shame in a distant, abstract way, but it was also a joyous day. They had waited so long to spread Umbra’s love openly, to stop hiding in alleys and abandoned buildings like frightened animals. It had been weeks of preparation, of small skirmishes and whispered planning. Months, perhaps… Yes, months felt right. Time had blurred since everything changed.

She rolled sharply to the side as another rifle swung toward her, feeling the rush of displaced air as a shot cracked past. Before the woman holding it could adjust her aim, Jason’s thick tail slammed into her from the side with bone-jarring force, sending her sprawling.

Sarah was everywhere at once, dashing from person to person with terrifying grace. Her vampiric claws tore through kevlar and flesh as though neither offered meaningful resistance, and while she was perhaps more violent than their broader goals required, no one truly objected. She loved Umbra as fiercely as the rest of them, and that devotion excused much.

A deep, mechanical rumble began to build in the distance, drawing Emily’s attention upward. Through the haze of smoke and movement, she spotted an APC rolling toward them, heavy tires grinding over debris. Before it could get close enough to unleash whatever firepower it carried, a vast shadow swept overhead.

Rachel soared through the air to intercept the vehicle, wings beating powerfully as she inhaled. A gout of flame erupted from her jaws, washing over the armored vehicle in a wave of heat so intense that Emily could feel it from where she stood.

Harry, meanwhile, reached down and simply picked Emily up from her current position as though she weighed nothing at all. Before she could protest, he launched her bodily toward another cluster of soldiers. She let out an absolutely feline shriek of exhilaration as she flew, twisting midair to land claws-first among them.

The swarm was not idle either. They surged like a living wall of bone and muscle, pressing forward relentlessly, absorbing gunfire meant for their betters and shielding those like Emily who carried more refined power. Fighting within that tide made maintaining her mana-shield far easier, as fewer bullets struck her directly.

Samantha flickered in and out of sight across the battlefield, appearing behind enemies in sudden bursts before vanishing again with their limp bodies in tow. Emily could not help but feel a small pang of envy at that ability to teleport. Still, she reminded herself that all of them had their own strengths. She would not trade her speed or claws for anything.

Then she felt it.

A presence approaching from behind, familiar and steady, and an immediate wave of relief washed through her. She did not need to look to know who it was. Over the past weeks, all of them had developed a sense for Luna’s location, a subtle awareness that tugged at their instincts whenever she drew near. Luna had grown so strong. Emily still remembered the day Harry had jokingly challenged her to an arm wrestle. It had ended with Umbra carefully healing his arm after it snapped like a dry twig in Luna’s grip. No one had questioned her strength after that.

A small, secret wish stirred in Emily’s chest as she fought.

She wished Luna and her were something more than just mistress and servant, as scandalous as that thought might be. Maybe after everything was over, when the city was quiet and Umbra’s love had spread everywhere, she could be Luna’s pet. Back when they were both human, she had always wanted a cat. Perhaps Mistress would even give her a collar.

Emily shook the daydream from her head before it could distract her further. She leapt off her current opponent with a clean somersault, flipping backward into the swarm. The servants instinctively opened a gap for her, allowing her to land lightly on her feet before she bolted in the opposite direction toward the presence she felt.

“Luna!” Emily cried out gleefully.

“Emily,” Luna replied, offering a cool, composed smile that made Emily’s heart throb in her chest.

“Success, mistress?” Emily asked eagerly.

Luna laughed softly. “Of course, they were only human. They will be complete soon, though I doubt they will be joining us any time soon. I’m going to begin working on the captured soldiers now.”

“I’ve been doing a good job too,” Emily said, unable to keep the pride from her voice as she straightened slightly.

Luna reached out and patted the top of her head before scratching gently behind her ears.

“Good girl. Keep up the good work.”

Emily melted on the spot, the chaos of battle fading momentarily beneath the warmth of that simple praise.

Before Emily could leave, the world caught fire.

She hovered high above the street, great wings beating in slow, powerful strokes as the air rippled around her. The directional barrier she held in place shimmered faintly, bending and deflecting incoming rounds so that bullets sparked and ricocheted away in useless arcs. Below her, the APC she had just bathed in white-hot flame sagged inward like a candle left too long near a fire. Its armored plating glowed orange, then red, then began to slump and peel apart, molten metal dripping onto the asphalt in thick, hissing streams.

The sight of it filled her with a swelling sense of triumph that almost made her laugh.

How could she not feel empowered after something like that? She had taken a military vehicle, something designed to withstand gunfire and explosions, and reduced it to slag in seconds. The heat of her own flames still radiated faintly through her chest, a pleasant warmth that reminded her of what she was becoming.

She felt invincible.

Well, almost invincible. She was not foolish enough to place herself above Mistress Luna or Umbra. Their strength existed on a different level entirely, something deeper and more fundamental. But against ordinary humans and their machines? Against rifles and armored transports? She felt like a force of nature.

Rachel hovered in place for several long seconds, savoring the destruction below, before angling her wings and climbing higher. From that vantage point, she could use her enhanced vision to scan the horizon for movement. Smoke rose from multiple points across the district, and the swarm churned like a living mass beneath her. If there were more armored vehicles approaching, she wanted to see them first.

She wanted to melt another one. She craved that feeling again, that surge of power and validation that came from unleashing her fire and watching something formidable collapse under it.

Tilting her head slightly, she swept her gaze across distant streets and intersections. For a moment, she saw nothing but scattered troops and the ongoing clash between soldiers and servants. Then something flickered at the edge of her enhanced peripheral vision.

It was subtle at first. A distortion. A movement too fast to immediately identify. Along with it came a rhythmic thumping sound, like a distant drumbeat echoing through the air.

Rachel turned toward the east, narrowing her eyes.

Whatever it was, it was moving fast. Very fast.

The thumping grew louder, and she realized with a sudden jolt that the source was heading straight toward her. The speed at which it closed the distance was alarming, far beyond what she could comfortably match in level flight.

Instinctively, she folded her wings and dove toward the ground, intending to break line of sight and force whatever it was to adjust.

It was a mistake.

The rhythmic thumping intensified, shaking the air around her, and she had barely leveled out just above the street when something struck her with overwhelming force. One moment she was hovering above the pavement, the next, the world exploded into motion.

Her barrier shattered instantly under the impact, fragments of magical energy scattering like broken glass. Pain flared through her arm as something crushed and twisted it at an unnatural angle. She did not even see her attacker clearly before she was hurled backward, her body sailing over the swarm in an uncontrolled arc.

She hit the concrete hard and unfortunately, the road did not yield.

The impact knocked the air from her lungs, and she bounced once, then again, before tumbling across the asphalt in a disorienting blur of sky and smoke. Finally, she rolled to a stop amid scattered debris.

Then she screamed.

Everything hurt.

The pain was not localized but vast and overwhelming, radiating through her entire body. She tried to push herself up and discovered she could not move her arm at all. It lay twisted beside her, mangled and wrong. One of her wings felt distant, numb, as though it no longer belonged to her. Her legs refused to respond when she commanded them.

Shakily, she forced her head up, and the motion sent bolts of agony lancing down her spine.

Above her, the sky was glowing.

Were those Clouds?

Hadn’t it been clear only moments ago?

Beams of light began to spear down from the heavens, brilliant columns that struck the ground with terrifying precision. They extended as far as Rachel could see, each one targeting a lesser servant within a wide radius. It did not matter whether they were outside in the open or inside buildings carrying out their assigned tasks, the beams found them all the same.

Where they struck, servants turned to ash almost instantly, their forms disintegrating under the searing intensity. The air filled with howls of pain and confusion, a chorus so loud it seemed to rattle her skull. Homes and shops caught fire where the beams grazed structures, flames climbing eagerly along rooftops and through shattered windows.

What was happening?

It had been going so well. It had been easy. Too easy, perhaps.

What had even hit her?

Through the billowing smoke of fallen allies and burning buildings, the rhythmic thumping returned. This time it was slower, more deliberate, and impossibly heavy. Each step seemed to reverberate through the ground itself.

From the smoke, a towering, lithe knight emerged.

Her armor was smooth and pale, unmarred by soot or ash. An elegant horn curved upward from her forehead, and her dark eyes glowed a deep, ominous red as they fixed unerringly on Rachel’s broken form.

Rachel recognized her instantly.

It was the knight from the videos.

Umbra’s enemy.

Above the knight, suspended in the air with an aura of radiant authority, hovered the angel.

Never before had Rachel felt so helpless.