The crowd’s roar was deafening as the Manticore and Dreadclaw Demon were forcibly withdrawn just as they were about to begin crazily biting one another with their little energy remaining, their bodies flickering with exhaustion and mutual hostility.
Isolde’s jaw tightened—her first fusion had been undone, and now only the Phoenix-Harpy hybrid remained, circling the battlefield with wariness at the sudden downfall of its partner. Wanting to avoid the sa fate befalling itself.
Kain didn’t waste ti.
"Chewy," he murmured, holding out his arm. The small spore didn’t need to be told what to do. Glowing faintly as it siphoned stray energy from the battlefield—scraps of spiritual power, residual heat from the Phoenix’s flas, even the faintest echoes of the Domain of Delirium’s collapse. It funnelled all of it into the exhausted Bea, who reappeared in the sa spot where she’d initially disappeared from.
"You ready?" Kain asked Bea once he sensed that the funnelling from Chewy had slowed. "Sa plan. Faster this ti hopefully. Now that you have experience."
Bea didn’t respond with words—just a pulse of determination. Then after a brief suicide bombing of thousands of splits to trigger the Empty Throne Effect again, she was gone. Slipping into the ntal space of the remaining hybrid.
------------------
The Phoenix-Harpy’s mind was nothing like the Manticore-Demon’s.
Where the first hybrid had been further along in the process of separating and appeared like two separate domains fused together, this one appeared far more cohesive.
The Phoenix-Harpy’s mind was a single, terrifying harmony of fire and wind.
Where the Manticore-Demon hybrid had been divided, this realm was unified. The sky stretched endlessly, not as a storm, but as a grand arena of fire and feathers—crimson clouds streaked with gold like the phoenix’s wings, their shapes constantly reforming into avian silhouettes that dissolved as quickly as they appeared.
Hot pillars of fla erupted from the barren ground like geysers. But the Harpy’s influence created sharp blades of black wind that howled with predatory satisfaction as they hurtled right toward them. Ready to cut anything and everything down.
But sohow instead of weakening the pillars of fla, it only made them stronger. Perfect synergy.
Bea realized the danger imdiately.
This wasn’t two minds at war.
This was two killers working in tandem.
Even the heartbeats here were different.
Not two distinct pulses, but one—a fused rhythm, rapid and hummingbird-fast. The Phoenix and Harpy had synchronized better than their counterparts, their union more refined, more practiced.
That made them harder to break.
But not impossible.
Bea multiplied again, her splits scattering like embers in the wind. She didn’t have the luxury of ti—the hybrid was already wary, its movents in the real world sharp and defensive. It knew sothing was coming.
But it was hard to defend against an internal enemy.
Since neither seed likely to beco hostile to the other, she could only think to attack their union in one way...
By taking advantage of the prideful natures of both species.
Thankfully, due to her role as Kain’s research assistant, Bea was very familiar with the features of a variety of species. And so she knew, that in their core, both Phoenixes and Harpies were no less prideful than dragons.
Currently, they were working together because they believed the other to be their equal. That among all of Isolde’s contracts, they are the two most superior in potential. Creating a certain mutual respect.
’Let’s get rid of that...’
To the Phoenix, she whispered mories of the Harpy’s failures—tis it had been too slow, too weak, too reliant on the Phoenix’s flas to compensate. She twisted its perception, making the Harpy seem like a parasite, a lesser creature clinging to its glory.
To the Harpy, she skewed its mories and perception of the Phoenix’s abilities.
In these crafted mories:
The Phoenix’s flas always arrived too late, its glorious eruptions rely cleaning up kills that the Harpy had already made with surgical precision.
Every spectacular rebirth (which the Harpy was always secretly jealous of) was frad as wasted effort, the Phoenix’s immortality just a crutch for its inferior survival skills.
Most damningly, she showed the Harpy what could have been—visions of it soaring unshackled, no longer forced to drag the "dead weight" of a creature that needed to die repeatedly to stay relevant.
Outside, the slippery hybrid, while being ganged up on, briefly paused
Aegis and Vauleth imdiately seized the opportunity.
The earth beneath the hybrid trembled as Aegis summoned a pillar of stone, the hit it from below. White Vauleth weaved around to attack it from above.
It screeched, twisting mid-air to retaliate—but its movents were sluggish now, its coordination fraying.
And then—
The hybrid’s wings spasd.
A crack of light split its chest, just like before.
The hybrid let out a deafening cry—two voices, not one—before its body erupted into a burst of light. The Phoenix and Harpy tore apart, their fused form dissolving as they crashed to the ground in opposite directions.
Isolde’s last fusion had been undone.
The crowd was on its feet.
Isolde’s remaining contracts were exhausted.
The Soulreaver Incubus had already been taken out by Queen’s swarm.
The Infernal Sentinel Gargoyle, though still standing, was battered and slow.
The Phoenix and Harpy were both grounded, their wings singed, their energy spent.
Kain didn’t let up.
"Now," he ordered.
Aegis slamd into the Gargoyle, his stone fists crashing against its body—stone against stone. Vauleth swooped down, his claws locking onto the Harpy’s wings, pinning it in place. Queen’s Vespid Guards descended on the Phoenix, their stingers injecting paralyzing venom.
One by one, Isolde’s contracts were recalled.
First the Gargoyle, its stone body crumbling under Aegis’ relentless assault.
Then the Harpy, its movents growing sluggish before it finally dissipated.
Finally, the Phoenix—its flas guttering like a dying candle—was forcibly withdrawn.
The arena fell silent.
Isolde stood alone, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her fists clenched at her sides.
The referee’s voice cut through the stillness.
"Victory goes to Kain Newman of Dark Moon College."
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