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At Albedo’s gesture, the snowflake sigil glowed bright blue as it rose into Dragonspine’s freezing atmosphere.
Strange. Doesn’t Albedo use the Geo element? Lumine thought.
Albedo chuckled. It was time for him to end it all. The alchemist brought his arm down and—
A sharp pain shot through his torso.
He froze. His ears rang. Before his blurring vision, Amber, Eula, and Bennett gasped. The white blur let out a yelp and hid behind the blonde figure, who lifted her arm in protection. Meanwhile, the sigil faded away.
Choking at the pain—damn his Master for giving him pain receptors—Albedo tried to turn and see the face of his assassin. Who was—?
Argh! The sword thrust deeper, making his legs tremble, his body, grow cold. He looked down at his chest. Through his fading vision, his own blurry reflection looked back from the silver blade slick with pink blood and snow.
No, no, no, no— Master, it hurts! Make it stop! I don’t want to do this!
With a jolt, the blade withdrew as quickly as it came, and he fell to his knees on the snowy ground. Crack . Pink pooled from his wound. Pain invaded his form. Albedo heaved and trembled as his chest throbbed and his hands were stained again and again with his blood. He strained to look behind him. The rigid form of the swordsman chilled his cooling blood further.
Master? No, I’m supposed to kill this one for him… But he looks the same as him. How could I?
Eula stepped closer to investigate. Standing behind the kneeling body with the elegant Cinnabar Spindle—his own sword—was another Albedo. His sky-coloured eyes were cold.
“What the devil is going on?” Eula tightened the grip on her claymore.
Albedo’s eyes narrowed at the shaking, writhing form of his body—no, his doppelgänger’s body—on the ground. Strange shapes swarmed beneath the stained fabric of the white uniform—a replica of his uniform—despite the fresh stab wound. In an attempt to heal itself, frost crept over the pink stain.
“It’s not over yet,” the swordsman warned. He lept away from the kneeling body with a few steps.
The body whimpered in discomfort. Unable to maintain the human form any longer due to the fatal injury, abnormal leaf-like growths broke through the false Albedo’s skin—if one could even call it that.
I’ve failed to take him down with that perfect form. I just want Master’s praise, yet…
The false Albedo cried out in terrible agony, a creature-like shriek. Pink veins. Blue leaves. Pale, furry tendrils. It all burst through in frenzied overgrowth as the plant’s features overtook the once-human form. Large cracks shot across the ground beneath him as his anatomy cracked and chilling pain surged through his body.
No, did Master even consider my form to be perfect? I’m just a mutated Whooperflower.
Moments later, a great Cryo Whooperflower with pink liquid running through his veins towered before the team. His lanterns and eyes glowed pink in the dark snowstorm. Frost covered his body.
Eula has seen many monsters on her guerilla missions, but never one like this.
“What is this…” She narrowly dodged the chilling spikes of ice that emerged from the ground.
Amber drew a flaming arrow and fired it at the monster’s head. “I’d say it’s a Whooperflower, but…”
“But it’s corrupted.” Eula imbued Cryo energy on her claymore’s blade. She lept and struck at the spot now pierced with an arrow, resulting in streaks of water melting down. “It might be more accurate to call it a Fellflower.”
Bennett, Lumine, and Albedo joined the two in unleashing attacks upon the great monster. A slash here, a shot there. Steam and vapour clouded the battlefield. Amidst it all, Albedo recounted what transpired so far.
Pink veins, stolen alchemy notes, a mutated Whooperflower abnormally strong due to Durin’s power… And another me.
Right. I should’ve known earlier.
Standing upon a jutting piece of rock, a blond figure in a white lab coat watched the scene beneath him unfold with crossed arms and a thin smile.