[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/VuLUHbY.png[/img][/center][center][h1]Alba[/h1][/center]
No sooner had Maeve uttered those words than she would be forced to back them up. All but three of Alba's remaining flock had abandoned their search in favor of an all-out assault, and now they came tearing through the woods like an angry swarm of hornets, closing in on the exposed Master. Within moments, she'd find herself pelted from all sides by suicidal bat-golems trying to overwhelm her weapons and magic with sheer speed and numbers.

[i]Enjoy it while it lasts.[/i] In her workshop, several miles away, Alba began to chant.

[color=6ecff6][i][right]"היזהרו מאלון השואב את השבץ. אני קורא למייקל, וגם לגבריאל, אתם מכים את מי שיגדלו את רצון האל."[/right][/i][/color]

The words came thick and fast, pouring from her mouth like a flood of living water, like the rain itself. This was old Kabbalah, powerful Kabbalah, not the kind that a mage would dare deploy under ordinary circumstances. Indeed, it was only because of the special conditions that existed tonight that Alba was able to use this freely at all.

She was well aware, however, that no brute-force use of golems would suffice here. The enemy Master had taken to the field with spear and sling and runes, entirely confident in her ability to survive. A warrior such as that would not lose in any kind of battle.

And so Alba would not fight her. Only crush her like a bug, using the most unfair and one-sided means at her disposal.

[color=6ecff6][i][right]"היזהרו מאלון השואב את השבץ. אל הספירות אני מגיע, מקבל את אורו של עין סוף. מכתר תחילה, זורם לחוקמה ואז לבינה"[/right][/i][/color]

From [i]Ein Sof[/i] first, the limitless emanation of divine light. Then flowing through each of the Sephirah in turn according to their natural order. The remainder of the incantation served to further refine and direct, adapting the spell to the specific conditions of the situation.

Power swirled around Alba now, filling her workshop with a blazing golden light. Her own reserves would not suffice for this; and so she grit her teeth and took the ivory dagger in her hand and drove it into her shoulder, stabbing up to the hilt. Mana surged into her Circuits from the Mystic Code, and for a few brief moments Philoctetes would feel his movements become swifter and easier, as his Master was overloaded with magical energy.

Gritting her teeth against the pain, she chanted on, her soft voice growing harsh and wrathful as blood seeped from her wound.

[color=6ecff6][i][right]"ובינה עד חסד, וחסד לגבורה ואז תפארת. ומתפארת יורדת לנצח, ואז הוד, ואז הקרן יסוד."[/right][/i][/color]

From Keter to Chokhmah, and then Binah, Chesed, Gevurah, Tiferet, Netzach, Hod, and Yesod. Surging towards Malkuth, from whence it would be unleashed into the world. To one unfamiliar with the Kabbalah, the order may have sounded arbitrary upon hearing it. Yet a single glance could reveal its true nature...

[center][img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/18/c9/ff/18c9ffc3b6bb644f018bb702f90a8c12.gif[/img][/center]
... The Lightning Flash.

Lightning, the incarnation of divine fury. Odin was a Pagan deity, and the use of his symbols was an affront to God. Alba uttered this, and the light swelled, eager to smite the one who had incurred its wrath.

Lightning, the herald of the storm. Tonight the skies were filled with clouds, and rain lashed down upon Blackrock below. Alba uttered this, and the magic flourished, taking on its natural form. The clouds churned, the downpour over the distant forest steadily intensifying.

Lightning, which struck tall trees and set them afire. Maeve fought in a forest, and just as the Sefirot formed the Tree of Life which carried through it the Lightning Flash, so too did the trees draw lightning in the material world. Alba uttered this, and the power seethed, hungrily eyeing its prey where she fought amidst the towering trunks and fallen leaves.

As the last of the golems hurtled madly towards the Master of Genghis Khan, Alba cried out one last time:

[b][color=6ecff6][i][right]"ולבסוף למלכות. היזהרו מאלון השואב את השבץ! היכה עליה, [color=fff200]!!!סומק ברק[/color]"[/right][/i][/color][/b]

And in that moment, the sky split in two.

A thunderbolt seared itself into the eyes of the two Khans, a lightning strike more furious than anything the storm above should have produced. A low rumble echoed for miles around, audible to each and every participant of the war. Across Blackrock, children awoke in their beds, wondering how close that bolt must have struck for it to be heard so loudly.

And at the center of everything, for the blink of an eye, a bright line arced between Maeve and the sky, as the heavens themselves were unleashed upon her with all their might.

[center]***[/center]
Back in her workshop, Alba collapsed to the ground, utterly exhausted. Her skin gleamed with the sheen of sweat and blood, and her ivory dagger lay cold and inert within her, its stored mana having been completely drained by that last spell. With a hiss of pain, she pulled it out, tossing it aside.

Her movements were sluggish, her body sore. Archer was still taxing her resources, and an injury that she would ordinarily have healed in an instant would take about a minute to recover. Unless there were any golems left on the scene, she wouldn't be able to tell if she'd succeeded, but regardless of the result she likely wouldn't be making another attempt tonight. [i]Even I know my limits...[/i]

That didn't mean she would be sitting idle, however. As she climbed to her feet and regained her elegant poise, Alba chewed her lip, considering. She and Archer were strong enough on their own, but the lack of coordination among the Black faction had been evident tonight. It would be worthwhile to establish more direct lines of communication, to see if she could rope anyone useful into her plans for the coming nights.

In other words, time to pay a visit to Caster of Black.