The Moonborn Hunter did not hesitate to grab Farren's Bulwark as soon as it as offered, though they did pause for a second afterward to cock their head as they seemingly examined the sword as if puzzled as to why they had received it. Rather than dwell on the question they obviously could not ask, however, another bluish flash announced the arrival of half a Blade of Mercy in their left hand before they promptly rushed into a frontal assault against Arrayah.
This time Arrayah – now fully recovered from getting stunned and crashing into the wall – delivered a diagonal slash with her sword the instant the Moonborn Hunter was in range. Her long arms meant that she could hit the Moonborn long before they could reach her, and this attack was executed with an explosive burst of speed that made it difficult to even see it from up close, and impossible to evade it with a quickstep. The most the Moonborn could do was to lean slightly to the side so that they “only” received a deep and horrid gash into their shoulder and chest rather than being instantly beheaded.

Ignoring the damage they had received, the Moonborn kept up their aggression and Arrayah's attention on themself. They stepped in close, right up to her body, and viciously stabbed both of their weapons into their monstrous opponent. The Blade of Mercy-half barely penetrated Arrayah's skin, piercing maybe a centimeter or so inside and doing entirely negligible damage, whereas the Bulwark – propelled by their superhuman strength – plunged in all the way to the hilt.
Arrayah let out a terrible, inhuman wail and recoiled from the damage, but that was nothing compared to the earsplitting scream that filled the cavern a second later when the Moonborn Hunter activated Bulwark's transformation while its blade was still embedded inside her.

Torquil also decided to take advantage of this moment of weakness and rushed up to Arrayah's left side, relentlessly slamming her with Fulmen another two times. The first hit produced another burst of electricity, somewhat larger than the previous once, and left a slightly more severe burn before it regenerated. After the second hit with an even bigger burst, however, the hammerhead seemed to have begun continuously emitting fingers of lightning that crawled across its surface.

Ophelia observed the battle proceeding apace, having picked up by now that it was indeed specifically the Arcane that Arrayah seemed to have a resistance to. She was mostly useless--even if she just used her blade as a physical weapon, it would be like hitting a giant with a butter knife. None of the other weapons she'd stowed with the little ones--the Rosmarinus and Kos Parasite--seemed like they would do anything either, primarily being of the Arcane variety as they were. Farren had definitely picked up on it too, having handed the Shopkeeper a physical weapon rather than one of their own effigial weapons which seemed to be fundamentally Arcane too (based on how little damage it did to Arrayah compared to the Beastflayer). The blood gem Gerlinde had worked into her weapon rendered it much less effective too--and even the flames from her Horn of the Old Lords seemed to be infused with that energy.

Torquil was doing very well, though, she could tell: taking good opportunistic hits when he could, building charge within Fulmen. 5 hits so far. 10 was the absolute maximum--she reckoned he should probably unleash it around 8. Maybe 9... get some real testing in. Ophelia was not under the impression that Arrayah was truly injured yet, more... surprised by the ferocity of the assault, given how easily she must slaughter most of her prey. How easily she slaughtered them all the last time they were here. The distance gave Ophelia some reprieve from the smell, too, and while she stared and pondered intently she only retched once or twice as a particularly pungent waft of sickening aroma flowed over her.

"Four more hits, Torquil, I'll tell you when to discharge! She seems resistant to the Arcane specifically!" She called out, beginning to circle around Arrayah while keeping her distance relatively the same (or perhaps increasing how far away from their foe she was a little) to give herself plenty of berth to avoid Arrayah's attacks. She was frighteningly quick, based on the two real attacks they'd seen so far, and distance really was the best chance of actually avoiding anything. The next time they were here she'd need a physical weapon--and preferably one that had some decent range to it. Perhaps Farren and the Shopkeeper could advise her of something when they returned to the Dream. She withdrew a blood vial and kept it in her hand, ready to dash in and administer it to one of her allies if they should need it. She could at least watch out for them that way.

_Farren

smiled to himself when he witnessed the Moonborn’s much more successful assault. Though he hoped they could withdraw the blade from the horrid beast’s flesh to continue using it, rather than leaving it embedded. Still, he didn’t spare much attention for that, nor did he do more than note the amount of times Torquil had struck with Fulmen. Seven times by his estimation. If Arrayah had not been as powerful as she was, Farren might have suggested his ally discharge the weapon. With things moving swiftly, he didn’t really have much time to communicate though and there were other things to attend. Internally though, he didn’t entirely agree with Ophelia’s estimation, feeling that getting so close to ten hits might be inadvisable. Then again…Torquil was rather hardy and Arrayah was a worthy foe, if nothing else. Thus, Farren accepted the risk. Besides, once all was said and done, even if the blast killed them…well, they could simply try again. Though, it would mean that Arrayah could adjust to the properties of the weapon, in one way or another.

‘Enough thinking,’ he thought silently with a note of amused irony, then he shifted his body weight, wheeled back the Beastflayer and swung the flame-wrapped weapon, unleashing it into its bladed-whip form again to strike from some distance, though from the side opposite the Moonborn Hunter and Torquil. If no reprisal came, he’d strike a second time, this time once his feet were fully planted as he slid to a stop, bracing himself. He’d use his entire body, generating more swing by twisting as he swung the weapon.

As he used it more, he began to get a better feel for the implement, his strikes growing more focused, targeting the smaller–seemingly more vulnerable–humanoid body of Arrayah, rather than her massive distorted human-centipedal section.

In front, the Moonborn Hunter undid the transformation and retrieved Farren's Bulwark while dismissing their own practically useless effigial Blade of Mercy-half, only to grasp the greatsword with both hands and prepare to carve a wide gash across her stomach.
Just a couple of meters to their right, Torquil delivered a third hit quick succession, generating an even bigger burst of lightning and wreathing Fulmen in an even more intense coat of voltaic energy. He heard what Ophelia shouted, but decided to ignore it for now; he was already counting the hits based on the instructions he had been given when he received Fulmen from Farren. He would likely do as he was told if Ophelia gave the word for him to discharge it, otherwise he would do it after the tenth hit... actually no, Farren had specifically told him to not discharge Fulmen if he got in ten or more hits. That bracket included ten, so nine was probably the limit; Ophelia was right. He resolved to pull the lever after nine hits.
Behind, having placed himself beside Arrayah's deformed hind body, Farren flayed their enemy across the back with the hefty, flaming threaded glaive. Smoke briefly rose from charred and cut flesh, but even now the abomination's immense regenerative powers appeared unabated and the damage healed nigh-instantly.

While all of this was happening, Arrayah's one big, glowing eye kept staring at the Moonborn Hunter... but that was not all. One of the smaller eyes began emitting its own azure glow and abruptly stopped rolling around randomly to instead fix itself on Torquil. A second small eye on the back of her head began glowing and locked in on Farren. And all through that, the remainder of her smaller eyes seemed to move around less and less frantically, as if calming down... and were slowly building an azure glow of their own.
Arrayah struck with the quickness of a viper. Both of her right hands gripped the handle of the Profane Abyssal Sword and executed a fast and immensely powerful downward thrust right as the Moonborn Hunter was winding up their attack. In a stroke of luck she missed the head again, but the blade of her sword hit the side of the Moonborn Hunter's left clavicle and continued down, practically splitting their torso in two all the way down to the waist before the Moonborn simply collapsed under the immense force being put on top of them and fell flat on the ground.
With her lone left hand she swung it wide from above and down onto Torquil's back, eliciting a cry of pain from him as she buried her sickle-like claws deep in his body. She effortlessly picked him up with her claws anchored in his body, only to whip her arm around and fling Torquil powerfully through the air, with a trajectory aimed for him to hit Farren directly.

Seeing this, Farren opted to step aside rather than try to catch the large flying man carrying an electrified hammer and focus on offense instead. For Torquil's part, this resulted in him hurdling another five meters past where Farren had been standing before crashing into the floor and half-rolling, half-sliding another three meters before coming to a stop. In the chaos process of this, the head of Fulmen incidentally impacted the floor, producing a sound like muffled thunder and leaving a scorch-mark at the point of impact. The scintillation of the hammer also intensified further, and Torquil felt the handle start to vibrate faintly.
Meanwhile Farren moved to attack Arrayah again, attempting to aim a strike with the threaded glaive at her face. Given that him placing himself opposite of where the Moonborn Hunter and Torquil, who had both been attacking from the front, had been meant that he was almost directly behind their opponent, however, actually hitting her face was highly unlikely to happen, but he managed to slash at the side and back of her head.
The glow in Arrayah's frenzied eyes intensified slightly, but the eyes that were now focused remained so and continued to watch individual targets. She violently withdrew her sword from where she had plunged it through the Moonborn Hunter and into the ground, producing a spray of blood and sending their ally from the Dream's sundered body rolling a good ten meters away, before turning around and once more charging straight at Farren.

Ophelia observed the goings-on with keen interest, noting that her passivity had caused Arrayah's eyes to not glow and focus on her or Gerlinde (who had kneeled down to do something with the little ones--handing off her modified cane). She wondered if either of them began to attack Arrayah, would it cause the eyes to focus on them too? Could the focus be removed somehow? She had many and more questions about how a thing like Arrayah might make decisions, but also how her blessed blade's counterpart did too. Mad as she was, and deeply obsessed, she would no doubt listen to the whispers and follow them... but her blade was full of wrath. Perhaps it was telling her who to strike down? Perhaps that was the glow and the focus at work.

Ophelia judged Torquil the more wounded of the two, and began sprinting towards him as he was picked up (and thus simply towards Arrayah) before veering off in the direction he was to be thrown as soon as she could intuit it. She had a blood vial at the ready and would use it on him if he seemed injured upon arrival. She also wanted to see if any other eyes might focus upon her once she presented as participating in the fight again, or if the focused eyes happened to catch sight of her blade.

"Fulmen hit the ground, so add one to your count." she whispered to him, too, making sure he factored that in. Fulmen did not care about what it hit to build charge, only that it did--and what it had done to the ground made Ophelia quite sure that letting it get to ten charges would be catastrophically bad. Not quite Paarl-bad, she supposed, but even his most minor electric shocks were things she could still feel sing in her nerves. She did not want to experience anything more potent.

_Farren

watched with muted satisfaction as his weapon scored its blow, burning and shearing away at flesh that knit itself back and mended in moments. That was to be expected, though the azure-eyed hunter even as he winced at the sight of Torquil’s tumble and the Moonborn’s evisceration. ‘Grisly,’ the thought struck him briefly, but he had no time to focus on that because the damned abomination turned and began to charge his way.

Farren’s eyes narrowed and he snapped the glaive back into its resting state, hoisting it into its sheath with one hand as he drew one of his blunderbusses, and then the other a mere instant after. Rather than dodge immediately, Farren gauged the distance, recalling when Arrayah had staggered previously. So, Farren briefly estimated the last moment he’d be able to avoid. When it came, he fired both blunderbusses and then entered a quickstep to the side opposite where Arrayah wielded her blade.

No, was the thought that immediately echoed through Torquil's mind, causing his mouth to go dry and his throat to constrict, though the discomfort of either was admittedly rather insignificant next to the pain of getting impaled and hurled through the air. He had used a blood vial just recently and had been at full regenerative potential, so he was fully healed when Ophelia got to him... though he could intuit that the damage he had just taken had probably pushed him nearly his limit. He probably needed blood to replenish his strength, or anything more severe than a superficial scrape would probably be enough to make his accelerated healing fail.
But that was not even the issue bothering him. “Fulmen hit the ground, so add one to the count,” Ophelia had said, which only stressed the fact he could plainly feel himself. He could easily tell from the way it vibrated now and how it was sparking more than ever that Fulmen had built more charge... but that also opened up a lot of questions. If Fulmen built charge from hitting anything, even inanimate matter like the floor, did that mean it had built charge when he hit the wall back in the Hunter's Dream? How long did it take for that charge to dissipate? Did it ever? Could he be sure that the hammer had only impacted the floor once just now, or was it possible that it had hit multiple times?
His count of hits so far suddenly seemed worthless, as the number he arrived at was only the minimum. It was quite possible... no, it was downright probable that he had already exceeded ten hits. There was no way to tell other than counting, after all; not unless you were familiar with the signs of different levels of charge. Did feeling the vibration start at the seventh hit? Eighth? Tenth? He had no idea.

A fair distance away – though considering the events transpiring it was far too close – Arrayah rushed straight at Farren, only to receive another dual blast from his blunderbusses. But unlike the first time when Farren had successfully disabled her for a moment, this time the monster did not even try to use her sword. Rather than empowering herself with the Old Blood in her veins to deliver a swift strike, this time her move was merely to try to trample him with her sheer mass and momentum. Without her accessing the power of the Old Blood the quicksilver had nothing to disrupt, and so she did not even flinch as she was hit by the barrage of projectiles.
Arrayah did not slow down even as Farren quickstepped aside in the last moment, but instead started making a wide turn to circle back and attempt to rush him a second time.

Off in the distance the Moonborn Hunter stood back up – their body and, remarkably, clothes fully healed despite the horrendous damage they had just received – and jogged over to retrieve Farren's Bulwark where it had slipped from their grip when they had been impaled and flattened, and then started closing the distance to where Farren was facing off with their adversary where they joined him in waiting for her.
About at the same time Gerlinde let out a gleeful giggle and bounced up from where she had been crouched, landing on her feet and turning her gaze toward Arrayah. Now that she had finished her business with the Messengers, Gerlinde had switched her threaded cane for a currently folded saw spear, and now carried a flamesprayer in her left hand. Armed thusly, she also moved to join the fray; once Arrayah got into range again she would start firing her flamesprayer continuously.

Licking his lips, Torquil spent a couple of seconds just staring indecisively at Arrayah rumbling her way across the cavern, her weird many-limbed hindbody curving sideways as it trailed behind her. He could feel the ground tremble under his feet, and he could feel Fulmen shaking in his hand... as if it was responding to the tremors, or was just eager to meet something as thunderous as itself.
What was he going to do? His first inclination was to stow away Fulmen and switch back to his Hunter's axe, since he could not be sure how many hits it had stored up now. But when he thought about how many times they had already hit Arrayah, how much damage they had done and how it barely seemed to faze her at all. And not only did she not seem weakened at all, he also recalled how Ophelia had mentioned Arrayah's Profane Abyssal Sword possibly transforming and manifesting new abilities, none of which they had seen yet. So far, aside from showing off just how overpoweringly superior she was to all of them by dominating them with blazing speed and monstrous strength... she had not done much. Ophelia's stated goal for them coming here was to push Arrayah to demonstrate her abilities so they could learn for next time they fought her. And evidently they were not pushing hard enough.
He looked down at the lever on the handle of Fulmen, and swallowed nervously. What would even happen when he pulled it? Would it just deplete all of its energy at once into something touching the head of the hammer? Would it discharge as a bolt of lightning that could hit a target from afar? Or maybe it would just unleash chaotic electricity everywhere, like an explosion. Yet another thing he did not know, and this he concluded that the only way to make sure he did not waste this charge was to trigger the discharge at point-blank range.

Torquil's left hand quickly retrieved a blood vial from his pouch and injected him with it, replenishing his spent regenerative potential; he had a feeling he was going to need it. His right hand gripped the handle of the hammer tightly.
And he ran forward, grasping the bizarre hammer sputtering and sparking with both hands as he moved toward where everyone else were about to clash with Arrayah.

Ophelia could see plainly the confusion on Torquil's face, the racing of thoughts behind his frantic and searching eyes. It was almost unusual, given how he'd been so eager to simply follow without considering... but given the face he now wore, and the experiences they'd had, it would be a miracle to come out unchanged. She supposed this was evolution, the kind that the School of Mensis' teachings--and thus the whispers of her mentors--had impressed upon her were the next step for humanity. Ophelia didn't know how much she believed that, that this was or should be the destiny of all, but Torquil's growth was something she found very pleasing. She wanted what was best for him, truly, and he was now getting to the point of earnestly being able to make that decision for himself.

"Just discharge Fulmen, dear. We need to know what happens." She said hurriedly while he prepared and then injected himself with a blood vial. She could sense that he was eager, that the Old Blood ran hot within him and needed release--the kind that was only achieved through the visceral acts of violence only Hunters ever truly experienced. Looking at the Shopkeeper, she wondered how much of that feeling they must have glutted themselves on in their many lives to have suffered such an awful blow and still been able to retaliate with such determination and fury... in fact, it struck her in that moment that she was perhaps the only not not utterly consumed by bloodlust at that moment in time. She wondered what sort of Hunter she'd been if the Holy Moonlight Sword hadn't chosen her, how different their lives and experiences would have been if she'd only had the fire in her blood to guide her rather than all the lights of the Cosmos.

She watched Torquil rocket off towards Arrayah with great speed and circled around herself to get a better vantage point and be able to observe Arrayah more closely. To the best of her knowledge she was still the only one whom one of Arrayah's eyes was not focused on - which struck her as odd, given how desperately the Profane Abyssal Blade must have called out for the beast to wrest Ophelia's blade and make them whole. She remembered well the intensity with which her serene blade called for it--and had to figure that the Profane blade's call was even harder to resist. She made a note to try and discern how much of the tactics at hand were Arrayah's and how much the blade whispering to her--a difficult proposition, given her lack of ability to read minds, but she would try her best to intuit as much as she could.

_Farren

had only narrowly evaded, and was glad that he’d had the sense to plan ahead a step or so in case of failure. Seeing the lack of a stagger gave him additional data that he had a feeling applied generally to the various foes they might face during what was turning out to be an exceptionally long night of the hunt. There seemed to be some difference between a deliberate attack and whatever Arrayah was doing–throwing around her sheer mass, he supposed.

When she’d thrown her weapon–and when others had done similarly, be they natural weapons or not–an interruption with a well timed blast of quicksilver seemed to be effective. Farren had no idea what the precise mechanism was, of course, but in the moment it mattered little. Having already shifted into the motion, the Azure-eyed hunter reloaded one of his two blunderbusses before Arrayah had fully wheeled around to charge once more. He didn’t risk the second, letting them fall into their hooks as he withdrew the Beastflayer from its place on his back and brandished it, sliding one foot back as if he were bracing himself.

Around the same time he caught the silhouette of the Moonborn approaching on his right, and heard more than saw the approach of Gerlinde more or less from behind him. He even noted the running steps of Torquil some distance away behind him, along with the telltale electrical hum and crackle of Fulmen. This last bit along with Ophelia’s words told him precisely what they ought to do.

“Hit then run. Torquil's coming in with Fulmen.” Farren said, then he pushed into a quickstep. This time he met Arrayah, charged forth at her, but as he got close he cut at an angle into a second quickstep, going low and out to the right in a wide arc, swinging and extending the Beastflayer mid-motion. This would have it hopefully cut into her side, and then extend into a lengthy dragging slash as each segment caught in her and pulled with his continued momentum, cutting deeper and keeping the wound open longer.

For a couple of seconds Torquil actually slowed his stride toward Arrayah, deeply confused by what Ophelia had just told him. “Just discharge Fulmen, dear. We need to know what happens,” she had said, which seemed to suggest a different course of action than he was already aiming for. The inclusion of the word “just” seemed to suggest that he should disregard other conditions, and discharge the voltaic hammer now rather than when he was at point-blank range of their enemy as he had intended. Initially that seemed like a waste to him, but he was sufficiently convinced of Ophelia's wisdom and good judgment to assume that his own plan was wrong and start to rationalize his interpretation of her plan.
It was true that there were a lot of unknowns with Fulmen right now – he had just pondered that himself, after all – , and that discharging it under circumstances with as few variables as possible would probably yield the most useful information. Even he understood that much. And while unleashing all that energy potentially at nothing seemed like a waste, it had also turned out that recharging it could be done rather easily. He could just discharge it to see what happened and then hit a rock, or even just the ground, nine times to fully charge it again. It would take time that he was not sure they had, and repeatedly hitting stone like that was bound to degrade Fulmen's durability considerably... but maybe it was worth it? Particularly since he was so unsure how many hits worth of energy he had stored right now. It was not what he would have done, but if Ophelia suggested it, it must be the smartest move somehow.
But then he glanced back at her and realized that she was not looking at him, but was quite pointedly staring straight at Arrayah, which made him second-guess his interpretation all over again. Maybe she did mean for him to discharge it at Arrayah? It was still incredibly ambiguous, with her words downright suggesting to disregard their adversary and her somatic language being so subtle. It could just as easily be her simply observing Arrayah, as she had since the start of the battle, as it could her indirectly trying to tell him to attack her. He wished she had been more clear in her instructions, like telling him where to discharge Fulmen in words or even just pointing as she spoke, but with things as hectic as they were and time being a valuable commodity in the midst of battle, he did not really want to waste precious seconds asking for clarification.
Thus Torquil decided that since Ophelia's instructions were ambiguous, he would stick with his original plan. He had meant to discharge Fulmen anyway, so he was doing as he was told; he was just going to do it directly adjacent to the rampaging monster if possible. She could scold him later if he was wrong.

Up ahead, Farren, Gerlinde and the Moonborn Hunter all prepared for Arrayah to finish her wide turn and come rushing back. Farren offered his instructions and then started moving, with the two others immediately following in formation. While Farren went right, the Moonborn Hunter darted left and readied their Bulwark for a slash across the opposite side of the mutant's body. Unlike Farren, who intended to simply do as much superficial damage and shed as much blood as possible, the Moonborn – drawing upon the experience of countless lifetimes of studies and battles, and realizing from Farren's words that they were to try to create a window of opportunity for Torquil – meant specifically to cut as deep into the side of the torso as possible. They knew from experience that cutting a bone altered by the Old Blood was all but impossible, which was why it was so incredibly rare for beasts and Hunters to be dismembered... but they were not aiming for bone. Though Arrayah hardly resembled a human anymore and injuring her “legs” would be a fool's errand, her torso did seem to mostly maintain its original structure. They knew that if they could severely damage as many abdominal muscles as possible, ideally not just the ones at the sides, but in the front and back as well, remaining stable while erect would become borderline impossible. It was a gamble since Farren did not aim to cut deep and thus probably would not do much damage to those muscles, if any at all... but the Moonborn Hunter did not know that. They moved to hopefully knock Arrayah down, and that was that.

Gerlinde also heard Farren's words, observed his and the Moonborn Hunter's movements, and began to rapidly evaluate how to best contribute. Her usual mode of operation was simply to do as much superficial damage as possible, similar to what Farren was currently aiming to do, but in the current situation she wondered if something a bit more clever was not called for. With the two others charging ahead into melee range, and particularly with Farren abandoning his guns in favor of his Beastflayer, not only were they putting themselves in danger since Arrayah could just turn slightly left or right to trample one of them... she could also swipe at both of them since the threat of being gun-parried was no longer a factor. Truth be told Gerlinde very much doubted that Arrayah's addled mind was intelligent enough to identify those conditions, but then again Gerlinde herself was rather addled, and she was thinking it. And they did know that Arrayah was at least smart enough to use Caryll Runes. The fact that she was trying to trample Farren now could be in response to her being staggered by gunfire when she had tried to rush and attack him at the beginning of the battle... or it could just be the random actions of a mad blood-crazed creature.
Ultimately Gerlinde decided to err on the side of getting the best of both worlds and, with wide eyes and a wider grin, charged directly at Arrayah... only to, when she was a mere couple of meters away, let loose a gout of fire from her flamesprayer up and aimed directly at the monster's head. Even if her eyes managed to get through the conflagration intact, simply being engulfed in flames would at least obstruct her vision for an instant. Hopefully that instant would be enough.

And so, everything happened all at once: Gerlinde blinded Arrayah's many eyes and burned her face, only to get promptly and brutally thrown to the ground and trampled by the massive creature, disappearing under its form. In this moment of vulnerability, Farren carved Arrayah's left side and the Moonborn Hunter cleaved deep into her right, all while each of them slipped narrowly past her form.
Letting out a horrid wail, Arrayah clutched her face and wobbled, knocked out of balance even as her wounds kept closing rapidly. She awkwardly came to a halt as her torso drooped to her right, struggling to remain upright until her muscles had reconstituted. It was a brief opening, not even enough to be considered a stagger and far from enough that any of them would feel the instinctive urge to visceral attack her... but for Torquil, it was just enough.

Fortuitously arriving at just about the perfect moment, Torquil – against his better judgment – closed the distance and initiated his attack with a two-handed swing of Fulmen aimed straight at the left side of Arrayah's lowered head. It was a solid blow combined with a now significant amount of electrical energy that seemed to stun her for just a fraction of a second longer, but her sheer size was enough that her head absorbed all the kinetic energy and brought the hammer to a complete stop, directly adjacent to her head.
And then Torquil pulled the trigger.
The eight segments of the hammerhead separated and shifted outward, revealing the naked core inside... and for about half a second, nothing seemed to happen. Fulmen stopped vibrating, the electrical sparks ceased, and for all intents and purposes it seemed completely inert, as if all that energy had just spontaneously vanished. But during this brief instant of near-tranquility amidst the chaos, a faint bluish glow filled the air between the exposed core of Fulmen and Arrayah's head, which rapidly intensified... until it culminated in a blindingly white flash that turned the entire world into nothing but white light and black shadow, accompanied by the sound of a muffled clap of thunder that rolled and echoed through the cavernous chamber.

It would take a second for anyone to be able to see or hear properly again even with their accelerated healing, but when they could they would find Arrayah laying on her right side, completely toppled over. Her limbs – both her main arms and the multitude of assorted limbs on her hind body – twitched spasmodically, seemingly paralyzed for the moment, while black smoke billowed off her head. The flesh looked to be seared on the entire left side of her head with a lot of it downright missing, and many of the eyes that had been there – including the largest one – looking blind and cooked, with several having actually burst. None of them, nor the one on the right side of her head, were glowing anymore; they had grown entirely dark and dull.
But even know her flesh kept knitting itself back together at an astounding rate. Laid-bare facial muscles shed their scorched parts and reformed themselves, skin spread to cover the wound, and even punctured eyes seemed to reseal their exteriors and refill with fluid. Arrayah was quite clearly not dead, though this had quite obviously done a significant amount of damage and left her dazed and very vulnerable for several seconds.

Remarkably, Torquil looked to have gotten through the ordeal unscathed aside from the blood running down the sides of his head from his ears. He looked rather stunned himself, though it was more out of surprise than because he had taken damage, and he reflexively held the trigger to keep Fulmen in its transformed state. This allowed anyone who cared to check to notice that the core of Fulmen was quite blatantly giving off a red glow and that a quite noticeable haze of heat was rising off it. It appeared to be intact... but also very hot, to the point where Farren in particular would likely recognize that the metal would be rendered quite a bit more fragile than normal.

Time seemed to slow as Torquil approached Arrayah to unleash his attack - and Ophelia watched it all with a rapturous intensity, eager to see exactly what unleashing Fulmen with its current charge would do. She could feel the anticipation building within her as he moved and as he activated the mechanism, only for a brief moment of trepidation to overcome her as nothing happened for the first instant. She saw the actinic glow begin to build immediately thereafter and her spirits rose once more, reminded of what Paarl had done to the Moonborn, only this wasn't quite that powerful. Still--to capture even the barest fraction of that incredible power in a tool that they could wield reminded her that the relics and fragments of otherworldly beings they sought after with such voraciousness and avarice were not the only path to power, and that the hands of man could perhaps one day approach that power without fundamentally altering themselves as so many had done to channel the power of the cosmos.

When the explosion happened Ophelia was staring directly at it, shocked and awed, and surely some of her untapped regenerative potential went to ameliorating that damage--as well as the damage to her ears that the thunderclap would no doubt do. She was so focused that the sensations seemed distant, any blindness to do with the intensity of the light rather than any damage looking at it might have done, and as she regained use of her faculties her mind sprang back into action like a coiled spring unleashed.

"Farren, disarm her!" She shouted as loudly as she could, hoping it would reach him in the very brief window of time they had to take advantage of this moment of potential. Winning was not killing Arrayah, but liberating the blade she wielded--if they had a chance to do so now, for Ophelia to take possession and bend the presence within to her will, well... she would take it. The Moonborn Hunter, this aspect of them at least, would no doubt seek to take advantage of the opening and do a tremendous amount of damage. That, combined with what Fulmen and Torquil had done, had Ophelia imagining that Arrayah might well be forced to transform the Profane Abyssal Blade... and if she were disarmed of it, that would be a very good thing for them indeed. It probably wouldn't work, that much she knew, but she would regret not at least trying. As she spoke she quickstepped laterally towards Farren's position at maximum distance, which would hopefully allow her to rush in and grab the blade if they did manage to wrest it from their foe, but also put her in a more advantageous position to assist with whatever happened next if not.

_Farren

was blinded and deafened by the blast, as expected, the light making him shut his eyes and wince as a brief, sharp, profound pain hit him, striking deep into his skull before becoming an ache that rapidly began to ebb. He turned to see the damage and couldn’t help but smile even as he wheeled about towards her and then quickstepped in, already preparing for a close range strike with the Beastflayer in its closed, glaive form.

Ophelia’s voice rang out mid-quickstep and a grim determination set in. Farren shifted his target slightly, noticing the red glow of intense heat from within Fulmen. He knew immediately it would be more fragile in that state…and the core was difficult enough to damage already, by his estimation. It likely wasn’t safe to strike with, especially while it was still open. “Torquil, withdraw!”

Farren didn’t want to risk damage to the prototype, but there wasn’t time for further words, he’d closed the distance, and now it was time to strike. Already swinging, Farren’s blade at an odd angle, not to sheer away at the limb. The bones would be too durable, especially in a beast this taken by the Old Blood–and so large besides–so instead he had nearly aligned the Beastflayer with the direction of the Profane Blade’s length and driven it in a sweeping strike meant to damage fingers and apply sufficient force that the hand would loosen, or even be pushed off the end of the grip of the massive weapon. Given that he’d begun the motion mid-quickstep, he’d had a moment to focus, and it would be a Heavy Strike, rather than a more glancing, swift blow.

Mispost

Farren's strikes slashed and chopped into the outsides of Arrayah's clutching fingers, carving the flesh and tendons but barely marking the bones. But though tendons were damaged and perhaps even entirely severed, those were only the extensor tendons; the ones responsible for extending the fingers, whereas the tensor tendons – responsible for bending the finger to clench a fist or grasp something – were on the inside of the fingers. Though he inflicted some measure of harm on her and shed a small amount of blood, attacking her fingers like this was far from enough to force the Profane Abyssal Blade from from her hand. Even stunned, dazed and all but incapacitated as she was, the monster appeared to hold on to her sword with manic zeal, motivated by a desperate desire that went beyond her conscious mind to never let go of her weapon.

Beside Farren, Torquil awkwardly shuffled backward as he had been instructed, looking uncertainly from the superheated Fulmen to Arrayah's prone form. He did not understand why he was to withdraw; this seemed like the perfect opportunity to press their advantage, did it not? To attack her with everything they had while she was harmless and vulnerable.
The fact that Fulmen was running hot was not lost on Torquil, though his thoughts were not at all about how this would make it more fragile, but rather that the sheer heat of it would make it a more effective weapon. They had already witnessed and confirmed that fire affected this beast, so surely a hunk of red-hot metal was going to hurt her a lot. And even if Farren for some reason did not want Torquil to use Fulmen while it was like this, surely he could just swap it for the Hunter's axe hanging on his hip, could he not? But he had been instructed to withdraw, and so he withdrew; just as with Ophelia before, Torquil readily assumed that Farren knew better than himself and happily set aside his own lesser judgment to do as he was told by those more intelligent than himself.

A short distance in front of Farren and to his left, behind Arrayah's prone torso and lolling head, the Moonborn Hunter took the opportunity to quickstep up to the back of her head. There the masked warrior of the Dream lowered their weapon and, spreading their feet in a wide, firm stance, raised their free left hand. They had just a split-second to register that gloved hand subtly transforming, growing slightly larger, its fingers elongating and becoming tipped with what looked like bestial claws... and then it plunged its arm, all the way up to the elbow, into the back of Arrayah's head, right at the base of her skull. They withdrew their hand and elicited a deluge of blood from the wound they had just caused, along with a tremor going through Arrayah's entire body.

Further away, about three meters from where the creature's semi-humanoid torso transitioned into its alien hind body, another puddle of blood rapidly spread out. In the unlikely case that Farren took the time to listen carefully, he might even be able to catch the faint sound of someone sawing flesh.

But even with all of that, the burns on Arrayah's face still regenerated, and their window of opportunity closed. As the giant eye among the multitude seemed to inflate from within the socket, marking the completion of her recovery, every single one of her eyes seemed to abruptly stiffen, then swivel in unison to stare directly at Farren. The hand holding the Profane Abssyal Blade moved away from him as she clutched it possessively to her chest, and her two other arms both went to shield the sword as well.
All of her eyes – not just some of them as before, but every single one – lit up with an inner azure radiance, and the monster jolted upright with what sounded like a canine whine. Something was obviously different than before; the way she moved seemed much more... human, in the lack of a better term, than before. More deliberate and less bestial. Her eyes were no longer moving around erratically or each looking at a different target, but now seemed to move under the influence of a single will, focusing at one thing at a time. And as soon as she got herself upright again, Arrayah – still hugging her weapon to her chest protectively – her attention shifted to the central column of the cavern.

Ignoring the Hunters and any attacks they might aim at her, their adversary appeared to simply flee, rushing toward the distant center of this vast space they were in. They all would have a while to recover from their tribulations – among other things, Gerlinde emerged as Arrayah moved, drenched in blood but still smiling, and stood back up – while the monster moved.
It took around ten seconds for her to reach the base of the column, after which Arrayah, like a snake climbing a tree, started corkscrewing her way up the length of the stone structure, with her hind body bending to wrap around its curvature while she ascended. The attentive among them might even notice that the way her hind body did this seemed to coincide with, and take advantage of, the screw-like thread of the pillar.

While Arrayah climbed she also spoke, though it was still in that foreign language of hers... but as she spoke, the whispers translated. For the first time not only Ophelia, but all of the Hunters heard the whispers of the Holy Moonlight Sword in their heads; and for the first time for all of them, including Ophelia, it was accompanied by a second voice that overlapped with the whisper. A deeper, more assertive and more masculine voice to contrast the soothing, relatively feminine voice Ophelia was used to hearing.
“Please! No! The memories!” the voices seemed to translate Arrayah's rambling. “My mind is clearing! I do not want this! Please, let me forget! Take away these thoughts! Bring back the silence!”
Arrayah only stopped after corkscrewing upward for another fifteen seconds or so, upon which she seemed to simply sit on the side of the column some ten meters above floor-level. There she finally withdrew her arms from her chest and held out her sword in front of her again. She seemed almost as though she had entirely forgotten about the Hunters she had been locked in mortal combat with until just moments ago, her gaze now focused entirely on the weapon in her hand. Her clawed left hand went to the tip of the leaf-shaped blade, and slowly moved down its length in a reverent caress. And as she did, the darkness that dominated the chamber seemed to stir.

“Teacher... please return the veil over my eyes,” the voices translated. “Remind me of your beautiful lies.”

The shadows suddenly seemed to shift and congregate around Arrayah, momentarily obscuring her form. But the gloom was not meant for her; the inky blackness continued to condense, settling into the sword in her hand. Though the shape of the blade was maintained, its features now turned uniform pitch-black, like a silhouette that seemed to greedily devour all light that touched it; looking at it was like staring into the void itself. But not only did the blade seem to become infused with this abyssal darkness, it also seemed to travel down the hilt of it... and then keep going. The handle of the sword appeared to elongate, extending several times the length of the entire weapon, until it was over four meters long, turning what had once been a gladius into something that was more akin to a hewing spear... or, perhaps more fittingly, a sword-staff.

“Huntress...” This time only Ophelia heard the voice in her head, and she only heard the familiar whispers of the Holy Moonlight Sword. It was no longer a translation, but the words of the whispers themselves: “Both the Holy Moonlight Sword and the Profane Abyssal Blade are awakened... the time has come. Let the two halves touch... and incant the words 'Gestalt Truth'... and you shall wield it made whole. As the one true champion.”
Above, Arrayah's gaze grew distant for a moment, as if listening to something only she could hear... and then her eyes abruptly shifted to fix on Ophelia. On the Holy Moonlight Sword. And she grasped the transformed Profane Abyssal Blade with all three hands.

Ophelia watched as their gambit failed--expectedly, she supposed, for she too would do anything to keep her blessed blade close and the depths of desperation offered a profound well of strength. A well she supposed she would have to tap into soon, for Arrayah showed no signs of slowing down or even being defeated by the incredible force they'd levied against her so far. When she finally arose and slithered off frantically Ophelia caught sight of a seemingly-renewed Gerlinde from underneath Arrayah's form and made a note to check in on her, but turned her attention to Torquil in the moment, having witnessed his strike be interrupted by Farren.

"Fulmen will break if used while hot, love. Needs to cool; switch to your axe 'til then." she spoke, giving him an earnest smile. He really had impressed her in this fight, not only with his outrageous strength and skilful wielding of Fulmen, but how he appeared to be thinking more and more for himself. How much he'd grown, why... she was full to the brim with pride, like getting to watch a once-sickly flower bloom, or a dim sky become illuminated by the first hints of the waxing crescent moon. She gave Gerlinde another look for a couple of seconds before assessing that she was fine and must have sorted herself out, and then turned to Farren.

"This is it. Protect me at all costs, kill me if you have to. She cannot claim my half," she spoke hurriedly, about to continue, before the Holy Moonlight Sword's whispers made themselves known and translated Arrayah's rambling. At first she assumed only for herself, but the dawn of recognition on the others' faces would no doubt reveal to her that her blade was speaking to them, too... even through the shielding power of the Mask rune. The forces they toyed with... they were far greater than Ophelia had ever envisioned, and they were now well and truly embroiled in it. The power waiting for her... the knowledge... she needed it more than she'd ever needed anything before. To reunite serenity with wrath and truth with lies, to complete the aching void within her and restore balance to the benighted world.

"Mother Moon preserve us, and shroud us in her light..." Ophelia spoke as she witnessed the transformation, and though it was starkly different to her own blade something about it felt familiar, and awoke in her a yearning whose vastness was such that she could not tell where the Holy Moonlight Sword's quivering feelings began and she ended--they were simply one now, committed to the task at hand. She treasured the whispers of the incantation needed to unite the blades and steeled herself. She put the blood vial away to grip her blade with two hands in contrast to Arrayah's three, and readied herself. She tapped into whatever reserves of focus she had that had yet gone unused, and coiled her muscles like a spring waiting to be unleashed at a moment's notice. She readied herself to take evasive action and for the others to rally to her, every sense she had trained on Arrayah. She'd learned a little of Arrayah's bestial instincts by observing, but this version of her seemed... something else. She was not sure what to expect, but that this form was even stronger and faster than what had come before. She knew that she would have to react even sooner than she ever had, for even quickstepping was not enough to outpace Arrayah--she had to act before the strike had even begun to have a hope of dodging it, and dodging was all she could do against her profane foe.

_Farren

cursed under his breath at the lack of results from his attack. He observed the Moonborn’s visceral strike, and the faint sawing noise that seemed to be coming from somewhere beneath Arrayah–surely that was Gerlinde. Then the damned creature began to recover, withdrawing its arm. Farren cursed again and jumped back, not in a dash, but just for a bit more distance as he whipped his weapon, lashing the beast even as it suddenly began to retreat towards the far off center of the massive room.

Then the voices, the whispers. Farren glanced about and it seemed he wasn’t the only one hearing them. Still…it unsettled him, it felt…wrong…too similar to a violation. An involuntary shudder went through him and he narrowed his eyes, wetting his lips as he saw Arrayah massive almost centipedal body spiralling up the pillar. “That bodes well,” remarked the Azure-eyed hunter with a displeased annoyance…and then the Profane Blade began to change, shadows congregating, as if drawn toward its form.

“Scourge…” Farren muttered, something of a swear as well, but this time intelligible. He glanced at Ophelia then back to Arrayah. Well…if they failed, they could come back better prepared, but Arrayah did seem to learn somewhat from their encounters, she wasn’t wholly mindless…and seemed even less so now if the strange speech was anything to go by.

Farren snapped the Beastflayer back into its base state and shifted almost nervously, unsure if she would leap from a great height and plummet down at them…or if she would remain perched, forcing them to find a way to topple her from the structure. Neither was pleasant, but he’d much prefer the former to the latter. Farren, keeping his eyes on Arrayah, took a handful of moments to reload his spent blunderbusses with quicksilver bullets before replacing them in their respective locations on his body.

He glanced one last time to Ophelia, then gripped the Beastflayer more firmly and steeled himself for whatever fresh hell Arrayah was intent to send their way next.

Nodding his head grimly, Torquil quickly used his left hand to retrieve the Hunter's axe from his hip and then awkwardly tried to fit Fulmen's handle into the same loop, though it quickly became apparent that the longer and more elaborate handle of the hammer made it significantly more cumbersome to store like that. Luckily the situation afforded him time to change his mind, and he instead tried copying what he had seen Farren and Gerlinde do before and called the Messengers to give Fulmen for safekeeping instead.
Once the prototype weapon was out of the way he quickly transformed axe, extending its telescoping handle and grasping it with both hands. He did not understand what was happening at all, but even he knew enough to realize that the battle not only was not over, but that the hardest part was yet to come.

The Moonborn Hunter and Gerlinde spread out to the right and left of their formation, respectively; both of them were experienced enough to conclude that staying in a tight grouping while up against a powerful opponent like this was potentially a bad idea. Neither of them made any further moves for the time being, however; at this distance, neither of them had any good means of attacking their adversary.

Still clinging to the side of the column, high up enough to be partially cast in natural shadows, the only parts they could all see clearly were Arrayah's glowing eyes, out of which only the single obscenely oversized eye was large enough for them to interpret where she was looking. She sat there without moving for another couple of seconds as her gaze left Ophelia and shifted to Farren, then to the Moonborn Hunter, then to Torquil and finally to Gerlinde. Her eye returned to stare at Ophelia again... and then shifted back to Torquil.
Arrayah let go of the Profane Abyssal Blade with her left hand, only to move it to her own chest and rake her claws across her own skin, shedding her own blood from wounds that regenerated as quickly as they were inflicted. Then her left hand returned to the handle of her newly awakened arcane spear... and somehow the darkness around her seemed to deepen slightly.
Then, quick as a viper, she thrust the spear into the column she was sitting on. Only, it did not seem like she had actually plunged the weapon into something made of solid rock. There was no sound of impact and no sign of resistance; it almost seemed as though the blade and topmost third of the handle of the sword-staff pierced the stone effortlessly.

At precisely the same time as she did this, however, they all heard a cry of pain that immediately turned into a gurgle, accompanied by the sound of the carving of flesh. Looking toward the sound, Ophelia and Farren would find that Torquil was suddenly being held aloft with his feet dangling about half a meter over the floor, as a three meter long pure black blade seemed to have emerged from the floor immediately behind him, impaling him through the back and and chest.
Half a second later this giant blade withdrew back into the floor from whence it came, which coincided perfectly with Arrayah pulling her weapon from the column, which notably did not seem to leave any mark in the stone. Torquil collapsed onto the floor, coughing violently and bleeding profusely.

_Farren

had readied himself perhaps for a leaping strike, a thunderous descent followed perhaps by a shockwave or even some hellish release of grasping, tearing shadows, but instead…Arrayah simply remained where she was.

Unsure if she would remain, but having a sense he might need some range, Farren took to one knee as he noted Torquil doing much the same. He murmured to the Messengers and they soon came. He handed off one of his blunderbusses–the one he’d been wearing at his back and retrieved the Piercing Rifle, swiftly loading it with a quicksilver bullet as he kept his eyes on Arrayah.

Then, just as he was going to put the rifle in the sling at his back, it happened: Arrayah moved. He watched as she drew the spear across her own flesh before thrusting it into the spire she was clinging to. Yet, there was no sound of blade upon stone, no grating noise, no spark of contact, no resistance or recoil in her body--though he could barely see her silhouette. For a moment, Farren thought he was simply missing something, and he was, but he could not have been more wrong about what it may have been.

A harsh cry of pain that cut off into the terrible noise of pooling blood, breathless, wet gurgling, and pained groans hit his ears and Farren’s azure eyes shifted in their direction. His eyes widened and he felt his gorge rise before it stuck and became less a reaction of disgust and more one of horrific realization. That bile which had risen in his throat, burning, became a rough knot of tension.

“Fuck,” the word came out rough and especially crude. Farren swiftly switched tact, holstering the Beastflayer at his back as he kept the Piercing rifle in hand. He didn’t take sights and fire though, there would be no point, he’d have to wait for an opportunity, but in this case…waiting did not mean standing still. “Move!” he yelled out to the others as he darted forwards, not in a quickstep, but in a continuous mid-speed run almost towards the spire at a slight leftwards diagonal. As he moved, his faintly luminescent eyes locked on Arrayah, searching for any sign of movement.

The moment he saw her moving--perhaps drawing the blade across her body, he wasn't certain due to the murk--before she began to thrust, he’d aim and fire, hoping that perhaps a well placed shot in that one large glowing eye might serve to interrupt her similar to how the blunderbusses had when she’d charged.

Ophelia's vigil over Arrayah's movements--what she could make out of them owing to the increased darkness, at least--had borne some fruit as she witnessed the first half of the attack that Arrayah had made. Her eyebrows furrowed and her pulse quickened as the expected sound of metal hitting stone simply did not come, and for the briefest instant she wondered if that too were another layer of illusion before concluding it could not be owing to the Mask rune, but her attention was instead directed to Torquil behind her who had been impaled by the very same length of blade that had disappeared in the shadows surrounding the pillar Arrayah was curled upon. Ophelia was already primed for action and quickstepped over to Torquil, withdrawing the blood vial she'd stowed recently during the motion, and would immediately stab it into him while her stance shifted and her neck craned to ensure she could keep Arrayah in her vision.

She pondered in that brief window of time whether the Holy Moonlight Sword gave her any resistance to the arcane (something she had not yet really been able to test, owing to a lack of foes that had summoned its power against her while she'd been wielding it) or whether that was simply something inherent to Arrayah herself. She wondered whether that immunity had faded now, and whether the light of her own blade would be sufficient to counteract the deepened darkness of the shadows that had gathered since Arrayah awakened her half of Ophelia's blade. She could test the resistance easily enough, but did not want to waste the motion until Arrayah had attacked again--in this empowered state, Ophelia wasn't certain if even a single hit might remove her from the fight with her frail constitution. She decided she would have to wait until Arrayah had just made another attack, as there seemed to be some amount of a wind-up necessary before she could strike from a distance. She ignored Farren's directive to run, hoping to bait such an attack on herself (knowing that her now rather exceptional endurance and lack of battle fatigue would likely give her the best chance of both dodging and capitalising on the movement), but urged Torquil to spring into action with a quick "Go!" while she stayed trained on Arrayah and coiled like a spring. She considered moving over to one of the eerie sconces on the wall, figuring that having no source of shadow nearby with which to allow a weapon to pass through might be beneficial in dodging it (or seeing it coming enough to dodge)... but that could wait until after she measured Arrayah's resistance to her blade's destructive blasts. Even through the effects of the Mask rune she made her will known to her blade, asking it whether it had any more insights into what they faced now that it was so close to its awakened twin... and waited for a response while she focused intently upon Arrayah, ready to quickstep as the blade began to plunge into shadow or to avoid a different attack as best as she could with limited information.

Torquil groaned in the breaks between his coughs, trying his best to endure the bizarre mix of sensations – each agonizing in its own way – that was the severe damage he had just taken, the feeling of his sundered lungs filling with fluid, and of his flesh and organs rapidly knitting themselves back together. He could tell that repairing a wound this severe was draining his strength a great deal and was grateful to find that Ophelia had more initiative than himself and injected him with a blood vial to replenish it.
At this point Torquil had suffered quite a few different wounds during this single unbelievably traumatic night, up to and including being outright killed several times. While this was hardly made for what one might call a pleasant experience, he also found that the more he got hurt, the more he started recognizing the feeling of different kinds of damage. He had been cut and stabbed before, but the blade that had just impaled him felt different... in fact, thinking back, the last wound he had taken that felt anything like it was when he had been stabbed by the white apparition in the Hunter's Dream.
“The blade coming out of the floor...” he told Ophelia breathlessly while he struggled to rise from his knees and his wounds finished regenerating, “It's... not normal. Felt like the ghost's dagger, but stronger.” He had no idea what to make of that observation, but he hoped it would somehow be useful to Ophelia. Then he picked his axe back up and set off in a jog, following Farren's example and heading straight for the central column.

The Moonborn Hunter also charged straight at the column while Gerlinde ran straight to the left, moving clockwise around the circular cavern while remaining roughly equidistant to the middle. And throughout it all Arrayah just sat on her high perch, seemingly not doing anything while her glowing eyes shifted from one person to the next, watching the Hunters.
Only when the Moonborn Hunter and Farren had both made it nearly all the way to her column, now brightly lit by the torches mounted at its base and casting long, black shadows across the chamber, did the monster move again, though her movement was not to repeat her strange ranged attack. Rather she started skittering across the column again, quickly switching to a different furrow into its surface and using it to corkscrew her way clockwise back down toward the floor.
“Twinkle, twinkle,” the dual voices inside everyone's heads translated Arrayah's foreign language, but while the translation was delivered in deadpan, they would all be able to hear that the original words were in singsong. “Pretty, pretty moonlight. So clean, so sweet. Twinkly, twinkly twinkle.”

As Arrayah's movements along the helix-pattern took her to the opposite side of the column the Moonborn stopped, turned to their right and extended their left arm. There was a familiar bluish flash as their arm abruptly dropped several centimeters under the sheer weight of what had just materialized on it: a literal arm-mounted cannon. They turned to their right and aimed the massive firearm to approximately where Arrayah's trajectory would have her reappear, ready to fire...
Only, rather than moving at a continuous pace, Arrayah paused just as her head peeked around the curve of the column, and her eyes all instantly homed in on the Moonborn. And before they, nor anyone else, could do anything, another oversized three-meter black blade emerged from the Moonborn's right and, just as it had with Torquil before, impaled them so severely that they were lifted off the floor.
Thus impaled, the Moonborn Hunter seemed to spasm for just a second... and then fade away, the same as when any of the other Paleblood Hunters were killed, taking Farren's Bulwark with them.
The black blade retreated back into the floor, and Arrayah continued her spiraling descent toward the floor.
“Twinkle, twinkle... pretty, pretty moonlight.”