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The old you would have skulked about and gathered more information on the battle, waiting for the opportune moment to strike even if it meant leaving innocents to the less than tender mercies of your foes. The old you also lived for the joys of sucking the lifeforce from a man's dick and shaping it into Seeds of Blasphemy that would birth more monsters into the material world. Through the seed of change her champion implanted within you, Dienoh scoured your soul clean of evil with the cleansing fires of a thousand simulated kalpa cycles, so the you of today does not care much for what the you of eleven hundred years ago might have done.
You will not allow innocents to come to harm.
Not when it is in your power to stop it.
So you spend no time beating around the bush and charge straight into the fray. Running low to the ground like a wild beast, your boots kick up a trail of dirt into the air behind you as they push off the ground, shooting you forward with speed enough to match a wild horse at full gallop. The billowing crimson of the <span class="mu-s"><span class="mu-r">[Red Maiden's Cloak]</span></span> leaves a streaking trail behind you like the trail of flame a comet leaves behind in the night sky. Your light brown eyes gleam with golden fury, your face twisted into a snarl. Your massive breasts hang beneath you like a pair of udders, swaying backwards as inertia leaves them dragging behind as you accelerate forward.
"Oh Faceless Queen of Dusk and Dawn," a prayer spills from your lips that sounds more like a battlecry. The divine aspect lent to you by Dienoh's servants kicks into overdrive. The leminscate that brands your womb crackles with black lightning, which in truth contains the eleven thousand, six hundred and sixty four colors of the True Night. It rolls across your body as the pray leads to its conclusion, <span class="mu-s">[Adapting]</span> your body, mind, and soul to the task at hand. "Let this unworthy soul be molded by thy hand into a sword that cleaves through evil!"
<span class="mu-s">[Divine Aspect: Adaptation]</span>
<span class="mu-i">For the duration of the combat scene, Azalea has given up the Skilled evolutions for Dance and Sex Acts, replacing them with the ability to Smite Evil as a paladin of her level. She may smite evil twice a day; these uses carry over between uses of Adaptation.</span>
As you burst out of the woods, your eyes drink in the scene of battle.
Half a dozen men in armor lie dead, each of them taken by a single well placed crossbow bolt that pierced a crucial joint of their armor. The crossbows lie discarded as a dozen men in red robes marked with a black handprint rush the scant remaining guards in melee. A woman in armor struggles to break through the encirclement, frustration clear upon her face as even if her plate turns the Blackhand's blades, their numbers keep her back. A nervous boy who must be her squire covers her flank, warding the men in red off with his shield. An elderly man dressed as a butler supports both with magic cast from his cane, a focusing rod.
