#I'm really proud of this so imma queue it a few times

[dzamie]

GET FUCKED GET FUCKED GET FUUUUUUUUCKED

EAT SHIT YOU MASSIVE STONY BASTARD, CHIZURU IS A FUCKING BEAST AND YOU WERE A FOOL TO STAND IN HER WAY

General strat: two Chizurus (Dual Wield and Kazekiri, one with Golem+Stone Killer), Y’shtola, Cecil (Dualcast), Ling, and Orlandeau (friend, with Golem), everyone is null Petrify. Ling breaks Titan’s attack on odd turns, restores mana on even turns. Y’shtola starts with Protectga/Shellga, she and Cecil keep everyone alive with Curajas, and Cecil Limit Bursts whenever he can (which “refreshes” Y’s -ga requirements). The Chizurus chain Phantom Shadow with Divine Ruination in the middle, and then pray for the best.

The best part about this is that I won in quite possibly THE MOST ANIME WAY POSSIBLE, which I’ll dramatize under the cut.

*THUD!* Five bodies impact the ground, sliding away from the towering pillar of earth. They shake themselves off, stumbling as they recover from their beating. A young, white-haired man and a Miqo’te are the first to get their bearings about them, and set about bathing the group in white healing magic. A dancer in elegant, flowing dress and a pair of twin samurai soon stand again, the magic flowing around them and healing their dirt-covered wounds.

“Well, that didn’t work,” the man says, brushing some hair from his face, “phew, and that took a lot out of me.”

The samurai inspect their blades for damage, then, finding none, turn to the tired paladin. “We were doing rather well until that thing knocked Olive off the pillar,” one begins, and the other finishes with, “though really, Cecil, you needn’t protect us; we’re both quite capable of avoiding the lumbering oaf’s attacks.”

The group is interrupted by a earthshaking impact, and they turn to see a smaller copy of the foe that had defeated them, lumbering towards a nearby town. The towering titan, looking more like a moving boulder than anything else, easily knocks down trees in its path, scattering forest animals with each step. Though the team cannot see its face, it’s clear that it’s up to no good.

With a shared look of resolve, they spring to action, striking the titan before it can hurt any innocents. Cecil, with shield and sword, dutifully protects the catgirl, who in turn surrounds the group in powerful protective magic. Ling, the dancer, steps expertly through skillful moves, slowing her opponent’s blows and exposing weak points to her teammates. And the samurai swiftly attack with blades as identical as their wielders, interweaving each slash before the creature can react to the last. In very little time, it’s all over, and the ground shakes with the impact of the titan’s falling form.

Y’shtola is the first to speak, in a firm, even tone, “that... should work. We must pay more attention to the real one’s attacks, to avoid being thrown off again, but this strategy was very effective.”

“Agreed,” the samurai add in unison, “however, despite the sharpness of our blades, we may need help to adequately harm the monster.”

At this, an aged man, clothed in a brown, hooded robe and wielding a sword etched with glowing runes approaches them. “In that case, perhaps an old friend might be of assistance?” With a smile, he offers his hand, which Cecil joyously grasps. And so, the six of them journey once more to the top of the pillar.

Once more, they stand across from The True Titan, a hulking behemoth who may have been a mountain in a past life. With only a circle of rock to stand on above a precipitous drop, the team is firmly in his domain, and will have to fight hard to even stay there. Y’shtola raises her maplewood staff, casting a pair of powerful protection spells simultaneously. Cecil stands sturdy behind his shield, watching carefully. Ling begins a flowing, mystical dance, her moves seeming to weaken the massive enemy. The samurai dash forward, swift as the wind their katanas slice through, followed closely by arrows of light conjured by the bearded man. Titan responds, throwing giant rocks at the team, swinging with his mighty fists, and even disrupting the ground beneath them, yet the samurai leap easily from the jutting rocks, the dancer pirouettes perfectly away from the blows, and the paladin places himself between hurtling stones and the focused Miqo’te.

Enraged by the ineffectiveness of his attacks, Titan begins to glow, exposing his core in his fury. “For thee, my hatred is unyielding!” he bellows in a deep voice louder than any the team had heard, “For Thee, My Hatred Is UNENDING!” And the battle redoubles in intensity, Cecil occasionally pitching in with healing magic of his own when Y’shtola’s is not enough. 

Suddenly, the catgirl raises her hand. “Wait.” she commands, scanning the monstrous being. Another storm of stone batters the team, unretaliated, for the paladin to swiftly heal away, and then Y’shtola notices a shift in Titan’s movement. “Now! You three, before he can knock one of us away!”

The old man raises his sword as the samurai dash in again, shattering the behemoth’s core, and his concentration. Face twisted into a mask of pure, unadultered rage, Titan roars, stomping the ground. Even being near the infuriated being is painful, causing even Ling to stutter in her ongoing dance. Cecil defiantly jabs his sword to the sky and lets the moon’s power wash through him and his friends, bathing them in a silvery light. 

For a moment, everything is still, save for the fluid movements of the dancer, and then chaos erupts once more. Where before, Titan’s fists could shatter stone, he now swings with force to crack a mountain. Where before, Titan’s footsteps could shake the ground, they now cause massive spikes of stone to jut out from the battlefield. Yet, protected and empowered by the moon, the fearless team continues, weaving and striking through the tumultuous plateau. Pure white magic flows almost continuously from Y’shtola’s staff and Cecil’s sword, while the twin samurai and holy swordsman batter their hulking foe with a barrage of cuts and holy missiles.

Finally, the monster is on its last legs, barely fighting to keep upright. In the lull, Ling finishes her dance, and slowly walks up to Titan, gliding gracefully over the uneven ground. Everyone, even Titan himself, stops to watch as she curtsies, then performs a few simple steps. The green energy of an Esper surrounds her, and the image of a weaker, more humanoid being by the name of Titan appears. Its punch barely fazes him, but Ling’s cold grin tells all. She did not stop to do damage, but merely to mock the creature, striking at his heart rather than his core. Titan tenses, drawing on his earthen magic to fling the impudent dancer from the perilous pillar of stone, but is interrupted by a pair of identical samurai, wielding identical swords, trailed by swirling and weaving arrows of pure, holy light.

When the final blow is dealt, the massive, stony figure stumbles back, then falls from his own stage. In unison, the samurai sheathe their katanas as the very earth shakes with Titan’s impact. One turns to the edge, carefully looking over at the aftermath, and the other walks up to Ling, a satisfied smile still on the dancer’s face. 

“Was it worth it?” she asks. 

Ling nods, and makes a few motions, dancing even in her answer. Last time, Titan had caused her to fall from the pillar; it was great to be able to return the favor, with Titan’s own image nonetheless.

The six friends, injured, weary, yet still alive, begin their trek down the stony tower, happily retelling the fight from their perspectives. And to Ling’s credit, she only grabbed the Miqo’te’s tail twice on the way down.