Claret did not leave.
She threw her head back and screeched: “Julia! Poppaea!”
A rustling sound above made the Professor gaze upward; in that instant, Claret leaped back with superhuman speed.
She effortlessly executed a backflip – her slim fingers barely touching the ground as she spun head over hooves, landing three meters away from Junebug’s prostrate body.
The Professor bared her teeth, clenching her jaw angrily. “Damn it- I should have pinned her down before she could do that. You’re getting soft…” she thought to herself.
She straightened, occasionally stealing a glance at the Quadrangle’s sharp grey roofs.
A shadowy, bat-like form was skulking along them rapidly, skittering across like a great dark spider. It shot towards the Professor, rapidly becoming visible.
It was another long-eared, bat-winged Fruit Bat Vampire Pegasus pony with a dark blue coat and a long, shimmering black mane.
She flung her wide, silken wings outward, gliding earthward soundlessly, landing lightly upon her hooves, and strode forwards to Claret’s right side, grinning maniacally.
Her icy grey irises were nearly the same color as her filmy white sclera; her dramatic black eyeshadow and black lipstick only made her seem even fiercer.
Her long, straight black mane flowed like ink down her shoulders, touching her lower back.
She had wide hips, large, full breasts, and long legs, with thick thighs and plump flanks. She wore a black leather bikini and calf-length black leather boots, her wrists adorned with silver bracelets; a silver necklace bearing a silver crescent moon rested upon her bosom. Upon her magnificent, black-maned head was a silver crown with long, evil-looking spikes not entirely unlike nails; there were six of them, spread out in a perfect semicircle.
While the Professor was taking all of this in, a Fruit Bat Vampire pony materialized at Claret’s left; another long-legged, full-breasted, wide-hipped, slender-armed mare with wild red hair like a flame burning up her head and shoulders, with yellow irises.
Her coat was a peach color.
This one was wearing a glistening, sharp-bladed suit of armor that hugged the curves of her breast, hip, and thigh, as slender as sheet metal, intricately cut, hinged and folded to avoid pinching her flesh while revealing her body to a certain extent. Metal gauntlets covered her hands, with keen, sharp blades at her fingertips.
Her steel boots had sharp, genuine blades lining the backs of the heels; a real stiletto heel, one could say. They clacked sharply upon the ground when she strode over to Claret.
Claret nodded pleasantly at the two Vampire Fruit Bats mares. “How nice of you to join us, Julia. Poppaea.”
Julia, the bikini-clad, blue-coated, black-haired, crowned mare, whose full name was Julia Cornelia Scipio, giggled, glancing down at the prostrate Junebug, then at the Professor, who was watching them with a scornful eye, her head tilted back ever so slightly. “Having problems?”
“A teacher, how nice.” Poppaea Sabina, the red-maned mare, lifted her gauntleted hand to her muzzle, thrusting her tongue out and licking the keen edge of the blades upon the fingertips.
“Where is Natascha?” Claret asked, peering over Julia’s shoulder.
“Here, your Grace,” rasped a low female voice, and another Vampire Fruit Bat pony stepped out of the shadows.
This one loomed a full head over the other three, her arms and legs thick with muscle, jutting forth beneath her skin like steel plating. She was wearing a white cloth vest, tan leather pants, and brown leather boots. Her short white mane was closely cropped around her ears, and seemed as if it hadn’t been combed in days. Her eyes were purple.
Claret pointed at Junebug. “Take her,” she snapped. “Poppy, take down that professor! I’ve had enough of her interrupting my plans! Julia, keep watch!”
Julia, Poppaea, and the huge, heavily muscled Natascha sprang to obey.
Poppaea threw herself at the Professor with such sudden ferocity that the Professor’s heart pounded momentarily. The red-maned mare ran towards her, hooves pounding the ground, then she lunged, her right arm outstretched, fingers pointing at the Professor, ready to skewer her upon the blades on her fingertips.
Professor Deborah suddenly felt relaxed. This was merely a problem of dueling. She needed no further prompting; she fell into an en garde stance, arm raised, rapier at the ready, legs spread, feet well apart, gathering strength in her broad thighs to defend herself.
Poppaea closed the gap with her; the Professor sidestepped neatly and prepared to counterattack.
The Professor’s blade whistled towards Poppaea’s breast.
Poppaea’s eyes widened in shock; she parried the blade at the last moment.
The Professor came down upon her like a wolf in the fold; her blade flashed and sang as it jabbed at Poppaea’s body.
Poppaea struggled to defend herself, the Professor’s blade ringing sharply as she parried each thrust. She swiped at the Professor’s face, seeking to blind, but the Professor was not there; she was at Poppaea’s left and came at her again with a vengeful lunge. Poppaea was forced to jump back, fluttering her wings to give herself more altitude and speed as she did so. “Is that all?” the Professor barked at her, voice dripping with contempt.
She was not as calm as she sounded; Natascha had picked up Junebug and was rapidly leaving with the unconscious mare.
“I need to put this annoying Draculina down before they get away!” the Professor thought to herself, frantically, but Julia and Claret, who clearly seemed to be the leader of the operation, were retreating as well.
Before she could think of anything to save the unfortunate Junebug, Poppaea had gathered herself, crouched, and sprang at the Professor like a pouncing cheetah; she leaped skyward and came downwards with a brutal swing of her steel claws. “I’ll tear you to shreds, mortal!” she shrieked.
The Professor effortlessly turned Poppaea’s blades aside with a dismissive flick of her blade, but Poppaea struck at her with her other hand; the Professor bent to the side smoothly, dodging Poppaea’s bladed fingers, but they passed so close to the Professor’s skin that she could feel the breeze they made tickle her coat.
Professor Deborah thrust at Poppaea’s neck and Poppaea ducked rapidly, swiping at the Professor’s belly with her bladed fingers, forcing the Professor to sidestep yet again.
By now, Julia, Natascha, and Claret had crossed the quadrangle and disappeared through a door.
The Professor growled between clenched teeth, her face twisted with fury. She launched a furious attack on Poppaea, blade whistling and whipping through the air like flowing liquid mercury. Poppaea found herself fighting to simply survive the Professor’s furious onslaught, blocking with her steel-clad upper arms, her fingers, her palms. The point of the Professor’s blade was moments from her tender belly or chest.
Poppaea’s nerve was breaking under the attack, her resolve melting away as she found herself alone with the Professor, who showed no sign of relenting.
She began to grow incareful; once, she took a moment too long to parry the Professor’s blade.
That was all Professor Deborah needed. She lashed at Poppaea’s partially exposed bosom, and Poppaea barely evaded it at the last possible moment. The blade nicked her flesh.
“Ngh…” Poppaea’s eyes narrowed, and she ground her jaw. Blood welled from the small cut, thin red fingers oozing down her coat.
She turned and ran with supernatural speed, sprinting up the side of the wall, spreading her wings, and shooting into the sky like a stone launched from a catapult. In moments, she was gone.
“Damn it all!” the Professor shouted, throwing her blade to the ground. She stamped with one hoof, nostrils flaring, hot tears prickling her eyes.
“I can’t let them hurt Junebug! I must find her! Even if I die in the attempt…I’ll get her back. I swear it.”