"Aegis, the battlefield is a land filled with madness and destruction. Your eyes are far too young to bare witness to such a sight; your soul is far too innocent to yet experience the darkness of humanity. There shall come a time when you must confront the cruelties of war, but for now, I want you to close your eyes, silence the air around you, and hide yourself away within the safety of unconsciousness. Entrust your wings upon me and let yourself be cast adrift in the land of dreams. Do not worry, I shall protect you always. Now, and forever."

The Knight

———

Libevich

Just how long has it been since Libevich has felt such chilling pressure? The atmosphere is so delectably tense; the world is so wonderfully taut. Even the sky itself appears to be welcoming the coming carnage, the setting sun bathing every corner of the earth in a blood-red scarlet hue while the roaring winds scream a cacophony of cries and shrieks.

It's perfect. It's euphoric. The Stars are prophesying a great and bloody battle, one that shall be permanently etched into the annals of history, and Libevich will have the honor of rampaging through this historic moment. Songs shall sing of her might, her name spreading to every corner of the land, and maybe, just maybe, she will finally succeed in her deepest, most treasured desire.

Maybe she will finally be able to die. After all, there is no greater end to one's life than to perish within a maelstrom of flurried steel and mangled flesh. Oh, she can picture it now...her body pierced and flayed all over, blood flowing from every pore, while legions of frenzied warriors descend upon her carcass and tear her flesh from limb to limb until nothing is left of her but oblivion.

Heat flushes to her face; her body tingles with such unimaginable pleasure at the thought. Hopefully someone among the Polus will be able to give her the end she so rightfully deserves, but who?

That young King of theirs, Ascalon, would be a rather boring foe to face. What point is there in battle if you cannot feel the sensation of your skin being sliced apart or your bones being crushed into dust? Fighting him would be like fighting an emotionless doll: terribly bland.

Sarathiel, the so-called Titan of Steel, perhaps? He would certainly put up a rather ferocious resistance, but Libevich wants to clash blows with a warrior, not a crazed beast. He shall be the appetizer instead of the main course.

Annalay...now that is a woman who knows to relish in the sanctity of battle. Libevich has only gone against her once, but from the few, short engages they shared together, she can tell that the Throne of Nature is a kindred soul. Yes, she shall do nicely, but...

...in the end, only two women have been ever able to satisfy her. One is a friend who sacrificed herself for her child, and one is a radiant warrior now forever lost amongst the hallowed realms of the Stars. No matter how much Libevich tries to distract herself, nothing can fill in the void left by Lorelai's deaths.

"Oh Lorelai," she sighs to herself. "If only you were here. This setting would have been perfect for our final battle, our final dance, but I suppose none of this would have been possible without your death. Because of you, that coward you so cherished as King has finally decided to leave his little cage. Because of you, Xeros that bore has finally experienced what it's like to be cornered.

"Can you feel it up there? The whirlwind of emotions swirling through the air? Panic, terror, conviction, despair...this paradise of yours is ever so sweet, yet your absence is all that this old heart of mine can feel."

Libevich looks up and peers at the approaching army on the horizon. Some of the winged knights have already flown past her, but there's no need to deal with them. Xeros should be the one to have some fun with them and hopefully get some color back in those rusty bones of his. She, meanwhile, will deal with the brunt of the force herself.

The entirety of the Nox legion gathers behind her, forming a defensive position around the city gates while giant machines of steel and oil lumber forward and plant themselves all around the perimeter. Ballistae and turrets, nets and chains, and even some war vehicles pour out endlessly from every direction while the augmented soldiers rush to resupply themselves with saws and bullets.

Step, step, step.

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

Barks over here, yells over there. A pathetic whimper from one, a hopeless sigh from many. Oh, how dull. Is this really the force she must command over? Just why should she charge into battle surrounded by this miserable lot? The mere thought of it is just depressing...perhaps she should just abandon them in charge out there herself.

Actually, yes. That is exactly what she should do! Oh, what a marvelous idea; there's nothing Xeros can do to rebuke her anyway. Either Polus succeeds and erases Nox Caelum from history, or Libevich succeeds and dies the death she has always wanted. There's no downside no matter the outcome: excellent!

Libevich strolls over to an important looking officer and grabs them by the shoulders. Their figure pales in comparison to the gargantuan woman towering from above, and they begin to nervously shiver as she stares at them with piercing, greedy eyes.

"Um, may I be of service, Commander Libevich?" they ask, quickly composing themselves.

"Indeed, my boy. If I remember correctly, you are, hm what did Xeros call it, the 'Provost Centurion' am I correct?"

He gives her a nervous look but answers her question anyway. "That...is correct. My duties are to serve as your second-in-command and to assist you with directing the soldiers within your regiment. Since your command and influence has been extended for the capital's defense, I am working alongside the Centurions of other divisions to organize the troops. Would you like me to organize a meeting with everyone before the Polus knights arrive?"

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"Ah, no need," she says with glazed eyes. "Say, how long has it been since you've become this Provost or whatever?"

"I...I've been under your direct command for a few years now, Commander."

"Oh, really? I never noticed."

Libevich has never cared for procedures or this stuffy hierarchy, after all.

"Fufu, anyways, that should be good enough. From now on, I give you complete authority to act in my stead. You're the highest ranking person in this army now, lucky you!"

"W-What!?" he cries out.

"Yep, take over my duties from here on out. I'm going to deal with those little knights by myself first, and you shall make sure that everyone else takes care of the stragglers."

"...By your command then," he says, quickly giving up. "I know nothing I say will dissuade your mind."

"Oya? You really have served me for some time, haven't you? Good, I leave everyone within your capable hands. I'm off!"

And without another word, she charges off into the distance, abandoning all of her responsibility as a Commander. Now, she's just Libevich: a warrior and a slaughterer.

As she always has been. As she always will be.

She stops and plants herself firmly in place. There's no mud, dirt, or greenery anywhere in sight; only a vast desert of sand surrounds her. Yes, this place is perfect. Libevich plops herself down onto the ground and hums a little tune as she waits for the impending army to get closer and closer.

Everything is ready. Now, all that's left to do is wait.

"There once was a mother~" she trills. "Her warmth for all to embrace."

Clank.

"Her love shown through even the darkest of disgrace."

Thud.

"But her children were foolish, their greed insulting the Stars."

Crunch.

"And so she wept until naught remained but scars."

And then, silence.

Libevich looks up and smiles. An endless sea of knights blot every corner of her vision, and bright flags of gold and purple twirl proudly in the sky. Every single one of them is filled with such radiant resolve, wills tempered with discipline and eyes shining with impassioned color, yet nothing can compare to the hot, blazing fury emanating from their bodies. It's stifling. It's oppressing. It's captivating.

Six knights step forth and emerge from the boundless legion, each one adorned in different little patterns and emblems, and face her with a chilling glare that flushes her body with excitement. Are these the appetizers? How kind: Libevich will make sure to savor each and every one of them.

"Did you enjoy my little melody?" she says with a toothy grin. "It's an old, old lullaby, but fitting for an old woman like me, don't you think?"

No response. They merely stand there, hands wrapped around the sheathes of their weapons, and stay still as if waiting for something, or someone, to come.

"Oh, don't be like that. This is a...special moment, after all. I even recognize some of you. Oh, you've all grown so much."

She points a crooked finger at the knight with flame-streaked armor. "That cuirass suits you boy. I remember you sticking to that Sarathiel's side, always covering his rear with the ferocity of a raging wildfire."

The boy tenses up and shifts his pavise into a defensive stance, eyes burning with a white-hot flame.

"And you." Libevich moves on to the girl in a light pink. "I've only seen you from afar, but I remember you from the days when Lorelai and I still ravaged the earth on the frontlines. Those greatbolts of your captain back then were quite the annoyance. I wonder, were you able to properly succeed him after I tore apart his throat?"

The girl growls and almost charges straight at Libevich, but she's restrained at the last second by a little girl Libevich knows very well. A shame, but there's no need to rush.

"And how could I forget you, little Surasha? You and Lorelai were practically joined at the hip, always lurking nearby whenever we clashed blows. To be honest, I quite like you my dear. I must thank you for being such a beloved disciple: Lorelai would always lunge at me with such exhilarating fervor whenever I toyed with you. I have high hopes in you, very high hopes indeed that you'll be able to give me the same thrill I had when facing off against Lorelai."

Surasha gets annoyed like the others, but there's something different in that air of hers. It almost feels as if the girl is hiding something. A secret? It's something big, something very important, but what? What could possibly make her look so confident?

"Libevich, we don't have time to listen to your drivel," Surasha says, almost as if she's...mocking her? "Our nation's fate is on the precipice, and we can't allow a vile monster like you to get in our way."

"Hoh?" Libevich lets out a hearty, ear-grating cackle. "My, my. Your tongue has sharpened quite much, my dear. I only hope your blade has too, or else none of you shall be getting past me today."

The knight captains raise their weapons up high and begin to manifest their wings while Libevich tosses her robe aside and anchors her foot into the earth, face spread into a wide, manic grin. They charge forward, bloodlust crushing down on the giddy old woman, and...soar straight past her?

"...Huh?" Libevich mutters, disbelief and surprise etched onto her face. "W-Wait, where are you all going? You're...you're leaving me? Do you not care about your fellow knights?"

She stands there for a moment, mind completely frozen in shock, and turns around to find the rest of the Polus army marching around her as if she's but a speck of dust. They don't look at her, they don't speak to her...they just simply move forward without any hesitation or regard.

Never, in all of her years of life, has she been treated with such indifference, with such humiliation.

"H-How dare you..." Libevich grits her teeth, grinding them with a rage more furious than she's ever felt before. "How dare you all! You...YoOoU!"

Libevich's body twitches and trembles, drool and slobber spewing forth from her teeth as her eyes become completely white from sheer, overwhelming fury.

"I'LL SLAUGHTER EACH AND EVERY ONE OF-"

"Stop."

A single word. That's all Libevich hears. That's all that is said. But...that voice, why is it so familiar? She's heard it time and time again, that oh so soft, but powerful, tone mixed with an overbearing air of authority. I-It's just like her, but that can't be, can it? It's impossible, Xeros himself confirmed her death, but that voice is indistinguishable. It can only belong to...

Libevich slowly regains her composure and looks straight ahead. There, standing right in front of her, is a warrior clad in golden armor. A warrior she thought long perished from the world. A warrior she missed so, so much with all her heart.

"...Lorelai?" Libevich murmurs. "Y-You're alive?"

"I am, and for as long as I'm here, I shall not allow you to harm a single knight of Polus."