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Book 3: Chapter 30

I saw in the dark hell of past,

My heart today beat

And tomorrow cease.

Yesterday, a lot I cried.

Now, I laugh.

And at the end, I will be proud.

Philosophy, Janis the White

Nay swore, breathing too hard and too loudly. A wave crashed on her back as if to punish her for her language, but she held on to the ropes of the ship.

“Trinne?”

“Yes! …by Lebe’s cavernous vagina, the water is freezing! What a stupid idea. Stupid!”

“Trinne. Not so loud.”

“Even if someone was standing on the railing straight over us, he wouldn’t hear a thing. I barely can myself and…Biach!” The ship went up and down a wave, and Trinne disappeared under the sea, before re-emerging five seconds later.

Nay decided that it was time to climb, and Trinne seemed on the same wavelength, as they both started their climb on the rope ladder of the Carradinoris war ship simultaneously.

The war ship was tall, very tall, and Nay had underestimated how tiring swimming on open seas was, when clothed and equipped with a dagger and sword. The ten meters she had to cross to reach the ship had completely exhausted her. She wasn’t wearing shoes, too heavy, and Hyn had pushed for her to only wear the top of her leather armour, with nothing underneath, and only a thin linen trouser, currently sticking uncomfortably to her legs. She honestly felt like she was attacking a war ship naked. Trinne was barely in a better state of dress. She wasn’t suffering from the miracle of the Door’s repercussions, and she had only taken her one-handed sword, a rapier, with her, but because of the natural movement of the ship, she had to swim five more meters.

Which explained why the two women were climbing so slowly, breathing so heavily.

There were a dozen or so Rreicos around the Legio, but Nay was certain that no one had spotted them. The ship’s bridge was very well lit up, but the hull was on the contrary, completely in the dark, and the closest ship was at least fifty meters away.

Her own Rreico was contained, to avoid detection through the Carradin tattoos, and she had sung the psalm of the Door in total darkness, with the accursed box next to her. That way, no one could have spotted the crystal door appearing in the middle of the ocean.

As the two women approached the wooden railing covered in gold paper, Nay raised a hand to her friend.

‘Stop.’

The Rreico was unmissable, even if the sound of the waves was masking his presence.

They waited there, hanging on ropes, for a few minutes, before finally the Rreico on the bridge went away.

“It’s clear.” Nay announced. She pushed herself over the railing, then helped her friend to do the same. The Duchess then took point. The Legio focused on her friend, and on the dozen of Rreicos around. The two men in the crow’s nest did not spot them, but they had to get inside the hold as fast as possible. The more time they spend outside, the higher the chances were that they would be uncovered. This was why Trinne went first, knowing the schematics of the ship by heart, and Nay was close behind to stop her if they came close to meet a Carradin shipmate.

The Legio did not have enough free attention span to really look around. The beauty of the ship, the mad architecture of the stairs they used to penetrate deeper inside, the extraordinary craftsmanship of the lanterns hanging everywhere, all of this was a passing thought in her mind. The Legio followed the redhaired woman, stopped her, and forced her to take another route when someone was going to cross paths with them.

Ten minutes, high in tension, passed, a plethora of shipmates passing sometimes just next to them, without any realizing they were there until finally, they managed to get into a completely empty room.

“Time for my miracle.” Trinne announced, closing her eyes. A moment passed, and Nay felt her friend’s Rreico flicker for less than a second. That was all that changed for her, but she knew that now, anyone looking at the duchess of Gite would now see nothing but thin air.

Nay moved back. If she touched Trinne, the phantom miracle would vanish, and if Nay unleashed her Rreico, the same thing would happen.

The Legio was quite surprised to see that her friend hadn’t needed a psalm, but she did remember that it wasn’t always needed when a Touched used his own phantom miracle.

“Let’s get on with it.” Trinne decided.

Nay only nodded.

As planned, at this hour there was only a night shift crew awake, and they were few of them. The minima required to surveil their surroundings, and another to keep the ship in control, as it was always moving through the wishes of the sea.

It took another half an hour until the two women reached their objective: The lowest point in the cargo hold, surrounded by dozen of boxes, some empty and some filled with food supplies, all firmly bolted to the ground as to not slip on the floor.

“And now, we wait.”

Nay did not answer, trying to get herself as comfortable as possible at the back of this large storage room, hidden from sight. There wasn’t anything comfortable about the immense box she had decided to use as a replacement bed, but she did fall asleep almost instantly. Using the Door so often these past few days, as well as their intrusion in the was ship, had fundamentally drained her.

She wasn’t worried, as Trinne was protecting her.

“Nay.”

The Legio woke up instantly. Her first reaction was to feel the surrounding Rreicos, but only Trinne’s was inside the room, the other too far away for her to be able to read them precisely.

“Mh.” She shook her head to try and chase away the last remnant of her already forgotten dreams.

“Here.” Trinne gave her a cup of tea and a piece of bread.

“Wha…”

“No mages in their kitchen. And you need to pass through the kitchens to get here. Drink, eat, then our mission really starts.”

“Won’t they notice the missing food?”

Trinne gave her a sad smile. “They didn’t even notice their missing shipmate. My power is ridiculously perfect for an Assini, a bit terrifyingly so, even.”

She pointed a finger towards a blood trail, starting at the door and leading towards the tip of two feet, hidden behind a box.

Nay blinked. “I didn’t feel anything.”

“I killed him outside. He came to get some supplies. But as long as my miracle is active, he doesn’t exist, or I guess, his absence doesn’t exist yet, as it would reveal my presence.”

Nay shivered.

“Exactly.” The Duchess approved.

Nay rose to her feet, drank the tepid tea in one go, and quickly took care of the too dry piece of bread.

She then went towards the corpse. The man couldn’t be over seventeen, and he was dressed as a cook, not as a soldier. The Legio grimaced. She knew her friend hadn’t had a choice, but she could only regret what had occurred here.

“Are you all right?” She asked the young redhead.

Trinne’s expression broke for a single heartbeat, before going back to neutral. “Not now. Are you ready? Do you feel able to create a Door?”

Nay closed her eyes for a short moment, inspiring, then exhaling deeply.

“I’m ready. My back hurts, but weirdly enough, I slept like a moat cat.”

Trinne laughed softly. “Unbelievable.” Her face went back to serious. “Follow me.”

And Nay obeyed.

Dawn wasn’t there yet, but the ship was already much more active than the night before. The cooks especially, were already working on the typical ship gruel, but Nay also spotted fish, vegetables, and even some ingredients that should never have been on a ship that had crossed the ocean.

They climbed to the floor of the ship just underneath the outside bridge, and then Trinne brought her towards the corridor leading to the throne room.

They took a short break in an adjacent room, where a Carradin was sleeping, noble or high-ranked, considering the luxury of his surroundings.

Trinne didn’t hesitate to cut the throat of the man in his bed.

He woke up in a panic of deep suffering, tried to scream, and, as he couldn’t, wildly struck with his body and arms anywhere, to make as much noise as he could. It only accentuated the spurts of blood exiting his deadly wound, and a few moments later, he stilled.

Nay grimaced. “Trinne.”

The aforementioned seemed to wake up from a stupor.

“Yes. Sorry. We are at the end of the corridor leading to the throne room.” She came closer to the Legio, but was careful not to touch her. Her sword had blood dripping from it. “We go left here, and that’s the throne room’s entrance. How many guards?”

“Two.” Nay answered immediately. “No mages.”

“Very good. Vahamut usually gathers his generals and councilors there a bit after dawn when he is in Mindor, so, we’ll set our trap there. But we need to be inside before he arrives. I don’t know if the guards have tattoos to spot me, but I’ll go first, and you cover me in case they see me and try to sound the alarm.”

Nay nodded.

The two women exited the room, and the Legio saw her friend go around the corner very naturally, calmly walking towards the two guards.

Who did not react.

Worse than that, the right-hand side guard did not even react when his colleague fell to the ground with a sword in his throat. The man gurgled in a deeply unsettling manner, not even able to shout for help, and he was only looking at the other Carradin with an expression of betrayal and incomprehension.

A few seconds later, the second guard was dead as well.

Nay walked to her friend.

Trinne had her eyes closed, her sword firmly in her right hand.

“Hani…” Nay began.

The duchess of Gite raised her head. “Good. Someone inside?”

The Legio clenched her teeth, but Trinne was right. This was not the moment.

She focused and felt absolutely zero reaction from her sixth sense.

“Nothing.”

“We’re going in then.”

Nay nodded, pushing the large wooden double door open.

Trinne blinked wildly. “Wait. Nothing? At all? No enchantments either?”

And immediately, as the door opened, the two women witnessed their mistake. Because at the moment the throne room came into view, the total absence of Rreico that Nay had perceived was entirely replaced by twelve Rreicos and thirty or so enchantments all over the internal walls of the room.

The two women saw in disbelief, a man on an iron throne, surrounded by guards and mages, as he was talking to another in front of him, a monster of a man, made of muscles and with only one arm. That man was kneeling in front of his king.

Four guards were standing guard next to the entrance, and their expressions mirrored those of the two women.

Nay and Trinne were the first to react. The Legio ran straight towards the guard closest to her, who had barely the time to unsheathe his sword before being cut cleanly in half through his middle, Lake shearing through flesh, bones and organs as if air.

It had given enough time for the three remaining guards though, but none seemed to be perceiving Trinne, and as they started to surround the Legio, two fell in the same ten seconds.

The last guard hadn’t even noticed he was now alone against the Legio. The young girl with cloudy eyes perceived enchantments on the sword of her opponent, and she preferred to dodge the Carradin’s strike at the very last second, so she could quickly penetrate his guard and bury Bubble in his torso. She only realized how risky her move had been when she dodged the blade. The ground under her feet was not stable at all, and dodging so precisely in these conditions was inanity. Fortunately for her, the Carradin ship didn’t move too much then, and everything went as planned. A simple sidestep, and there were only eight remaining Carradin left, the already lifeless corpse behind her falling to the ground with a loud thump.

A man standing next to who was obviously the king of Mindor Vahamut Shroediker, had stepped forwards to stop the Legio, but he also fell, in utter astonishment, under the invisible attack of the duchess of Gite, who had thrown one of the fallen guard’s axes to his face.

“Mein Konig, ein andere…”

“Ich weisse. Sonniert die alarm.”

“Aber, die betoveringen…”

Of the little she understood, the Legio got that the men wearing the beautiful cloth togas were mages, and had noticed that Nay wasn’t alone, but hadn’t managed to spot Trinne yet. The king of Mindor had also asked for the alarm to be sound, but apparently, the enchantments in the room that had prevented her from sensing Rreico were also preventing the mages to sound the alarm. And their only exit had the Legio in their way.

A stroke of luck in their misfortune.

The Legio took a second to get a read on the situation.

There were three magic-less guards remaining, and looking at their equipment, the strange repeat bows and basic side weapons, they were bowmen first and swordsmen second. The two mages were inconsequential, even if their power was comparable to Defin’s. The king though wasn’t inconsequential. He was a very powerful Touched, maybe equal to Vestigio, but it was his size, the entirely enchanted plate armour that he was wearing, and the gigantic two handed axe next to his throne that was worrying Nay.

Then, finally, she noticed the true problem in the room.

The man that had been kneeling in front of the throne was now standing and had turned to face her. He had watched the Legio’s fight without moving an inch. And he was gigantic, at least two meters high, and to say he was made of muscles was quite the understatement.

“Ich heisse Archebald Grosstachier, right hand of Vahamut Shroediker, and you’ll be my opponent today.” The one-handed giant stepped forwards, without any care for the men laying on the slippery ground of the moving war ship’s throne room.

Nay had noticed his Rreico the second she had spotted him, but she did realize now, that the man was a dimension higher than all the others, even the king. He was barely a mage, but his giant sabre hanging from his belt, his completely naked torso covered in scars and enchanted tattoos, everything about this man was screaming violence. He had a beer belly, which you could think was a sign of weakness, but it truly only meant that the man liked to drink, and in no way meant that this wasn’t a monster of muscles and battle experience.

Nay stood firm, readying herself. But she couldn’t stop her expression of utter terror to reach her lips when she noticed Trinne trying to stab him in the side of the neck with her rapier.

She had no idea why the Rreico was telling her that the completely unavoidable attack from her friend wasn’t going to work, but that is exactly what happened.

Shroediker’s right hand man did not spot Trinne, just like every other man before him, but instead of being pierced by the rapier, the blade stopped as it reached his flesh, then broke in two. The young red-head could only look at her broken in half weapon, not even able to comprehend what had happened yet, before the opened hand of the only remaining arm of Archebald struck the top of her skull, sending her flying at least three meters away. The duchess of Gite only stopped when she crashed onto one of the many animal pelts that covered the throne room walls.

Nay felt her friend’s miracle fizzle out as she lost consciousness.

Panic started to grip her insides. She wanted to scream but could not let herself be distracted.

“Ah. Entraglich. Dass was ist.” The right-hand man of the king of Mindor said, as he stared at Trinne as if she had just appeared. Which was most likely what had happened from his point of view.

“Your ruse is uncovered, young Firante! I had never seen a Vershinding magic like this one before, but your friend should never have underestimated my Shikte!” Valamut Shroediker seemed pleased, and even in his Rreico, Nay saw the burgeoning of fear disappear and be replaced by very acidic-tasting confidence. He raised a hand to the mage to his right: “Toot dass meid.” The mage began the strange combo of finger snaps and hand gestures that meant that he was starting a Carradin spell.

Nay wasn’t going to let him, and she unveiled her Rreico. The initial effect was very mild: the remaining men flinched and grimaced.

Only the right hand man of the king looked at her differently now, with increased interest, an eyebrow raised. Three seconds later, the mage was looking at his hands in a stupor.

“Was gebeurt!?” The king asked in anger.

“Es werkt niet…magi ist weg.” The mage on his right explained.

“Was? Bewegen! Weg!” The King shouted, and the mage took a step back to give him a clear line of sight.

The king snapped his fingers twice, then clapped his hands three times, but once again, nothing happened.

“Firante magic!” He screamed, enraged. “You! Toot sie!” He grabbed the youngest soldier in the group, one of the bowmen, who could not be over fourteen years old, and pointed toward the unconscious figure of Trinne on the ground.

“No!” Nay stepped towards Archebald, deciding to forego her blaring instincts telling her to be careful of him if that stopped the young teen from killing her friend.

But the right hand of the king surprised her, he drew his almost two meter sabre and pointed it straight towards her, forcing her to take one step back, but at the same time he turned to face the king of Mindor. “Nein. No touch. Kracht.” The bowman stilled instantly. “Mather?” he asked. Archebald did a gesture that Nay did not understand, and then his focus was back on her.

“Krach. You fight against me, and no one attack your friend during.”

The Legio took two seconds to understand what he was saying. “What?”

“Was?” Vahamut echoed her in another language. “Nie! Wir haben spätige…”

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“Kracht? You know what that is?” The right-hand mand of the king repeated, not caring about his king’s expression, who looked as if he had eaten the sourest citrus there was.

Nay had to think about her answer for a short moment. “Ja. Oder warom?”

“Warum?” The muscle giant corrected her. “Because me want to have you full.” And he gave her a large smile.

Despite knowing he wasn’t meaning anything sexual with that, Nay still shivered and looked disgusted. She stared at her friend’s unmoving body. She had a stable Rreico, so the strike had probably only knocked her out. Then Nay focused back on the giant in front of her.

“I agree with your terms. Let the devil take me if I lie.”

The right hand of the king’s smile grew even bigger. “Original. Gut. Sehr Gut. Ich seer by Kra.”

And without any other form of warning, he rushed her.

Which didn’t surprise Nay at all.

Because his Rreico was clear as spring water. To say the truth, it may have been the easiest Rreico to read and to capture…at first glance. Because she immediately realized that it was impossible to catch that rhythm of life. He was the complete opposite of Marke or Redrick. Where their rhythm had been about control and reaching an inside emptiness, his opponent’s was about chaos and complete abandon to his inner violence. All his emotions, all his strikes and dodges, everything was completely free in his Rreico. It should have been paralyzing, all those choices unfocused inside of him, all those opportunities and thoughts, but Nay didn’t fall for it. He wasn’t deciding, it was his body making the decisions for him. He was completely letting himself be carried by his experience and his muscle memory.

Easy to predict, impossible to control. A combat method so completely opposite to Nay’s that she was almost admirative of it.

When she jumped away to avoid his initial charge, he immediately followed up with a horizontal strike that was so powerful that Nay felt the air vibrate above her head when she ducked to dodge. The next instant, a terrifyingly strong kick flew towards her. She first tried to intercept the attack with Lake, but as she didn’t feel her blade go through his flesh easily, she reacted on the spot and did a pirouette backwards.

The Carradin stopped for a second as she landed two meters away from him. “Ein magi sword?”

“Tattoos?” She asked back at him.

“Ja. Eine tattoo of my inner kracht. Inner kracht fueling undenbarlich the tattoo. Unlucky for you. Your dull sword cannot me hurt.”

Nay swore internally. Of course she had to face what had to be the only opponent in the world that had a phantom miracle and a corresponding tattoo making things incapable of cutting him. Because instead of cutting his leg in half, her blade had only cut through the cloth of his trousers, and barely scratched the skin underneath. The power of the enchantments of her sword and the power of his tattoo were canceling each other out, and Nay’s Rreico was ineffective on enchantments, and tattoos were basically the same thing. His tattoo would empty itself faster than the runes on her blade, as she had more power to recharge it, but even with his lackluster amount of magic, this stalemate could take hours, and his sword would work perfectly on her during all that time.

So her legendary sword that she had never sharpened was now a simple pointy stick with a flat edge.

But she didn’t have time to lament anymore, as the gargantuan resumed his attack. Nay wasn’t entirely harmless, as she could still use the very dangerous tip of Bubble and Lake, but to be limited in only thrusts was a very large handicap, especially against an adversary that had been rumoured to be the equal of Redrick Darkstar. Because she remembered the stories surrounding Archebald Grosstachier, right hand of the kind of Mindor.

Even if those stories were false.

The Legio had sensed it at their first exchange. First, there was no comparing this man and Jarl the Bohemian. And, as she parried a diagonal strike with both her blades, she was perfectly aware of how great of a swordsman her adversary was, but he wasn’t on the same level as the former Commandare.

If that had been true, the Legio would have been dead already.

The Carradin did not stop, this time. After his diagonal strike, he tried another kick towards the Legio, who dodged it last second. The point of her sword fused straight for his neck, but he dodged it by forcing his kick to push further, making his whole body push to the right.

Nay did not hesitate, she pulled back her leg to kick him straight in the groin. Unable to dodge, he just took it with a very audible groan of pain. Despite that, he did not miss a beat and struck Nay in the face with the pommel of his sabre, a rapid reaction she did not expect.

He had been unable to put all his strength in the punch, but the Legio could not dodge it either, the rocking of the ship unfortunately putting her back directly in the trajectory of the hand and pommel.

She was forced to take two steps back and screamed once in pain. Blood fell from her nose. She let it flow freely, maintaining her focus on her opponent, even if she was swearing internally. She knew that it was too dangerous to dodge so precisely in the boat, but she had done it anyway.

Grosstachier had a knee on the ground, and his face was redder than a Tergee apple.

“Frunt. Ach Frunt!” Then, in a terrifying maniacal expression, some sort of fully toothed smile, he got back up. And advanced towards the Legio once again.

“Biach.” Nay swore in turn. She had sniffed loudly, and it hurt her nose again.

“Aberbrich! Mirre! Das sist een Mather versus Mather!” Archebald shouted, but he wasn’t speaking to Nay.

His blade fell vertically towards her, but she sidestepped to the right so she could penetrate his guard on his left side. He was missing an arm, and she needed to fully utilize that weakness.

Unfortunately, she reflexively swiped her dagger instead of thrusting toward his left shoulder, which did nothing at all.

The Carradin was still smiling, showing all his teeth, some missing and some replaced by gold nuggets. His blade flew towards Nay once again, and once again Nay dodged it last minute to maximize her chances to counter, despite the danger. The results went identical, her counterattack not working on him at all.

For the next sequence of strikes, she deflected his attack and followed up with a thrusting strike on his torso, but in a maneuver that would have been envied by professional dancers, Archebal Grosstachier swirled, pushing the blade away with his left shoulder and forcing the Legio to miss her target.

Nay stepped back, pre-emptively dodging a deadly counter from her opponent. She was racking her brain as much as possible. A small part of her was sad that she had to fight this man to the death, as he had so much to teach her about the art of dueling, but the bigger part was thinking about how to win. He was acting like a madman, seemingly hitting her without worry about his own life, but in truth, he was sparing all his focus to react only to her thrusting strikes, the only thing that could really be dangerous to him. And despite his attacks looking barbaric and without technique, it wasn’t the case at all. Every strike was a deadly one and had been repeated and trained tens of thousands of times.

The Legio decided to switch styles. She did a backhand jump, surprising the Carradin. With now enough distance between him and her, she started dancing, as she turned and swirled.

The right hand of the king looked at her, a bit weirded out, but he didn’t wait for her to finish the dance of the Imperatrix, he rushed forwards.

Nay didn’t change her strategy, she continued dancing despite the colossus coming straight for her.

Nay danced.

He was raising his sabre.

Nay swirled, playing with the waves under her feet, playing with the ship…no, dancing with it.

He brought his sword down. Because despite him not understanding what was happening, the Carradin wasn’t the kind of man to hesitate. As such, his blade flew with great speed towards the dancing woman…until it finally crashed on the ground in a burst of wood, at least two feet away from the Legio, straight on the wooden planks of the throne room floor.

“Hun?” He exclaimed, surprised.

Nay struck. She did not throw her dagger, as it wasn’t necessary. She only needed to extend her arm and Bubble was deeply plunging…in his left shoulder.

The Carradin had managed to react to the attack, fast enough to avoid the deadly strike.

He pulled his sword out of the wooden floor just in time to avoid Lake, and in a move that had to have been crippling so much it hurt, he whipped his body on the left, forcing Nay to let go of her dagger.

“Ha! Told you! Firante magic!!!” Vahamut shouted. “Mannen! Tooten die…”

Nay immediately prepared to be attacked by all six men at the same time, but her opponent turned and screamed at them like an animal.

“NEIN! DASS IST EIN KRACHT!”

His Rreico was anger personified, and even Nay trembled under the pure emotion of her opponent.

Once certain that no one was going to interfere with their duel, the right hand of the king of Mindor focused back on the Legio.

“Gut. Your dance troubled mein mind. Magnifik. You are true Mather, not yet like die Hellmann, but close.”

“Die Hellmann?” Nay questioned. But she was more focused on the dagger still pushed inside his shoulder. It wasn’t bleeding enough for their duel to be over, not by a long shot. Her dagger was too deep inside, and it served as a tourniquet for his wound.

Archebald shrugged. “Mah, your teacher, einfachlich. I recognize a bit of same stÿl in you. Not important. You very different. Much more fun. Continue!” And similar to an alcoholic who was given a beer, he smiled and stepped forwards.

Nay understood that he was talking about the Commandare, but she did not have the time to think more about it, as the gigantic sabre was crashing down towards where she stood. She dodged right, and tried to get her dagger back, but the Carradin stepped back in time. Then he advanced again and attacked once more.

Nay almost died then, as a large wave crashed on the ship and made her stumble just enough to slip. It was only due to her decision to slip backwards and not forwards that she managed not to be cut in half. Instead, her armour was struck at her belly button, and a large cut appeared on her belly.

She didn’t have the time to shout her pain, as the Carradin was already raising his feet to crush her head in.

She struck the raised leg with the tip of her sword, not trying to pierce it, as she had not footing to put any strength in her attack, on the ground as she was now, but to help her push herself back.

The foot crashed on the empty spot between her legs on the floor, and to then dodge the sword that was definitely coming, Nay kicked up with her leg in his groin again, for the second time this battle, using the force to put some distance between him and her.

“Urf!” Air escaped Archebald’s lungs audibly, and he had to take two steps back to recover from the shock of the attack. “Ka…kannt sie mir nicht da frappieren!?” He asked, but the Legio didn’t understand the meaning of the sentence.

She used this short pause to get back up and examine the wound on her belly.

Superficial. She sighed in relief.

Her gaze fell back on the man with a body of a giant in front of her. His face was red, but his smile was unchanged.

Nay couldn’t see how to win this fight. The terrain was too slippery, too hazardous, and the chances for a finishing move from her part was unlikely, while her opponent was experienced in high sea combat, could kill her with a well-placed kick, and he, he had a sword that could cut.

Nay turned her focus to Bubble on his shoulder. Blood was oozing and flowing on his naked torso, but far from enough. Then her eyes went to his missing arm. The left shoulder had been cut cleanly, impossibly so, as if he had faced an angel. She had been intrigued by this old impossible wound, but strangely, at this moment where every second counted, this was what seemed the most important to her eyes.

The Legio was breathing heavily, but her father’s lessons dominated her mind.

Slow intake of breath.

Slow exhale of air.

An impossible wound.

A boulder cut in two.

A courtyard lit up by torches, two men ending their friendship, under only the witnessing eyes of a young girl losing her childhood and the shadow of the Shadowroc’s flank.

A sword, no, not a sword, the sword, Murasame, raised in the sky.

And for a fraction of second, in a single burst of lucidity brought by this moment where everything was at stake, Nay saw in the shoulder of Archebald Grosstachier a story twenty years old. A story of an old duel. One that let a young Redrick Darkstar reach a technique that no one else would ever be able to reproduce.

And in this she saw more than an old wound and blood, she also saw the abyss in his mind. Because you could not face the peak of swordsmanship and emerge unscarred. Neither in body nor in mind.

Then, there was nothing, as if blind to this truth again. Only an echo of a Rreico of flowers and cogs, still unconscious under a wooden wall.

Nay looked at her friend. Then her opponent.

For the first time since their duel had begun, she smiled. But it wasn’t a happy smile.

Once again, the Carradin did not hesitate, he had recovered from the Legio’s kick, and he ran straight at her.

“I am sorry.” She announced to him.

He continued his mad dash.

She took Lake with both her hands and raised the sword high in the sky, the tip touching lightly the ceiling of the throne room.

Archebald leaped once more, but in his Rreico, something else appeared.

Profound terror. A memory so deeply buried, while at the same time always having been at the edge of his mind.

“Nee…” He whispered incredulously, continuing to barrel forward anyway, a testimony to his courage and strength, and brandished his sword forwards.

But it was too late. His Rreico wasn’t chaotic anymore, it was only one, simple thing. The one thing with anger, that was the easiest to control. Fear was the rhythm of life that asked to be controlled, that begged to be reassured and hugged.

And Nay swung Lake in front of her, but way too late. Archebald’s sabre would kill her seconds before she could reach him, and even then, why would he care? She could not cut him.

But he did not attack her. He stopped, knelt to stop his forward movement as fast as possible, and turned the flat part of his sword above his head to catch the vertical strike of the Legio.

But he still trembled. He trembled because he knew that despite Nay’s dull sword, despite his sabre blocking the attack perfectly, despite the comfortable distance he had maintained with his opponent where only the tip of her sword could reach him... despite all of that, he knew he was already dead, cut in half. Because he understood at the moment where the sword was crashing on him that she was just like die Hellmann.

And nothing had stopped his sword then. Neither a metal shield of twenty kilos, nor the thick leather armour underneath, nor the flesh, the muscles, even the bones, nothing.

The proof was in the arm he had lost twenty years ago.

All of this explained why he was completely unprepared when Nay’s sword simply glided under his sabre.

There hadn’t been any strength in Nay’s attack.

Because it hadn’t been a vertical strike, it hadn’t been the vertical strike of Redrick Darkstar. As, after all, no one except him could do it.

It was a feint.

Nay let Lake slide on her opponent’s blade, then, with a simple step forward, the tip of her sword pierced the neck of Archebald Grosstachier.

“Ah.” A flash of understanding appeared in his eyes, then nothing. Nay felt his fascinating Rreico leave him and disappear towards Trayx’s calm sea.

She breathed once, then pushed the corpse in front of her to the ground, picking Bubble back in the same movement.

Because this wasn’t over. There hadn’t been any reinforcements during her fight, as no one had been able to leave the room as she had always stood between the throne and the exit, but she was still alone against six, hurt, tired, and with an unconscious Trinne completely defenseless in a corner.

The young teenager bowman was giving her a shocked look, as were the two other bowmen, but the king and the two Carradin mages showed completely different Rreicos.

“Too bad. He was useful. Annoying, too. Toot sie meidjes.” Vahamut Shroediker announced. Whatever he had seen in the duel, he wasn’t considering the Legio as a menace anymore.

‘Kill the girls.’ He had just commanded.

He then rose, gripping the handle of his large two-handed axe.

And Nay panicked.

The mages were still harmless, but Nay was too far away to stand between the guards and her friend.

Between Trinne and the young teenager, who, despite his stupor at the result of the Kracht, was already raising his bow obediently, targeting the unconscious body of the young redhead.

The Legio started to run, but a wave unsettled her footing, and she took a very important second to get back up. The two other guards had raised their repeated bows towards her already, but Nay didn’t care about that at all.

She sprinted, dodging the arrows that started to fly at her, pushed them away with her blades or straight up cut them down without a thought.

The teenager had not shot yet.

“Honde, geen hesitasie.” Vahamut’s voice was more than threatening.

The teenager was hesitating still. And that’s all that Nay needed, just a second or two…

But the arrows were making her lost time, so much time.

And the teenager seemed to make a decision.

“Nooo!” Nay screamed, too overtaken by horror to avoid the last arrow from the two bowmen, which crashed into her shoulder.

At the same time, another arrow flew towards Trinne. Laying like this, Nay couldn’t see where she was hit, but she heard the atrocious sound of pierced flesh, followed by a pained whimper of her friend woken up in brutal fashion.

“Noch eens.”

‘Again.’ The king asked.

The boat lurched to the right, and Nay staggered, too tired, and fell on her knee. The two guards that had shot at her had now left their empty bow repeaters, and were advancing towards her prudently, sword and shield brandished.

The Legio could only see Trinne, the teenager and the king.

“No.” She said.

The young guard pulled on his bowstring.

“Mein king, einfach iets ist loss…” Nay heard. The words had escaped the lips of one of the mages. He was warning their king that something abnormal was happening.

She did not care.

“No.” She repeated.

“No.” She said in echo at herself.

Nay raised her eyes. There was something there, in the corner of her vision, a shadow, looking at Trinne with her, looking at her Hani trying to raise her upper body to the wall, an arrow in her chest, as she braved death, with fear and acceptance, facing the young teenager that was going to kill her. But then her eyes turned to meet Nay’s, and in their exchanged gaze, she understood something else. In her expression, there was only terror left.

“Nay, don’t do…”

“Help me.” The young woman with cloudy eyes asked.

And the millions of shadows answered her.

And light ceased to exist.

“Wa…”

“Aa…”

“Mei…”

“Hu…”

“Gott…”

“Gott…”

Six voices, six men, started to shout at the same time, two even began asking for their God, but it only lasted for a fraction of a second. Then came a series of truly abominable cracks, and those beginning of words became their last.

They hadn’t had time to understand, to shout, that their Rreico had already begun their trip to the calm hell of Trayx.

The three bowmen, the two mages, and the king of Mindor had just died at the same time, with no witnesses, as they had been swallowed whole by the pure black power of the Legio’s phantom miracle.

Nay couldn’t see a thing, but she knew, deep in her bones, that this artificial night extended way beyond the throne room, and that except her own rhythm of life and the one of Trinne, there was nothing alive around her anymore.

Not a second had passed, and there were only two Rreicos in a ship that should have been filled with hundreds.

“Oh Lebe…” Said the Legio in despair. “What have I done?”

“Nay!” Trinne shouted.

This. I did this. Nay reminded herself. She stood back up, but not without shivering in fear and disgust, as it felt as if someone had just helped her get on her feet. Despite the Rreico telling her that there was no one next to her.

“This way.” Said the voice of a young Nay in front of her.

Nay followed it.

“Nay?” Trinne asked. “I ca…hhh…can’t see…anything.”

And as if to answer the desires of the duchess of Gite, the night became slightly less complete, letting the Legio see her own feet, and the beginning of the red hue of her friend’s hair.

The young woman with cloudy eyes immediately knelt down next to her. “Hani? Arey ou okay?”

“No…hhh…I’ve got a…an arrow…hhhh…in the chest…hhh…lung, I think. Get it…hhh…out.”

Nay quickly inspected the wound. Not immediately life-threatening, but the arrow had gone in deep, and the risk of infection was very high.

“Nay…your shoulder…”

“I know. My armour took most of the hit, I’m barely feeling it.”

“Hhhh…arrow.”

“If I remove it your lung collapses, and you die.”

“Ah…hhh…forgot about that little detail.”

Nay used Bubble to cut the arrow, letting only a small piece extrude from her friend, then she did the same thing with the projectile in her own shoulder.

“Can you walk?”

“Honestly? Hhh…I don’t think I can.”

Nay sheathed her blades back.

“Alright. I’m going to carry you then. Good? One…two…thre…”

“AARghhh!”

“Sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Her friend now in her arms, Nay stood back up, once again helped by something that wasn’t there.

“Nay, I really…like you…hhh…a lot…but that power of yours…it’s good enough…for Fredere’s best…horror stories.”

“Shh. I’ll make us a door for Lebe’s Church and…” The Legio was interrupted by a crystal and glass door, that had appeared just in front of her.

“Ok. I hear you Hani.” Nay concluded.

“Wha?” Carried in the Legio’s arms, the young redhead couldn’t look at anything but Nay’s chest or face.

“This way.” Said the voice of a young Nay.

Trinne laughed in a pained growl, cut short by her shaky breaths. “By Ja I don’t remember…hhh…you sounding so cre…hhh…creepy.”

“Haha.” Answered Nay with no humour in her voice. She then stepped towards the door, only seeing darkness behind it.

The Legio didn’t hesitate more than that before she put her hand on the handle.

And then hundreds…no thousands of panicked Rreicos appeared all around her, accompanied with almost as many human voices.

And then other voices, that did not have Rreicos at all.

The first one: “Shh, shh. Drop your weapons, or do you prefer to come with me? Do you want to come with me? Let your weapons go and go back home.”

“Was!? Nee, ich…AAAAARGHHHH…MEINE HÄNDEN. M…meine hän…den.”

Then another.

“Shh, shh. Drop your weapons, or do you prefer to come with me? It’s not nice to be not nice.”

“What is going on…By Ja I shall never…”

“AAAAARGHH.” Crack.

“Oops.”

“Fine, fine! I’ve dropped my weapons!”

“You’re nice! Hahahaha!”

And such dialogues repeated, over and over, hundreds of times, all around the Legio and Trinne.

Neither one of them dared to say something.

“This way.” Said the voice of a young Nay.

The Legio started walking again, feeling the sand softly squeeze under her feet. They were standing on the coast of the Refugees, and this had to be the start of the counter-offensive.

“The angels will never miss what I have done.” Nay realized in despair.

She then felt the hand of her friend hug her cheek.

“Hhh…we…find a so…hhh…solution. I promise.”

Nay could only admire the positivity of her friend in this place that looked just like purgatory. But in truth, Trinne probably had no idea where they were and what was really happening around them.

“This way.” The Legio continued to follow her own childish voice.

“What is happening, madam?” The voice of a boy or young teen pierced through all the others, clearly close to where they were.

“I do not know, Storr. But focus. He is counting on us.” This voice though, feminine and mature, Nay knew it.

She didn’t have to go very far to be sure, she almost fell into a trench, where the Archbishop of Lebe and a young God-Touched were working on saving the life of a soldier that Nay had never seen before.

“Darae!?” The highest dignitary of the Lebe priesthood exclaimed.

“Need help. Trinne was hit in the chest, lung.”

“I would do it, but since this…whatever this dark angelic mist is, came from the Carradin flotilla, I became unable to use any of the miracles given to me by my goddess. I can only give first aid, without the help of the Gods. But get down, fast, before you get even more harmed.

The Legio obeyed, being careful not to fall.

She looked at the man that layed unconscious in the middle of the trench. He had lost an arm and wasn’t moving, the young God-Touched had just finished making a tourniquet around his wound.

The Legio then tried to pull back the Rreico inside of her, to call back the shadows of herself running wild, but it was hopeless.

“Heal her or come with me.” Nay heard the whisper of her own childish voice next to the Archbishop’s ear, who jumped, screamed, and trembled in response.

“What!? Who!? What have they summoned here that…”

“Priestess. The Duchess, please.” Nay tried to forget about the nightmare that she had unleashed.

“I…I told you that…”

“Try again. Please.”

“Fine! But I’ll need to remove the…you’ve been harmed as well!?”

“Trinne first!”

“Fine, yes! Duchess. This is going to hurt.” And with a technique that seemed rehearsed thousands of times, the Archbishop pulled the arrow tip piercing Trinne’s torso in one swift move. The redhead crumbled in Nay’s arms without a sound, the pain making her lose consciousness.

“You are our saviour, you Lebe, and you shall always save us. Love triumphs, death falls back, because with you we are happy.”

At the end of the chanted psalm, Nay saw the Rreico around the Archbishop take almost a concrete form and enter Trinne’s wound. She also witnessed her own Rreico move away to let the Archbishop’s power work.

The hole in her friend’s chest stopped bleeding almost instantly, but it didn’t close entirely.

“The lung is repaired, but we’ll need to take care of the rest of the wound with traditional means. She is out of danger for now, but I will use a miracle to stave off infections later. Storr! Try your miracle, whatever happened seems only temporary!”

“Yes, Archbishop!”

Nay held her friend firmly in her arms, feeling an emotion of pure relief so strong it almost knocked her out.

“Phew!” Her voice had said that, but it was not her own.

The Archbishop barely registered the ghost in the night, she was busy taking care of the arrow in Nay’s shoulder and tried to chant her miracle while the Legio was unmoving due to relief.

And then she looked in disbelief at the lack of anything happening.

“My! Biach! What in Ja’s name is going on?”

Trinne woke up.

“Urgh. Nay. You’re bleeding on me.”

“Ha.”

“Well, bandages it is for you then. Storr, is there warm water left somewhere?”

“I’ll bring this to you at once, madam.”

The Archbishop looked at the Legio again. “Why do I feel that you two know what is going on.”

She was interrupted by many, many voices.

“Can we go back? Is Rin rin okay?”

“I…yes.” Nay answered with a half-smile and a tear, her gaze not leaving her young redheaded friend in her arms.

And in a fraction of a second, the night left, dominated once again by light, as it rushed Nay like a terrified Byrn pack running for their den, disappearing inside her core.

The Archbishop of Lebe screamed in horror and crawled backward until she reached the wounded man behind her.

“By Lebe. What are you?”

But her voice and surprise were overtaken by the hundreds of orders shouted everywhere around them on the battlefield, by both sides of the war.

“General retreat!”

“Roekzoek! Roekzoek!”

“Biach!” The priestess swallowed her fear. “We are very close to the ramparts, we need to be the first ones to leave. But you better explain what all of this was aft…Storr, help me carry him!” She did not finish her sentence, her focus already back on the wounded man.

Nay watched her friend.

“Can you walk?”

“…I think. Yes. You can still carry me if you want though.”

“I think that with my shoulder, I’d rather it be you that help me.”

“…Biach! Your shoulder!? Why didn’t you ask the Archbishop for a mira…ah. I was out of it for a while, yes?”

Nay nodded.

Finally, they helped each other get back up, and walked towards Gite. Its ramparts were truly not far, barely twenty yards or so. The two Lebe God-Touched had most likely followed the back line of the army, and had stayed far from the fighting. Nay could see a giant crowd of soldiers running to one of the breaches in the city wall, and she followed the mass.

They hadn’t stepped three meters when a man, a Gite soldier with no rank, stopped next to them. “Ai’l helpcha.” He said with the very typical accent of low-quarter fishermen. And without waiting, he took Trinne’s other shoulder to help her stand.

“Thanks.”

The man, who had to be close to his thirties, only answered with a groan. “Th’s why a girly like you two shannent fight. Can’t handle a bassfish when ai’shee that.”

Trinne sighed in disapproval, but Nay couldn’t stop a laugh from escaping her mouth.

“I’d honestly say the same for you men. I don’t really want this for you either. What if we collectively decided that no war is the best solution?”

“Ha! Convince t’che biachings of the West, and ai’l follow chu in that.”

And on those last words, they finally reached Gite.