I spot a column of smoke rising from the south and pause. I glance around to find a hill and climb it. There are two fires, not one. I frown because that means there's either a large force or two groups facing off.
While I have no clue what could have happened, this can't be good news when added to the fact there are few patrols around. It wouldn't be difficult to imagine that they got caught and held back as bait for me.
Still, I can't go north without making sure they escaped. I take stock of my energy. I have sixty portions with half in my reserve. I anchor the surplus to my armor so I can activate my defensive runic construct at any moment and start walking south.
I'll have to steal a horse to escape considering my health. At best, only a Countess' regeneration could allow them to pursue with a few followers and I can deal with that even with very little flow.
When dealing with a larger number of foes I can't outrun, I can't let myself get encircled. That'll open you up to charges and ranged projectiles. It's that or fight to exhaustion and then be captured.
You can kill until they break again. That stops being effective very quickly when facing more than the numbers I handled last time. Liz falls silent, she dislikes thinking so hard about these things when the solution is obviously to slaughter and keep slaughtering until none are left standing to threaten us.
I start calculating how much flow I can afford to burn on air-needles but then reconsider. Those constructs are difficult to aim and not too hard to dodge, air-blades suit the battlefield better because even an injury that isn't debilitating may cause a soldier to be pulled back since there are others to take over.
As I make my way south, a squad on patrol appears atop a small hill. They immediately lift up their camp and turn to retreat. Early in the chase, the ten would have engaged me but it seems they're taking me seriously now. I'm committed now that they know my location.
I climb the small hill they left, aware that it isn't a coincidence this location is quite near the one where the group camped a few days ago when they left the forest. I hope they managed to get on a boat and that I'll find a few hundred soldiers even though that would be a bad spot for me to end up in.
Unfortunately, I arrive at the top and witness almost an entire company of soldiers in chain-mail with about thirty of the fighters I faced with weapons like spiked axes, war-hammers, and maces.
A hundred enemies between me and a group of thirty or so runaways gathered together around a single large fire. I blink in dismay at the size of the group, baffled because I can recognize the silhouettes and know that they're those I meant to protect.
They were never meant to be so close to danger and that failure hits me hard because I can see that they have no way to safely run with such little distance between them and their pursuers. I'm actually surprised they weren't tied by ropes yet but it likely won't last.
What happened? Doesn't matter now, they're just as captive as if they were surrounded. I have to defeat all these soldiers while both ensuring their safety and making sure I don't give Wraith an opportunity to catch me off-guard.
He wouldn't have had time to travel here from the south if he disembarked at the meeting spot, but he would have caught up with me by now if he was in Meiridin. I take a step downhill, resolved to end this.
By the time I take a second step, a troop of a dozen riders in plate armor arrives. I stop before taking a third. The varying crests and eclectic styles of these armors tell me there are ten Nobles, one Templar, and one Exemplar.
The latter two wear thicker plate armor with a practical design, one with a silver lion, the other with a golden lion. This isn't good, there wasn't supposed to be enough temple guards in Meiridin for them to afford to send an expedition but an Exemplar?
Perhaps... The purpose is more yours than mine sister, but the reputation is mine to make and the fight mine to win. Stingy. I'll wake you if they're in danger. Fine.
I take my third step in the same direction as before without angling to the west to meet the riders. Their arrival has made it so that there is no hope of successfully running away so I must do battle with everything I have.
Yet, it also almost guarantees that Wraith isn't here because he would have tried to lull me to ambush me. While I don't know how I feel about that, it is certainly a good thing for my chances of victory if not for my vengeance.
As I travel through the plains, the riders angle to intercept my path towards the soldiers already moving to form ranks. Instead of continuing to meet them half-way, I stop where I am to force them to come to me because it's better for me to fight them away from the infantry.
To give them no choice but to come, I start shaping a large air-blade with a dozen portions that I very much plan to use on the soldiers if they don't stop me. As expected, the riders turn straight for me and start hauling ass.
“Jessica Freepath, surrender now and these runaways will have their crimes forgiven!” A man with crossed swords engraved on his shield calls out.
“Are you blocking my way?” I shout back, ignoring the proposal.
“Give up or I will give the order to escort them back to Meiridin right now!” The man counters.
“Draw your weapons on me and I will put you in the ground.” I utter coldly while aiming the air-blade at them with my hand despite the fact their plate armors are very unlikely to be breached by it. “I offer you the same courtesy I've given previously, Nobles. You can decide to leave with your injured whenever you wish and I will not pursue.”
“Wait.” An old authoritative voice arises from the suit of armor with a golden lion. The perceived age of the figure surprises me. “Why rebel in such a stubborn way? The Order can help these runaways, there is no need for further bloodshed over their future.”
“Rebel? I am no subject to be rebelling.” I counter flatly. “What I've done has been to protect myself from those who sought me out.”
“You're one of Izla Meria's Nobles, how is this not rebellion?!” The woman exclaims.
“Noble? I thought I made it clear I'm a peasant.” I deny because it's important to me and the Izla there's no confusion on the matter. “I have no title nor do I wish for one.”
“Liar, how could...” The Lordling starts.
“I'm quite convinced there is no lie. The Izla has made changes, she could have received individual pledges and the name 'Jessica Freepath' isn't unknown to the Order.” The Exemplar interrupts.
“You've kept things from us.” The Noble notes somberly.
“The Order wished to hear what excuse you would rely on to obtain its help, and your lack of knowledge has as much to do with your Liege's silence as to ours.” The old temple guard replies without a shred of guilt. “It's clear this began because your spies were caught and lost when they tried to attack her. Your attempt to turn events in your favor have failed because she's turned out to be more than you could chew.”
“We will not be seeking Arbitration.” The Noble spits out.
“But, she may.” The old Exemplar notes
“I won't be doing that.” I casually deny.
“Hm.” The old man exhales loudly. “Then, will you tell me what your purpose was? I know enough to infer you have reasons for your blatant actions.”
“I see no reason to entertain this, Exemplar! I'm...” The Noble begins.
“You will wait for our conversation to end or I will take it as an admission from Nobility that these runaways were justified to flee and help them reach Hetlan, which I may do either way.” The old man utters with a dark tone.
“Old fool, you have not the strength to hinder us.” The Noble counters, moving his horse in front of the Exemplar. “We took you along because you may have been of help but it also ensures the Order won't be snooping around the operation. Stand down or I'll have you held captive!”
“Ha, you and what army?” The elderly man mocks, causing the other Nobles to straighten on their saddles. “I may be old but not so much that an uncouth youngster is able to breach my armor.”
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“What is it you wish to obtain here, Exemplar? She's breached the Emperor's peace!” A Ladyling intervenes.
“I've yet to determine that.” The Exemplar denies. “I was about to find out when he interrupted.”
“... Then do so, quickly, and stand aside if you aren't to help.” She utters flatly.
“Countess Marks, this is...” The Lordling starts.
“Whatever it is the Chancellor has done, we will not fight with Exemplar Siegfried to cover it up.” The Ladyling sharply cuts him off.
Her words imply she's already determined they are at fault. Considering I'm definitely not the reason, then she must hold a favorable bias for the Order's opinion which seems to be that I'm defending myself. This is far more peaceful a meeting than I expected, and I don't like it.
“Viki is dead.” I speak up to get this over with and put these idiots in the ground.
“Vikiana Ulhark?” The old Exemplar, Siegfried, asks.
The Templar squeezes his fists so hard his gauntlets make strident sounds, he pulls on his reins so hard his mount neighs and turns on itself. The other Nobles don't have such blatant reactions of surprise or anger but their immobility suggests they're stunned by the news.
“Don't know her last name, never came up, but she was an Exemplar.” I say.
“She gave it up after joining the Order, no matter.” Siegfried utters with a chilling voice. “How did it happen?”
“She was killed through the aid of poison during a skirmish with assassins presumably attempting to reach her daughter, me, and Elizabeth Vil.” I explain. “I've tried tracking those responsible but so far I only have one suspect that was referred to me as Wraith. Since I'm quite certain Cenwalh is behind this, I've determined that the women and their newborn who were held captive by Suxen weren't safe anymore and am thus ensuring they reach Hetlan without incident.”
“Fools.” The Ladyling mutters.
“Elizabeth Vil was sighted in these parts!” The Lordling intervenes. “Who's to say the Izla isn't framing us for something their hero did?!”
I snap my eyes to him. He flinches but recovers quickly and holds my gaze. He knows something. I need to catch him alive. I reach over my shoulder and slowly draw my broadsword.
“You mean that fake who couldn't lift a hammer half the weight of E.Vil's if she tore her muscles trying?” I ask with a somber laugh.
“The Count makes a point.” Siegfried utters slowly. “You're known to have a relationship with Elizabeth Vil and a similar hatred for Nobility.”
“I could care less about your opinion, old man.” I seethe. “What you believe is your business, I shall do as I wish and none here will prevent it from being so.” I spin my weapon in my hand once to punctuate the thought.
“You've no chance, lay down your weapon and this air-blade.” Ladyling Marks speaks up.
“One moment.” Exemplar Siegfried intervenes. “Help me down.” He tells the Templar.
The temple guard hurriedly jumps off his warhorse and rushes up to the elder who he helps get down his own mount. The Exemplar then walks over to me. He leans down to pass under my air-blade as he sticks his gauntlet under his left arm and pulls his right hand out to extend it to me.
His fingers are gnarled like old roots and have wrinkles but most impressive are the calluses that show he has not stopped training his swordsmanship despite his advanced age. I plant my weapon in the ground and reach back.
His hand feels warm, if a bit small even considering his bent stature. I'm curious to see the face behind the helmet but decide to merely shake hands without pointlessly prolonging this. He holds onto my palm for a few moments before pulling back.
“Steady, with a confident grip. I do believe you've told me the truth but not the whole of it.” Exemplar Siegfried asserts.
“No one ever does.” I note humorously. “Am I to fight you today?”
“Not unless you plan to breach the peace, so far it seems the Chancellor and Queen are determined to follow in the King's path. I will be representing our Emperor in safely escorting His subjects to Hetlan, good luck to you.” The old man tells me and turns away to walk back to his warhorse.
I blink in surprise because he made no mention of them being runaways unlike at first. It might mean the Order considers they have a right to leave if they justifiably believe their lives at risk.
Perhaps I should have taken them to the Temple in Meiridin... Too late now and I don't trust them. Rather than refusing to act because Nobility is attacking me, it seems like the Order is pissed at them and unwilling to help.
I shake my head to focus on my own concerns only to find that the Nobles are waiting for the Exemplar and Templar to leave. The Lordling is squeezing the hilt of his sword as if angry while the Ladyling Marks seems focused on me and unfazed by the Exemplar's decision.
As soon as the temple guards have vacated the premises, the Lordling raises his hand and releases flow in concentric interlocked rings that swiftly spread out and dissipate, causing my air-blade to flicker and crumble.
“Ha.” I chortle.
The ten Nobles charge in a staggered line. I rearrange the energy into five unstructured air-blades and launch them before they cross half the distance. Caught off guard, they try to pull their mounts away, but they were going too fast and the blades each slice through two warhorses at the same time, severing legs and cutting through chests.
The mounts all crumble, some straight on while others drop and slide on their sides. I feel a twinge of sadness because the animals will die or have to be put down but these warhorses would have trampled me if given the chance.
The Nobles, on the other hand, drop in a cacophony of steel but get out of this relatively unscathed despite the fact the disruption construct shut down their defensive constructs.
The air-blades impacted most in their thighs and failed to do more than bend the armor plates inward. A few have had their greaves consequently deformed but I doubt it'll hinder them much.
I advance slowly with my broadsword in hand, conscientious that the company of soldiers is already advancing forward. I gather three portions of energy and send another air-blade at the Ladyling Marks who seems the most dangerous to me.
She rises up to one knee and places her shield in front of herself. I immediately pull back the unstructured flow to avoid wasting the two and a half portions by slamming it into her shield. It might ruin the item but it wouldn't significantly injure her.
“Impossible!” The Lordling exclaims as he shoves his large horse off his left leg. “She can't have, this is impossible!”
I almost twist the energy into an air-needle to throw it at the opening in his visor but decide not to waste the energy to mock a dead man. I run my eyes to the other eight Nobles who likely don't have Count-level access to find that they're getting back up.
I lion's step at the Lordling to ensure he can't dismiss the disruption construct yet. He manages to get up before I reach and raises his shield. I frown and side-step around him to slam the heel of my boot into the breastplate of another to throw them back into the ground.
This is concerning. Can't use the sundering construct? Too complex. Jam the tip in their joints. Easier said than done. Like this. An image pops to my mind of Liz hacking a sword aside, smashing her pommel in a helmet to throw a head back, and then pulling back to jam the tip into the neck before the opponent can recover... only to be stopped by chain-mail.
Wow, impressive. I, um, you might need another weapon for this... or can you use an unstructured armor-piercing construct? I haven't tried but it'll consume too much energy to do that anyway.
Silver flickers. I lion's step back half a meter. Two longswords swing where I was from either side and cross in the middle. I bring my boot down on the flat on the weapons, slamming both on the ground.
The two Nobles to bend forward with their swords. I hear someone charging from behind so I shape and activate my perception construct. I reverse my grip and bring it overhead to feint a forceful attempt to breach their armor.
At the last moment, I sidestep to the left, dodging a powerful hack from the one rushing me. As the tip of that sword bites the dirt, I bring down my broadsword to lion's stab under my armpit.
Criiink. The tip scrapes on my opponent's armor without doing much but the impact does throw them back. I snap around and move in. My opponent is the Lordling who barely manages to bring his shield between us.
I launch an upward backhanded slash but aim so that my guard will impact the bottom edge of his shield, causing it to be thrown up. Then, I front-kick the man in his breastplate.
He staggers back, leaving an opening to possibly stab at the joint of his shoulder. I hear movement behind me and lion's step backward, avoiding two more crossing slashes. My back impacts a shield which stops me short. I feel pain from the barely healed wound I received not long ago.
This is bad. Would be the easiest battle with the Little one. Liz, that doesn't help. You know why I left it. Because her words got to you. A little, we shouldn't rush it. You best rush to end them because it's going to get a whole lot worse when the soldiers arrive.
I flick my sword up and parry a sideways swing. Then, I launch a backhanded frontal stab at my opponent's visor only to be blocked by Marks who interposes her shield.
She makes me rather annoyed but I have to keep moving so I pour energy into grooves and lion's step left to get around these two opponents. I then lion's step forward and to the right between their loose ranks to end up facing the Lordling again.
He panically tries to strike me down. I flick my broadsword back into a standard grip while the very tip of his sword falls impotently on my cuirass. Thuk. I twist my arm to the left before bringing the tip straight up with an elegant but deadly gesture.
Criiicrk. The mail snaps and the point of my weapon stabs into his armpit. I raise my hand up and to the left, angling my broadsword to plunge it deeper into his torso through two of his ribs.
Blood pours out along the edge of my blade. His shield slams into my chest but I lean into the blow, forcefully blocking it and preventing the Lordling from pushing me back.
I catch a glimpse of a movement to my right so I lion's step back as I lean to the side. A thick sword which can only be a two-handed weapon whooshes through the air where my neck was. Well, that would have snapped my spine. Just a little, not completely. I'm quite certain that a little is enough to kill me, Liz.