“What is the meaning of this?” Emeline asked.

Joan glanced to the queen. Well, she honestly thought it was pretty self explanatory. He was a traitor and intending to kill them all, but who was she to object to her buying them time? She glanced around at the men surrounding them. At least eight of them. Palkin and Ywain were probably the biggest threats, but the other six were armed and likely still dangerous if she wasn’t careful. Now would have been a really good time to have a powerful light elemental at her beck and call. She’d really need to see if she could get Korgron to fix that later.

Assuming she lived to see her.

“Your reign, your highness,” Palkin said. “Is at an end. I really must thank you. I’ve been trying to get an opportunity like this for years. To think you’d come running into it so easily.”

“You can’t honestly believe you’ll get away with this,” Emeline said, her eyes glancing from left to right. “Even if you do kill me, you’ll hang for this.”

“There are some risks, of that I can’t deny,” Palkin said. “But what worth doing doesn’t have risks? For the good of our kingdom, it must be done.”

“The good of our kingdom?” Emeline asked. “How is this for the good of our kingdom?”

“Humanity is at its end,” Ywain said. “All that remains is a handful of cities, a few towns and shrinking borders. The demons are our future. We shouldn’t be waging war against them, we should be inviting them in. Making allies. Joining them. Lord Palkin is the future of our people, not a dated, fading royal family.”

Joan gave a soft sigh. Yes, making allies with the demons wasn’t entirely a bad idea, so long as it was with Kazora. But she couldn’t imagine that the rest of humanity would exist very long if they tried to ally with the Demon Lord. Worse, if humanity fell then she doubted the elves or dwarves would last much longer. The battle was already almost too overwhelming for any of them.

She didn’t even want to imagine how many people would die in such a conversion, either. Thousands, at best. The Demon Lord wouldn’t allow a single human to exist if he could avoid it. If he didn’t just mass exterminate most of them. That was before even considering what she knew about the Demon Lord now.

There weren’t any Chosen on the way, either. No delaying, if they wanted to live they’d need to fight their way out of this. Joan gulped and then looked up at them again. She could probably take Ywain. Palkin, possibly. The other six she wasn’t so sure about. At least, not at the same time. Bauteut wasn’t much of a fighter, but she was an amazing healer. Emeline could likely do both, she’d been a mercenary for years. But how good was she still? Did Emeline even have a weapon? There was a bow on the queen’s saddle, but it was unstrung.

Of all the times for the queen to travel without her guard, now was not the time. No, she supposed that wasn’t true. She had her guards, unfortunately they had been supplied by the man intending to kill them. “Can you use a sword?” Joan asked under her breath to Emeline.

“What?” the queen asked, her voice low. “Of course.”

“Good,” Joan said before reaching down to the swords at her hip. She gave a soft prayer that, this time, it would work. She started to draw the demonic blade she had been gifted so long ago. For once, it slid from its sheath with ease--

Only for an arrow to fly past her cheek and make her jump.

“Hold,” Palkin said, his eyes narrowed on her. “Ah, I’d forgotten about that. So she’s the one?”

“Yes, sire,” Ywain said.

“A shame,” Palkin said. “We really did have such plans for you, child. I do hope you can at least appreciate the amount of effort we went through to get a weapon so close to the royal family.”

Joan froze and looked between Palkin and Emeline. “What?” she asked.

“Oh, it’s not important,” Palkin said before shaking his head. “Actually, First Blade?”

Ywain went rigid, sitting at attention. “Yes, my lord?”

“We did go to such work to make that blade,” Palkin said. “Once this battle is over, retrieve it.”

“As you wish, my lord,” Ywain said.

Joan blinked and looked around. There were a lot of them. How many of them could she take down on her own? She glanced back to Emeline. How many could she take down? If she could just isolate a few of them at a time then--

Joan felt herself perk up a little. That was it. “Ywain,” Joan said. “You want this sword back? Fine. I challenge you to a duel.”

For a moment there was silence. Then Palkin gave a light chuckle. “Ah, so she’s funny as--”

“I accept,” Ywain said.

That knocked the smile off Palkin’s face and he turned towards Ywain. “What? What do you think you’re doing?”

“My duty, my lord,” Ywain said before climbing down from his mount. “This won’t take long.”

Palkin’s eyes narrowed on him for a few moments before he gave a soft sigh and shook his head. “Very well. It’s not like we don’t have time. Just make it quick.”

Joan blinked a few times and then looked between the two. Was that really going to work? Was he really going to fight her? She slowly moved forward, though she glanced around at the men surrounding them.

“They won’t interfere,” Ywain said. “So long as your friends don’t.”

“Right,” Joan said, though she had her doubts. Still, if his title really meant something, then if she could take him out of the picture before they had to fight, it really might improve their chances. She slowly drew the demonic blade from its sheath… Before tossing it, blade first, into the ground in front of Emeline.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ywain asked.

“I’m going to fight you, but not with that,” Joan said. “If I’m fighting you, I’m fighting you with everything I have. With my own sword.” She held out her right hand and a moment later Guardian Nova appeared in her hand.

For a moment there was silence, then Palkin gave a light laugh. “You really believe that blade can compare to one of my demonic blades? Ywain, show her what my blades can do.”

Ywain, to his credit, wasn’t laughing. His eyes had narrowed and he drew his own blade, the silvered blade glimmering in the sunlight. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this,” he said softly.

“To try and kill the queen?” Joan asked.

“To face you again,” Ywain said. “Last time I underestimated you. This time it won’t be a draw.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“It really won’t,” Joan said, unable to keep the taunting out of her voice. “This time I’m actually armed.” She knew it was a bad idea, but she couldn’t help herself.

Ywain’s eyes narrowed and he ran at her. Joan paused only a second to cast her spell, enhancing her body once more. He swung his sword to the right, the demonic blade cutting through the air so fast she could barely even see it.

But she could see it. She brought her own blade up, catching the blade with the flat of her own and deflecting it with ease. Ywain didn’t stop, however. He swung again and again, stabbing, slashing, cutting and striking at her, driving her back.

Joan moved back, occasionally glancing back to ensure she had space to move without tripping over anything. He was better than she remembered. Faster. Had he fought like this when she had been in that tunnel she probably wouldn’t have stood a chance. As humans went, he really was skilled.

Unfortunately for him, she was used to fighting things that went far, far beyond the reaches of what most mortals could ever hope to achieve. He was skilled, but that was all. Just skilled. So long as she didn’t let her guard down, she could keep up with ease. It wasn’t even like her fight with the prince, Ywain didn’t fight demons, there was no need for him to enhance his body just to hurt whoever he was facing.

She almost felt bad. At least, she would have if he wasn’t intending to kill her. She kept stepping back, inch by inch, giving ground until, finally, she was pushed back to one of the trees. She pushed a foot back against it and barely suppressed the urge to grin. She could see it in his eyes, the moment he thought he had won. That he had driven her back to her defeat. Overconfidence truly was a fatal flaw.

When Ywain’s sword slashed at her, she moved. Ducking under the blade, she shoved out against the tree with all her might, pushing herself forward. He had only a moment to realize what she was doing, but it wasn’t enough. He tried to bring his sword up to protect himself, but she was already inside his guard. She smashed the pommel of her sword into his hand, making his sword fall from his grip. He stumbled back, but it was too late.

He went entirely still when her blade moved to his throat. “Do you yield?” Joan asked.

A moment later she mentally kicked herself. She should have beheaded him. She really should have. A quick slash and it would have been done. Over in an instant. But it didn’t feel right, now that he was unarmed. At least, not in a duel. If it had been against more than--

Piercing pain shot through her right shoulder and she let out a shriek of pain, whipping around in time to barely see and avoid a second arrow flying at her.

“Joan!” Bauteut yelled, taking a step forward and only stopping when an arrow landed in front of her.

Joan quickly jumped back, readying herself for another attack from Ywain. However, he didn’t move to strike her. Instead, he looked furious. “What are you doing?” he yelled, his eyes focused on the men who’d shot her.

Joan took a moment to glance at her shoulder. Yes, that was definitely an arrow lodged into it.

“You lost,” Palkin said. “I’ve not come this far just to let a child get in my way. Kill them.”

“Cease!” Ywain yelled.

Palkin gave a soft, annoyed sigh. “First Blade, don’t forget your duty.”

Joan glanced between the pair and then towards the men surrounding them. Their bows were drawn and trained on them, but not shooting yet. They seemed confused, unsure. She was feeling a lot less foolish for sparing him now, at least.

“I had not yielded,” Ywain said. “Even if I had, they were not to interfere!”

Palkin shook his head. “Ywain, what is your duty?”

Ywain stared up at Palkin, his hands clutching into fists. “To serve you, my lord. But--”

“Then you will serve me by doing as I say,” Palkin said.

Joan tried to ignore the burning pain in her right shoulder, inching to Ywain’s left so she had a clear sight of Palkin.

“Kill them,” Palkin said. “If it means that much to you, you can finish her off now. She--”

He never got the chance to finish his sentence. Joan’s throwing knife embedded itself deep in his throat, cutting off his words. He clutched at the metal obstruction, his eyes wide with horror. A second one embedded in his chest, a third going past his shoulder.

Joan flicked her left wrist, another blade forming in her hand, but she never got a chance to throw it. Ywain turned towards her, a look of fury on his face. She could see the arrows out of the corner of her eyes. She activated her bracer, a barrier of golden magic forming around her and causing the arrows to bounce off it. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw Bauteut doing the same, the barrier around her and the queen.

Joan had a little bit of time, at least, so she reached up and gripped the arrow in her shoulder. Oh, this was going to hurt. She wondered if it was even wise to do it. Probably not. Either way, she grabbed the shaft of the arrow and yanked it out. It took all she had to avoid screaming when the sharp pain flooded in, but she focused her magic, doing her best to heal the wound.

Oh, how she wished she had spent a few lifetimes learning better healing magic. As it was, the most she could do was stop the bleeding for the moment. Stupid Hero and his quick healing abilities. Assuming they lived past this, she’d have Emeline and Bauteut take care of it.

She gripped her sword in her left hand and let her magic flow through her once more before lowering the barrier. Ywain didn’t hesitate, his sword back in hand again and he ran straight at her.

Joan pulled back, quickly moving back amongst the trees and drawing him after her. An arrow embedded into the bark of one of the trees, making her let out a sigh of relief. Good, if she could draw some of their attention towards her, hopefully that would give Emeline and Bauteut a chance to fight the others.

That moment of relief was ended quickly when Ywain was on her. If he had any qualms about attacking a wounded duelist he didn’t show it now, gripping his sword in both hands and swinging with all his might. She yelped and dropped back, rolling on the ground and sending shocks of pain through her shoulder. She tried to ignore it, though, instead lifting her right arm up through the pain and casting a small, simple spell. Five shards of ice formed in the air around her before flying forward.

Ywain deflected two of them, one getting through his guard and slashing across his cheek and the last two narrowly missing. Joan almost stepped in, but instead was forced to stumble backwards when another arrow flew past her. She let out a shriek of pain when she backed into a tree, sending jarring pain through her shoulder.

She saw the flash of silver and barely dropped in time, the bark cutting into her, but it was definitely better than the alternative. Ywain’s sword dug into the tree, lodging deep into the wood. His eyes went wide.

Not that she blamed him. He’d overstepped. Ywain started to pull his sword back, but it was too little too late. In a single movement, Joan plunged her sword up, Guardian Nova burying up and under his ribs, into his heart. In a second, it was over. She pulled her sword back and kicked out, knocking him away from her, before quickly ducking behind the tree to avoid another arrow.

Joan reached up to grab the tree, pulling herself back to her feet. Her shoulder hurt, but she was alive. For now. She still had her sword, her barrier could still work for a little bit and she wasn’t drained of her energy. All things considered, she was doing pretty good. Better than she expected.

She heard a few yells and the sound of galloping hooves. Good, maybe some of them decided to run off.

Joan gripped her sword tightly in her left hand, bracing herself. Only six, at most, left. They could do this. She heard footsteps coming towards her. Well, soon it would be five.

She darted out from around the tree, her sword raised up. Only to barely stop herself in time when she saw Bauteut running towards her. She paused and looked around for a moment.

Three of them were on the ground, if they were alive she couldn’t say, but they weren’t moving. The other three were nowhere to be seen. Joan stared up at Bauteut for a few moments before letting her hand lower. “We did it?”

“You two did it,” Bauteut said.

“We,” Joan said again.

“Fine, we,” Bauteut said. “Let me look at that shoulder.”

Joan nodded before leaning forward. It wasn’t until Bauteut had her arms around her that she realized just how tired she was and she leaned forward, resting on the other girl. She only barely stopped herself from dropping her sword, too tired to even sheath it.

“Hey! Joan? Are you okay?” Bauteut asked. “Don’t pass out.”

“Not going to,” Joan said softly. “It has just been a long, long, long couple of days.”

“I can see that,” Bauteut said. “Just stand for a little bit longer. We’re almost done. Okay?”

“Okay,” Joan said before giving a small smile.

They were almost done. Almost home. Almost safe.

The world was almost okay. Just a little longer.

Just a few more steps.

“So, a crush on me, Searle and Qakog?” Bauteut asked.

“It has been a very, very, very long couple of months,” Joan said sheepishly. “Also, my tastes are either very good or very, very bad.”