Our party of Hero-summoner pairs approaches a large camp’s entrance. We’ve reached Geraldi, but it looks like we won’t actually be entering the town. As soon as we’d caught sight of the city, I noticed a large military entrenchment right next to it. Apparently, we’re joining up with this so-called punitive force. It’s really not all that many men compared to the now destroyed Foksly Regional Militia; I’d say only a few hundred guys.

“Why would we need any men all the way up here in northern Andestine anyway?”

I ask as we dismount by the city gates and approach the adjacent camp.

“Beats me.”

Arciel shrugged.

As we pass through the camp’s entrance, watched by fully clad soldiers in shining armor, I notice it right away.

Yeah.

These guys?

They're on a whole ‘nother level. I couldn’t help but stare in awe at the soldiers as we passed through the camp. Most of them were Silver Ranked Knights, judging from their armor. Some were Gold Ranked, but they were vastly outnumbered. Instead of sitting around with their thumbs up their asses like the regional militia, all of them are doing something productive; some are sparring, others are performing maintenance on their equipment, and others are gathered around tables, discussing tactics and plans. So this is the difference between a levy and professional soldier, huh? I just wonder how much better they’ll fare in combat. I’m not so much an expert as to judge their skills by vision alone.

Man, I want a gun. That be sweet, I could reenact that scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark where Indy just pulls out a gun and caps a guy instead of fighting him. I could just mow down the Sidonians, lotta good those years you spent building up your sword skills, I have a gun!

Anyways, we approach one of the larger tents in the encampment, large flags bearing white and green coloring flutter from the majority of the tent’s poles. At the front of the tent are two people. At first glance, they both seem to be Heroes, as they’re very unique in their appearance. One was a tall and buff guy, he had gray hair and muttonchops, and equally gray beady eyes. He doesn’t look as old as Clarke, but he’s definitely in his forties. This guy’s big, like, a head taller than me. His armor isn’t full plate, it seems much more moderate, lots of chainmail, fur, and leather buckles. The other person seemed miniscule when compared to this giant, she had neck length red hair and orangey eyes. Two tufts of hair by her ears made her look like a dog. Her armor seems more like dark colored clothing, and on her back, I see a huge sheath and handle for a sword. Judging from the handle’s shape, it looks like a katana, one that’s as big as she is. What’s up with these women having gear that’s way too big for them? Granted, this girl looks older than Fifio and Arciel, but she’s not older than me.

Jeremiah and Fifio pass by the two supposed guards with a nod and little wave respectively as they pass into the tent. Before I’m able to follow suit however, the big guy steps in front of the tent, beaming a smile at me and the rest of our group.

“So you’re the new Heroes huh? Glad to meet you, welcome to the family!” He spoke gruffly and happily at the same time, like a friendly giant. “Name’s Danton, Danton Bales!”

Beaming a grin, he extends a hand toward me. Wow, I am so glad I’ve found one normal person in this world. He actually wants to shake my hand and introduce himself. Figures, he does seem much more mature than anyone I’ve spoken to. I smile and return the handshake in kind.

“Shepard. Nice to meet you.”

“Ah, a firm grip and straight back, you look like a fine young man!”

He offers the same gesture to Epsilon, who, timidly, shakes his hand and introduces herself as I had.

“…” Danton eyed the girl next to him, who had her eyes closed and her arms crossed. “…This here is Kana, she’s too busy trying to look cool to, you know, be polite.” Danton stressed the words be polite specifically at Kana, in a fatherly sort of way.

After a moment of silence, Danton gave a growl and lightly punched Kana in the arm, to which her face instantly flared in anger at Danton, and humiliation at us.

“…Nice, nice to meet you…”

Having her little façade slandered by Danton, she pouted. I gave a nod to her. As Arciel walked past me into the tent, Clarke and Danton started to chit chat as if they were best buddies.

“Ah, Clarke, how has the little Miss Arcielvitzi been treating you?”

How ballsy, asking that literally as soon as Arciel walked through into the tent. I like this guy.

“As good as you’d think I suppose. Well, what’s this all about then, surely you know why Trissdean’s put together such a force?”

Danton shook his head.

“I don’t have a clue. Well come in, come in, we’ve been waiting for your group to start the meeting.” Danton parted the entrance for the tent, beckoning us inside.

All of us, including Danton and Kana, file into the somewhat crowded tent. In the center of the tent is a table, holding a large map and little map markers upon it. Surrounding the table, are a couple guys with their helmets removed wearing silvery armor; the armor is a different tinge from a Silver Ranked Knight, so are these guys Platinum then? Including the Platinum ranks, a woman in the most official librarian’s getup I’ve ever seen was staring directly at me and Epsilon. She held a paper in one hand and a quill in the other. This must be Councilwoman Trissdean. Arciel told me she’d apparently be present with us. There’s another guy present, he had black hair and orange eyes, and was dressed in similar robes as Arciel, Clarke and Fifio, so I’m assuming he’s a summoner as well. That leaves a question, if both Danton and Kana are Heroes, there should be two summoners, but I only see one.

Trissdean clicked her tongue as everyone settled in around the table.

“You took your time Jeremiah.”

Jeremiah, his arms crossed, let out a grunt.

“Time spent cleaning up your mess.” He bobbed his head at Trissdean.

“Oh ho, you’d best hold your tongue Jeremiah.” Trissdean smirked deviously at Jeremiah, he shrugged in response.

Inhaling, Trissdean began,

“Well, I see we’re finally all here. Alright. We have three cohorts of Silver ranks here, and four summoner pairs as well, and I’m sure your all wondering why we need so much firepower. It should be obvious what we’re dealing with.”

She said four pairs, so either Danton or Kana isn’t a Hero. Huh. Silence followed Trissdean as she skimmed over everyone’s faces like a hawk.

“…Good, the info wasn’t leaked then. You’re to only keep this information to yourselves, do not tell anyone under you. The Sidonians. They’re on the continent, they are in Andestine.”

A slight murmur past over the people present.

“Right here. They’re only here.”

Her finger lands on a part of the map, it was a short distance away from a black dot labeled, Geraldi.

“That’s a mountain.”

Clarke says.

“Precisely, they’re hold up in there. From what the scouts say, all entrances, save one, leading into the mountain have been collapsed. They’ve barred themselves in; it makes their defense stronger, but it limits their escape, they’re confident they can win. From what we’ve gathered, the number of enemies are small, extremely so, we should be able to overwhelm them, no matter how ‘elite’ they are.”

…Now how in the hell did a force of Sidonians manage to get into Andestine? I thought Andestine’s navy was far bigger than the Sidonian one, and that Andestine had formed an impeccable blockade with it. They must’ve smuggled themselves in via other ships, that’s the only thing I can think of.

“…Pardon my interruption ma’am. But what are they doing here? How did they get on to the continent?”

The guy with black hair and orange eyes asks; contrary to Arciel, Clarke, and Fifio, he doesn’t have a staff. Trissdean’s eyes peer up at the guy from her map. Although he was a head taller than the woman, the guy visibly flinched from her stare.

“…You ask far too many questions Mikhail. I’ve already said more than I should, but the mountain housed a research lab. The personal are assumed dead, I obviously can’t let you in on what they were working on; The only reason I need you all for, is to kill the Sidonians. Once that’s done, me and the Yötiv Corporation will be standing by to clean up the rest. Do remember to issue out your gag orders, we need this incident to stay quiet; else hell will break lose if the people get word of Sidonians in Andestine, however little they are.”

She still didn’t answer the question of how they got into Andestine, but the guy, Mikhail, shuts up.

“Alright then,” She gives another passing glance at everyone in the tent, “We move in fifteen. Use the Yia’ Loaca road, break column a klick away from the mountain, then encircle the entrance.” She ran her finger up a brown line running away from Geraldi and to the mountain, tapping her finger as it reached the end. “Break camp, we’re taking the fight to those bastards.”

…

We’re closing in on the Sidonians via a road, specifically, it’s the ‘Yia’Loaca’. Andestine seems to actually bother naming its roads; probably out of pride because of how seriously they take road security and maintenance. The road is pretty big, it can easily handle a few columns of soldiers. The summoners have taken position at the center of the column, in case we do get attacked, they’ll be safe and able to provide fire support easily. The Heroes have been divvied up between vanguard and rearguard duty, with me, Danton, and Kana at the front, and Jeremiah and Epsilon at the rear.

Striding next to me is Danton, ahead of us, Kana.

“So where’d you come from huh? What life did you have before all this?”

“Oh, me?” Danton looked at me with a smile, “Fur trapper. Born and bred in the new world!”

‘New world’, that must be America, before the U.S had formed.

“Oh yeah? Were you a Brit? Frank? Spaniard?”

“I’d rather be my own, but, I was brought up in Nova Scotia, so that makes me a Frenchie.”

Ah. We have two Franks now.

“Jeremiah’s French, get along with him?”

“Him? He’s a weirdo if you ask me. He’s the oldest Hero so far, and damned strong because of it. He doesn’t feel French to me, just a confident lad; And he’s hardy too, he’s seen lot’s of Heroes go in his time.”

“What do mean they ‘Go’? I thought Heroes are immortal if the summoner is alive.”

Danton doesn’t reply for a second.

“…Well, the most common way for a Hero to die is for the summoner to stop breathing’, and no one being around to take over the mana supply…” Danton fell silent for another moment, “There have been some who’ve taken their own lives. It’s damn grim, I’ve seen it happen myself, poor kids just get sick of it, they just…” Danton trails off as he evidently loses his train of thought.

I change the subject, you know, cause I’m not a jerk.

“Well, who was winning over the new world back when you were there?”

“Oh the British were getting a right tussling I’ll tell you that. Where do you come from then? You sound to know of my time.”

Danton’s smile reignites, and his words endlessly flow once more.

“A country formed in the new world, I was born there, they’ve got that whole time stored away in dusty books now.”

“Oh ho really? Who won then? Who got the treasure of the new world?”

I hesitate for a moment, will it cause some sort of fucking paradox if I tell him?

…Probably not.

“The British.”

“A damn shame! I assume that’s why you sound so English then?”

“I’m not English. The British colonies rose up and declared independence, they kicked those red coats all the way back to the isles.”

“Ah ha!” Danton chuckles for a moment. “You know, my daughter was always saying that was exactly what was going to happen: No matter who controlled the new world, some country would form and take it all over for itself!”

He laughed heartily.

“M’m,” He cleared his throat, “I can only vaguely see her face now, I don’t even remember her ma’s anymore. How about you? Had anyone special?”

Danton really doesn’t get bogged down by much.

“Yep.”

“Oh?”

Danton raised an eyebrow like a devious kid.

“There’s really nothing else to it.”

“Oh my! What profession can endow such confidence!”

Danton exclaimed.

“I fixed cars- Uh, machines and engines, yeah, I fixed those. Kind of a useless skill here huh?”

“Nonsense! You’re good with your hands! Isn’t that all anybody asks for?” He nudged me by the shoulder, winking.

Danton, man, you’re killing me here.

“All this about us, what about her?”

I flick my head to Kana, who’s a good way away from us.

“Kana there isn’t a Hero, she’s just some kid who’s worked her way up to being as powerful as one. Don’t underestimate her though, she might be weak since she doesn’t have our Hero benefits, but she’s damn good with that blade of hers.”

Hmm…So she isn’t a Hero. Explains why she doesn’t hear us, and why there was only one other summoner here.

Danton himself uses a battle axe, it looks like a toy for how large he is, so I can imagine he can swing it deceivingly fast when taking into account the bonuses from being a Hero as well. Danton’s also ripped, not in the body builder way, but the bear kind of way. He also looks like a bear thanks to his lighter, furred armor.

“Well what about your summoner, what was his name? Mikhail?”

“Oh yeah, that ones a good man, he’s always got my back. Yours too you’ll see; very reliable, I’ve saved his life by the skin of my teeth many times, and I don’t plan on slacking!”

Ah, if only I had such a summoner, and not that brat Arciel.

“Past battles ey? I thought Andestine hasn’t really fought a war in a while.”

“Oh yes. The last real war was a few centuries ago. It was when the Caliphate finally reached Sidonia in their expansion, and they went to war with them just as they would with any other small nation. It lasted a hell of a long time, so much so that Andestine got involved, apparently, a few armies were sent over to assist the Caliphate, as Andestine wasn’t fond of sub-humans back then either. But…those armies never returned. I don’t know how they did it, but the Sidonians held on, and eventually, the standing Caliph had had enough, and sued for peace.”

Huh, but, I thought Andestine’s armies were a hell of a lot better than other human nations’; wouldn’t they have been able to cause a larger impact than just, ‘They died.’?

“Ever since then, the only battles Andestine has been in is a few skirmishes, battles like Golonus really helped out the Andestinian veterancy and expertise you see.”

“Golonus?”

I ask.

“Oh yeah, big battle, happened a couple decades ago. General Silverstream was left for dead by the Caliphate’s nobles, they didn’t think they could win and just backed down when Sidonia nabbed up a piece of land. But, Silverstream won, he outplayed them, he’s a household name now because of it.”

“General Silverstream, I remember hearing his name somewhere…”

“That’s because he was made a council member for his exploit, still is’.”

Ah, I was looking over a board that had the odd dozen council member’s names on it in Re’relihn, that’s why it sounded so familiar. As far as I’ve seen, Andestine has aristocrats, but very few of them. Nobility here is pretty rare, it’s probably why Arciel is so annoying about it. It doesn’t seem like they actually do much other than just being rich figureheads though, Andestine is a meritocracy, plain and obvious from how they have a constantly shifting roulette of council members and assemblies. That, and their military and governmental positions are open to all who are capable enough; the only way to rise through the ranks is to be good enough to show for it.

“What about Irine? Haven’t they been fighting the Sidonians for a while now?”

“Bout’ six months now if I remember correctly. It all started way back when the Principality was engaged by Sidonians on some patrol or whatever. It would’ve been a normal skirmish, but both powers kept on pouring more and more manpower into it, and eventually it became an all-out battle and Irine declared war on Sidonia. They’ve been fighting there with no end in sight for a-”

Before I can chit chat with Danton anymore, a horn sounds a way’s off; it’s time. Danton promptly shuts up and draws his two-handed axe, I do the same with my sword. The entire punitive force turns in a synchronized motion, the columns of men turning into a battle formation in an instant.

“Advance!”

I hear a Platinum Rank shout, and the army starts to robotically move forward past a tree line, where it comes before a large hill. This isn’t really what I’d call a mountain…It doesn’t seem natural at all, it’s the only bump in the terrain for miles around. Atop the rocky hill are a few sparse tree’s and old pathways, but directly in front of the army, is a gaping hole, wide enough for two buses to fit sideways through it.

“Heroes! Take point!” The same Platinum knight, the one in charge of this part of the force, exclaims to me and Danton.

As discussed previously back at the camp, we Heroes are being slapped right in front of the cave. I give a brief look at a few of the surrounding Silver Knights, who’re eyeing me and Danton, and I briskly walk forward through the formation. Me and Danton quickly take up position right at the front of the cave. Coming from the rear of the force, Epsilon and Jeremiah approach, taking position with us a way’s away.

Man, I’m ready to kick some ass after what happened with that regional militia. I died. I think it’s only fair I repay the Sidonians in kind. I just think it’s a bit dubious that the Knights stuck me and the other Heroes up by the front.

“Do you feel it Shepard? That sensation before battle?”

Danton asked, smiling but still intently staring down the tunnel.

“Yeah, I’m itching for some payback.”

“Ah ha! I heard about that! That little Salchyon girl is a tricky one isn’t she? Well, combined, we’d be able to take her down, and with Jeremiah here? It’d be a cinch!”

I’m really liking this Danton guy.

Behind us. the punitive force gets to work. They form a semi-circle around the mouth of the cave. They then proceed to slap together the fortifications they’d brought with them. Within a matter of minutes, behind me an assortment of wooden spikes and barricades are thrown together. It really reminds me exactly of how ancient Roman armies carried their building equipment with them, it made it so they could slam together an encampment for a night with relative ease; after the night passed, they’d just dismantle the fort and carry on with the same resources. Though it’s evident the knight’s behind me weren’t carrying full length logs for a large camp, rather just premade rudimentary fortifications.

“I still feel like a canary right about now.”

“Quite so!” Danton exclaims cheerfully. “We’re immortal! Of course it’s our job to be canaries! But just because we can’t die doesn’t mean we can throw our lives away, if you die, you’re leaving your summoner in a very vulnerable position!”

Right, either poor Arciel would lose all her mana rebuilding me and be left with zero power; or she’d be stripped of her vanguard for the fight. As much as I hate it, I need to protect Arciel, if she dies, then I’ll most likely follow suit.

“I don’t fancy dying much.”

“Me neither! Let’s keep it that way!”

Yeah, pain is reduced and all thanks to me being a Hero, but when I died; it was still the most unbearable pain I’d ever felt in my life. That bitch, that little psycho! She was just smiling at me as she stabbed me!

My blade shakes as my grip tightens, my gauntlets audibly squeezing.

“Attention forward!”

That’s it then, the knights are ready, the assault begins now.

“You all know your positions! First Cohort, form ranks!”

The First Cohort, a third of the three hundred knights, will be joining us in a prodding attack. The hope is to lure the Sidonians out, catch them in the open. All the Heroes form up in a delta at the center of the mouth, a wave of Silver Ranks forming up in a staggered checkerboard behind us. The summoners are holding back, obviously it’d be dumb to send them into such a dangerous tight space, instead they’ll be ready to obliterate the Sidonians should they leave.

“Advance!”

We begin our cautious creep into the black of the tunnel. Just as it seems the tunnel’s void is about to envelop the front echelon of us Heroes, a dozen magic lights come soaring above us, spreading out and illuminating a large area. I can see everything for a hundred meters, the walls of the cave don’t seem special, and the ground here is oddly flat and smooth.

The entire formation continues to advance in silence for a few minutes, the only noise being the gentle hum of the following mage lights. The light at the entrance of the tunnel slowly fades away, until I can’t see it anymore.

Our silence is interrupted however, when tapping, scrambling and sliding sound all around us. It sounds like somebody crawling through a vent, but all around us, and multiplied a few times over.

“Contacts?”

One of the Gold Ranks next to me mutter.

“Negative. Keep moving.”

The one Platinum Rank in the formation says, and the soldiers continue, not stopping.

I shudder, my vision shooting out to every inch of the tunnel; scouring for the source of all the noise. But, I can’t see it, and just as I’m about to ask Danton if he see’s anything, the noise stops, all at once.

A dozen meters in front of me, a blur falls from the ceiling. It hits the ground with a thud, laying unmoving. It’s a person, a limp and what looks to be dead person. The hell? I glance up toward the ceiling, but I don’t see any sort of hole or trapdoor…was this guy just clinging to the top of the tunnel?

The formation comes to a brisk stop. Before the Platinum Ranked commander can issue any orders, the body shakes, and like a marionette is snaps to it’s feet. Clad only in a hooded dull cloak, I can’t identify any features. After a moment of silence, I hear more of that thudding and crawling sound, and soon, it divulges into a cutting noise. Before I know it, at the sides of the cave, numerous chunks of the wall shatter like glass.

From these newly made holes, cloaked figures, exactly similar to the one in front of us, jump down to the tunnel’s floor. But, they don’t stop coming, it’s like a flood of them. Within seconds, the tunnel erupts into fighting, blades clash as the tunnel is inundated by identical hooded figures.

“Contacts! Lots of Contacts!”

The same Gold Rank yelps.

“You just had to run your mouth! Hold steady! Reinforcements are on their way!”

As planned, the Platinum Rank shouts that ‘Reinforcements are on their way’, but in reality, the whole formation has been ordered to give ground and retreat. Right now, the Hero’s jobs are to protect the Platinum Rank so he can signal the main force about our engagement.

The wraith-like cloaked figures envelop the First Cohort. What the hell! I thought they we’re supposed to be outnumbered! Out of the holes in the wall, still more people are flooding into the tunnel. Before I can even lock on to a target, I hear a whistle, and instinctively, I raise my sword in it’s direction.

A blade stops inches in front of my face. It disengages, and the wraith who’d swung it retreats, melting back into the ocean of other cloaked aggressors. Then, another thrust, and then another; over and over one or two at a time they strike, emerging from their river before promptly retreating. I just barely manage to block for my life, the best I can do is keep these guys off my back, I can’t even think about counterattacking.

“This is Freudlin! Enemies are above predicted numbers! We will reach your position within five minutes!”

I hear the Platinum Rank shout as he cusps the side of his helmet with a hand.

The force continues on for a quick minute, not a single soldier can attack against the wave of wraiths; neither side draws any blood.

But, it’s working.

The First Cohort is giving ground as instructed. Soon, I see the light of the tunnel’s entrance behind me. The wraiths noticeably increase in aggression, they start attacking three or four at a time now, the short breathing room I had between strikes evaporates.

I never knew my hands could move so fast, I’m holding on sure, but I feel like any ounce more of pressure will shatter my defense. The knights next to me seem to have the same problem. The once neat checkerboard of soldiers is now just a large shield wall, each soldier switching in and out with people behind them.

Man, Epsilon has a shield, lucky her. I’d like one right about now.

More minutes pass, soon, we’re only a couple dozen meters away from the entrance.

…Tch! I’m starting to really get pissed off with these things!

I take a step forward, out of formation. And, shrugging off a trio of thrusts that impact on my armor, I widely swing in front of me. Before me, my sword cuts through three of the wraiths. But, their body’s don’t offer any resistance, rather they explode in a cloud of purple mist, like balloons.

What in the world?

“That’s it! They’re illusions!”

A knight behind me shouts.

“No matter! Follow your orders! Get back in line Shepard!”

I hear Jeremiah shout. You know, he’s stronger than me, he really should be able to handle these guys; despite that, he’s following orders, so much for that whole hotshot persona.

“Fine then…”

I mumble under my breath, cutting down another two illusions as I retreat back into the knights.

Finally, we reach the light of day, the supposed illusionary wraiths don’t exit, rather they stand at the edge of the tunnel between light and darkness in a perfect line. The First Cohort retreats all the way to the palisade unimpeded.

“Ready! Aim! Fire!”

Another Platinum Rank behind the barricade shouts, and the four floating summoners above the fortifications unleash a small barrage of magic. The shockwaves and noise from the spells rattle through my bones, and my vision quakes as the mouth of the cave is enveloped in explosions. As the dust settles, no figures remain, not even any remnants.

“Was that it?”

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Arciel asked, tilting her head at the tunnel.

“They were illusions milady. It seems that was their trump card.”

The Platinum Rank in charge of the First Cohort, Freudlin, says to my floating summoner. Yeah, there was a couple hundred of them, we’d be screwed if they weren’t illusions.

“Well, I suppose we can assault without worry now?”

Arciel smirks, tightening the grip on her staff.

“No, that’d be far too dangerous, milady.”

Arciel sighed in disappointment at Freudlin’s response.

“Alright everyone, if there’s any time the Sidonians will attempt a breakout, it’d be now, so be on your guard! Second Cohort, take front echelons, the Third will take the center, the First will man the defenses!”

The Platinum Rank behind the palisade, the person given overall tactical command, orders the whole force. The out-of-breath First Cohort fall back, and are replaced by the fresh knights of the Second and Third Cohorts. The knights now in between the mouth of the cave and the barricade divide themselves into three distinct rectangles. Each of the rectangles of knights are pointed toward the tunnel, and form a perimeter around it by the base of the palisade. Us Heroes took up position on the flanks, me and Jeremiah on the right, Danton and Epsilon at the left.

The knights stood, the air tense as everyone simply waited for an attack. Man, if it were me, I’d just charge right in; but I can’t exactly do that with all this organization and professionalism on display by Andestine. The smoke and dust kicked up by the barrage of spells was slowly blown away. Just as the mouth of the tunnel were to completely clear of smoke, I heard the distinctive jingle of what I now know to be armor. Through the wisps of smoke and dust, ran white-cloaked figures. At first, I thought they were illusions like before, but that’s definitely not the case. I can make out facial features under their hoods, each one of them isn’t moving in the same way either. I can see the armor under their cloaks from the flutter of their movement and of the wind; these guys are the real deal.

…There’s only sixteen of them, and they’re charging a formation of two hundred in open combat; Just what in the hell are they thinking? Granted, all sixteen of these guys are rushing to the leftmost rectangle, opposite from where I am. It looks like they wanna punch a hole in the knights at a concentrated position.

“…Tch. Knights! With me! We will collapse on them!”

Jeremiah ordered, waving his hand and flaring his spear. With that, the bowl shape of knights started to contract toward the few Sidonians, like a Venus flytrap. Not ten seconds passed before the sixteen Sidonians made contact with the left; their charge halted the entire formation of knights on the left in their tracks. As I ran across the field at the head of the right formation side-by-side to Jeremiah, I could see how the Sidonians fought. The Sidonians simply jumped over the initial Andestinian shield wall, and started fighting like rabid animals in the center of the knights. Evidently, the knights have trained for such a tactic, as the entire rectangle on the left shifts and hollows out, encircling the Sidonians instead of fighting on their terms.

Those bastard Sidonians! Our mages can’t fire because they’ve placed themselves right in the middle of our army! They’re keeping themselves safe by using the entire left flank as a hostage!

As my formation reached the midpoint of the battlefield, I heard a single voice, and a flash blurred before my eyes.

“Well if it isn’t Jeremiah!”

An ear piercing clash of blades rung out right next to me. When I turned my head, I saw a man locked with Jeremiah. Not wasting a moment, I swing my sword with one hand at the back of this newcomer; I just barely manage to stop my blade from hitting Jeremiah as the Sidonian nimbly evades away. Now standing before me in plain sight, I could make out his features easily.

He didn’t have a cloak like the other Sidonians, and his armor seemed to be a moderate mix of steel plate and scale. He has large plates of armor distending from his hip to his knees, like some kind of a battle skirt. The overall outline reminds me of that psycho girl, she had large plates of armor like that over her legs too; but she had such thick armor that it didn’t really look as though they were distended. Overall, his armor is black, silver, and has the accent of red, just like his red eyes.

His weapon is a thin broadsword, it seemed to only have one cutting side for whatever reason, the other side being perfectly straight.

“Leave Ardinand to me! Keep moving! Encircle those bastards!”

Jeremiah promptly orders.

“As if I’d let you do that…”

The Sidonian, Ardinand, mumbles under his breath. You know, I’m so glad I have this translation power. The Sidonians aren’t nearly as mysterious if I didn’t know what they were saying.

Contrary to Ardinand’s will, the knights continue on, and he blurred into action. From knight to knight, in the span of a second he flashed to the front runners of the formation, promptly swinging and cutting through their necks. I could hear the crunch of armors as Ardinand’s blade tore through them, before splattering blood upon the ground. One of the knights was even decapitated. Before Ardinand could kill anymore soldiers, Jeremiah slammed into him with his body, killing Ardinand’s momentum instantly.

Yeah, this guy? He’s like that psycho girl from before, he’s way out of my league. Sorry buddy, I’ll just let you have fun with Jeremiah for now.

Ardinand, now locked in a battle with Jeremiah, did nothing as the rest of the knights rushed past the two of them. I too follow on, toward the left. From what it looks like, Ardinand was hoping to prevent the encirclement of the other Sidonians. I don’t think he was expecting Jeremiah to be here; else he wouldn’t have thought he could stop the entire right flank of knights on his own.

As we near the fighting on the left flank, I notice something odd.

The only people left fighting are Danton and Epsilon, and a few of the nearby knights from the center-oriented Third Cohort. What the hell? What happened?!

“Shepard! Don’t underestimate these guys!”

Danton calls as I halt side by side to him. He’d just shoved back a Sidonian who’d been locking blades with him. All around me, fresh reinforcements pour in from the right flank; they form ranks admirably fast. The Sidonians, now beset on all sides by the corpses of the knights of the left flank, charge. They narrowly avoid a bombardment of magic with zig zags and erratic serpentine movements. They soon collapse upon the remaining knights on the field. This is it, this is where the battle is won or lost, I can feel it. There’s no way the First Cohort can handle these guys alone, even with the fortifications on their side; we have to beat them here.

Perhaps picking me out of the rest of the knights for my Hero armor, I distinctly see a Sidonian lock on to me. I step forward to meet him, not wanting to endanger the knights on either side of me because of my wide swings. The Sidonian in question has a sword in one hand, and a dagger in the other.

Alright you son of a bitch, shoot.

In his rush for me, rather his scramble because of how uneven his footing seems, he drops a knee, and his height lowers. He swipes at my shins with his sword. Knowing my armor is practically impenetrable, and that I’m resilient as all living hell thanks to being a Hero, I swing down with both hands, I contort forward to make it seem like I’m putting even more power into my swing.

However, I know exactly what he’s going to do.

The Sidonian breaks off his attack, sidestepping to my left with a quick swipe at my chest. I keep my cool, and re-center myself for a counterattack even as a sword impacts on my chest.

Aha, I knew he was going to dodge, so I didn’t take that swing seriously.

I feel a dent on my back, but it’s nothing to worry about. The Sidonian had attempted to follow up his attack with his dagger, bringing it down at my back over my shoulder. I easily force the Sidonian to once again disengage his attack by bringing my blade at him, this time he’s not even able to throw in a cheap shot. He scrambles away a few meters, slowing his backwards momentum l with three of his limbs, like an animal. Just as my mind thinks we’ve been reset back to square one however, he launches himself at me once more.

Instead of swinging like in his initial attack, he thrusts, shooting for me like a dart.

Alright, alright…I did this before with another Sidonian, and it worked pretty damn well, so I’ll try it again.

I reach out with my left arm, and grab on to the Sidonian’s sword arm. Ignoring the rest of his body, I lift his arm by the wrist, and swing down with my sword.

As my sword dissects the Sidonian’s arm, a sharp pain befalls me. I can’t scream out, my, my throat! My fucking throat! I release my grip on the Sidonian, clutching my neck with a hand whilst stumbling back into the line of knights.

My vision falls shaky, and I drop to a knee. I see Danton step in front of me, his weapon at the ready. I hear a rushed few footsteps from behind.

“Hold on, hold on…”

It’s Arciel’s voice, she speaks as though she’s dealing with a minor nuisance. A blue aura radiates from her hands, and I feel a cooling and icy sensation at my throat, as my pain seems to numb. After a few seconds, I start coughing immensely, and within a minute, I no longer feel any pain, my throat just feels really numb.

No longer focused solely on my throat, my mind starts to run at it’s usual pace. I glance forward past the knights legs, and I see it.

It wasn’t an illusion! I see his arm, on the floor, cut and bleeding. I cut that motherfucker’s arm off! -And he still stabbed me in my goddamn throat! Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with these guys!?

I’ll have whatever they’re smoking, cause’ it clearly works wonders.

“You alright Shepard? I don’t think I’ve seen you take a hit that bad before, much less in the throat…”

Arciel asked as the blue light from her hands faded, the healing apparently being concluded.

“I’ll be fine.”

I get to my feet, and raising my sword, I quickly join up with Danton once more. I’m oblivious to the ocean of blood that’d fallen from my throat; it painted my upper torso a crimson red.

…

‘The sentinels of the battlefield, the people who watched for the opportunity to strike, a group which could vaporize the opposition given perfect circumstance’; Is how Clarke had started off his thesis paper about the utilization of mages in combat. Right about now, the waiting and grinding of his teeth seemed to resonate wholeheartedly in his decade’s old paper. Beside him, floating above the knight’s thrown together barrier, the little Fifio and Mikhail held silent vigil for their chance alongside Clarke.

Arciel had suddenly just flown off on account of, ‘Something’s not right’. Clarke had furrowed his brow at Arciel’s act, but it seemed her worry was not unfound. As Shepard, her summon, was injured without premonition, Clarke could keenly see Arciel’s worry reciprocating as a sort of motherly care. He smiled to himself; he’d be sure to tease her on that later.

Currently, Clarke was biding his time watching a rare battle, the duel between Jeremiah, the strongest Hero, and Ardinand, the 2nd best in Sidonia. Such a matchup was rare, and Clarke swore to himself that he wouldn’t miss a single detail. To him, such fighting with swords and the like seemed novel, pedestrian, a waste of time; yet perhaps because of his scholarly attitude, he was still enthralled by it’s intricacy’s.

A way’s off, Jeremiah was clearly winning against Ardinand. Clarke himself had heard of the man many a time before, only now could he see that such a mythical like figure was not as grandiose as he’d once thought. The two of them dance in a battle, Ardinand’s style landing him close to Jeremiah and at a constant state of movement. Jeremiah however, eerily, had the opposite strategy. Whenever Ardinand was close, Jeremiah held his spear by the middle of it’s shaft, and easily parried and pushed away Ardinand’s attacks. As soon as Ardinand were to retreat for a brief moment however, Jeremiah would instantaneously become the most aggressive fighter on the field, abusing the range of his spear and advancing on Ardinand, forcing him to retreat even farther. Ardinand’s retreat would continue on until Jeremiah either made a mistake, or if Ardinand were cheeky enough to attempt a risky coupe(1); after Ardinand had broken out of Jeremiah’s unstoppable advance, he’d close the distance, and the cycle would repeat. To Clarke, it seemed obvious that the battle before him had quickly turned into a battle of endurance, whoever could maintain the cycle the furthest would win the engagement.

Clarke didn’t try to indulge in actually learning much of the art of such pedestrian combat, but years and years of watching had turned him into an uncertified expert without him realizing it.

Clarke did not however, get wrapped up in the duel; for he still kept an eye and an ear glued to the real battle taking place.

Clarke could only scoff at the ridiculousness of it all, sixteen, now ten due to attrition, Sidonians were facing off against the odd two hundred knights on the field. Though, it seemed the knight’s manpower had also taken a severe plummet. The once dense and neat rectangles and shield walls of his countrymen’s poise were now but a broken machine; many a cog of their formations now laying unmoving across the ground. These, Sidonians, they fought not with the elegance and refinement of a normal Sidonian, such as Ardinand before him, or of the highly regarded Platinum and Gold Ranks, but with the tenacity and movements of wild animals.

They reminded him most of literal Wildmen, humans found solely in Aleeze that forwent civilization. They were terrifyingly effective. They were more intelligent than Goblins, and much more physically capable than civil humans. They laid traps, worked together, prepared ambushes, and delegated tasks; something solely exclusive to humans. They lived in tribal societies, far and few between in Aleeze.

But Clarke digressed, these Sidonians played dirty, very dirty. They kicked in opponents’ shins and toes; they threw sand in the knights’ helmet slits and were unrelenting in their attack.

Their teamwork was impeccable, damned near telepathic.

-In fact, Clarke was willing to bet that they had the telepathy spell under their belts. The difference between the oh-so popular message spell and telepathy being that a message spell was a one way shot of words; only one party needed the spell. Telepathy was more a bond, a two-way connection that could last indefinitely, the downside being that all parties involved needed to have the spell, and that it had a small range. That’s not saying the message spell was any better, any more than a few hundred meters and the static became so bad that you couldn’t hear a damned thing.

The Sidonians were using telepathy for fast tactical communication at a frontline level, however Clarke could only wonder what they’d actually be conveying. These fighters seemed to care naught for any complicated maneuvers or strategy, their only drive being to attack, and to attack once more, and then again attack…

To be fair, the knights hadn’t a chance to recover from the extreme aggression, and most were overwhelmed. Only a select few Silver Ranks and the Gold and Platinum Ranks withstood these Sidonian’s barrage of attacks. However, even these skilled warriors of Andestine, if they couldn’t find a way to take the pressure off, to turn the tables, they soon found themselves exhausted, and sluggish, and ripe for the reaping. Clarke could only shake his staff and bite his thumb at these Sidonians in the meantime. As much as he wanted to help his countrymen, he couldn’t very well blow them to smithereens in the process. Summoners were restricted from firing into active combat unless specifically ordered to; the only time a summoner had the discretion to use danger-close(2) spells were when the only allied forces in the fight were Heroes, for obvious reasons.

“There’s one, in the back, do you see him?”

Fifio pointed her staff at an isolated Sidonian far away from the fighting, he was out of breath, and had taken a knee. For whatever reason, the fabric of the cloak near his arm had started to turn red, and there was an immense pool of blood beneath him. His countenance was blank, the Sidonian glared forward, his mouth agape and with heavy eyes.

“Aye. Firing.” Mikhail rose his hands, layers of multicolored shapes forming in his palm and at his wrists.

Mikhail and Fifio simultaneously launched off a rainbow of a few spells. Clarke simply stared as the isolated Sidonian, oblivious to the incoming spells, sat still. He had ample time to evade the spells at such a distance, the spells had to travel in the air a few long moments; but the Sidonian, for whatever reason, did not move. He was engulfed in the precise magic strike originating hundreds of meters away.

Nine left.

Clarke could only eye the little Fifio, for her age, she had a surprisingly massive arsenal, and mana supply to back it up. Obliterating an opponent with a cocktail of spells was like using a dozen different swords, swinging once with one before discarding it and using another. Such variety in spells was a sure positive, once one finely understood the intricacies and differences of the spells, they could pick the right one for the situation. Though the most common reason to launch off numerous types of spells was to use them together to dissipate weaknesses of other spells, and create an overlapping matrix of impregnability; ensuring that when a mage fired, results were guaranteed.

“A-a-uh! T-there’s another one, out of the cave!”

Focused on Jeremiah and Ardinand’s duel, Clarke almost didn’t hear the stammer of Fifio. He looked up, and followed Fifio’s pointing.

Indeed, a man was walking out of the tunnel, the shade of the overhang passing across his body as he stood in the light. Clarke thought at first that this was just another Sidonian; but, his hood was off.

His silver hair, void filled eyes and sharp jaw,

“L-Lackadaisical!”

Clarke yelped as he recognized the man. The Platinum Rank below them shielded his eyes from the sun for a moment, following the mage’s stares.

“S-so it is! Quickly! Light the bastard up!” Having confirmed the new addition to the field, the Platinum Rank quickly shouted to the mages.

Truly, the best that the mages could do, was to make a ruckus in Lackadaisical’s direction so that at the very least some of the Andestinian soldiers were aware of him on the field. All of Clarke, Fifio, and Mikhail fired within a few moments. The spells flew for several seconds, flying over the battlefield toward Lackadaisical. The spells did their jobs, Lackadaisical was flushed forward out of the cave. However, he did not stop his movement after simply evading the spell’s blasts, he continued forward, right toward the remaining knights.

From his path, he’d be crashing straight into the backs of numerous knights that were unbeknownst to his presence.

“Summoners, head out! Don’t let him lay a finger on my men!”

The Platinum Rank said in a rushed voice. He cusped his hand over the side of his helmet for a moment.

“Freudlin, Lackadaisical is here, I repeat, Lackadaisical is on the field!”

If Clarke and the other summoners were normal mages, than the commander would’ve been ordering them to die. But they were Andestinian Summoners, four of them even, they theoretically shouldn’t have had a problem against even Lackadaisical.

The pit welling in Clarke’s stomach, it was fear; for the name Lackadaisical brought with it nothing. The only rumors of the most powerful warrior in Sidonia, were only that of his existence. He was no poster child; his feats were clouded in shadows. Only one thing was popularly circulated about him.

‘When silver is upon your crop, your actions are fruitless.’

That was the rumor, the sole superstition and fear, that this man’s appearance was a crow atop one’s head, That defeat was set in stone. It was bad news; some even went so far as to say even laying your eyes on him could embark bad luck.

…However, Clarke was no fool.

These claims were certainly made up by a group of people with far too much time and far too little to do, Clarke thought. The premonition of defeat wasn’t some omen, Lackadaisical was good at what he did, that was all. Despite his self-reassurance, whenever the thought of fighting Lackadaisical cycled back into his head, Clarke felt lightheaded.

He promptly shook his head, as if to whisk away his rarest feeling. Clarke had heard of entire battalions of men that were singlehandedly slaughtered by the Demon of the Battlefield, the Salchyon girl; Yet no such tales existed of Lackadaisical. That mystery and uncertainty, though it was a meager aspect, it always endowed fear if it went unchecked. That was the fear that Clarke held of this man, he didn’t know anything about Lackadaisical. It goes to show that the Sidonians were not keen on publicizing their best.

Fifio, Mikhail and Clarke stared at each other for a moment, before silently flying off, to meet this, this Lackadaisical.

Although, with all this heavy bombardment, my mana is running terribly low…

…

So far, so good. I’m pretty sure we’ve got these douches on the back foot, they’ve lost what seems to be half their manpower. I got my throat gouged out and my thigh stabbed to show for it; well…I guess I’m one of the lucky ones.

Filling my vision, are the corpses of the Silver Ranks, the few people still at their feet can barely move from exhaustion and wounds. Death from a Thousand Papercuts is really applying to the remaining knights. They were skilled enough to not be killed off in one swing, but as the battle dragged on, knights left and right were dropping like flies as they succumbed to their wounds.

Breathing heavily, I take a step back, my hands just barely able to hold up my sword with the little strength I have left. In front of me, the pussy-ass Sidonians are also out of breath, and blade clashing has slowly decreased in frequency. It’s infuriating. The most damage I can manage is a cut, God only knows how I managed to sever a limb; these bastards are fucking unkillable!

By my side are the pitifully few remaining knights, the Heroes-Save Jeremiah-, and that Kana girl. I haven’t had the luxury to watch other people fight, but that katana of her’s really is huge for her size. I’m sure that’s an entirely different weapon, and not just ‘Big Sword’, but my mind can’t exactly think right now. Floating above, Arciel had been a godsend for us. Like a guardian angel, she fired off small spells here and there, saving a hell of a lot of people’s asses. She also healed me and the other Heroes a few times; I guess she’s useful for something.

“Feeling tired yet, Shepard?”

Danton asks, not gasping for breath like the rest of us, but still very much is his chest bobbing up and down.

“Ha, I’m not even warmed up yet.”

I spit. Danton opens his mouth, but before he can speak, a rumble shakes at my feet. A second later a screeching explosion assaults my ears, I flick my head slightly to it’s origin, not wanting to take my eyes off the opposition. The explosion is of magical cause thanks to the bright colors and pretty sparks, and it’s by the mouth of the cave.

“What in the world…?” Freudlin mumbles under his breath. I wasn’t expecting it, but Freudlin, the son of a bitch, is still alive. I need to thank him, I would’ve got my hand cut off if it weren’t for him. “There…” He exhales, “There shouldn’t be any fighting over there…”

He’s right, what in the hell were Clarke and the others aiming at? Freudlin brought a hand to his helmet for a moment.

Freudlin suddenly yelped, his body jumping.

“W-we have a situation!”

He stammered.

“Speak.”

Epsilon said, her shield and spear still poised at the Sidonians. Before Freudlin could speak, out of the dust and smoke, I noticed it. A single man blitzed for us.

“La-Lackadaisical! It’s him, he’s here!”

‘Lackadaisical’? Fuck kind of name is that?

Regardless, this is bad. I don’t have clue whoever he is, but if Freudlin is calling him by name, than he must be some sort of hotshot…

My train of thought trails of as an idea forms in my head.

This is perfect. I beat this Lackadaisical guy, I’ll get hella’ street cred.

I chuckle to myself despite my fatigue. Like hell I could beat a named warrior.

Well, this guy is coming straight for us. He’s fast, way too fast. It doesn’t look so much like he’s running as much as he is tearing across the ground. If he crashes into the knights, the last of our cohesion will break, and the battle will be lost. Someone needs to go, and halt him.

Again, the thought of fighting him flashes across my mind. This time though, I have the chance of really being a ‘Hero’. Before I know it, my body seems to be filled with a second wind, strength inundating my body from God knows where.

…Shit. Look’s like I’m forcing myself to…Ah hell, here I go again.

I take a step backwards, and turn toward the ever encroaching Lackadaisical.

“I’ll hold him off.” I say. I don’t get a single word in response, I can only hope that somebody is nodding, at the very least.

I feel a hard hand on my shoulder, I turn my head, and it’s Danton, reaching over to me, still facing the Sidonians.

“Shepard, you’re a gutsy one! Give him hell!”

He lifts his hand, his countenance turning serious at the Sidonians.

“Go, we can’t risk diverting any other manpower.” Danton says.

I move forward to meet Lackadaisical at a brisk pace.

“Don’t die idiot!” Arciel adds, shouting as our distance increases.

As I start to put together a game plan, I see a barrage of more spells soar toward Lackadaisical. They impact in his wake, barely doing a thing.

“Shepard! Don’t be hasty! That one there is nobody to take lightly.” I hear Clarke’s voice, and I look to see the three other summoners flying overhead me. Man, all this flying, I wish I could fight and fly; but flight isn’t fast or agile enough to warrant even using as a swordsman, what a bummer.

“Watch yourself!”

Clarke says, all three summoners preparing another barrage. I turn my gaze down, I really don’t know what Clarke’s-

My breath is blown out of me as something crashes into me. I’m sent off my feet and go rolling across the ground.

What the fuck! He was like a hundred meters away! How’d he close the distance!? I scramble to my feet, as soon as I do, the blur, Lackadaisical, fills my vision; spells exploding where he’d been a second before. He revs his hand back. From the tips of his wrists, extend a long needle each. They’re not thicker than a pinky but they are as long as my entire leg.

Shit! I don’t have the time to react!

I gasp, just barely managing not to cringe in anticipation of pain.

As Lackadaisical initiates his thrust however…another blur enters my vision, this time though, it crashes into Lackadaisical. It’s Jeremiah. He swings his spear widely and in a flash. Lackadaisical stumbles out of the way. Jeremiah steps back, to my side. Wait, if Jeremiah is here, then who’s fighting Ardinand? My vision scours across the battlefield, and I see Ardinand, on his knees a way’s away. He shakily get’s to his feet, but remains still.

“Leave the creeps to me Shepard, only numbskulls bite off more than they can chew.”

Jeremiah gave his spear a flare.

“I guess I’ll just have to spit some food out then.”

I tighten my grip.

“How uncouth!”

Jeremiah says, rushing forward toward Lackadaisical. Well shit, here I was thinking I’d get to be the star of the show. Before me, Jeremiah and Lackadaisical exchange numerous thrusts; there’s a hell of a lot of sparks from all the blade clashing.

As soon as I’m about to head off to finish Ardinand, I see a few more people, a half a dozen, emerge from the darkness of the cave. They clearly aren’t soldiers. They look around meekly for a moment, Ardinand gives them a wave and they promptly start to shuffle to him, toward the right of the field. The hell? Those guys look like engineers, they don’t have any armor, but they carry with them a plethora of cases and bags. Jeremiah promptly retreats, clicking his tongue as his gaze sets on the newcomers.

“We can’t let any of them escape. It seems their plan was to draw away our forces to escort away their non-combatants.”

Jeremiah says in a raised voice so the summoners can hear him. That’s why we set up a barricade manned by the First Cohort in the first place, to prevent escape. These chumps don’t look like they could be able to hold a sword, much less breakthrough a blockade.

I wasn’t expecting the Sidonians to be so stupid! They have no cover; the summoners should be able to obliterate them. But, Jeremiah takes a step to the side, obviously wanting to pass Lackadaisical and head for the escaping Sidonians. Lackadaisical promptly steps to the side to block Jeremiah. Yeah, it doesn’t look like he’s keen on letting Jeremiah by.

But, just as I’m about to ask Clarke what’s taking the mages so long to wipe the idiots off the face of the planet, I hear a loud war cry sounding at the left of the battlefield. The First Cohort…They’re charging. Evidently, only half of the First Cohort is joining the battle, the other half seems to be mounting by the right, to block the newcomers.

But, Ardinand is there, he blitzes the knights. Within moments, I can tell they don’t have a chance; He cuts down knight after knight.

“…What’s taking so long!?” Jeremiah suddenly bursts out, highly irate, his gaze flitting up to the summoners.

“We have too little mana to bombard them!” Mikhail shouts.

Jesus man! Communicate your fucking status! Anger flares in me just as Jeremiah, why didn’t they say something!

“Worthless! Squirt! With me!”

He beckons at Fifio.

…What? If the mages have no mana than she shouldn’t be of any help either. Fifio shakily glances at the other two summoners. She shakes her head, and those angel wings she had before sprout from her body, and she shot toward Ardinand, on the other side of the field.

So much for being out of mana…seriously, what the fuck is going on with our mages?

As Fifio crossed over head like a jet, Jeremiah blurred forward toward Lackadaisical, a visible shockwave of air pounding into my body because of how much power Jeremiah launched off his feet with. Jeremiah closes on Lackadaisical. After a quick clash of steel, Jeremiah sidestepped Lackadaisical, rushing for the knights on the right.

Lackadaisical turned toward the running Jeremiah, clearly about to pursue.

Sorry bud, I’m locking you down here.

I rush forward off my feet, and swing at Lackadaisical. My sword impacts, and I feel a tear of steel as my blade crunches through his armor. Ha! Wasn’t expecting that now were you!?

He turns, his face still blank but his eyes cringing. I swing once again, closing the distance even more. Shocked, Lackadaisical attempts to swing at me, but his needles do little more than bounce off my armor.

Ha! My plan worked didn’t it! As soon as I saw those needle things of his, I knew that he sure as hell can’t swing them with any effect, and to thrust, he needs to be a long distance away! I swing again, and again, fighting those ultra-aggressive weirdos has taught me something, being aggressive doesn’t mean you’re exposed, I’ve never taken into account what the enemy would be dealing with when I attacked. The best Lackadaisical can do is deflect my attacks, but he’s giving ground.

He suddenly takes a jump back. Before I’m able to put anymore attacks on him, I hear a release of pressure, like a grenade launcher firing, it’s more a thud than an explosion. From his wrists, shoot out two more needles, they soar for all of about a foot before being caught in Lackadaisical’s hands simultaneously. Great, he has these thin and long pointy things on his wrists, and now he’s holding one in each hand too. The needles of his form right angles with the way he holds them.

Then, he rushes me, stabbing forward with his wrist mounted spikes. I swing to counterattack him, but my sword is caught by one of his hand-held needles. Fuck! His weapons form a defensive net, I can’t cleanly attack his upper body!

His thrust lands upon my chest, and to my horror, pierces. I feel two stings of pain enter my body. Right, his weapons are small as hell, if he doesn’t hit me in a vital area; I can shrug off the pain. He pulls away from me, his needle’s exiting my body. He turns his wrists, and jumps up.

He’s going to stab down with his handheld-ones now! I lift my sword, and swing, attempting to parry Lackadaisical. It works, and his spikes narrowly miss as he loses altitude and touches the ground. Now point blank to me, and far too close for my sword, he kicks me squarely in the chest. I’m sent sliding a little ways on my feet. As I get my bearing, I notice Lackadaisical revving back an arm again, this time, both his wrist and hand needles are angled for me. Before he’s able to thrust though, I hear rushed footsteps, charging past me, is Kana. She slices at Lackadaisical with her massive sword, an ear-piercing clang of metal on metal ring out.

“Need backup?”

Kana said, jumping back to my side.

“Thanks.” I nod to her. She looked up, biting her lip.

“So, are those mages going to do anything?” She said in a loud voice, clearly mocking them.

“We’re dry. The most we can do is a few spells.”

Mikhail says. He sounds like a marine that’s out of ammo, and just shouting ‘I need ammo!’ over and over again like a computer program. Kana scoffed, but tightened the grip on her katana.

I raise my sword and charge forward, I can’t let Lackadaisical support Ardinand against Jeremiah, I need to buy him some time. I swing down with the full force of my body, and, as I expected, Lackadaisical easily sidestepped me. He revved an arm back, but behind him blurred Kana, with a swing of her sword Lackadaisical was forced to block and break his attack. I was about to swing again, but Kana didn’t stop. She kept on swinging, she jumped over Lackadaisical, attacking from his back, before bobbing under his blade and slicing at his abdomen. Jesus, what’s up with high ranking fighters being so unrelenting? I guess I should be like that too.

Kana’s sword slams into Lackadaisical, sending him back a way’s. But, she kept on attacking and attacking; she maneuvered over and under Lackadaisical’s needles, dodging and deflecting everything.. I’d be getting in her way if I tried to help…

Kana took a jump back, retreating for a moment and halting her never-ending aggression.

But, as soon as I think it’s my time to engage, a few colored bolts, with streams akin to airplane contrails in their wakes, crash all around Lackadaisical; He stumbles back, losing his poise.

“Give up! You’re surrounded!”

Clarke and Mikhail land upon the ground, charged with magic. The four of us form a square around Lackadaisical. Just as I’m about to question what Mikhail meant by ‘surrounded’. I hear the stomping footfalls of soldiers. Five Gold Ranks and two Platinum’s rush past me, filing around Lackadaisical in a perimeter.

Lackadaisical glances around, his face seeming blanker than ever.

No, seriously, what the fuck is wrong with our mages! One second they don’t do shit, and the other, they do this kind of crap. Just how flakey are they?

Lackadaisical promptly charges at a nearby Gold Rank, he probably picked him out for being the weakest to break through.

Ha, yeah, no. You’re going nowhere. I lunge for Lackadaisical, and grab on to his shoulder, pulling toward me. I throw him past me and into the ground. I place a boot directly on his back whilst restraining his arms. He struggles…

…Man. This guy is fucking weak as shit.

“Good work everyone.” Freudlin, eyeing the struggling Lackadaisical, speaks. “The other Sidonians have been routed, so we came as fast as we could. Now, everyone, we all need to head to the right to make sure the rest of them don’t escape.”

Freudlin flicked his head.

“That won’t be necessary!”

I turn my head to the right, where Jeremiah and Fifio had ran off to intercept Ardinand and the non-combatants. Dropping in from a long jump, in pursuit by Jeremiah, Ardinand lands, slashing at a Gold Rank. His blade isn’t able to pierce, but Ardinand shoves him away and continues toward me. Ardinand revs back a swing. Ha, yeah. Fuck that.

I promptly retreat, letting go of Lackadaisical and raising my sword at the two. As Lackadaisical scrambled to his feet, Ardinand stood back-to-back with him. As the combat finally slowed, I see something odd. Atop Ardinand’s head are brown cat ears, protruding from his brown hair. At his hip, two tails swish around each other.

“Sivister! What the hell are you waiting for! Use your Epensen!”

Lackadaisical’s expression was still blank, he just looks like a really creepy doll with wide eyes. After a moment of silence, Lackadaisical spoke in a dull drone.

“I…I can’t.” Ardinand glared back at Lackadaisical for a moment. He opened his mouth, but before he could reply, Jeremiah, who’d been scrambling across the field, closed in. He joined the encircling knights.

“Well? You worthless mages somehow have mana now, fire then!”

After Mikhail and Clarke gave Jeremiah a quick glance, their spells intensified in luminosity.

“W-wait!”

Kana dashed out of the encirclement, raising her katana sideways and placing her back against the Sidonians.

“We don’t have to kill them! Take them prisoner!” She looked around for a moment, before adding, “I-Idiots! We can use them!”

Clarke and Mikhail looked at each other for a moment, before dissipating their spells. As soon as they did, Ardinand and Lackadaisical jump into action. Well, nice fucking job Kana! I rush forward, Clarke and Mikhail already firing off spells. The two of them had jumped vertically, attempting to leap over the perimeter. Clarke and Mikhail’s panic spells cleanly miss Ardinand, but they slam right into Lackadaisical’s legs. Like a frog eating a fly, Lackadaisical drops like a rock back into the formation; Ardinand on the other hand, landed cleanly on the other side of the knights. Lackadaisical scrambled to his feet,-

Oh no you don’t! I take the opportunity, and tackle Lackadaisical to the ground. Once again, he’s weak as crap. I see Ardinand, not fleeing but looking at Lackadaisical.

“…Please,” Lackadaisical says, in a dull and muffled tone, “Do not endanger yourself any longer...Leave me.”

Ardinand stared at Lackadaisical. Before he was able to reply, Jeremiah crashed into him, throwing a trio of thrusts. Ardinand, bewildered, just barely managed to block them.

“…Shit!” Ardinand cringed, making up his mind. Yep, he’s going to leave his ally. Pussy.

After deflecting another few thrusts from Jeremiah, Ardinand sheathed his broadsword, and fled, he narrowly evaded another couple thrusts from Jeremiah in his dash. But, Jeremiah didn’t give chase; He stood still, staring as Ardinand ran. He’s probably pretty mad, he just ran across the entire battlefield, only to have Ardinand start running away again.

…What the fuck did I just witness? We had Lackadaisical corned, then comes Ardinand, apparently trying to break him out; then Kana saves their lives, letting Ardinand escape.

Wait, no one’s pursuing Ardinand, why the hell…? As I take a glance around me, I instantly realize why nobody’s giving chase. The Gold Ranks are on their knees from exhaustion, and everyone’s breath is heavy. It looks like the battle is over then, no one has any more strength to continue. The two Platinum Ranks, Freudlin included, near me and restrain Lackadaisical, I back off.

“Well? You didn’t let those non-combatants escape right?”

Asked Freudlin, holding Lackadaisical. Jeremiah shook his head and pointed to the right of the palisade with his spear. From the distant section of the wall, streamed smoke, and fire burned. The bodies of Silver Ranks littered the area. It didn’t look like any of the First Cohort’s still-defending knights are alive over there.

Jeremiah glared at Mikhail, he then walked slowly to him, bobbing side to side in anger. His eyes twitching, he reached out, grabbed Mikhail by his collar; Mikhail was about a head shorter, so he was lifted up off the ground.

“What in God’s name were you thinking!? We lost time because of your little game, and now look where we are! They escaped!” Jeremiah screamed at Mikhail.

Mikhail wryly smiled.

“We only had the mana for one more big strike. So I decided to tell Clarke and Fifio to act like we were out. And now look,” He averted his eyes toward the restrained Lackadaisical, “We tricked him. Their plan was to drain us of mana by letting Lackadaisical dodge all our shots-”

“Their plan!? I don’t give a rat dropping about your little trick! The Sidonians, have escaped! We failed! Don’t you see!? We should’ve just killed them when we had the chance!” Jeremiah continued his explosive outburst, giving a death glare at Kana.

“Hey there, calm yourselves! You’re acting like children!”

Danton suddenly shoved his way into the circle of people, Epsilon and Arciel close behind. He rose his hand, about to push away Jeremiah; but Jeremiah promptly let go of Mikhail, blowing a burst of air through his nose with a snarl.

“Fifio is chasing them down as best she can, but even the squirt will run out of mana at some point.” Jeremiah, looking away, said in a much more quiet voice.

“We need-”

“What you need Jeremiah, is to halt. You’ve all done enough.”

Touching down a way’s away, escorted by two Gold Ranks and the Platinum Ranked commander of the whole punitive force, is Trissdean. She strides for us.

I hear a struggle, and turning, I see Lackadaisical open a palm, a silver light forming-

Jeremiah reached for Lackadaisical, and squeezed on his wrist, I heard a crunch, and Lackadaisical’s eyes seemed to dull even more.

“Friede sei mit dir.”

After casting for a moment, Arciel’s staff flashed, and Lackadaisical promptly hung limp.

“Hmph.” After eyeing Lackadaisical for a moment, Trissdean continued. “Look what you have all done.” She extended her hand at the battlefield, plagued with blackened marks of bombardment, plagued with raging fires, and dotted with the corpses of the rest of the knights. Other than a couple dozen Silver Ranks at the far right of the palisade now tending to the wounded, we’re all that’s left. There’s not a single other soldier on their feet.

“You’ve traded hundreds of knights, my knights, to kill a few Sidonians, capture Lackadaisical, and flush the rest out.” Her eyes narrowed at all of us standing.

“That’s a damned good deal if I do so say myself!”

She suddenly smiled, booming with cheer.

***

1. Coupe. A maneuver that allows someone to cut over and lift the opposition's blade with the tip of their weapon to attack. Pronounced Ku-pay.

2. Danger Close. A term, mostly used in the modern military sense, wherein friendly forces will have fire support in potentially dangerous proximity, risking friendly fire. Standard modern ranges are within 600 meters.