“Gagh…! Damn…” Atalanta cursed between painful grunts, landing in the dirt on her stomach.
Surrounded by rubble and dust, at the center of a now extinct town. Atalanta pressed her hands on the ground in an attempt to stand back on her feet, only gathering enough strength to kneel down. The small bronze plate in her chest—as well as the shoulder pauldrons, were dented and cracked from the damage they endured.
“Are you satisfied now?” Loki addressed the wounded blonde knight—one corner on his lips slightly raised with annoyance.
Atalanta groaned as she picked herself up, pressing her fingers on the body of her steel crafted quarterstaff to take a fighting stance. “I’m not… out yet…”
“Give it up already. You could never beat me.” stated Loki. “We are just wasting our time here.”
Vanishing his twin swords in an instant, the knight turned his back on Atalanta and began to walk away. He strode across the ravaged town, passing through crumbled stone houses and burnt trees. Atalanta chased behind Loki with rapid steps, taking off the broken pauldrons in her shoulders.
“Wait a minute!” she placed her hand on the knight’s shoulder—who pulled back with a sharp turn to face her. “We dealt with the specters already… we should return to Ninigi.”
Pulling his head back slightly while raising an eyebrow, Loki scoffed at the blonde knight’s words before speaking. “And then what, we just wait again for nothing?”
“We wait for Specter,” claimed Atalanta. “Loki, we are the only ones at the moment that can stop him, if he shows up and we are not prepared...” the blonde knight squinted her eyes before finishing her sentence, addressing something that had been bothering her for some time. “You’ve been acting strange lately… ever since you returned with that doll last time you went out.”
“Hah,” Loki chuckled—a mocking grin plastered in his face. “That’s funny coming from you… just look at yourself, bronze?” he signaled at Atalanta’s armor with a gesture of his hand. “You actually believe that someone like him stopped Specter by himself? All because you read it in some book you found on the ground. And with a bronze sword nonetheless…” he whispered his last sentence.
An angry frown formed in the blonde knight’s expression, placing one hand in her chest plate. “Humans record their history just like we do, Loki. Neither of us saw him die, who’s to say he... who’s to say he wasn’t the only left standing to protect humanity.”
“Neither of us ever saw him for years after his exile, for what we know. he died way before the specters invaded Paradise.”
“I don’t care. If they believe he stopped them then…”
“Then how many people were there to see it?” Loki interrupted a second time with a snarky chuckle. “Even we were lied to, and by the order at that. Remember the champion from the legends?”
His words caused Atalanta to recoil slightly, clenching her jaw with a low grunt. “Ninigi is…”
“A fraud, and yet here we are, blindly following what his command. You know what… fine, let’s head back.” Loki said. “But we won’t be able to do this forever, you know.” Warned the knight, turning back to continue his stride—followed by Atalanta. “The longer we wait… the more powerful he becomes, and the less chance we’ll have to actually win.”
Pensive at the words of her companion, Atalanta’s gaze remained slightly lowered as her mind wandered to her life in the order—reminded of the undeniable disparity between the hero and pride of the order, and Ninigi—the champion himself.
Northern Region of the Deadlands: 936, August 12th, Sunday, 4:00 PM.
Earsplitting thunders roar throughout the battlefield—Atalanta’s golden lightning abilities combined with the azure light radiating from within Loki’s artery network, forced the crimson god to retreat further into the fog as both fighters continued to strike at him with their weapons—denying the demon of an opening to exploit.
Loki swung his blade with an upwards attack, evaded by Specter as he quickly jumped back out of its way—leaving himself open for Atalanta to strike. She placed her foot on Loki’s shoulder to leap upwards into the air, forcing herself back to earth with a downwards spin at tremendous velocity—forming a razor-sharp wheel with the steel blade of her glaive.
Unable to respond in time, the demon was forced to block her attack by utilizing the sturdy armor of his spectral arm—shattering slightly on impact as fragments of obsidian scales ripped off his arm.
“…!”
Making use of the opportunity to strike, Loki pressed both feet on the ground before propelling himself forward against his foe—pulling his left shoulder back in order to spin around into a horizontal attack, slashing at Specter’s human side with an inwards swing. Reacting quickly enough, the demon jumped back once again to avoid the knight’s assault. The speed and power behind Loki’s attack was still able to slice parts of his arm and torso however, spilling blood from the open wound.
“Atalanta!”
“Taste this!”
Relentlessly fencing off their powerful foe, The Golden Lightning continued with the combined assault by slightly bending her knees—waves of electricity sparking under her feet as she pressed them on the ground. She broke into a fearless sprint towards the god, spinning the glaive in her right hand while extending her left arm towards her opponent—using its length to calculate her shot as she positioned the weapon like a throwing spear, sparks of electricity that leaked from the pores of her skin crawling across the steel of her blade.
“Useless!” roared Specter, thrusting his human hand forward against Atalanta—the force of his motion sending a gust of crimson fog that crashed against her chest, hurling the blonde knight back.
“Umph!” she flew away as the right half of her mask shattered at the ignition of Specter’s attack—taking chunks of her chest plate as well. Despite receiving such powerful strike however, The Golden Lightning continued to aim her glaive while soaring away. “Loki!”
“See how you like this?” the order’s champion said under his breath—teleporting behind the god, and restraining his arms from the back—pressing both hands on the back of Specter’s head.
“Ngh!” the demon struggled, but found himself incapable of breaking free.
Finding her opening, Atalanta pulled her arm backwards before catapulting the glaive forward with electrifying power and speed—splitting the fog in its path as it sparked with lightning waves running across its body. Specter attempted to force his way out of the knight’s grip by pulling his arms down in a quick motion, failing to break free in time to avoid The Golden Lightning’s attack.
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“Grah!”
“Agh!”
Both Loki and Specter’s bodies were pierced by Atalanta’s glaive, swiftly perforating both the god and the champion as it passed through them—tearing a hole in their abdomen, and landing at an angle with its blade buried in the dirt. The two fighters plummeted on the ground immediately, with Loki landing on his back, and Specter dropping on his face in front of him—their bodies engulfed in golden sparks of lightning.
Forcing herself into a stop as she continued flying away, Atalanta propelled herself forward mid-air to land on her feet—breaking into a sprint towards her companion. “Loki!”
Just as she neared the pair however, the crimson eye of the god suddenly shot open with raging fury—raising himself from the ground with a powerful uppercut of his left arm. His quick ambush took The Golden Lightning by surprise, successfully connecting against her jaw from below—the sharp edges of his spectral knuckles bursting into crimson as the blonde knight’s mask fractured into tiny fragments of gold.
“Grraagh!” Atalanta flew in the air, landing on her back away from Specter. “Oof! Ngh… gah…” she groaned in pain while lying on the floor—her twitching body struggling to stand. “I can’t… move…”
One eye half closed, she stared at the still standing demon in front of her—watching the hole in his abdomen slowly seal itself as it absorbed the red fog of the Deadlands, transforming it into the cells needed to repair the flesh of his human side—as well as the sturdy armored exoskeleton of his other half.
“Don’t you understand… knight.” growled the god with a fully distorted voice. “You cannot… kill me.”
“Ngh…” groaned Atalanta, attempting to force herself to stand. “I… is this… the end?” her eyes quivered with anger and doubt as she focused on the demon’s face. “…!”
“…!” Petrified by an abrupt searing sensation in his heart, Specter’s crimson eye widened in shock as he lowered his head—spotting a vibrant azure blade piercing his chest. He grunted in pain, turning his head to look over his shoulder, and fix his gaze on Loki—confidently smirking behind him. “You…”
“The one you should worry about…” the knight growled, pressing his fingers tightly on the grip of his sword as he plunged it further into the demon’s chest. “It’s me!”
Appearing in front of the god, a second Loki pierced the human side of specter with his second azure blade—locking him in place as both halves were perforated by the champion’s azure swords. Gripping their swords tightly, both Loki and his clone emanated an azure aura as they buried their blades further into the demon’s body.
“Now die!” roared the knight, attempting to split the god in half by the chest. “…!”
A gasp escaped both the order’s champion and the Golden Lightning’s, the shattering sound of Loki’s blade as it crumbled into fragments taking both knights by surprise. In an attempt to save himself from Loki’s attack, Specter gathered large amounts of energy within the glowing veins in his spectral body—releasing it all at once in a single burst that shattered the blade of his opponent, and evaporated Loki’s copy.
“B-but that was his…” Atalanta observed in shock.
Seizing the opportunity, as Loki remained stunned by the ignition of crimson pushing him away. Specter pressed the fingers in his human hand to form a tight fist, propelling it forward into a thrusting punch that connected with the face of the knight—striking with a downwards angle that violently forced him against the dirt.
“Gah!” Loki’s back bounced off the dirt once, leaving his heavily injured body quivering slightly. “You... you can’t… be serious…”
“Ngh…” failing to stand on her feet, Atalanta attempted to crawl near the knight as she dragged herself on the ground. “Dammit…” she cursed, stopping to take a breather near her companion. “Loki… wasn’t that…?”
“There was no core…” he groaned, drawing a gasp from the blonde knight next to him.
“What?”
“His body… has no core, Atalanta.”
Stepping in closer as he watched both knights struggle in the ground, Specter took a quick breath as the fog almost culminated with the healing process—restoring the fissure in his abdomen. “Have you now realized… that you can’t stop me?”
“Grragh!” Loki forced himself standing, stumbling backwards with trembling legs. “Not yet… I am…” his breath quivered alongside his body, rage taking the place of fear as the knight’s mind refused to give in. “I will…”
“Loki… we have to get out…” Atalanta pressed her hands on the dirt, lifting herself up into a kneeling position. “If we stay longer… it’s all over.”
“It’s over for him,” retorted Loki—gritting his teeth with anger. “I didn’t wait this long… just to run away…”
Extending his spectral arm towards the knight, Specter stood firm in front of both opponents as particles of crimson light gathered around his hand. “Then die knowing that you accomplished nothing.”
“Loki… we have to go!” Atalanta warned as she mustered enough strength to stand—stepping next to her companion to face off Specter.
Suddenly however—with enough magnitude the shake the ground underneath, the clashing sound of steel colliding with the scorched earth provoked the god to retreat with a quick jump—landing away on his feet after his attack was abruptly put to a halt.
As the screen of dust cleared in front of both Loki and Atalanta, the flashing light of azure emanating from the towering giant brought to the field a third contender—who’s attack had bore a crater underneath, created by the head of his Warhammer.
“…”
Offering no reaction to the arrival of the third ‘knight’, Specter fixed his neck in anticipation of a drawn-out fight—huffing through his nose. Standing firm in between the knights and the demon was King—the sole ruler of the order of knights, holding the steel pole of his gigantic hammer in both hands. Next to him was Theo, who’s usual stoicism offered a critical expression—attempting to remain calm under the pressure of the hellish zone.
“King…” Atalanta instinctively took a step back with a snarl, releasing a soft grunt as she balanced her body to avoiding dropping on her knees.
“What the hell… is this?” growled Loki, his chest puffing up and down with heavy breaths.
Turning quickly to face them both, Theo scanned the injuries in both Loki and Atalanta to realize the severity of the situation—clenching his jaw at the sight of their wounds. “Was I wrong the entire time?” his mind anxiously wondered, a drop of sweat rolling down his cheek. “If Specter isn’t as weakened as we thought… if Loki does not have the strength, then…”
“Eyes on the enemy, Theo.” King confidently announced, a commanding stance and firm posture as he prepared to confront the god. “A gladean knight’s duty is to stand strong in the face of adversity.”
“My king,” Theo turned to bow at him—stepping next to him right after. “We must find a way to retreat quickly… the influence in the Deadlands would be too strong for you.”
“So, things are that bad?”
“They may be worse than I had hoped,” Theo bowed deeply with eyes closed. “This all my fault, your majesty.”
“We’ll deal with it however we can,” claimed King—pressing his fingers tightly on his weapon.
Loki plummeted suddenly, prompting Atalanta to lunge at him and hold his body with an arm—which only served to force her down as well into the dirt as well. “Ngh… hands off me!” protested the knight, slapping Atalanta’s arm away.
“Ugh, could you… be grateful for once!”
Ignoring the blonde knight’s words however, Loki slammed both of his fists repeatedly against the dirt—both shacking with boiling rage. “How… how am I not enough…” he muttered to himself. “All these years… for what? I’m not resigning yet!”
“Loki…”
Back in the impending fight, King and Theo stood next to each other to face the god on their own. Despite their new arrival however, Specter remained indifferent to their presence—his glowing eye simply observing cautiously from the distance. Theo turned to look behind from over his shoulder, instructing both injured knights to flee.
“If you stay here much longer—”
“I can take it,” Loki pushed himself to stand—his shoulders dropped, and his body covered with bruises and cuts. “I won’t let him escape… not when I’m this close.”
Atalanta groaned as she stood up herself, tearing her shattered armor with her hands—now carrying only her one-piece black suit underneath, and her cracked golden plate boots. “We don’t really have much time… but I guess we are doing this.”
“It doesn’t matter,” claimed Loki—materializing one of his azure swords in hand. “Thirty minutes… just give me thirty minutes.”
All four knights stood side by side in front of Specter, ready to face their foe as one. Despite King’s suggestion and command towards Loki, both him and Atalanta refused to leave the god to do as he pleased—their oath as gladean knights stubbornly keeping their heads in the fight.
Now that the fight had come to a temporary stop, a sudden thought crossed The Golden Lightning’s mind for a second as she looked deeply into Specter’s crimson eye—shaking off the peculiar feeling that struck her.
END OF CHAPTER