Center of the Deadlands: 936, December 31st, Monday, 6:00 AM.
Against all odds, and only able to survive thanks to the demonic powers of the spectral gear, Claire and her Bloodhound bravely confronted the greatest challenge of their careers to date. At the very front of their combined assault, the lieutenant exploited every technique she’d learned over the year to keep the daemon’s attacks from reaching her—unleashing barrage after barrage against her opponent, calling specters into her aid, or striking with her motorcycle at full force.
Scott took his place as the sharpshooter of the team, providing fire support with his rifle from a safe distance. Somewhere away from the action, Tori had spread a large towel with all her medical tools lying on top—her hands and face coated in Loki’s red blood. Serving as an assistant, Eric helped clean the open wounds of the gladean knight, and watched over the girl as she performed a field surgery on the dying man.
“D-don’t worry, mister knight…” Tori offered comforting words, trying to keep him calm through the process of healing his injuries—injuries that would’ve killed a person ten times over already. “I have field experience in suturing wounds like this. Sorry the anesthesia didn’t work on you, but I assure that I—”
“Shut up already…” Loki retorted through gritted teeth. “I didn’t give you permission to touch me…”
“We are saving your life,” Eric told him with a frown. “For some reason…”
“Eric!” Tori reprimanded the noble, moving her attention back to her patient. “Mister knight, what is your blood type?”
“Blood… how the hell… would I know that?”
Fearing the worst, Tori furrowed her brows in concern for the gladean knight’s well-being as he refused to cooperate, though her determination to save him did not falter. The resolute medic looked into the cluster of tools at her disposal, settling for a bag of resistant material with a tube connected to it. The item was filled to the brim with a crimson liquid, which she intended to use in order to extend the dying man’s expiration time.
Tori made her preparations quickly, wasting not a single second while the battlefield trembled with the powerful strikes of King and Claire. Thanks to Loki’s diluting attitude, as his fading consciousness allowed her to focus on her job, the young medic finished just in time to begin the blood transfusion. She connected the plastic tube of the blood bag directly into the knight’s veins, calling for Eric to assist her in holding his arm steady.
“You really think this will work?” the noble asked, moving his eyes towards the soaked bandage in Loki’s torso—its white color tainted all over with red. “Is this even safe to use on him?”
“Yes,” answered Tori, putting her fate in the knight’s resilience, as well as the advanced tools provided by Cerberus. “Have you heard of Jacob Foley, Eric?”
“Jacob Foley… he is a scientist.” Eric answered with a nod. “He was responsible for the ‘Foley-Process’, aiding the empire’s fields with the safe production of crops. He left the empire, and joined Cerberus after that.”
“Hehe,” The young redhead couldn’t help but giggle. “Yes, he developed some of the tools we medics of the company use on the field. These bags help in keeping the blood fresh for a long time, so I’m not worry about that. Sadly, we don’t know the gladean knight’s blood type, so the risk is still there…”
“Are you done… pestering me yet?” interrupted the knight with a growl, his quick breaths quivering in pain. “I have… a score to settle…”
“You have to rest,” said Tori. “We did everything we could to help you, now it’s up to you to allow your body to heal.”
Loki’s angry frown quickly shifted into amusement, as the young medics words drew a short laugh from his lips. The pain that crawled through his body put a quick end to the man’s joy however, turning his laugh into an agonizing series of groans. With his entertainment cut short, the knight relaxed his breathing by inhaling as deeply as his body would allow, still trembling through the torture.
“What’s so funny?” Eric crossed his arms with a raised brow.
The knight chuckled once again, clenching his jaw before replying. “If my pathway can’t heal me… what makes you think that your toys will do anything for me…”
“We stopped the bleeding!” Tori protested, refusing to give up on the dying knight. “Your wounds would’ve killed a normal person instantly… but you are alive! We can still save you. You may need further treatment at headquarters, but we have a vehicle! We’ll take care of you there after you’ve stabilized.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’ve heard stories from Gaspard… but if your pathway is so badly damaged, shouldn’t you become some sort of specter?”
“Ngh… I’m using my pathway to avoid it… that’s the only thing keeping me alive.” Replied Loki. “If I use it to heal myself… then I’d become a daemon almost immediately. I don’t need to tell you why that’s a bad idea… do I?”
“Right…” nodded the noble. “Listen, I’ve seen Tori treating the wounded many times. She’s saved more lives than you realize, if you someone can save you from this… it would be her.”
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“You… you make me sick…” groaned the knight.
“Hehe, you already seem more awake than a few minutes ago.” Tori expressed with a giggle. “I… If only I could’ve done the same for Ninigi… I hate myself for freezing the way I did…”
“There was nothing you could’ve done, Tori.” Eric told her.
“Ninigi?”
While the battle took place at a safe distance away from the improvised medical camp, Eric filled the knight in on Bloodhound’s recent findings. Loki’s furious frown stared daggers into the blonde man’s eyes, who described the gladean knight they encountered lying breathless in the dirt. The young noble hid the detail about Claire’s azure ring, but the order’s champion remained solely preoccupied with the current state of his old mentor.
His mind returned to the encounter he had with the lieutenant merely a few hours ago, when his senses failed to detect anything particular about the girl and her infant companion. The description of Ninigi’s vanishing body with a blinding flash of light circled around his every thought, as he himself had witnessed the tenacity of the nearly unkillable knight. Though missing the detail of Claire’s ring, the idea of her presence being connected with his mentor’s disappearance remained a strong consideration in Loki’s mind. He was once taken into a strange world by Ninigi himself, where him and Atalanta met the bearer of the tittle of champion—who took them in as his students.
“Are you sure… he was… dead?” he asked them.
The pair looked at each other with puzzled expressions, but quickly nodded in response at the knight’s question. Eric described the many wounds that adorned the champion’s body, as well as his absent breathing.
“Although…” the noble rested his chin on one fist. “I’d say his wounds weren’t as severe as yours.”
“Ah… t-that’s true.” Tori joined in. “Do you mean that…”
“Urk!” Loki released a loud grunt, making the pair flinch at his sudden reaction. “I’m not sure… I wasn’t there… but the bastard had gone through worse than what you just described.” He narrowed his eyes, clear jealousy displayed behind their gleaming azure. “Tsk! To let himself be defeated before facing me again… the coward… I’ll… I’ll kill him one day!”
Leading one hand to her chest, Tori laughed nervously before sighing with relief, having had her spirits lifted by the more vivid patient. “I’m happy to hear he could be fine… That means you should rest too! If you recover fast, I’ll be rooting for you when you fight Ninigi again! I Promise!”
“Stop talking to me…”
At the fierce battle that transpired during Loki’s treatment, Claire found herself panting with fatigue while a nauseating sensation forced her vision to blur slightly. The aggressive push of her absurdly fast and strong opponent kept her on the move constantly, a task where only her spectral bike proved of enough assistance to keep with the daemon.
Claire rode away and around her frightening foe, who had nearly ended her life with a single swing of his blade in many occasions. Her smart and quick implementation of the spectral gear saved her from every mortal blow thrown at her, however, even when being fueled by the Deadlands itself, both Juno and Jupiter struggled to put a dent in the giant’s hardened skin.
“Surrender, girl.” King calmly suggested, as he stood at the center of a cyclone created by the lieutenant’s motorcycle—encircling him with its tremendous speed. “I’ve yet to show you what I’m truly capable of.”
“Tch! Brag all you want... I will still put you down.”
“I heard you befriended the god… are these tools his gifts to you?”
“The god?”
Catching Claire’s distracted gaze by his sudden claim, King took the opportunity to move into the offensive with a single jump forward. His extremely sharp vision allowed the giant to time his attack perfectly, as he leaped in front of the lieutenant’s trajectory to put an abrupt halt to her bike’s advance. King clasped the grip of his sword with one hand, and with every intention of ending his opponent’s life in one strike, he swung the weapon in a powerful horizontal swing that left little to no room for reaction.
“…!” Claire’s eyes widened in shock, but the fast automated response from her motorcycle fired up just in time to prevent her death at the hands of King. “Ah!”
The spectral bike dispersed into tiny particles of crimson, bringing their owner down to the ground instantly. Following the motion of her fall, Claire arched her back while midair in attempt to move away from the azure blade of her foe—watching his gigantic sword split the air in half just above her face. She successfully avoided certain death, but with nothing to stop her fall, the lieutenant hit the dirt forcefully with her back—causing her to bounce and roll away while she curled into a ball.
“Not so fast…”
Her fast spinning would be stopped almost immediately by the hands of King, who forcefully grabbed her by the shoulder to lift her from the ground. Claire screamed at the painful grip of the giant, feeling his fingers tear deeply into her flesh. Ignoring the distressed cries of the girl, King lowered her close to his face to enjoy her agonizing expression from up close—applying further pressure on her shoulder, and nearly snapping her bone out of place.
“Aaargh!”
“Now you d—"
A loud bang suddenly echoed in the battlefield, drowning the lieutenant’s screams for a short second. King’s head was thrown forward by a strong projectile that hit the back of his head, forcing him to release Claire from his clutches. Though unscathed by the bullet, the sneaky and insulting attack that had struck him caused the blood inside his veins to boil—drawing an angry grunt out of the giant daemon.
Claire wasted no time in mounting her motorcycle once again, riding off into a safe distance before leading one finger to her earpiece. “Thank you, Scott… I owe you one.”
“I thought that was two?” replied the man.
“Hah… that means two hours of extra training then.”
“It was only one… My bad. Is your shoulder doing alright, lieutenant?”
“I’ll live…”
Her attention back on the monstrous daemon, Claire straddled the motorcycle while keeping her feet on its footpegs, her right hand operating the throttle, and her left taking care of the clutch. Being a sentient being itself, Claire’s spectral bike could stand on its own without the aid of its owner’s feet while remaining idle, allowing her an instant start once her hands twist the accelerator.
“You will not escape me again,” King informed her from a distance, planting the enormous blade of his sword on the ground—kicking up a pile of rocks with the impact alone. “Once I get my hands on those toys of yours…” he wiped the dust off his hands. “You will be nothing but a weak and fragile girl against my might.”
Narrowing her eyes at the giant’s taunts, the lieutenant leaned forward to center her weight on the bike, proceeding to exhale slowly through pursed lips. “Ready?” she asked her gear, which it replied instantly with a confident roar. “Heh… let’s give it our best.”
END OF CHAPTER