Kingdom of Heildin, Heaven’s Castle: 936, March 16th, Friday, 12:30 AM.
Claire was hurled away by the impact of Euthycia’s blade colliding with her pistols, flying across the large stone bridge that connected the city with the castle—landing on her back at the center of the platform. The armor-clad princess leaped from above and landed on top of the lieutenant, lifting her chin with the tip of her blade.
“Surrender,” she demanded with a fierce glare. “A human can’t possibly defeat a hybrid.”
“I’ll take my chances,” Claire retaliated by summoning her spectral bike in front of the knight. Her opponent however, deflected the wheels of the motorcycle with a quick strike using the back of her fist—launching the bike off the bridge.
For the princess surprise, the lieutenant’s distraction worked well enough to deliver a powerful shot against her ribs—staggering her away with a painful cry while holding the affected area. Eutychia groaned in pain while checking her palm, noticing the blood dripping from her hand.
Claire stood back on her feet and quickly put distance between them, spinning the pistols in her hand and stopping to point them against her opponent. “This fight is pointless,” she rebutted against the princess’ actions—keeping an attentive glare on her adversary. “Specters are moving against the city, why are you fighting me?”
With a quick cutting motion, the black knight ignored the fading pain in her sides and took a fighting position. “The gladean knights will deal with them... I will take care of your company.”
Eutychia moved in the offensive, sprinting towards Claire with her sword ready to strike. Standing her ground, the lieutenant summoned the spectral bike to charge at the princess. The black knight however, jumped over the motorcycle and propelled herself forward in mid-air—taking Claire by surprise.
“...!” Avoiding the strong vertical swing of the princess’ long sword, the lieutenant rolled to the side as the concrete shattered against the blade’s powerful impact. She rotated quickly into a crouching position, her feet standing near the edge of the bridge while facing Eutychia—the cold and poorly illuminated water below waiting for her to fall.
“Cerberus must be destroyed,” the black knight stood with a prideful stance. “My father is the only one that can save this world, not your leaders or your heroes.”
Eutychia charged against Claire a third time, attacking with a spinning kick to throw her opponent off the bridge. The lieutenant leaped to the side and rolled across the floor—landing on her knees and releasing a quick burst of timed shots against the princess’ limbs.
Continuing her pursuit while deflecting the projectiles with her sword, Eutychia reached for the lieutenant’s throat with her free hand. She lifted Claire from the ground and slammed her against the concrete—dragging her across the concrete with a strong grip. Unable to overpower her adversary’s inhuman strength, Claire began to gather energy in one of her pistols—engulfing the gun in crimson sparks of lightning. Aiming for the princess’ head, the lieutenant hastily pulled the trigger and discharged the shot against her foe.
In an incredible show of speed however, the black knight moved her head just in time to avoid the shot. To her shocking surprise however, the roaring sounds of the spectral bike thundered right above her—flying at just the right spot to deflect the sparking crimson bullet into her back.
The impact knocked the princess off balance as she cried in pain, letting go of her grip from Claire and collapsing face first into the ground. An agonizing groan left her lips as she lifted her body into a push-up position—blood dripping from her mouth.
Claire dragged herself away as the throbbing pain settle in her body, slowly picking herself up with moaning sounds. With her shoulders dropped, she turned to face the stunned knight still lying on the floor—keeping a strong grip on her pistols. “I don’t care who does what...” she claimed with an exhausted yet angry tone. “The specters took everything from me... and I will not stop until I see every single one of them death.” the fatigue almost forced her to her knees, but was able to remain on her feet. “So... don’t stand in my way...” she breathed. “Because I will carry that wish... regardless of who I must face.”
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“You are the one in the way...” Eutychia objected with a groan—picking herself back up to face Claire. “Humans need to be protected... only the order can offer them safety.” she held her sword to her side—her intense glare prompting another attack.
“Don’t even try it,” Eric’s calm voice warned her from behind her.
Both combatants turned their gazes towards the noble, spotting Bloodhound standing nearby at the gates of the castle. Tori kept her stun gun as well as her med-kit at the ready—a scared yet confident expression in her face. Eric stood in a fighting position with his sword in hand—his loyal butler Gaspard beside him. Scott’s glasses shined in the distance, he kneeled with his rifle on top of one of the castle’s balconies—raising his hand with a quick thumbs up towards the lieutenant.
The black knight puffed air through her bared teeth, knowing well her condition was less than ideal for a fight with multiple opponents—even if most of them were human. She took a prideful position while surrounded by Bloodhound, keeping her face stoic and her head high. With a quick motion of her blade, the princess sheathed her sword back into its scabbard in her lower back—giving up the fight.
“You’ll regret this...” she said under her breath, stomping her way back to the castle—ignoring Eric, Tori and Gaspard as she walked past them.
Claire collapsed on her knees, unable to keep herself standing. The fight was drawn out longer than anticipated and the ferocity of the black knight’s attacks were nothing she’s ever experienced during her career—the lieutenant’s vision grew blurry as the echoing voices of her team calling to her reached her ears.
Deadlands, A Mile Away from Heildin’s Capital: 936, March 16th, Friday, 12:30 AM.
Sebastian moved backwards while deflecting Atalanta’s lightning speed attacks, her every strike shook the ground as her glaive clashed with the major’s giant sword—sparks of azure and crimson lightning flew across the battlefield during the exchange of blows.
The once peaceful green fields of Heildin were devoured by the Deadlands, scorched earth and thick red fog was all that remained as it expanded further into Heildin’s capital. Large hordes of specters charged with ravenous hunger towards the city walls, but their advance was intercepted by king Date’s gladean knights.
Both armies clashed in between the Deadlands and Heildin, neither side giving up a single acre of land. Atalanta twirled rapidly with her glaive, absorbing the energy from her azure artery network into her weapon. With a strong thrust of her blade, she attempted to pierce through Sebastian’s defenses in a single blow—forcefully hurling the major away.
Sebastian managed to land the fall, but quickly fell to his knees—his twitching body covered in azure lightning. “Ouch...” he chuckled with a groan. To the masked knight’s shocking surprise, the major was able to stand back on his feet. “You could’ve killed me with that if you wanted to...” Sebastian smiled with a puzzled expression. “I’m glad there are still knights out there carrying their oaths,” he stood tall and rested his giant’s sword blade on his shoulder—ready to begin round two.
Atalanta took a fighting position herself, the intimidating stance of The Golden Lightning radiated sparks of electricity that traveled across the scorched earth. “You can still fall back,” she calmly suggested. “Leave this place and let me deal with the specters here.”
“Sorry...” Sebastian placed his sword in front of him—holding the grip with both hands. “But I can’t do that yet.”
???, ???: 936, March 16th, Friday, 12:30 AM.
Sovereign carried Lucy to her bed, the slumbering girl rested soundly in his arms with a peaceful smile. He walked up the stairs into his deceased mother’s chambers, a small yet charming room he kept clean and decorated with many different flowers he grew himself—an art thought to him by his mother.
A small wooden frame rested on the desk beside the bed, holding the photo of a young woman of natural silver hair—smiling at the camera with glimmering hazel eyes. Her tired yet radiant smile represented the happiest moment in her life, tenderly holding a small baby boy in her arms—his silver hair matching her own.
Lying the sleeping girl on the single bed, Sovereign accommodated her carefully and protected her from the cold with a blanket—patting her head gently before turning the lights off and leaving the room. He closed the door slowly as to not make any noise, but a sudden stinging pain in his heart forced a painful groan out of his lips—slamming his hand against the wall to keep his frail body from falling.
Using the walls to support himself, Sovereign stumbled his way inside his own room—leaning his back on the wooden door. The place lacked illumination, with only the moonlight providing brightness from the window. His breath became heavy and his voice rough and distorted, swallowing hard as sweat dripped from his forehead.
“Ha-ha...” he cracked a short laugh, interrupted by a series of violent coughs that spew blood on his clothes and the floor. “Just a bit longer...” he grasped for air through his mouth, directing his gaze towards a broken sword laying on the floor near his bed—its shattered blade giving away a faint azure light.
END OF CHAPTER