15
Invincible Defense
https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/856577034012721194/1155906496362708992/Seven_Shields_Symbol.png?ex=655b8bd0&is=654916d0&hm=ce7cfb9ec8be51995c74fed59b795053fb6c50726cdd6712b37081d6cb70cdd7& [https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/856577034012721194/1155906496362708992/Seven_Shields_Symbol.png?ex=655b8bd0&is=654916d0&hm=ce7cfb9ec8be51995c74fed59b795053fb6c50726cdd6712b37081d6cb70cdd7&]
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“It occurred to me after the conference,” Claudia began, as she closed the door and walked behind her desk. “You’ll be turning twenty soon, won’t you?”
Ansel stopped short in the middle of the study, his eyebrows shooting up, almost looking surprised. He glanced away for a moment, seeming to count along in his head, before turning back to her with a faint nod. “Uh… yeah. I guess I will, huh?”
Klaus spoke up then, stepping towards her desk. “Well, then. I know the timing is somewhat off, but seeing what you have ahead of you… This is as good a time as any,” he said, as he came to a stop beside the suit of armor beside her.
“Sir?” Ansel tilted his head, glancing back and forth between the two of them. “I don’t really follow.”
“As I said before, Ansel,” she said, “you’ve a long road ahead of you. And… although your apprenticeship has ended, I— We— thought it best to give you something to help you see this through. This is proof of your dedication, and proof of our trust. It’s yours now, Ansel.” Claudia traced her fingers over the armour, a light smile playing on her lips as she met his eyes. “Think of it as an early birthday present.”
He stood stock still for a moment, his eyes widening slightly. Then, with a sharp breath, he took a small, hesitant step forward. “This… It’s mine?” he asked, almost as if he expected she might tell him it was all a joke.
Claudia laughed softly, nodding to him.
“Lady Claudia, Lord Klaus, I… I don’t know what to say.” His voice was barely more than a whisper as he reached out a hand towards it. His fingertips gently brushed over the smooth, gray metal, tracing along its curves and contours with a kind of reverence.
“You don’t need to say anything,” she said, as her smile softened. “Don’t doubt yourself—You’ve proven more than worthy of it.”
“Worthy…” A silence swept over the room, the sound of their breathing seeming to fill the void left in the quiet.
Ansel still stood there, his hand pressed against the metal with an almost loving caress.
And then he drew back, and turned to face her.
“I can’t,” he said, shaking his head.
Claudia slowly tilted her head to one side, blinking at him. “I’m sorry?”
“I mean— don’t get me wrong; this is… it’s amazing. I can’t thank either of you enough for this, but... “ Ansel stopped, taking a moment to recompose himself, before looking up to meet her eyes. “If it’s a matter of being ‘worthy,’ then I can’t accept this. I’m not anywhere near that.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him, then glanced over at her husband. Klaus met her gaze with a shrug, a small smile creeping across his lips.
“Ansel,” he began. “...Could it be that you were dropped on your head as a child?”
“W-what? No, sire,” he said, shaking his head.
“Then, I think you might be misunderstanding the situation,” she said softly, moving over to him. She laid a hand against his chest, just over his heart. “I told you earlier that you have a long road ahead of you. I’m telling you now that you are worthy of this. Neither of these are untrue. But most importantly, this is a gift from us to you. You don’t have to prove anything to accept it.”
Ansel met her gaze, then looked down to the hand over his heart and frowned, biting his lip. “Then, that makes this a bit more difficult, you know?” he said quietly. “There was actually something else I wanted to ask the two of you for. So, it wouldn’t really be fair to take this, too.”
“Oh?” Claudia withdrew her hand and tilted her head, urging him to go on.
Ansel smiled somewhat bashfully and scratched at his jaw, as he continued, “Well… You see, I’ve got a friend. He’s here in Geofu, and he’s kinda fallen on hard times recently. So, I was wondering if—”
“Your Excellency?”
The voice brought her back from her reminiscence. Blinking herself back to reality, she saw Roslyn still standing beside her. “Ah. Forgive me,” Claudia said, softly shaking her head. “I was… lost in thought for a moment. “
Roslyn responded with a nod and a faint smile, before gesturing to the troops assembled beyond the portcullis. “They’re ready, your Excellency.”
Claudia turned her attention to the contingent. They had all assembled into perfect, orderly ranks. Her Dawn Templars, Geofu’s soldiery, and even a force of volunteers, composed of townsfolk and disparate refugees, whose bodies visibly trembled in apprehension.
Theirs was a fear that hung over even her own heart. Still, she straightened her shoulders and strode forward as she began; “My friends, my comrades—You have all been through much to be here. Some of you were driven from your homes, your families. Some of you had no homes to return to, and found sanctuary in the Holy City. All of you had to endure hardship and loss I cannot begin to describe.”
She paused for a moment, closing her eyes, before continuing. “But you have chosen to stand here on this day, to participate in this most perilous of endeavors. You have chosen to take up arms, not for your own salvation, but for the salvation of others.”
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“Your fears are not groundless. Indeed, they are very well founded. But if there’s to be any hope for a tomorrow, it must start here. And it must start with you.”
Even from all the way up in the battlements of Ken, general Graves’ voice carried through the crisp air, reverberating off of the stone walls and out across the thousands gathered there.
“Old man really knows how to fire up a crowd, don’t he?” Kirk remarked to no one in particular, his voice positively dripping with sarcasm.
Vera turned her head to look at him, one eyebrow arched. “That right? You wanna go and tell him that yourself?” That was all it took for Kirk to bite his tongue and shut up.
Though, in all honesty, she couldn’t find it within herself to disagree with him. The general’s words did little to raise anyone’s spirits. She knew that none of what he said was untrue. She knew why he said such words, why they needed to be said. But still, it felt like he was speaking his own eulogy. And by proxy, everyone else’s as well.
“Hell,” she said, shaking her head with an exaggerated sigh. “If I’d known he was gonna get this gloomy, I wouldda brought different boots.”
Kirk, Colette, Biggs, and several of the serjeants around her snapped their heads in her direction almost immediately, their eyes widening in what could only be described as horror. There was a moment of stunned silence before a single, solitary chuckle broke out, piercing through the sudden tension.
Vera allowed herself to smile, as she looked around at her amused subordinates. She needed this. They all did, if just for the briefest moment. “He’s not wrong, though,” she said, turning back to face the front. “This is gonna get ugly as all hell. Not all of us might make it. But now’s not the time to get all pessimistic and gloomy. We’re fighting for the future, so we need to have hope, if nothing else.”
A couple more chuckles and quiet agreements answered, and she felt the tension break. She nodded to herself, satisfied; that was enough humor for now. She cleared her throat and directed her gaze up the battlements, signaling that it was time to get back to business.
Almost as if on cue, the general raised his voice, lifting his head up high, and Vera could almost imagine the veins in his neck protruding. “...If the aberrant Legion has already defeated your mind—If you believe that defeat is our only truth, then you have already lost without ever setting foot on the battlefield. This cannot be. The only way this day can be won, is if you are able to overcome that terror! This is the duty that we, as soldiers, have sworn to uphold!”
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All throughout Ur, King Rufus Fiorire’s voice resonated off the buildings and through the streets, though Diana barely even registered his words in her mind.
Her fingers idly tapped along her spear’s shaft, following along with some vague rhythm in her head. If one were to ask her about it, she’d be hard-pressed to remember what the hell it even was. Nothing important, that was for sure. A distraction to keep her mind from fixating on what was to come.
‘I’m nervous,’ she realized. The sensation almost surprised her, in a way. Her fingers’ rhythmic drumming halted, her hands clenching tightly around the spear. She took in a deep breath, the morning’s cool air flooding into her nostrils. She held it for a moment, before exhaling.
“You seem deep in thought,” her grandfather’s voice came, bringing her out of her trance. Diana turned her head, meeting his sideways glance, and couldn’t stop herself from smiling in response.
In truth, he made a strange sight, clad in light half-plate armor and an old, worn-out surcoat. The garment was from an age where the kingdom of Ur’s colors were much more vivid, almost garish. The splotches of dull red that remained reminded her of blood. For a moment, Diana wondered if his father, and perhaps his father’s father had worn it at some point, long ago.
“And you seem un-stressed, paw,” she responded, as she pushed herself off of the wall.
“One of us should be,” her grandfather chuckled mirthlessly, moving to stand closer to her. All around the two of them, several other members of the militia shifted about, filling the air with a low din. Some she recognized from Halem. Others she hadn’t met at all. They all seemed so nervous, so on edge. Herself included, though Diana would never let herself show it.
Even so, her grandfather was wise to her ways, as he always seemed to be. Slowly, he reached out a hand and held on to one of hers, gently squeezing. She squeezed back.
Somewhere in the distance, the king made some bold proclamation or another, prompting rousing cheers from the assembled troops. Mere streets away, a platoon of mounted knights rode by, no doubt getting ready to lead a charge. Somewhere on the walls above, artillery crews cleaned and loaded their cannons, making preparations to fire.
Even with all the hustle and bustle around them, she kept her gaze on the man before her. It was needless—and perhaps even foolish—to worry for his safety, she knew. After all, he wouldn’t be the one facing the Legion in the thick of the battle. As a field medic, he should theoretically be in a position far away from the fiercest of the fighting. That was assuming, of course, that the battle went exactly as planned.
She had no doubt that he felt the same. Who wouldn’t, after all, seeing their own granddaughter marching off to face certain death?
And yet… There was no way he would ever think to ask her to stay back, safe behind Ur’s walls. And she couldn’t bring herself to ask that of him, either.
This was home now, and both of them were much too damn stubborn to leave it undefended.
For a moment, the two of them shared a smile. Then, he wordlessly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. “Be good,” he said. “I love you.”
“You too, paw,” Diana responded. “I love you too.”
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She paused again, drawing in a breath as she opened her eyes once more, focusing on the crowd before her. Their eyes were still firmly upon her, intently listening to her every word.
“I know that already, far too much has been asked of you,” Claudia continued. “Far too many sacrifices have been demanded. But the end to this conflict is so close, you might even touch it, if you’d just reach out.” She trailed off, allowing the silence to linger a moment longer, almost without realizing it.
“Now, more than ever, is not the time to waver,” she said. “There will be more hardship and loss ahead of us. I cannot promise that it will not touch you. But all throughout our seven Shields, our comrades are also stepping forward to stand beside us! Far in the north, the Black Hounds march to topple the Black Citadel! We are people of different races, nations, and creeds, but we are bound together as one. Each of our destinies is linked to one another’s.”
Claudia raised her chin, unsheathing her sword, whilst her other hand rose to salute. The troops answered her salute, the portcullis slowly beginning to rise. In the sky above them, patches of blueish-gray were just beginning to appear along with rays of orange.
“This is why I ask of you, once more for our Alliance—Dedicate your hearts and souls to the cause!”
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Abruptly, another flash illuminated the sky, preceding a deafening rumble. Despite our distance to it, the very ground around us trembled with the force of the detonation.
“Gods!” Franz shouted, as a plume of flame and smoke rose to the sky. Many of us huddled down tightly together behind the ridge, shielding ourselves from the threat beyond it.
My heart beat furiously against my chest as I ducked my head down, taking several shaky breaths. The pungent smell of smoke and burnt dirt filled my nostrils, and I swallowed nervously as I waited for the next blast.
But none came.
After several long, horrifying minutes, when nothing happened, I allowed my body to sag, slumping back against the tiny hill.
Gods, It felt like the world was going to cave in on itself. I could feel my hands shaking inside my gauntlets, and my pulse was a racing roar against my ears.
This was all wrong. All wrong. I knew that our assault wouldn’t simply go off without a single hitch, but… I never would have expected something like this.
Some of the men quietly cursed, or muttered prayers to some god or another, or both.
But then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Keane. He hadn’t moved at all throughout any of it. No, he stood poking his head up at the top of the ridge, his eyes staring unwaveringly forward.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Ryam hissed at him through clenched teeth, “Are you trying to get your fucking head blown off?”
“It’s stopped,” Keane said softly, more to himself than to anyone else.
“...Huh?”
As we all stared at him, he slowly began to climb down from his vantage point, his eyes seeming distant as he cupped his chin. “Why the hell would it stop?”
“Hey, the fuck you goin’ on about, four-eyes?” Hicks asked, shaking his shoulder somewhat roughly.
As if snapped out of a trance, Keane’s gaze focused once more, and he met Hicks’ eyes. After a moment, he shrugged. “Sorry, just got carried away with my thoughts there.”
“Well? What were you thinkin’? Spit it out already!”
“Fine, fine.” Keane heaved a sigh, and pushed his spectacles up, raising his voice to reach all of us. “In case anyone hasn’t sussed it out already, that big bastard out there is a golem.”
A golem… I’d never seen one before, myself, but I’d definitely heard about them. Magic constructs of some sort, made from inanimate objects and brought to life by powerful mages. Heck, I was pretty sure there was a famous city of sorcerers further south, where they were fairly common-place. Still, I’d never heard of anything capable of this much destruction.
“But, fuck, the Dark Queen really is something else,” Keane continued, his voice tinged with awe. “To think she’d be able to make something like this… Even in Kimia, there’s nothing that even comes anywhere close. That absurd size, all that sheer power... Gods, the magic used to create it must have been staggering. Let alone what it takes to bind it for centuries on end! I’m surprised the ground beneath the damned thing isn’t ripping itself apart—”
“Okay, whatever,” Kieran cut him off. “No one gives a shit about your theories of the damn thing, Keane! What’re we gonna do about it?”
“Hey, hold on,” I said with a tone that surprised even me, stepping in. “Let him finish. I’m sure he’s going somewhere with this. Keane, you said it’s stopped firing?” He nodded in response. “Why?”
“This thing is clearly protecting the Black Citadel. Now that we’ve stopped, it has too. Olga’s probably using this as a guardian of some sort.”
“I thought you said it was a golem?” someone asked.
If Keane was at all irritated by the constant interruptions, he didn’t show it. Instead, he merely nodded again in response. “I did. But that doesn’t mean it has to stick to a singular purpose. In fact, going by its age and weathering… I’d say this is what the Dark Queen used to construct the Black Citadel three hundred years ago.” But then he sighed and shook his head, before continuing.
“Either way, that’s irrelevant now. Just a few minutes ago, it didn’t hold back at all. There were hundreds of aberrants between it and us, but it still wiped them out anyway. It didn’t care. Whatever damaged intelligence it has must only dictate it to protect what’s behind it. Namely, the Citadel.”
“So… what’s that mean?” I asked, trying to piece everything together. “If it’s not firing anymore, can we keep advancing, or can we flank around it, or…?”
“No. None of that,” he said, his expression grim. “Even if it's all worn-out and damaged, the golem can still end all of us with barely any effort. Hell, if it wanted us dead, we’d be dead already. The only reason any of us are breathing right this moment is because in its eyes, we’re just not a threat to it or its master anymore.”
A shocked silence swept over all of us at those words, strangling any and all response.
“You really wanna know what we can do about it?” Keane let out a weak chuckle and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. I can’t see any way in which we come out of this on top.”
With those ominous words, I realized; he was right.
This was the worst possible scenario for our invasion. We’d made it all the way here, but we just couldn’t take the last step. What could we possibly do? Charge it head-on? We all already saw how that ended. Without being able to advance, we wouldn’t be able to capture the Citadel, much less reinforce our aberrants up ahead. And eventually, the Legion and its larger force would overwhelm them and win that battle of attrition. After that, we’d be easy pickings for them to fall on, and we’d have no way to fight back against them.
If we could somehow mount a retreat...
...No. Gods, it was even worse than that. Even if the aberrants somehow stay at a deadlock all the way at the other end of the battlefield, the fact remains that we were at the very heart of the Dark Queen’s country. Only about two hundred or so of us had Keane’s rings. Without any way to coordinate a coherent retreat, those of us without rings would end up being killed by the drain.
And then… That’ll really be the end. All of us would die in Garan, and our efforts will be for nothing, and everyone else back home would—
—Wait.
My thoughts ground to a halt as I furrowed my brows.
...The drain?
“Then,” Franz shakily spoke up, “what if one of us runs over to Vault’s group, and tries to get orders? Y’know, maybe we could all rush it in together, or…?”
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“Impossible,” Keane said. “You won’t even get close before the golem blows you away.”
“Shit, godsdammit!” Hicks growled, smacking his fist against the ridge. “This is so fucked up!”
Keane nodded somberly as he slumped down, taking his spectacles off. “Yeah… This is our loss. At this rate, I can’t see even a single one of us making it out of here alive.”
Then, I spoke up; “Keane… What if there was a way for us to counterattack?”
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There weren’t supposed to be any non-combatants outside the fortress. She’d been assured of that. The captains and commanders had sworn up and down that the immediate area was nothing more than an abject battlefield.
And yet, there they were.
Eleven civilians—Men, women, and children who had no business being anywhere near here—pressed up against each other, desperately trying to huddle together, as if they could somehow become invisible to the monsters encircling them.
The aberrants, roughly twenty in total, ranged from orcs to imps and even a few minotaurs, all towering over their victims.
One of Leslie’s men took the first shot, his iron bolt striking one of the orcs in the neck, and shooting out cleanly through its throat. The creature stumbled back, and then collapsed with a gurgling dying growl, as the rest of its mob turned their attention towards the incoming company.
“Now!” Vera shouted, already leaning low over her horse’s neck as she shot forward, sword in hand. The rest of her company followed through with her charge.
Aberrants were far stronger than any person could ever hope to be. That much was common knowledge even a kid could point out. But even then, they didn’t stand much of a chance when faced with a force five times their own number smashing into them at full speed.
Vera’s longsword sunk deep into an orc’s chest, her momentum carrying through the blade, and separating the creature nearly into two. Behind her, Alize and Biggs’ squads plowed through the rest of the aberrants, leaving none standing.
In mere moments, the skirmish had come to an end.
Once the dust settled, and the horses had come to a complete stop, Vera found herself staring down at the tiny crowd of wide-eyed civilians, still clutching at each other for dear life.
She slid off her horse and slowly approached them, her hands at her sides, and a small grin across her face. “Congratulations,” she said. “You’ve been rescued!”
Sadly, her levity didn’t quite seem to land. Most of them simply continued to stare at the soldiers around them, their expressions a mixture of terror and confusion.
A young woman, perhaps a little braver than the rest, took a hesitant step forward. “Then… Y-you mean, we’re safe?” She asked, her voice small and uncertain.
Vera nodded, though her smile slowly began to falter.. “Well, yeah. That’s what ‘being rescued’ usually entails. But, what are you guys doing all the way—”
Barely halfway through the sentence, the woman spun on her heel, cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted at the top of her lungs; “Everyone! It’s safe now! Soldiers are here!”
The reaction was almost instantaneous. At a house on the far end of the street, a door swung open, and a handful of people came spilling out. And then another door on a different house opened. Then another, and another, and before Vera knew it, the street was filled end-to-end with civilians. Some carried small children with them, and the older ones helped guide the younger ones out. Even a few dogs found their way outside, barking and wagging their tails.
Every single last one of them converged on Vera and her soldiers, their eyes wide and still bearing the tracks of recent tears.
Vera could do little more than just stand there, stunned into silence for a moment, as they all gathered around.
“What in the actual fuck,” Biggs said, eloquently expressing the same sentiment that must have been going through the rest of their minds.
And with that, the survivors began to bombard them with questions.
“Are the more of those aberrants around?”
“What’s going on? What’s going to happen to us?”
“Where is my son?”
“Are they all gone, did we win?”
“I need to find my mother, have you seen her?!”
All were fair questions, Vera realized. Unfortunately, she had no good answers for any one of them. She raised her hands slowly, struggling to make her voice heard over the crowd’s growing uproar. “Gods! One at a time! I can’t answer anything if you all just keep shouting into my damn face!”
That, if nothing else, seemed to quiet them down some. “Now then,” Vera continued, “Let’s try this again, yeah? Can anyone tell me just what the hell all of you guys are doing here?”
“Ah! Exceptional! Wonderful! Lovely!” a voice boomed abruptly, as if to answer her question before anyone else could speak up.
The crowd parted on that cue, just enough to allow a tall and rather portly figure clad in an ornate justacorp of red and white to pass through. His face was round, and carried more than a passing resemblance to that of a newborn’s, with a little button of a nose and chubby cheeks—a striking contrast to his waxed mustache and bassy voice.
With a wide and enthusiastic smile, he came to a stop before the company, brought his hands together in applause, and announced in grand tones, “Verily! Stupendous! Wondrous! How hopelessly brave! How unreasonably gallant! Truly, you are a breath of fresh air in this dreary and perilous day!”
A long, almost painful silence followed his grandiose declarations, as he looked upon the company with that same wide smile and an expectant look.
Vera, for one, found herself more than a little lost.
“Uh… Thank you?” she slowly responded, breaking the silence. “Erm, begging your pardons, but just who are you?”
“Ah!” he gasped, clasping a hand over his mouth. “Terribly! Frightfully! How dreadfully remiss of me to so forget my own manners!” he said, in that same cheery voice, taking a bow. “I am Vadim Rostov, and I have the privilege of being lord mayor to this quaint township of Elmräschen and its humble constituents.”
“Oh, good!” Vera said with a nod, folding her arms. “Then maybe you could tell me just why in Leihn’s hairy tits these people are here, Herr mayor?”
Again, the lord mayor nodded, not even batting an eye at her flagrant blasphemy. If anything, his smile only seemed to grow wider. “Of course! A fair question, from a fair warrior-maiden! The reason why so many are gathered here! Indeed, it is quite the story!
“When I was informed of the impending plague of fiends coming to descend upon us, why, I was beside myself with indignation! That this fair municipality should be ruined and torn asunder by their filthy hands? Never! Unconscionable! Impermissible!” His eyes positively twinkling, the mayor spread his arms and continued, “And so, I took it upon myself to organize a militia of sorts. I bid these good folk to remain by their hearths, for I would deliver them from the scourge of aberrants! Yes, I contracted a band of strong men of quality to defend us all from the foulest of evils! But when the time came and they saw the enemy, why, the blackguards practically soiled themselves in fear and—”
“Stop,” Vera cut him off, raising a hand. “Please, just… Stop.”
The mayor did just that, though he now looked to her with genuine surprise.
“Lord Mayor,” she continued, her voice dropping low, “do you understand what sort of situation this is?”
“I’m sorry?”
Slowly, almost numbly, Vera extended a finger, pointing towards the distance. “Right over there, right now, my comrades are fighting and dying. They’re giving their all to make sure any of us even have a tomorrow to look forward to. And we can’t do shit to help them, because these people haven’t been evacuated to the fortress.”
Rostov’s surprise slowly started to fade, and though his smile wavered, his voice still carried that same merry note to it. “Naturally! Clearly! Precisely! You and yours are soldiers of Ken, are you not? Then all is well! It is your wont to sell your lives for those of your betters, yes? Then, I shall not deprive you of this opportunity to do so here, my dear girl! Better that you perish, than…”
It was odd, how his words simply seemed to fade from her ears, as if she were underwater. All Vera saw in that moment was a man in a silly coat and an even sillier mustache, desperately clutching on to a veneer of dignity and authority.
It happened quite fast. She couldn’t quite tell when exactly she’d closed the distance between the two of them, nor when she pinned him back against a house, her naked sword clutched in her hand.
“H-hey, lieutenant!” a vaguely familiar voice called out, oddly distant. “What’re you doing?!”
Rostov’s smile had died at some point, and an expression of panicked fear had taken its place.
“You’re not completely wrong there, Herr mayor,” she began, her voice almost a whisper. “As soldiers, each and every last one of us is more than ready to give up our lives today. For each other, for you, even for people we’ll probably never meet... But they’re not just faceless pawns. Carlos, Natasha, Luther, Bruno, Louise, Igor, Marlene, Erin… All of them have lives and families. Each of them has a heart every bit as important as either of ours.”
And then her sword was up at his throat, still slick with aberrant blood. She could see the realization dawn on him slowly, his child-like face turning terribly pale. “So tell me something—If it’s okay to trade lives, and a single soldier’s sacrifice can save dozens, then how many people do you suppose could be saved if a single, well-to-do mayor’s life could be sold, too? How many families might keep their fathers, mothers, daughters and sons thanks to your own noble passing?”
“N-no! You mustn’t! I’ve hundreds of people who still rely upon me! I… I only—!”
“Ma’am.” A hand settled upon her arm. When she looked to the side, Vera met Colette’s green eyes, a frown creasing her brow.
“I really hate it when you guys call me that, you know,” Vera said, sighing as she eased her grip on Rostov’s fancy shirt.
The mayor slid limply to the ground, his forehead glistening with sweat as he panted heavily.
“Sorry,” Colette said with a simple shrug, “but something’s just happened, and we though you ought to know; General Graves has just taken to the field.”
Vera’s jaw went slack. “...You shot who in the what now?”
Kirk approached next, wordlessly offering her a telescoping lens. When she took it and looked through, her eyes went just as wide as her mouth had a moment before.
It was difficult to see with the dawn’s glow illuminating the battlefield, but even through it, the silhouettes of several men on horseback were quite clear. And even clearer was the banner one of them carried, flying proudly in the wind.
“Shit, right now?” she mumbled, sucking her teeth in irritation. With a flick of her wrist, she collapsed the lens, handing it back to Kirk. “Godsdammit, general, you’ve seriously got the worst possible timing…”
“Then… How do we proceed, lieutenant?” Colette asked. “Should we remain here? Should we rally to him? Should we…?”
How, indeed… Vera exhaled slowly, tapping at her brow.
Her immediate instinct was to remain in Elmräschen, and ensure the civilians’ safety. Yet, that would mean they wouldn’t be able to reinforce the general in his charge. The other option, dropping everything to rush to his side, presented the opposite problem—The town was completely defenseless. No other detachment or regiment was anywhere near, and there was no telling how soon anyone could get there, if they came at all.
And that’s not to mention how I fucked this up, she grimly thought, turning to face the townsfolk. Every last one of them, without fail, flinched and shrank away under her gaze. They were frightened of them. Terrified, even. And with good reason, too. She had, after all, nearly shanked their mayor right before their eyes.
Vera was the first to break eye contact, looking away with a grimace. Regardless of what she decided on now, there was no guarantee that any of these people would be at all willing to comply. “Well, shit,” she said to no one in particular. “It’s just lose-lose all-around…”
“Ha…! Ah, haha! Most jocular! Amusing! Risible!” Rostov’s deep laughter cut through her musings like a knife. Vera turned to see the mayor slowly standing himself up, dusting off his ruffled shirt.
Though his face was still pale, and his hands were visibly trembling, he managed to put on a wide, shining smile. Then, without warning, he took her free hand in both of his, firmly shaking it.
“Certainly!” he said, “thank you very much, lieutenant! It is good of you to allay these good folk’s fears with such a splendid jest!”
“...What.”
Without missing a beat, Rostov laughed again and continued, “Though, I fear they were not quite able to appreciate the elegance of your charm and wit!” Still holding on to her hand, he lifted it high above his head, and turned to face the crowd. “There, there, my good people! Have no fear! My friend and her most remarkable of soldiers are here to protect you! Why, they are but the very best General Graves has to offer! Truly, we are blessed to have such diligent guardians!”
It was easily the most bizarre spectacle Vera had ever seen. It probably would have made her laugh herself silly, if not for the fact that they actually were buying it. Slowly, the civilians’ fear seemed to drain out of them, a small gleam of hope rekindling in their eyes.
“Uh… Y-yeah! Right!” Vera hastily added, doing her best to smile. “Guess, uh, we both got kinda carried away there, huh?”
“Most amusing! I assure you!” Rostov said with another hearty laugh. Finally, he let go of her hand, and deeply bowed. “Now friends, I must beg of you; Allow these intrepid soldiers to escort us safely within the fortress’ walls! So long as they must worry for our safety, they will be thoroughly unable to concentrate on the conflict at hand! I promise you, there will be no greater ease to any mind than that of a soldier who knows their charges are beyond harm!”
The mayor’s speech was met with a small swell of assent, and soon after, the crowd stood by, ready to get moving at a moment’s notice. Vera wasn’t quite sure whether she should be amused or exasperated by the ease with which he’d sold the lie.
Still, if nothing else, he’d managed to win their compliance, which was a far better result than she could have hoped for.
By the time she turned once again to face Rostov, he’d already managed to slink off into the crowd. Meeting her gaze, he cheerily waved with one hand and gave her a thumbs up with the other.
“Clever fart,” she said under her breath. “Guess he’s good for something, after all.” She then turned back to her soldiers, her mind already racing to put together a plan. “Okay, you heard him! Kirk squad and Colette squad! Stick together, and evacuate the civilians to the fortress with Alize squad! Biggs squad, Leslie squad, and Nanba squad, with me—We’re going to reinforce the general,” she called out as she strode forward. Then, she added; “And no casualties! None of you knuckleheads are allowed to die without my say-so!”
Almost immediately, her orders were answered with a chorus of “Yes ma’am!” as the various squads saluted, their fists pounding over their hearts.
And despite herself, Vera couldn’t help but smile as she shouted back, “And quit callin’ me ‘ma’am,’ damn you!”
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“Hell no,” Reese simply said, firmly shaking his head. “I mean, seriously? A suicide charge? Come the fuck on, people, we gotta start thinking up better plans than this.”
Around us, several of the other Hounds nodded, quietly voicing their agreement. I glanced over at Hicks, who crossed his arms and looked off to the side, furrowing his brow.
“It doesn’t have to be all of us,” Edwin pointed out, though I could hear the uncertain tone in his voice. “Just… just some of us to go in.”
I wanted to pipe up and say… anything, really. But I couldn’t find it within myself to fault any of them for their reluctance.
Gods, I couldn’t even say for certain if it could work. The only one who could really make the ultimate judgement on it hadn’t even spoken up yet.
I glanced down to the ground, where Keane knelt, his gaze firmly locked on to a series of sketches and symbols he’d drawn onto the dirt with his finger. His face was blank, his eyes flickering to and from each design. In between hushed tones, I could just barely hear him muttering strange, foreign words and long strings of numbers, his finger carefully tracing over each pattern.
Then, without warning, he drew back and jolted up to his feet, so quickly that a good number of us flinched back.
“No,” Keane said simply, nodding to himself. He looked up to the rest of us. “It’s nowhere near a sure thing, but… It does stand a chance of actually working.”
“You serious?” Hicks raised an eyebrow. “I’m not a big fan of this whole ‘chance’ business.”
Keane shrugged, “Tough shit. It’s the best we’re gonna get,” he said, before taking off his ring, holding it up for all of us to see. “I’m not going to pretend that I’m any better than I really am—The enchantment on each individual ring is nothing special. By itself, it just barely manages to cancel out the Queen’s dark arts. So if just one person tried going up against the golem with one of them, they’d be fucked. But…”
Keane slipped the silver ring back onto his finger, a small smile spreading across his lips. “They’re not really meant to work by themselves. As their null areas overlap, the effect intensifies.”
“Meaning…?”
“To put it in layman’s terms; The more there are of them, the closer together, the larger and stronger the nullification grows. With enough of them, we may be able to extinguish the golem’s power, too.”
Hicks frowned. “Again with ‘may,’ and ‘probably.’ That shit doesn’t really inspire confidence, you know? How sure are you of it?”
“About as sure as I’m ever gonna be of any gamble,” Keane said. “Look, I don’t like this any more than you do, but it’s not like we have any other choice. The only path we have left is to go forward.” He then looked at me and nodded. “That’s more or less how you put it, isn’t it, Ansel?”
“Yeah.” Shakily, I nodded and stepped forward. Everyone’s eyes turned to me, but I forced down a swallow, somehow managing to keep it together. “Like I said, if we just let ourselves get locked down here, we’ll have already lost. Whether it takes minutes, a few hours, or even days, we’ll eventually get worn down. So we need to take this battle back into our own hands.”
My strategy—If it even could be considered one—to counterattack wasn’t the least bit subtle or elegant. If anything, I’d be the first to call it downright reckless. The whole thing hinged on using Keane’s rings to shield us from the golem’s blasts. Roughly one half of the spearhead would charge it head-on, trying to get it to focus on us, while the other half would split up again and slip around the sides and make for the Citadel.
If it all went right, the magic-killing field would be able to severely weaken the golem, if not disable it outright. From there, the rest of our forces would be able to advance and converge on the Black Citadel, just like we’d originally planned.
...Still, it was a hard sell. Not just because of how disastrously it could backfire if the rings failed on us, but because deliberately being bait to that kind of opponent wasn’t a position anyone would want to be in. I could see the apprehension in everyone’s eyes, the tightening of their jaws and clenching of their fists.
And, gods, I felt it too.
But...
I drew in a breath. And all of a sudden, that churning pit of fear in my stomach disappeared.
...No. It’s more like it changed, maybe. Like it somehow froze up and coalesced into something completely different. Though, for the life of me, I couldn’t tell what it was at all.
“Last night… Do you guys remember what Vault told us? Battle is all about victory. We’ve come all this way, we’ve fought with everything we’ve got, and we’re backed into a corner. But we literally can’t go back anymore. It’s right in front of us, all we need now is to reach out and take it! Even if it looks impossible, the only way to that victory is to fight. We need to fight on, no matter what!”
Something seemed to change within all of us at that moment. A mood swing so drastic I could actually feel it.
Kieran bit into his lip for a moment, before curling it back into a snicker. Then, Ryam started chuckling, followed by Hicks, and even Keane. Soon enough, everyone had joined in with their own quiet chuckles.
“Well shit, Red,” Reese managed to say, “that’s just downright motivational.” The others nodded, a few even reaching out to slap at my shoulder.
“Y-yeah?” I shifted somewhat awkwardly, and brought up my hand to scratch at my chin. “W-well, um, I just… I just said what I was feeling, you know?”
The fear, the uncertainty, it was all still here. But if nothing else, I could be glad that I’d somehow managed to lift that hopelessness away. The struggle before us was still going to be one like no other, but that invincible defense didn’t seem quite as invincible anymore.
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It didn’t take long for us to ready up. Before I knew it, our portion of the spearhead had broken up into three parts. Just as we’d planned, the spearhead had broken up into three portions. The central column was the largest—In it, a large chunk of the ring bearers assembled, including myself, Edwin, Vaughn, Dravin, and several others whose names I hadn’t learned.
Hicks would be leading the left prong along with Keane, while Kieran and Ryam would do the same on the right.
“The beauty of stupid plans like this one,” Keane had told us, “is that they’re simply so dumb. It’s just all about momentum. If they don’t trip up and fall apart at the very first step, they’re almost certain to succeed afterwards. So, y’know. Don’t fuck up.”
I watched as the others made their final preparations, checking their weapons and equipment one last time before our charge began. Just as I was about to slip my helmet on and mount up, I felt my hand brush against a thin string of some sort. For a moment, I thought that some stray thread of fabric had somehow managed to slip through a gap in my armor, until I looked down and saw what it was.
Your promise, that no matter what happens, you’ll live.
Prim’s ribbon… I’d completely forgotten that I’d tied it around my arm this whole time. Then again, I hadn’t really thought about her, or Lady Claudia, or Lord Klaus, or anyone else for a while now. I guess my mind had been so dead-set on what was immediately in front of me that I’d somehow forgotten about everything else.
I reached up and undid it, taking a moment to look over it again.
Then, I felt a hand settle on my other arm.
“Yo,” Hicks said, giving me a small grin. “What’cha got there, Red?”
I paused for a second, before returning a crooked smile of my own. “A metaphor someone gave me,” I said, as I wrapped the ribbon back around my right arm.
Hicks gave me a sideways glance, before shaking his head. “Sure, okay. At any rate, I just wanted to check up on ya. You good?”
“Sure,” I said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
He shrugged. “No particular reason. Just thought you’d be nervous, you know.” He trailed off, glancing away for a moment, then continued, “You really got the guys fired up, Ansel, but… It doesn’t change the fact that it looks ugly. Even with all that bravado, and shit, there’s still a chance that it’ll go wrong. You might not even get close.”
I frowned, turning to face him fully, but he was staring off towards the Black Citadel. I followed his gaze down towards the golem’s massive frame, and nodded slightly. “Yeah… You’re right. But even knowing that, well… I’m not the sort of person who’s gonna back down at things like ‘never,’ or ‘impossible.’”
Almost without meaning to, my eyes slowly drifted shut, my fingers gently touching the ribbon around my arm. “I’ve made a lot of oaths and promises to a lot of people. To be just. To honor their dreams. To fulfill their hopes. To give something back to them. No matter what happens, I’m not allowed to die here. So I won’t.”
I opened my eyes and nodded. I’m not sure whether it was for my own benefit or for Hicks’. Still, I clenched my hand into a fist and placed it on his chest, right over his heart. “We’re taking on the golem. There’s no ifs, ands, or buts about it. So everything else is gonna be on you guys, alright, partner?”
Hicks looked back to me, his expression unreadable at first. Slowly but surely, a small smile cracked its way onto his face, as he mimicked the gesture, pressing his fist against my heart. “Yeah… Alright. Just leave it to us, partner,” he said, his voice little more than a whisper.