16
Regenwasser
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“Advance!”
With that shout, our charge resumed once more. The hoofbeats of hundreds of horses striking against the ground almost drowned out all other noise, echoing like thunder throughout the open plains. The wind was unhindered by any trees or hills to divert it to any particular direction, and instead it just blew every at once, buffeting my face and tearing at my eyes, even through my helmet’s visor.
Still, I kept my vision fixed directly ahead, watching as the massive, dark form of the golem grew larger and larger as we advanced. It hadn’t moved at all from its original position, but instead stood there, almost as if it were waiting for us to come to it.
With each passing moment, I felt my muscles tensing up, and my breathing growing more rapid. The hundreds of meters of distance between it and us closed much too quickly. At this range, I could make out more and more details on its surface; from the cracked, crumbling stone, to the scorch marks and dents in its growths of excess iron, to the weathered patterns of the symbols carved across its body.
Keane’s right, I idly realized. This thing really is ancient.
My heart raced. My palms were incredibly sweaty inside my gauntlets. I forced myself to keep my breathing steady.
How far were we now? Three hundred meters? Two hundred, maybe?
And then, before I could think about it any further, it finally acted. The golem spread its arms, baring its cracked chest to us. All throughout its form, slivers of white light began to form, spreading out like shining arteries.
“It’s getting ready!” I shouted out before I could even think. “Gather close!”
The rest of the riders did so, moving closer into a tighter formation, so much so that our horses nearly collided into one another.
“Advance!” someone else shouted, and several others joined in with shouts of their own.
Though I could barely hear anything over the sound of my own thundering heartbeat, and the horses’ stampeding hooves, my throat felt raw. I realized that I was screaming something, too. Maybe it was a battle cry. Maybe it was a prayer. I didn’t know.
The light shining throughout the golem’s body merged into a single point at the very center of its chest, so bright that I had to avert my eyes. The very air around us seemed to ripple and distend, as if it were melting into a liquid of some sort.
And then, that blinding ray of light shot forward, enveloping all of us.
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He breathed in, keeping his grip firm around his blade, and the rest of his retinue did likewise. He tensed, drawing a breath as he reared back for another swing. The orc became little more than a vague blur as he passed by, lopping off its head. The head sailed through the air, spurting blood and gobs of pink viscera as it landed a fair distance away from its body.
To his left, Otwin, perhaps the closest thing he had to a second, cleaved off an aberrant’s arm at the shoulder, before running it through. To his right, Cederic finished off another with a brutal thrust through its mouth and into its brain.
“Have the heavy foot hold this hill,” Grave commanded in a low voice, just barely hearing himself speak over the din. From that vantage point, he could see several more cavalry formations hurtling forward, ruthlessly piercing into the aberrants’ flanks. Despite the enemy’s strength, and their overwhelming numbers, the battle was steadily shifting in the favor of Ken.
But it wouldn’t do to declare this as a victory just yet.
“And I will not stand idle,” he said to himself.
“Sire?” Otwin tilted his head, and behind his helmet, Grave knew that he was raising a brow.
Still, Grave looked past him, instead addressing the rest of his retinue. “Relay my command; fresh troops to the front! We are not to take any chances. Push through these aberrants, do not allow our momentum to stop!”
With a chorus of affirmatives, his soldiers were off, riding their horses down the incline, and towards the flat plain where the bulk of the fight was.
And then, he felt a rather strong and sudden compulsion. Perhaps it was a warrior’s instinct, drilled deeply into his very being, that had noticed something amiss. Perhaps it was a natural result of his many decades of warfare. Perhaps it was as simple as a hunch of “just because.”
Whatever the reason was, Grave obeyed the sudden urge and jerked his head back, just in time to see a spear whizz just past where his temple had just been.
From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of his attackers; Emerging from a copse of trees that just barely obscured them, dozens of twisted creatures made their stand, clutching crude weapons and braying at the top of their lungs.
At a glance, one might have been forgiven for mistaking them for men. They boasted long, untamed beards and two arms with five fingers, and two eyes, as men did. But the similarities ended at the torso.
Each of their waists seemed to meld into a bestial body, much like a horse’s or a bull’s. Their gleaming eyes held slit pupils, and their flattened noses flared with each of their animalistic snorts.
The centaurs let out ragged brays and shouts as they sped up their gaits to charge up the hill.
“Sire!” Cederic screamed, as he and the rest of his retainers whirled around to meet the centaurs’ charge.
His body moved without his bidding. His heels kicked into his horse’s side, his sword soaring to split a centaur’s throat in twain as he shot past it. The rest followed his lead, diving into the fray with loud oaths and war cries, meeting the aberrants with a fury that matched their own.
He breathed, his sword sliding into and out of the chest of another, his actions falling into a rhythm that became second nature, as breathing. Duck, parry, strike, block, repeat.
The battle had long since ceased being a thought process, and had instead become a natural response to the stimuli presented. It wasn’t until it was dead at his feet that Grave realized he had slain the leader of the monstrous horde, his horse crushing its skull with a forceful stomp.
The rest of the horde seemed to pause in their rampage. Yet, they did not break.
Instead, rather abruptly, their vigor and their volume rose. Brandishing their weapons and letting out fresh growls, the centaurs barreled forward with a burning fury. Much greater, even, than when their leader had been alive.
Grave’s eyes saw what was to come next. His body moved fluidly to intercept the attack. But even so, he wasn’t fast enough to bring down one of the centaurs as it tackled him off his horse’s saddle.
The two of them smashed into the hard packed earth, him on the bottom. The wind was knocked out of him, his sword still clenched in his hand. He wheezed, desperately trying to force air back into his lungs as the centaur loomed over him. The aberrant brought its axe down with a fierce hope, intent on splitting his skull wide open.
Grave just barely managed to roll out of the way in time, jamming his blade upwards into its upper chest as he did so. With one last pulse of strength, he twisted his forearms, driving the sword deeper into a hybrid monster’s belly. Blood poured out into a crimson shower, drenching him as the centaur’s hooves gave him one last weak kick, before collapsing onto the ground and moving no more.
Even as he stood, Grave gasped for air, his vision swimming. The other riders were fighting the centaurs off, but were hardly making much—if any—headway.
Careless. In his own intoxication with victory, he’d neglected the bigger picture, and allowed the aberrants to slip close.
“Your lordship!”
He managed to make out Otwin’s form from among the chaos, dashing towards him. Yet, before he could close even half of the distance, a sword’s tip pierced through his throat. Otwin fell from his horse, his mouth agape with a silent scream.
The centaur that had felled him then turned its eyes to Grave, grinning widely with jagged teeth. Its hooves kicked up the earth as it raced towards him, letting loose a triumphant howl.
Grave winced, forcing himself to stand up straight, sword still in hand. His senses grew fuzzy, his body heavy. But his eyes saw only the aberrant before him.
And as he brought up his sword, sliding into the wrath guard—Zornhut—the rest of the world seemed to fade away, everything coming still into a sort of simplistic clarity.
Right. Just as his master had taught him...
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All my mind could register at first was a deep, burning pain. It felt like every inch of my body was on fire, as if I was trapped in the depths of a forge.
Every breath I took felt like inhaling shards of glass, lodging them deeper into my lungs. Every time I exhaled, it felt like I was spitting out flaming coal.
But… I was breathing. Somehow, I was still breathing.
As the heat slowly lessened, I quickly blinked my eyes, the world coming back into focus. I felt my horse rock beneath me, still striding forward despite the overwhelming heat from moments ago.
From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the others. The vast majority of us were still mounted and in our correct positions, though a few horses had keeled over altogether with their riders on top of them. A few even looked like their clothes were on fire, which they desperately tried to pat out.
But it worked. Gods, it actually worked.
We’d managed to gather close enough at the exact moment the golem struck out. Our proximity had saved us, but only just. If any one of us had been even a step behind in that final dash, then we almost certainly would’ve been burned to a crisp back there.
I turned my head back to look at the golem, still shining white-hot and holding its position at the foot of the Citadel. And from this range we were in—Just a few dozen meters away from it—it wouldn’t have time to prepare another attack. We had a straight shot.
My dried lips parted to say something, but my burning throat refused to allow it. All that came out in the end was a loud, wordless shout, which was echoed in kind by the rest of the men.
Our horses burst forward, charging towards the enemy. The man to my left—Bertrand—was the first to reach it, swinging a greatsword with both hands at the golem’s shin.
And then the rest of us struck. Spears thrusting into stone, axes axes hacking at its limbs, maces breaking against its legs.
And to my surprise… It stumbled. The golem wavered, one foot reeling back as we smashed into it, before stumbling further back and struggling to stay standing.
It trembled for a brief moment, pitching backwards, before finally collapsing in a heap. The white light at the center of its chest—the source of the heat—seemed to flicker, growing dimmer and dimmer, and then it was no more.
I pulled back sharply on the reins of my horse, skidding to a stop along with the others. There was a moment of silence as we stared at the fallen construct, our breaths heaving in and out.
The silence was broken when someone—I’m not sure who—let out a weak, barely audible chuckle.
“Hah… Holy shit…! We did it!”
And just like that, it was like a dam had just burst, and all that pent up energy, fear, and anxiety exploded out of us.
“Hell yeah! Yeah!”
“We’re gonna win this thing! We’re gonna…!”
“Serves you right, asshole!”
Whoops and hollers burst out of all the men, laughing with a shaky giddiness as the adrenaline coursed through our veins. Even I had to smile, letting out a whoop of my own as I slumped back in my saddle.
I glanced beside me, and saw that Bertrand had pulled off his helmet to sweep a hand over his hair. “Shit,” he said breathlessly, grinning from ear to ear. “For such a huge pain in the ass, it sure went down like a fucking chump!”
If he was going to say anything further, he never got the chance to do so.
Faster than a cannonball, a giant gray blur smashed into Bertrand and his horse, both their bodies erupting into a red smear against the dirt.
I barely had time to register what had just happened when the fist lashed out again and smashed into someone else, his armor shattering into pieces as his body broke, before another was sent flying into the air.
The ground beneath us trembled as the golem rose to its feet again, ignoring the damage that should have destroyed it once and for all. With a dim light emanating from its body, it twisted around to face us, eerily silent.
“Shit! Spread out! Circle it!” Edwin shouted, kicking his horse into an immediate gallop as the golem cocked back one of its colossal fists. A mere heartbeat was all it took for the fist to slam back onto the earth like a bolt of lightning, thoroughly pulverizing three horses and their riders, who were too slow to move out of the way in time.
“What the hell!” I found myself shouting, as I spurred my horse forward. “It’s still got more fight left in it?” I could barely think, still struggling to comprehend the sight. Still, I forced myself to take in a breath, heavily exhaling through my mouth. Now wasn’t the time to lose my cool; we’d expected that taking it down would be far from an easy task. So this was just another step on our way to victory.
I caught Edwin’s eye and saw him nod, almost as if he knew my thoughts without needing to voice them.
“Encircle it!” he shouted again, his own mount skirting out of reach of the golem’s attempt to swat him from his saddle. “We can’t let this sonnuvabitch fire another blast! Fucking encircle it!”
On that cue, the remainder of our column moved to follow his lead, spreading out and guiding their horses to form a loose circle around the golem.
The enemy moved at a glacial pace as it swung its arms, struggling to face every new direction we came at it from, keeping a safe distance. But… something about this felt wrong. That sort of speed was nothing compared to what it had shown just moments prior.
Then, I noticed the glow again. Only, instead of like before, when it had charged up its shot, the light began gathering at the center of the golem’s chest, before spreading throughout the rest of its form.
“Gods,” I gasped, as the realization clicked in my head, and I shouted, “Get further away! It’s about to—!”
I was too late. Faster than any of our eyes could even begin to follow, the golem stepped forward, clearing dozens of meters in a single bound. With that same fluid movement, one of its arms lashed out and punched towards the ground, shooting dust and debris up into the air. Its other arm went the opposite direction, the enormous hand closing around the form of a rider.
For a moment, my mind blanked. And then instinct took over, as I angled my horse towards it, barreling forward with a wordless shout. In all honesty, I had no idea what my plan was; All I knew was that a comrade was in danger, and my body reacted to that.
And yet, before I even got close enough to do anything, the golem whirled right around, and though it lacked any eyes, I could practically feel as all of its hostility focused entirely on me. Its arm reared back, then immediately shot forward again, lobbing the man it’d grabbed right at me.
Somehow, I managed to catch his wide-eyed expression, just before his body slammed onto mine.
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She breathed out. Slowly, Claudia stepped forward, and grasped Roslyn’s discarded sword, almost as a test to herself. A challenge, to remind her numbed fingers that they were still capable. The troll, however, didn’t seem to pay her any mind.
Rather, the aberrant kept its gaze focused entirely on Roslyn, as it held her in its grip. Its green skin held such a dark, lustrous tone that it almost appeared to be pitch black, bulging with muscle. Larger, stronger, and much more vicious than their brethren, black trolls were exceptionally dangerous foes, even just by themselves.
Yet, this one had not been alone. It and its pack had fallen upon them hard and fast, tearing through their ranks in a bestial frenzy. They’d taken down most of the horses, thus crippling their mobility. From there, the encounter had been desperate and brutal. In the end, only one remained, and it still overwhelmed them.
The troll spread its jaw wide, drool dripping freely from its jowls as it moved to bring Roslyn’s head into its maw. Though, she didn’t so much as scream. Her face was set in a stony expression of grim resolve, squirming and fighting against its grip every step of the way.
Claudia pursed her lips, letting out a shrill whistle. The aberrant snapped its head towards her, its red eyes glinting as it met her gaze. She held the sword forward, its tip pointing down. Alber—The fool’s guard.
“Try me,” she said.
The troll let Roslyn fall from its hands with a casual, almost dismissive flick of its wrists, before shuffling forward, approaching Claudia carefully. Each foot landed with a heavy thud as it held out its arms, dropping low as it continued forward, faster now, until abruptly it barreled forward in a charge.
She wasted no time in her own reaction. Dashing forward, she brought herself right into its reach. Claudia rolled aside at the very last possible moment, just before its massive arms could bear down and crush her. She kept her momentum, allowing her feet to guide her as she raced around its flank, and sliced out into its side.
Yet, the sword failed to pierce through its thick skin. For all the good it did, she may as well have been trying to hack through a tree for all the good it did. What’s worse, the aberrant whirled around to move with her at a speed that belied its size, before dropping low and swinging an arm.
Even through her plate armor, the sheer force of the impact was more than enough to bowl her straight off her feet, sending her hurtling through the air. She slammed hard into the soil, and felt the air expel from her lungs as the wind was knocked out of her. She tried to draw a breath, but couldn’t.
For a moment, Claudia struggled to regain herself, wincing as she felt her ribs grind against one another. The pain was intense, but she shakily managed to bring herself to her feet, just in time to see the troll bearing down upon her once more, its mouth split into something that might have resembled a wide grin.
This time, she didn’t attempt to dodge. Nothing short of a full, decisive strike would be able to pierce through it. Claudia planted her feet firmly on the ground, and hefted the sword. Though, she found that it weighed far less than it had before.
Or, perhaps, the adrenaline coursing through her had dulled the feeling for such things. Claudia flexed her wrist, feeling the steel become almost as an extension of herself. She brought the sword above her head and assumed the high guard; Vom Dach. Through the haze of battle and death, her mind cleared, driving out everything that wasn’t utterly necessary.
Right. Just as her master had taught her...
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“You will die in Garan.”
I’m not sure why, but Lord Grave’s words came back to me all of a sudden. I’d been training with him that day, just before I’d left Geofu with the Hounds.
There had been no unkindness or cruelty in his voice, only a cold and straightforward statement of fact.
Our spar had barely taken ten seconds, in which he easily saw through my offensive. My swings were wild and my footwork sloppy, while his defense was calm. Effortless. I gave away my position when I could have stayed back and waited. His riposte, a simple twist of his wrist, batted the sword from my hands. And before I realized it, both his sword and my own were at my throat, just a motion away from scissoring cleanly through my neck.
“Your instincts are strong, but thoroughly reckless,” he had told me. “As I am certain Claudia has already informed you a multitude of times, master Eschenwald. You fight as though you were a brigand trying to steal bread.” Lord Grave shook his head as he lowered both swords, allowing me to breathe more comfortably. Then, he met my eyes, his gaze steely and unwavering. “Do you intend to dishonor your master with this mockery of her teachings?”
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“Never,” I snapped, before I could even think to stop myself. The moment the word left my lips, I realized just how childish I sounded. But it was too late to take it back.
Still, Lord Grave let out a breath and shook his head again. “If that’s the extent of your resolve, then you would do well to abandon your mission. Remain in Geofu. You will die in Garan.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. He wasn’t wrong. Not in the slightest. But still, I couldn’t just accept that.
“No,” I managed to get out.
Lord Grave raised an eyebrow. “No?”
“No, your lordship,” I said again, setting my jaw. “Someone told me that a lot of people—All the soldiers who came before us—Have all been waiting for this. The end of the war. We’re the proof that they existed, so no matter what happens, I’m not gonna give up or run away from it. I’ve got to see this through.”
His eyes met mine, his expression thoroughly unreadable. For many long, almost endless moments, he said nothing.
“Then I suppose you shall, master Eschenwald,” he said, finally breaking the silence. He twirled my training sword in his hand, then offered it to me grip-first. “I spoke only the truth; as you stand now, you will die in Garan. But if nothing else, perhaps I might impart the value of patience and caution unto you.”
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I breathed in. I breathed out. And when my eyes focused on the world around me, I saw a horrifying sky, red like blood.
...Why was I even thinking about any of that at a time like this, anyway? Hah… Was my own mind trying to mock me for getting into a mess like this all over again?
Whatever.
I could still hear the screams, the hoofbeats, the rumbling of the earth all around me. The battle still raged on. And as I pushed myself back onto my feet, the reality of the situation caught back up with me, and I realized that I was still in the thick of battle.
I had no idea just how long I’d been out of it, but the golem had already managed to wipe out a huge portion of those around it. The loose circle we’d formed around it was broken, with several bloodied corpses strewn about, and the Hounds that remained were desperately trying to fight back. But still, it was obvious that they’d given a good account of themselves, from the numerous gashes carved onto its stony carapace, and the numerous dents throughout its body. It was even missing its right arm from the elbow-down.
And yet, despite all it had already withstood, the golem’s brutal assault continued.
This wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. We needed to end this, and soon.
I began moving forward, and nearly stumbled as my body reminded me of the earlier pain I’d felt, and I spared a brief glance at myself. Though every part of me was hurting something fierce, nothing felt quite broken. I guess that my horse must have taken the brunt of the impact, or else I probably would’ve turned into a fine mist by now. Though I still had my sword and shield with me, my helmet must have gotten knocked off at some point.
The man the golem had thrown at me had much less luck, I noticed with a grimace. Both he and my horse had crumpled not too far away from me, his body so thoroughly smashed that I could hardly even tell he’d once been a person.
I brought in a shuddering breath, trying to force myself to ignore the pain and the comrade I’d failed to save. If nothing else, I could still move for now. I could still fight on.
My limp slowly steadied into a somewhat even gait as I drew closer and closer to the fray. Then, all the breath I had escaped me with a gasp, as an arm wrapped itself around my stomach, yanking me right off the ground.
“I’ve got you, Red.”
With those words, I found myself looking up at Edwin’s bruised and bloodied face. He held me under an arm, somehow managing to balance his weight and my own as he clutched onto his horses’ reins with the other. His lips were spread into a grin, but his eyes betrayed his concern.
“With how fast it can move, horses are no good here,” he began. “Still, they’re a damn sight better than just footslogging all the way into the thick of it. Please tell me you’ve got a plan other than ‘run in and hit it.’”
If I could have brought myself to smile, I would have. All I could do was shake my head in response. “I was thinking more along the lines of ‘run in and hit it really hard,'” I said, as I glared ahead at the golem.
Edwin grimaced, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, good. That’s a fine way to an early grave!” Even as he said that, he had his horse skirt us around the golem’s flank, keeping us behind it. Finally, it skidded to a stop, and Edwin let me down onto my feet. “Listen up, Ansel. You’re ain’t gonna be any good to anybody if you wind up getting yourself killed, man. We’ve already bought everyone else plenty of time, but we still have to take the big bastard down if we’re gonna make it stick.”
“I know that,” I replied, my voice sounding much more confident than I really felt.
He nodded back. “Good. ‘Cause I don’t think I gotta tell you just how fucked everyone’ll be if we screw up here.” He then sheathed his axe on a strap along the saddle, heaving his morning star over his shoulder. “I really hate fighting shit like this, you know? You can’t rely on good old-fashioned head-on smash-’em-up violence—It’s gotta be all clever tricks and traps and ambushes. So, we’re gonna have to count on you for this, Red. You already came up with something that worked before, so use your damn head and do it again.”
“Then… What’ll you do?”
Edwin glanced at the golem and licked his lips in what I assumed was a nervous tic. Then, he turned back to me with a wide, toothy grin. “I’m gonna run in and hit it really, really, hard. So, just make sure to kill it before it kills me, yeah?”
Without waiting for my response, he dug his heels into his horse, and raced straight for the golem. A shudder rose up my spine as I watched him join the rest of the Hounds facing down the golem, and I realized just how useless I was there.
For starters, what could I even hope to do against an enemy like that? With how sturdy it was, there was just no way I could strike it down with a sword. Even if I gave it my all, I doubted I could do much more than annoy it at best.
...No. I needed to rely on my mind. On my training, not on my instincts. There had to be something I could do besides plowing on and attacking it head-on, as Edwin said.
And most importantly of all, I had to help my comrades.
Again, my feet began carrying me forward, gaining more and more speed with every step.
“That’s right…”
Just as my master had taught me—There’s no such thing as an invincible defense. Everything has a weakness. Everything has a flaw—Find it.
Find it. Find it.
My eyes searched the golem for any sort of opening, any hint of a vulnerability that could give way under pressure.
Find it. Find it.
Even if it was something small, that was still something I could use to tear through its armor.
Find it. Find it!
...Armor.
Even as the thought crossed my mind, I immediately remembered what Keane had said before; This thing was a construct made with the strongest magic he’d seen. But what about the material it was made out of? Even if it was bursting with a power I couldn’t begin to wrap my head around, it at least had to follow some semblance of logic.
Meaning, that if its entire body was hard like stone, there was no way it would be able to move so nimbly. Yeah, if anything, it had to work in a way similar to how plate armor did—the sections at the joints must be unarmored in order to allow for a full range of motion.
So, the armpits, inner elbows, groin, and hamstrings… Those were the weak points in its defense which I needed to aim for. And given the arm that it was missing, someone must have figured that out already, or gotten in a lucky shot.
But, hell, that was a lot easier said than done. And even then, just because they were “softer” than the more armored parts, it didn’t necessarily mean that the weak points were something I could just cut through with a sword.
Either way, there was no time to waste. The golem had already struck down several of the Hounds, and the only one I could still see was Edwin, who was just barely holding his own against it.
I needed to act, or else there would be no one left.
So I acted.
Throwing caution to the wind altogether, I broke into a full-on sprint, faster and faster, even as my lungs burned from the exertion. It already had its back to me, and so it didn’t notice my presence as I came closer and closer to it with every stride.
I would only get one chance at this.
The sword felt incredibly light in my hands, almost as if it were carrying itself, and the back of the golem’s left knee were right where I needed them to be, all along. I brought the sword over my shoulder, and swung with everything I had.
And the blade dug right into its hamstring with a terrible, almost deafening screech. Though I felt resistance from it, the black stone chipped and cracked around the area I’d sliced at, until finally, the entire limb gave way, and my sword shattered.
For a moment, the golem buckled forward, sagged, and then collapsed under its own weight, smashing onto the hard ground, and sending up a large cloud of dust and dirt as it did so. My momentum carried me forward, and I rolled several times before finally coming to a stop, landing on my rear.
I felt a grin start to tug at my lips, only to disappear just as quickly as I saw the golem struggle up with its remaining arm and leg. With the gamage I’d dealt to its leg, it could only bring itself up on its knee, while the other struggled to keep its weight, but even with that, it wasn’t defeated yet by any means.
Its arm lashed out towards me, and I barely had enough time to roll out of the way, before its fist crashed into the spot I’d just been in. I backed up even further as it used its hand to drag itself forward with alarming speed, its remaining limbs glowing an almost blinding white. With my sword broken, I had no way to fight back.
I almost didn’t even notice Edwin at first, when he emerged from around its flank, his morning star hefted high above him. He brought it down with incredible force, right onto its chest. The golem’s side cracked with the blow, and its glow dimmed. But even that wasn’t enough to end it outright.
“Edd!” I shouted. “Get out of there!”
If he heard me, he gave no indication. Or maybe he just chose to ignore me, as he let out a wordless shout of his own, and wound up to strike again.
My heart fell when, without even shifting in his direction, the golem struck out and caught him in the side. A loud, wet crack filled my ears as his body was flung through the air and landed in a heap not too far from me.
He didn’t get up.
“Edwin…!”
The golem began moving towards me again, even with half its body shattered. It moved slowly, but it was moving all the same. And from the corner of my eye, I saw Edwin’s morning star, which landed just at my feet.
It felt completely foreign to my hands, its shaft too long, its weight uneven, completely unlike a sword or lance. But I didn’t have any better options.
I breathed in. I breathed out.
I spread my legs out in a wide crouch, left foot forward, right foot back, leaning my torso down. And having no idea if what I was doing was anywhere near remotely correct, I brought the weapon up before, and entered Pflug, the plow guard.
As the golem bore down on me, I caught sight of the long, chipped fissure running down the length of its chest, right where Edwin had struck it before.
If I missed, I’d die. If I misjudged its strike, I’d die. If I hesitated for even the slightest moment, I’d die.
Hah... Lord Grave was right—Every single thing I did was impulsive and reckless.
But even as poor of a student as I was, his and Lady Claudia’s lessons had still taught me to temper those instincts. And if there was even just one thing I wouldn’t make a botchery of, it would have to be this.
I wasn’t going to die in Garan.
The golem lunged forward, its strike coming so fast I couldn’t even see it any more. I stepped forward with my left foot and pivoted, the fist coming so close I almost felt it caress some of my hair. Still, the impact was more than enough to crack the ground below me, and I was launched into the air, swinging the mace in an upwards arc as I did so.
Its spiked head connected solidly against the golem’s chest, right into that fissure, and thoroughly shattered what remained of it. The crack spread further, up and down across its entire body, and its light rose to a blinding intensity that made me shut my eyes on reflexes.
Somewhere amidst the blinding light and the sound of crumbling stone, I crashed back-first onto the ground. My ears rang, my body ached, and I was gasping for breath. All I wanted then, more than ever, was to keep lying there and close my eyes.
Then I remembered Edwin.
I don’t know where I found the strength, but wrenched myself upwards and forced my legs to carry me over to him. I slid to my knees beside him, desperately turning him over, and saw that, amazingly, he was still breathing. Still conscious, even. And as he saw me, he managed the faintest of smiles.
“Got… Got ‘em?” he asked, his voice faint and thready.
“Yeah, man,” I said, gently patting his shoulder. “We got him.”
“Fuck yeah,” he said, finally letting his eyes close and his head sag back. “Shame… Shame, though… Damn shame… Ain’t gonna be ‘round for no victory feast…”
I shook my head. “You will. We’re going back home, and you’ll be eating enough food to feed ten whole armies. Come on!” And with that, I slung my arm over his shoulder, and began hauling him onto his feet. But given his size and sheer corpulence, it was like trying to pull a mountain.
He groaned and tried to tug his arm away. “Forget it. You… not taking me anywhere… Just go on, go.”
“Hell no!” I just barely realized that I was shouting now through clenched teeth, and just as quickly realized that I didn’t really care. “We’re not giving up! The others are all already in the Citadel! Keane’s there! I’ll drag you all the way over to him if I need to, just—”
My head rocked to the side, my mouth filling with the taste of blood. As I crumpled to the ground, spitting out the tooth that had just gotten knocked loose, I realized he’d just punched me.
“Gods, fuck me,” Edwin said, “you really are that dumb, aren’t ya…? I’m done, Ansel. I’m fucked… No gettin’ outta here. But you… You gotta job. You gotta…” He sagged against a rock, and his hand weakly rose to point towards the Black Citadel. “You said you’ve got oaths and folks waiting for you back home, and shit. So fulfill the fucking oaths, sir knight. Do your duty.”
“Edd—!” Before I could say anything further, he seized up and threw his head back. A dark, frothy fluid spilled from his lips with a quiet gasp, his eyes widening in evident panic. But then they drooped, staring blankly off into the distance.
And then, they saw nothing at all.
My lips parted, but I was stunned into a silence that felt like it would last forever. And though all I could was stare at his unmoving face, my vision blurred so badly that I couldn’t even see him anymore.
“Edwin…” I couldn’t think of the right words. There were none. What could I even say? What could I possibly even do?
I wanted to reach out and close his eyes, at least, but I couldn’t manage even that. I just knelt in silence, my hands clenched into fists.
But then, almost as if I was hearing a faraway whisper, I remembered—There was something I could do, wasn’t there?
I moved so quickly it was almost frightening, my hands darting into the hollow between my chestplate and the gambeson underneath it. My fingers found purchase around the small pouch within, and then yanked it out in one motion.
I dug out its contents, and stared at the tiny vial.
My blessing to you. Something to give you fortitude and comfort on the difficult road ahead of you.
Even in the dark gloom of Garan, Her Holiness’ divine blessing glowed with a soft light, its warmth spreading through my fingers, up my arm, and into my entire body.
I didn’t know the specifics, beyond what I’d heard in passing. The goddess’ miracle was a panacea—It could strengthen one’s body, heal its wounds, and perfectly revitalize the soul. All that, just from one drop of the vial’s contents.
It could even bring the dead back to life, couldn’t it? If that was true, then I could still save Edwin.
...But, why was I bringing the vial up to my own lips...?
My hands stopped completely the moment I realized what I was doing.
My mouth was open, and I could feel a thin strand of drool dangling from my bottom lip. My lungs desperately fought against my chest to draw air, and my heart felt like it was trying to fight its way out of my chest.
I remembered the sweet taste of the goddess’ blessing. I remembered the incredible feeling of warmth and energy running through me.
I wanted it. I wanted to feel all that and more, at least just one more time.
My thoughts were hazy, my vision blurry. And before I could even think, some part of me forced my hand down and away, and instead pushed the vial into Edwin’s mouth.
I screamed, wordless and incoherent, as I jerked the vial back, but by then, only a few drops were left in it. But still, something stubborn and desperate inside me kept my hand away from my mouth, and forced my eyes to focus on Edwin.
His eyes fluttered for a moment, then closed. His pale face regained color. His chest rose gently, up and down, as he took small, shallow breaths.
I didn’t need to fight myself anymore. I simply recorked the vial, and shoved it back inside its pouch.
“There,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure if it was to him, or to myself. “There you go. Just… just get some rest now, alright? We’ll come get you when it’s all over.”
As I stood, I worked Keane’s ring off my finger, and pressed it into his hand. He didn’t have one of his own in the first place, so if I just left him there on his own, the drain would finish him off.
I’d definitely have a hell of a time trying to get to the Black Citadel without. But it was a straight shot from here to there, at least, and I was already close enough that I could run my way there.
“Hang on to this for me, Edd,” I told him.
----------------------------------------
I was shivering, sweating, and out of breath by the time I came to a stop at the Citadel’s gate. Its black stone surface loomed over me like an oppressive shadow, blotting out the sky, and the sun behind it only served to illuminate it with a deeper, darker red.
Putting one foot in front of the other, I slowly trudged forward, keeping my eyes forward. I’d never been afraid of the dark, but… This was different. The shadows seemed to seep from the stones themselves, clinging to me as I walked through the bailey.
Already, the ground before me was littered with corpses, human and aberrant alike, leaving a wake of death as evidence that, at the very least, the spearhead’s attack on the golem had worked. And I could still hear the faint clashes and cries of combat in the distance, though I didn’t see any of those fighting.
It seemed I’d arrived just in time for the climax of the battle, and to be frank, that worried me. I’d lost way too many comrades already.
Still, my path led me forward, towards the inner fortress itself, the fierce sounds growing ever louder as I approached. I saw the gigantic doors of the gateway, and beyond them, a large hall with rows upon rows of columns holding up the roof.
I walked through the winding halls, through the bloodstained floors, and on and on and on, deeper into the heart of the fortress.
And even when the path of corpses ended, I kept moving forward.
I could feel it now, almost like a lodestone pulling me in towards it. No, not just that. Pulling everything towards it. Whatever was ahead of me was beyond anything I could have ever imagined. It was almost like the world itself was warping and decaying away from the exposure alone.
Until finally, I stood before a set of glinting doors, cast from some dull gold metal of some kind. Despite the sheer impossibility of it, I knew who I’d find through there.
It was a very strange sensation—I didn’t feel scared in the slightest any more.
No, if anything, what I felt now was a sense of clarity, almost. Like no matter how it all played out, I could accept whatever was about to happen.
My heart burned with determination.
With one last deep breath, I steeled myself and stepped forward to face the last of the Dark Elves. The author of this monstrous, centuries-long war;
Olga Discordia. Mankind’s enemy.