Edmund started to hear explosions coming from the frontline. Looking toward the other entrance, he saw the radio operator.
‘Maybe not today.’ Edmund grinned.
He dropped his sword and ran toward the walking guardian on his path toward the fallen duchess, who was unconscious on the ground. Only one punch was necessary for her to be put out of commission; that would have killed him, he thought as he approached at a fast speed.
The guardian looked at Edmund and swung his sword with his left hand, trying to strike him. Still, Edmund noticed he was slower than before, so Edmund passed the blade and blocked its hand, but instead of going for a punch, he grabbed the guardian’s wrist with one hand and, at the same time, with his other hand grabbed down the elbow.
He pulled the guardian's body down and bent its elbow simultaneously, using speed and strength, making the sword right next to its neck. Giving it no time for the guardian to react, Edmund pulled the guardian’s head toward himself, at the same time pulling away the hand that held the sword, slitting its throat, almost severing its head.
The white-haired young man, while still holding the guardian’s hand, kicked it in the gut; to Edmund’s surprise, it worked and appeared that it felt; now his other hand was holding the back of the guardian's elbow while it was on its knees looking at the floor. Without hesitation, Edmund put all his strength into articulating the guardian’s elbow while holding the hand, still holding the sword, breaking it, and making it drop onto the ground.
Edmund gave no time for the guardian to recover and grabbed its leg, spun, and threw it on the wall, making a hole as its body pierced right through it and ended up on the building to the side. He looked at Sorth for a moment and shouted.
‘Take care of Ariadne; I will keep that thing occupied.’ He turned to the other entrance. ‘And you there, she needs protection, call for support.’ Edmund turned back to face the hole in the wall before jumping through it.
As the radio operator approached, Sorth and the cameraman ran toward Ariadne, who was lying on the ground. Sorth turned the duchess's body, and she had a bruise on her cheek. It looked like she was in a deep sleep. They couldn't lift the sword, but the three could turn her around by moving her arm.
‘Command, Her Highness is unconscious, and Edmund is fighting against the guardian. Over.’ His tone was more agitated.
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‘What did you say?’ Alon’s voice came through the radio.
‘Yes, sir. She is on the ground and holding what I think is the hero’s sword. Edmund is now holding the guardian back. Over.’ His tone is now calmer.
He looked to the side and saw the one holding the contraption on his shoulder, trying to drag Edmund’s sword closer with incredible difficulty.
‘Stay in position and wait until she wakes up. We can’t move Eliza, and the medics can’t do much, command out.’ Alon’s voice had a firm tone.
‘So?’ Sorth looked at the radio operator.
‘We just wait until she wakes up.’ He looked at Ariadne’s serene expression.
‘Her Highness will need to carry this when she wakes up.’ The cameraman raised his voice as he gave up trying to drag the sword.
‘You need to go after Edmund, Luther, and record. That is why we are here.’ She pointed at the camera on the floor.
‘You are right, I’m going.’ Luther grabs his camera before running out of the building.
‘You people are crazy.’ The radio operator shook his head.
Sorth smiled and looked at Luther’s back as he descended the stairs and disappeared entirely out of her sight. At the same time, Luther, now on the outside, could hear the distinct sound of the battle between Edmund and the guardian coming from the left and started to run towards it, always looking around just in case something popped out of nowhere.
On the frontlines, Dou was right next to the action, but instead of recording, he was dragging a soldier’s body with a spike made of ice stuck on its right chest. He was already dead, but they needed to clear the path, and as he lay the body next to the others, he heard Bartel speak to the squad leaders and two other soldiers around him.
‘We are going to take that plaza surrounded by buildings on the left; from there, Ego’s squad is going further left. Help 2-6 while we hold here.’ Bartel cleaned his forehead with the back of his arm.
‘And what about us, sir?" One soldier spoke.
‘We hold there, we can’t advance anymore, too many loses.’ Gave him a nod.
‘Now we wait for the final sacrifice, soldier.’ Egor patted the soldier on the shoulder.
‘The signal will be the next batch of mortars; I already requested in advance, so let’s make this happen.’ Bartel saluted them.
‘Yes, sir.’ All of them saluted back.
Dou grabbed his camera before following Egor. As he returned to his squad, he saw other wounded soldiers being put in the back of a truck while it returned fire and provided cover, giving the soldiers some rest. They were now calling the enemy demons, as it became widely spread that they looked like the soldiers of the demon lord. Even the larger ones with massive cannons on their backs started to pop up again; they are being called demon trolls or “DT” for short.
Ethan saw the two of them run in his direction, passing through the magic flying past them. He was in charge of the squad while Egor was gone; Kurt was right behind him, and he was the only one besides himself who wasn’t a random soldier from all over the frontline. All of his teammates were wounded and got shipped back to the hospital but never came back, so he doesn’t know if they are dead or simply in another platoon.
‘Get ready. We are going to advance to that plaza right there right after the mortars drop.’ Egor Shoulted.
As the rounds dropped and the explosions killed many demons on the square, some exploded on the buildings, making others fall to the ground and turn into dust in midair. One demon troll received a direct hit, making it explode.
‘Let’s GO!!! Charge!!!’ Egor shouted.