Battle for Errstile
“We don’t have the time! Everyone, we can talk once this is over, for now, we need to find my father!”
Anastasia’s voice cut through the sounds of battle and the Greatwood Squadron’s mounting questions. Everyone looked at her, then back out at the battlefield and were left with no choice but to agree.
“That Presence was here at the start of the battle, but I haven’t felt it since.” Arasaka said.
“Is that what that was..?” Aerie asked, her voice barely audible.
“We’ll need to push out through the battlefield then, my father is likely injured behind enemy lines. Is anyone among you a healer?”
‘Volunteer yourself, Amar. I will guide your hands should need be.’
Selerys’ voice echoed through her consciousness, distracting Amar for a second, forcing Anastasia to half turn away in disappointment.
“I can heal, if it comes down to it.”
“Oh, who are you?” Anastasia responded, turning back around.
“I’m Amar Haldir, Greatwood Squadron Private.”
“Well then, all of you, form up around Amar. If she falls before our goal, this will all be without reason.” The First Daughter commanded.
“Sorry, she’s a bit… well, bossy, obviously.” Logan supplied the group.
The Greatwood Squadron was slow to comply, but they eventually did group up, slowly following Anastasia’s directives even though they hardly knew her. With that, they were ready to step back out into the fray, and just in time too. As Amar quickly scanned the battlefield, she could tell the Legion had begun to lose more and more ground. Soon, they would be fighting with their backs to their tents at this rate.
Pushing to draw level with their Legion counterparts, the Greatwood Squadron soon resumed their conflict with the Harthians. A steady trickle of the enemy soldiers were leaking through the front lines to beleaguer the Legion’s flanks, but they quickly managed to put down any that bothered their Squadron.
Then they were back to the frontlines, fighting shoulder to shoulder with the other Squadrons who remained, in a desperate hold against the Harthian host. Everything was going to plan when suddenly a massive explosion sounded off above them. What felt like everyone on the battlefield turned their eyes up, to the rapidly unfolding spectacle in the sky.
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While Logan’s jaw was on the ground, up in the sky Major Frear engaged in a serious battle. The tell tale glow of her Soul Sword was the only way Logan could tell it was the woman he often gave massages to back at Marineford. Now, watching her fight seriously for the first time, Logan understood why she had gone a step further in mentoring him.
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Major Frear’s opponent hung suspended in the sky, some form of Divinity allowing him freedom from gravity, as he continually cast large balls of fire that were the source of the earlier noise. Explosion after explosion rang out, but none of them hit Logan’s former Captain. How could they, as she kept zipping around, her form quickly alternating between human and living electricity.
“B-Tier…”, Anastasia said at the front of the group.
Her energy form was fast enough that Logan could barely even process it, Logan only recognizing it wasn’t teleportation through his Soul Sight, reading the fluctuations of Major Frear’s tempo. As she kept at it, her opponent gradually grew angrier, his frustrations made evident by his incessant screaming.
Then, after another 15 seconds or so, it appeared the Harthian had enough, and he unleashed a fiery cyclone, promising death by inferno. Literally.
“I PROMISE YOU WILL DIE TO INFERNO!” the Harthian B-tier shouted.
Whether his name was inferno, or that of the spell was left unclear, but the deadly threat was not. A massive funnel of fire headed towards Major Frear, but she ducked out of it just the same, appearing next to the enemy B-Tier and slashing his neck.
The force of the blow blasted him away, and with a cheer going out from the Legion side, the spell over the battlefield had ended. Logan looked down to three separate groups of Harthian soldiers trying to push them back. Digging in his heels, Logan met the oncoming battle with resolve to do his mentor proud.
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Teleporting to dodge a swing, Logan speared his attacker with his own Soul Sword. As the man fell to the ground, Logan tried not to think about all the people he had killed today. If he started to, then he wouldn’t be able to deal with the next guy, who was already wildly thrusting at Logan.
He actually dodged this time, his back flaring in pain but as a result Logan didn’t pick up any more injuries. Then Remy jumped up onto the Harthian, and let out another ear piercing Void Screech. That bought time to look around at the progress the Squad had made.
They had managed to continue to push into enemy territory, forcefully wading out into the throng of Harthian’s with abandon. The Legion had pushed back after Major Frear’s showing, but the Greatwood Squadron was still beyond all their comrades, now alone in their endeavor.
Still, they had to keep pressing on. Ducking back into the fight, Logan assisted Jerry with an assailant that had gotten too close, despite the broken bottles of acid decorating his path. However miraculous the man’s escapade may have been, it ended the moment Logan teleported behind him, impaling his enemy with the Soul Sword.
“Thanks for the assist!” Jerry shouted over the ruckus.
“No problem!” Logan shouted back, already teleporting to help somewhere else.
Logan knew his role was as their group’s flex, his teleportation letting him fill in gaps instantly, and prevent his teammates from getting overwhelmed. This complemented the already diverse power sets of the Squadron, and strengthened their flexibility tremendously, buying time for the appropriate people to respond to threats.
However such a role required a lot from Logan, and although he was happy to work hard to protect everyone, the wounds on his back were agony as he forced himself to keep moving, to keep fighting onwards. Now wasn’t the time for half measures or complaints.
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Slowly the group kept on fighting, their endurance being put to the test. Eventually, even Larry’s thirst for battle started to wane, but by that time they were fighting the dregs of the Harthian horde.
Somehow, they had pushed through the majority of the enemy force without losing anyone, and now the bulk of the Harthian’s were engaging the Legion behind them, unknowing or uncaring about the Greatwood Squadron’s location. Instead, the Squad was engaged now in waves, as groups would take notice and form to fight the intruders in their midst.
What was more troubling was the Presence that hung heavy over the field. It didn’t have any physical effect, but it felt like the pressure added a delay to Logan’s thinking, straining him in an unique way.
“It seems my father is close by. Our goal is almost upon us.”
However, it appeared they had made it to the command section for the forces of Harth. In front of them, was a group that wasn’t rushing to intercept them, instead fortifying their own formation, to place themselves between the Greatwood Squad and a hastily constructed tent. There were easily two dozen, all lined up into neat rows.
Or are they columns? Logan mused to himself.
-Hmmm?- Remy shot back.
Oh, just thinking to myself.
The Greatwood Squadron eyed down their newest challenge, taking the momentary respite to recover their breath. Behind them, the sounds of the battle were a cacophonous symphony for the baseline of explosions happening in the woods. Logan let out a deep sigh, and got ready for the next fight.
Just then, the Presence fell even harder onto their spirits, which the Harthian’s used as an attack cue. Somehow protected from the strange metaphysical pressure, the enemy soldiers advanced on the Squadron, maintaining their formation and caution despite the impediment on their opponents.
Rightfully so, as Larry didn’t seem to be as affected as Logan, roaring out a challenge as he barreled forwards into their lines. Arasaka was right there behind him, shielding Larry from the deluge of reactionary attacks made against the large man. Logan was left with no choice, but to teleport in after them.