Hard Truth
Gregor knocked another Harthian soldier to the ground. He stood outside of the Princess’s bunker, where he had been dealing with stray enemies for the entirety of the battle. It wasn’t the most exciting work, but it ensured the safety of her highness, so Gregor was honorbound to his station.
Still, when Gregor looked out towards the battlefield, he felt compelled to tread out there. Its siren song called to him in a way he was unfamiliar with, calling him to fight. He managed to tune it out, but it remained in the back of his mind as he kept scanning the battle’s progress.
Ever since Major Frear’s morale boosting encounter, the Legion had managed to begin pressing back the Harthian host. Now, the only enemies he encountered were stragglers left behind, almost bordering on cleanup, more than an actual fight. Still, Gregor retained some degree of caution. The Presence that had covered Fort Errstile to commence the battle had yet to make a reappearance, leaving Gregor on edge.
He couldn’t help but feel like the other shoe was about to drop, and he didn’t intend to let the Princess wind up underneath it. Therefore Gregor continued to be methodical about his guard job, eliminating any threats before they could even approach the bunker.
Still, a part of Gregor’s thoughts turned to his Squadron, and Amar. It had grated on him when he had been assigned a duty away from his subordinates, but now he just worried. He had done his best to train them for this very moment, and he had faith in their abilities, but the battlefield was a fickle place. All it took was a moment of luck for an enemy, and even the most skilled combatant could fall.
The only method to avoid that fate was to accumulate power, as showcased by the B-Tier fight earlier. Even then, there were many B-Tier fighters in the Ethonian Empire. You may end up stronger than ninety nine percent of people, but it seemed like you would always have an equal in this world.
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The Presence flowing over them restricted Logan’s teleportation, like a film protecting physical reality. Logan ripped his way through, forcing his head back out of the void and adjusting to his new location in the thick of things. Larry and Arasaka were holding the front, and Logan had positioned himself right behind them, looking to cover their crazed push.
Behind them, their allies rushed to catch up, and ahead of them… Well, ahead of them was a practiced unit advancing upon them in perfect formation. It was enough to give Logan some second doubts, but the time for hesitation was long past. Instead, he let loose a battle cry alongside Remy, the two of them using their Void Screech to burst the tight ranks of the enemy.
The effect was immediate, and overwhelming. The Void-touched sounds battered the first wave of Harthians to their knees and disturbed the momentum of the rest, buttering them up for Larry and Arasaka to charge right into them. Then, the fight was properly underway and it was all Logan could do to keep his head attached.
An errant slash demanded a parry, while another opponent's thrust would force Logan to dodge. He would respond with an attack of his own just to immediately receive a flurry of counterattacks. The dance seemed neverending, but Logan’s endurance wasn’t. He had been pushing his injured back hard for days now, and it was miraculous he had held up this long.
Logan could tell he was going to lose eventually, as he became slower and slower. Logan was forced to rely on teleporting to a much greater degree, confusing the Harthian soldiers to no end, but further increasing the strain on him mentally. Still, it was only a matter of time before Logan made a fatal error.
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And it appeared he had an opponent set on making it happen.
“Face me like a man, you flighty twig!” A Harthian soldier shouted at Logan.
Despite the man’s uninspiring insult, he was quite the skilled combatant, managing to fend Logan off even after he teleported into a blind spot. Recasting his Soul Sword, Logan answered his enemy's taunts.
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“I’m right here if you want some punk!” Logan shouted back at his adversary.
Somehow, the field had cleared out a bit, and now they circled each other, looking for a weakness to exploit, a momentary advantage to gain. Like vultures staring each other down over a corpse, except the corpse had yet to be made.
Suddenly, his opponent made a move. Ducking down to Logan’s left, the man dove into a deep swing for Logan’s neck. Forced to teleport, Logan turned it into a counter attack, as he swept out in his own return swing from the man’s back. However, the Harthian was too quick, hopping forwards out of the path of Logan’s Soul Sword.
On the fight went, each man a flurry of movement ending in the barbed point commonly referred to as a sword. Blades met over and over, Logan losing out in the clashes to the Harth man’s superior strength and speed.
Logan’s back ached at every contest, but he couldn’t back down. Or, rather, he could, and his enemy desperately wished for Logan's determination to waver, but Logan wouldn’t let this be the end.
Of course, no matter how hard he strained, Logan couldn’t back up his determination, as his body failed. Overextending on a swing, Logan fell to his knees as his back spasmed in pain. His enemy, not one to miss such an easy opportunity, dashed at Logan in order to capitalize on the opening.
Watching the sword descend towards his face, Logan waited for death. With neither the time to teleport, or parry the attack, Logan could do nothing but accept the inevitable attack. But thankfully, it never came.
At the last moment, a Bear Claw swept across Logan’s vision, and into the Harthian soldier’s side. Even though he was more skilled than Logan, the enemy wasn’t skilled enough to predict the bit of Divinity from his blind spot, and got flattened by it.
“Thanks… for that… Amar.” Logan said between gasping breaths.
“No problem.” She said, walking over to him.
That’s when Logan realized the field was empty, except for the Squadron.
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Around them, their opposition was on the ground. Somehow, the Greatwood Squadron had managed to take on a force easily twice their number, and win without a single casualty. Logan couldn’t help but let out a light chuckle.
“You idiot, we aren’t done yet.” Anastasia snapped at him.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just gotta take the victories when they happen, no matter how small.”
Then Logan noticed the sound of fighting was a lot heavier than it had been for a while. Looking behind, he immediately was greeted to the sight of the Legion fighting off the last of the Harthians. It looked like the rest of their comrades were pushing back the last of the horde, the combat almost done for the day.
Just as Logan was thinking that, the Presence that had been building in the background suddenly redoubled, and doubled again, forcing not just Logan but most of the Legionnaires that Logan could see down to the ground. A slow, whirring noise came from the direction of the enemy command tent, and Logan slowly forced his head to turn to it.
Arduously Logan kept at it, until he had a glimpse of the thing approaching them. It was a man in a floating chair. He was naked, except for restraints holding him to the chair, and a metal muzzle silenting his mouth. However, that wasn’t what drew Logan’s attention.
Instead, it was the mess he saw with his Soul Sight. The man’s soul was in fragments, shattered almost irreparably in a way that caused Logan to wince in sympathy. Then, in an act of absolute perversion, something was moving about the fragments, causing the resultant Presence that was crushing Logan and the rest of the Legion into the dirt.
“Father…” Logan heard from Anastasia next to him.
The realization was complete. The man that they had been trying so desperately to find, was before them. However, they were much too late, as whatever processes that had taken place had undoubtedly broken the man. Now, the Aegis of Grecia was little more than a weapon.