The meeting lasted for several hours. Augusto's captain wanted to attack the bandit camp but the riders' report of towers, palisade walls, would make such an endeavor a costly affair. With that plan, it may not even be possible to overtake the fort camp hybrid. With their west blocked by the river and the forest to the east,, the only possible solution is to break through the bandits stronghold. Whoever leads them, is smart for setting the camp in the forest and building fortification around the treees. Setting a fire would be stupid, since the caravan is too close to the forest and the river to possibly escape the blaze. This area is a natural choke point and the bandits hold the advantage. They could barrel through but too many lives and goods would be lost. The area is only about maybe 8 meters wide from the description that Rachel could convey.
Avidia's plan is to wait, set up the caravan's own fortification and send a strike force into the bandit camp. Once the strike force infiltrates, they will create havoc so the main force can attack from the front. If possible, secure the towers and eliminate all possible missile threats. This plan is also risky but any plans would be at this point. From the lieutenant of the riders' report, No. 13 and Julia estimated the number of bandits to be between 100 to 200. The advice they offered places the likely number being around 150 enemies, but cautions them to always take into account the higher estimate. There is a certain number of square meters where humans can live comfortablly and they use this estimate with the report of the possible size of the bandit camp.
No. 13 prefers Avidia's plan but he is not still happy with it. There is a lack of intelligence gathered. No. 13 hates acting on a plan that makes too many assumptions but they are in a bad predicament. To backtrack, it could take too much time, and Augusto has stated that he is not sure the supplies would last. That also carries the risk of other unknown dangers. In this land, danger can lurk anywhere, attested to the Guerrodos, the name given to the ape-like bat creatures and the lizard men are called Boreas. There are even titans, man-like creatures that stand from Lucretia's description, stand tall like fortress towers which No. 13 could only guess perhaps around 10 meters tall. Some creatures even have the ability to use magic and some more able than the humans. Luckily though, their numbers are smaller according to Lucretia.
After the meeting, the strike force assembled. They worked to come up with hand gestures and easy verbal commands for the group to understand. Even for the simple things, the work was difficult in trying to convey meaning between two different languages. Lucretia and Rachel were there to help and to No. 13's surprise, Brittany was there, though she was aloof. Avidia, No. 13, Julia, and twenty others from the guards, also had to do some training to coordinate their movement and they did a little scouting in the forest to the west to simulate possible circumstances. They also checked the thickness of the layers of leaves, went through the report to see what supplies is needed, and they plan on resting in the evening and heading out in the dead of night.
Chase looks perturbed, his face scowling when he asks Julia. "Why... am I not part of the strike force?"
Julia sighs. "You're not trained well enough with a weapon and we will not allow you to use a gun. You know that. It will be dangerous for you. Plus, even if we needed a gun, you have already given your's to your cousin."
Chase urges her, worry in his tone with some frustration. "Let me borrow your's then. Something could go wrong, your life could be in danger!"
Julia replies cooly. "You don't have the necessary tools. I will not hand you my gun and I doubt Devin here, will lend you his. Even if you had one, I would still say no. Until you possess the necessary tools, you are limited in what you can do."
No. 13 cuts in, stopping Chase from arguing any further. He looks at the young man, his face neutral and peers into his eyes. "You are not skilled enough to help the strike team hold a line nor attack with them in cordination. You have skills, but none is needed or necessary. In comparison to Avidia, Julia and myself, you lack individual combat power. Putting you in will threaten the lives of the strike force and yourself without you adding much help. At least Avidia has her magic, those men could be stronger as a unit. I am the boss correct. That means, you stay back and train until you are ready to contribute towards the group. As a commander, it would be poor of me to send in someone that lacks the necessary tools."
Chase looks angry but his eyes canot meet the others No. 13 notices. Likely, he knows the truth. If he were competant in archery, then No. 13 wouldn't mind. He can at least snipe at targets. Eventually, he just sighs and sits, not saying a word. He still looks angry and frustrated but he is sensible enough at times. NO. 13 believes he understands Chase's frustration.
Glancing over at Julia, even beneath that expressionless exterior, he knows she is releived. Chase is not yet ready for something like this and he would be a distraction for her. There are different ways in how people may trust someone. She can probably rely on Chase to have her back, stand up for her, and even perhaps sacrifice his life for her own, though she wouldn't probably want that outcome herself. She cannot trust him to stay safe enough and trust he will keep his comrades guarded at this time. It has nothing to do with his integrity, only his capability for this current problem. No. 13 knows Chase would only be a hindrance for her, perhaps even endangering her life. What he needs is a sharp and clear-minded Julia. By subtracting Chase out of this equation, his chances for success rises significantly.
In the afternoon, the scouting and coordination training went poorly at first. It didn't come as a surprise. Just one afternoon and partial evening wouldn't make up for it either. No. 13 can only hope that the bandits are not organized as they appear to be, which makes him question whether they are here on purpose or is it merely a coincidence. The longer he thinks about the whole thing, the more peculiar it becomes. Everyone has their secrets and he suspects the nature of this caravan might have something to do with this particular circumstance that they find themselves in. If he guesses correctly, there is a rat within Augusto's inner circle. He hates to get involved, but he has already partially picked a side just by association and his willingness to help save the lives of the children. Hell, even if it were Augusto that was the one threatening the children, he would oppose the man he believes. At least, he would hope so.
Not wanting to dwell on this issue, he meets with Avidia to go over the plans and create that list of supplies. Rachel is along and Julia has given him a list of what she may need. His two employees are spending some time together and he gives them that much. Unfortunately, that means bringing Brittany along and her sour attitude annoys him but he does his best to ignore her.
"Okay, Julia needs forty shafts of arrows, some oil, and strips of cloth. You need a rope, one preferably made of things like silk, a brace of throwing knives, six at the very least, is that all?" Rachel asks.
"That is it for now."
"Alright then, let me give the list to Lucretia. By the way, Augusto says, depending on how well you do tonight, he will give you a certain cut. The more of his men's lives that are spared, the better the group will be rewarded."
No. 13 nods his head. It is not a surprise that Augusto wouldn't mind looting the camp. No. 13 suspects that if goods are taken from bandits, it belongs directly to the new owner but isn't too sure in that regard. Anyways, the things there are likely stolen and the odds of even returning anything to the rightful owners would be a tall task, one he is not committed to even bother with. Besides, he really wants a magic sword like the one he was offered. That requires something to trade. If he really wants to increase his strength without having to seek others, magic weapons is the quickest way towards that goal. If Julia could get her hands on a magic bow, he bets she would be such a devastating force on her own. And, it might Make Chase useful in a fight.
The meals were delivered to the carriage this evening. The hunters had time to fish due to the long delay. No. 13 and Julia took a nap after their meal. Chase kept watch, having nothing to do really and there is no training session tonight with all the preparation for the nightly assault. Everyone figured that the bandits know that they are here. Guards are on duty,, ready for any surprise assault. It wouldn't come as a surprise if the bandits launches their own ambush teams and then disappear into the trees. Most people had to stay within the carriages and wagons, especially the children.
No. 13's eyes opens, the full bright moon overhead casts its bright illuminating light on the land. Starlight travels untold millions of years to make it in this point in time. Everything is so ethereal. The way the silverish light interacts with the slight mist around the river, how things just seem to glow, the moonlight casting its own magic on the white flowers and other light-colored objects. Even the silverish-blue grass turns a bit lavender.
No. 13 feels a sense of wonder, something he quite never felt before on Earth. Perhaps it may of been the drugs but No. 13 doubts that anything like this on Earth could give him such a feeling of mystery. Earth just lacks any sort of visual stimulus like this but he guesses it can be simulated. Still, being around it oneself, it can overwhelm some with its awe.
No. 13 and Julia arose when Avidia stopped by, their signal to prepare themselves. While Avidia was there, she helped Julia with placing on the dark leather armor. No. 13 placed on his own clothing, dark clothes that was given to him for this night. He doubts the ones that donated them will want them back after this raid. Killing people with swords is a messy affair. Chase woke up during their preparation and told Julia he would be waiting for her. Rachel and Brittany kept sleeping, seemingly dead to the world.
All the guards are awake, one hundred men were selected for the main attack force and about 50 guards with armed servants are staying behind to guard the rest of the Andares clan. Everyone part of this only had a short amount of sleep, several hours at best so they did many things to help themselves to wake up. No. 13 even seen a man ask another to slap him. For No. 13 and Julia, the rest was enough. Rations were even passed out and people ate a little to help them gain enough energy for the upcoming battle. After this, it is only suppose to be a day or two before they reach the border of the country of Ariminium, Agusto's home country.
When the strike force assembled itself, Avidia lead them through the trees. They moved methodically, disturbing the land around them as little as possible. The main force will only commence the attack once they witness any havoc among the bandit camp. They will be there before the strike team and stay clear enough but draw the bandit's attention to help the strike force attack from the rear. Lucia and Lucretia's powers will be used to blow the gate in one fell swoop, and according to Avidia, that will drain to near empty, making them useless for the rest of the fight. If more magic is needed, they still have the magical orbs to rely on.
While enough moonlight pierced through the thick canopy of leaves, it was still difficult to navigate. Julia took the lead with Avidia, her eyesight the best in the entire group. Everyone had to make sure their footsteps were true before they could plant their feet firmly and then repeat the process with the other. The dark was not the only thing that worried the group, traps may be an issue. Judging from the description of the bandit camp, it seemed like they had plenty of time to build fortification and the group assumed they also had time to build traps. From the intelligence given to them, this path was clear last year. This fact only further adds to his growing suspicion of a rat in one of the parties that know of the reason for this trip. Perhaps, all the parties involved has a traitor or many on hand. Not only is No. 13 cautious of the dark, but he also keeps his senses on the strike force.
Avidia stops the group, No. 13 moves towards the front, standing by Avidia and Julia. It was Julia that points out the reason for their stop. She found several traps, several well-hidden pitholes were dugged in this region. Also, about 100 meters away, they noticed some patrolmen so they have likely reached the edge of the bandit camp. Avidia gives the wait hand gesture. No. 13 could only guess they are observing for now.
About an hour later, they have spotted several bandits. It takes about 20 minutes for them to see a group. They know that they have a 20 minute window if they take out the first patrol. Their mission is not to sneak pass them, but eliminate as many of them as possible so they will not factor in when the battle starts. Having enemies at your back is a bad idea.
No. 13 and Julia took on the job of eliminating the patrols. With better conditions, without many trees in the way, it would be easier for Julia to simply snipe down the targets. Given the distance and the time needed to travel plus the unpredictability of human decisions, the pair thought it would be a better idea to get in closer. It would limit all the things that could go wrong like a patrolman stopping while a projected arrow whizzes by. If they are caught before they can infiltrate,, then the attack couldn't happen easily and more lives would be at stake. Even for No. 13 and Julia, to try and climb a fort wall, it will leave them vulnerable enough and that second of time is all that is needed to incapacitate them. Secrecy is their best weapon and they need to assure it at all cost.
Julia helped No. 13 navigate through the traps. Unlike Julia's training, his own had little to do with forested and other types of wild terrain. Most of his missions are in urban or suburban areas, far from the natural world. It seems, Julia's own tasks revolved around these types of scenarios and he wouldn't be surprised if she was talented in setting up traps of her own. There is only so much time and energy to specialize in certain fields of study. No. 13 would never even consider trying to specialize in this either. He has only enough time to maintain the other skills acquired but he wouldn't mind picking up some simple tricks here and there, especially a bit of archery. Not enough to be deadly like Julia, but enough to hunt and still take down targets about a hundred meters away. Learning about what is edible and useful from Avidia is something he needs to learn about this new world. Unlike his own, foraging for food will probably be more of a necessity. His to-do-list keeps growing at a daily rate and he laments the limited time he has.
Julia waits around a tree, about 30 meters from No. 13's own position. Their plan of attack is simple, each will dispatch a target. The patrols so far have moved in a team of two. For bandits, they are quite vigilant, and spend the necessary time actually scanning their surroundings. They remind No. 13 more like soldiers than actual bandits. And, this fact adds more to his suspicion than anything else.
It wasn't long before two more bandits made their appearance. When the illuminating silver light passes overhead, No. 13 can make out their general description. The two, have short trimmed beards, one appearing in his early forties and the other in his mid-thirties. Each carries a spear with a short sword as a side arm. They have on leather armor with metal plates covering their vital regions with a leather cap for any sort of head protection. They move with precision, each move efficient and orderly, like they spent years of their lives training.
Julia move was No. 13's signal to act. Through his enhanced hearing, he heard the whistling sound of an arrow slicing through the air. A second later, the sound of a man gurgling and No. 13 knows that the arrow has found its mark, not that he didn't beleive it would. No. 13 appears from a tree a second later and the sharp point of his sword went through the other's throat before he could even make a sound. Only the shock, fear, and confusion shows in the man's before the light of life fled them. The only thing that remains is a corpse at the end of his blade.
Waiting for a bit, No. 13 removes the sword after the man's heart has stopped pumping and the blood spills out from the back of the bandit's neck, staining the earth a sort of lavenderish crimson under the bright silvery moon. Wiping the blade clean, he signals with his other hand that they should advance. Julia nods and they leave it up to the strike team to clean the bodies. It is a march against tiem now and they have little as it is to do something that the others cannot do. No. 13, Julia, and Avidia are the head of this dangerous snake, the three of them more than just a match for the twenty that folow.
Six more fell dead, two by arrows from Julia and the rest stabbed through the neck by No. 13. It seems, they did put most of their forces where Augusto's force is making their show of strength. For now, the pair have regrouped with Avidia and the strike force. The next part is tricky, and could leave the group vulnerable. They need to climb up the wooden wall and hold long enough for the rest of their forces to make it over.
The wooden wall stands about 6 meters high, not an issue for No. 13 to leap up and catch the edge to climb up. Before he does, Julia will climb a tree and notify him if there are any hazards on the wooden top themselves. If No. 13 were in charge, he would order nails, glass, and other sharp objects to be glued or impaled into the wooden walls. Hopefully, these people are not as cautious as No. 13 is.
No. 13 sees Julia sitting on a tree, about 15 meters off the ground. Under her balancing feet, the rope No. 13 brought along hangs. The rope is meant to help her quickly get down and escape if necessary. She could actually fall from that height safely, but the tangled knots of roots underneath would make it a hazardous landing. The saying it is better to be safe than sorry comes to No. 13's mind and the organization preaches safety over recklessness, not out of some sense of caring or duty, but because they are highly expensive equipment.
Julia on one hand made a closed fist on her right hand and on her left, she has all five fingers up, closes it, then raises another. This signals that there are six bandits and they pose a huge threat. She also signals that there is nothing No. 13 has to worry about when he leaps the wall. Still watching her, she takes out six arrows and fits most on her right hand, between her fingers. The other two arrows are held by sticking them partially into the branch she is balancing on. Once the arrows starts to fly, it is his signal to act. He must give enough time for the strike force to climb the walls. Julia's goal is to remove anyone using a bow to make it less dangerous. Once she is done, she may select other targets.
An object streaks in the night. To No. 13's enhanced mental processing speed, the arrow seems to crawl in the sky but he hears it thud into someone's flesh. No. 13 is already leaping and holding onto the wooden wall before he hears the body fall off and land with an audible thud. However, he is over before the screams of alarm sounds off. Several more arrows streaks by and more bandits drop, some looking for shelter while the better prepared ones hold their shields up to protect their vitals.
With lightning fast speed, No. 13 unsheaths his sword and with tremendous speed,, moves so fast that it appears that he slides from one person to the next like a blur. The dead falls, their blood leaking onto the wooden platform that stands behind the walls. In just seconds, three men lay dead, only surprised expressions the last message written on their face as blood gushes from their nearly separated heads.
The fear froaze the other three men in place, their pale faces even apparent in the night. More bandits are drawn to the commotion and a few more arrows flies and impales themselves into the bandits with bows in their hands. No. 13 was already on the move and the three snap back into the here-and-now, their spears thrusting forwards in unison, fiercely putting a lot of effort into finishing off this monster in front of them. No. 13 weaves, and had to angle his blade to brush aside the incoming spears, but not much effort is needed. Incomparison to the guerrodos and boreas, these men of simple mortal flesh are much slower, like fighting small children with a club. Only the flickering silver blade flashes before the eyes of the men, each grasping their necks in horror, desperately trying to hold in their life essence from leaving their spurting necks. All was in vain and they soon felt the cold empty voice calling to them.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
To give the strike force more time to assemble and ready themselves, No. 13 had to infiltrate further into the camp. For the most part, this is a simple place with several large buildings and a few smaller ones. The area of the camp is perhaps no bigger than 200 meters long in a sort of oval shape. At the front, four towers stands about 2 meters higher than the wall itself. No. 13 can barely make out the men standing atop, but he guesses about four to five men are in each tower. Beneath that, near the gate, tents are sitting there, surrounding a few firepits with armored men ready to do battle. From a quick count, he estimates slightly above a hundred men but no more than one hundred and fifty.
A score of armed bandits rushes towards No. 13, spears pointing at him, their gleaming sharp tips reflecting the fire and moonlight. This, will be an issue for No. 13, and even with all the advantages that science gave him, being surrounded and pierced at with twenty spears is still impossible for even his super soldier reflexes and agility to avoid. To combat this number advantage, his hands flickers, the knives leaving his hand like a magic act, and appearing in the bodies of the enemies. Of the three knives, two hit with deadly precision while the other likely glanced off a shield and entered the shoulder of another man he wasn't even aiming at. Julia's arrows found a couple, helping No. 13 limit the numbers that was sent against him.
No. 13 moves, his mobility giving him an advantage over the slower moving group. Thankfully, there is enough space to operate. While moving, several throwing knives leaves his hand in a blur, their spinning blades finding some purchase into the flesh of bandits. Two more fall and the group slows down ever further, afraid of the incoming flashes of silver lights. No. 13, saves his last two and rushes to flank the men while they hide like turtles underneath the wall of shields. Several spears stab out when he is close but he dances away, his foot work smooth and always readjusting, keeping him in perpetual motion. Only several bandits can engage him while the rest tries to swing out their line and close in on him like a jaw. But, he kicks aside one shield to find the soft flesh of a man behind it, and kicks the corpse into his fellow bandits, throwing a couple off-balance and uses the rebounding force to push himself away and out of the closing trap to their frustration and dwindling numbers.
Boom! a roar fills the air with its shattering heavy presence. Behind No. 13, a figure, one he feels comfortable around, was glowing a silverish light around her body. Turning back to see the bandits, he witnesses that she had cleared away eight men. Of the original twenty, only six still poses a threat but they had injuries from light to very minor. The rest though, laid on the ground dead or in the process of dying. Cries of pain and misery sounds out, with men torn nearly asunder with missing limbs or chunks of flesh. His mind cannot help but wander to the Boreas, how it took one of those directly on and was just severely injured.
The strike force behind him rushes forwards and strikes down the remaining six that are still standing, the bandits not putting up any resistance. They were simply overwhelmed, the strike force came down crashing on them like a large tidal wave.
This brought the attention of the bandits in the front, and one of them takes charge, taking about thirty men under his command. Each men groups up in a five man team and stagger their lines to minimize the destructive power of Avidia. Then another ten bandits, these armed with bows spreads out, arrows aimed and fired before they scatter. It is an interesting tactic and it could overwhelm Avidia if she is not careful. That sort of power from her is quite draining from No. 13's experience.
In order to protect her, the strike force gathered around her, their shields raised at angle to try and catch the arrows. Avidia surrounds herself with her magic, using the energy like an armor. When the arrows fell, only one unlucky strike force member took an arrow to the thigh, the man falling to one knee but not crying out in pain. His fellow members pulls him back into their ranks, protecting their own.
Julia is not out of the fight yet. Firing from a new position, she downs a couple of archers before they can launch a second volley. However, eight arrows are in flight and the thirty charging men are closing in quickly. Avidia unleashes another ball of silvery energy and five more men go down in a explosive bloody mist. The smell of burned shit and other bodily parts fills the camp air with a most foul miasma. Even the smell, causes tears to fill the corner of No.13's eyes.
No. 13 rushes like a bolt of lightning, going after a group to slow them down so Avidia can have more time and to alleviate the pressure on the men guarding her. If the strike force charges them, then it would limit Avidia's ability to act. As skilled as she is, her throwing out those magical grenades can kill the bandits more efficiently and save the lives of the strike force. If they were to go head-to-head, No. 13 believes that their skills would equal one another, making the probable casulties high. In order to save them, they need to create a major disadvantage.
Twirling with sword going around himself like a whirlwind, No. 13 knocks aside the spears from a few. Not all of the five can engage him at once and he keeps moving to flank the group, limiting the number of weapons that can come into play. During his recovery, his sword lashes out like a viper, striking the bandits into their vulnerable flesh, his sword like a brush and their blood his medium as he makes a massacre appear like art. Blood scatters and sails into the air, the cries of pain adding depth to this art in motion.
By his first pass, three men were down, numerous wounds inflicted on them by a flurries of his sword falling down on them like a storm. It takes a lot of energy, but he uses this scene to strike fear into the hearts of these men. Sometimes, a display of disturbing actions or scenes can affect the effectiveness of one's opponents. No. 13 wants to throw them off their rhythm, give them pause, anything to give an edge. After all, most men fear for their lives and it is only a few that lack this fear.
Arrows are fired at him, the archers seeing that No. 13 has pass the rushing bandits, leaving them vulnerable. No. 13 doesn't know whether to feel sorry for the leader that came up with this plan. It is a good one, but super soldiers are something the man cannot wrap his mind around. Still, No. 13 knows that one day enough questions will arise about his physical gifts, even if they never brandish their guns. By then, he hopes he has enough backers and powers behind himself to have those keep their mouths shut. While slipping through the arrows like a ghost, he thinks to himself that he really needs to get some blackmail materials on those higher up in these societies, they can help keep some of the pressure at bay.
With so many vectors of attacks coming from his group, it allows a lot of the fighting forces of the bandits to disperse. As fast as he is, being pinned down on all sides, would even turn him into a joke of an opponent. Each plays a role in helping the others stay alive. Although, perhaps Julia could harass them to death given her guerrilla tactics. She can fade in and take them out from a distance and leave quickly. No. 13 would have to be more creative in his approach to achieve the same, even if he is more gifted than her. She simply has the better tools for certain tasks.
Several archers goes down, Julia's arrows finding their targets and a couple more are dead, unable to do anything when death is near. No. 13 reaps their souls, his sword delivering them into the abyss. The rest, now only a couple left, flee back towards the main group. Judging from the group ahead, they look on in horror as many of them are dead from only a few people. No. 13 puts on an act, yelling out in their language the few phrases he knows. "Mongrel curs! Come at me if you dare!"
Archers from atop the tower now only about 80 meters away, start letting loose their arrows upon No. 13. Tens of arrows takes flight and No. 13 leaps behind the large building, his leg strength strong enough to carry him quickly away before the arrows could land. No. 13 shouts into the darkness once he is safe. "Julia, snipe those archers on the tower so the main force can start their assault!"
No. 13 sees a tired Avidia appear behind the men, the attacking force down and out, every men slain. Of the twenty strike members that came, two are dead, and two injured. In terms of the price of battle, that is a good return. Things could of been worse without Avidia's magic to take down most of them before they could approach. He doubts she will be throwing more magical grenades, though she has an orb on her. Seeing the state of the bandits, he doubts she will use it and he sees no purpose. The bandits will soon be pressed heavily once the main force comes into play.
Julia, now inside of the fort, fired several arrows and No. 13 estimates she has less than twenty left. They sail, their targets unable to move that quickly in the cramped towers. If she needs more arrows, there are plenty lying on the ground and maybe it would be better if she can pin them here and have the main force attack them from the front. With nothing better to do, he races forwards again, picking up the arrows from the dead in a bundle while he avoided them falling from the sky. Picking up two quivers, he quickly guesses he has another fifty and makes his way back towards Julia and he places them near her feet. She gives him a nod, and No. 13 doesn't have to say to keep the archers busy.
A loud sound smashes the front gate, Augusto's force now at the front door. Lucia and Lucretia's magic shatters the gate made of wood into nothing more than kindling. The blast from No. 13's position and observation, kills and injures around twenty men in the process. Shielded warriors with long spears marches forwards towards the opening, their spears pointing forwards in a menacing and threatening manner. The opposition, their ranks a mess, tries to reorganize their line and to hold the opening that measures about 3 to 4 meters. Arrows soon disuade them of that notion, the timing perfect for the main force to come through and the two lines collide in a war of flesh and metal.
An armored man comes out of the building, with four men in tow and No. 13 knows quickly that this man is in charge. Out of everyone, he is wearing fine mail with plates of steel covering most of his torso. A large broad sword was already unsheathed and the man was shouting orders, his own body glowing with a silver light. No. 13 sees moats of silver light gathering in the man's hand and knows he only has just a couple of seconds to act before Augusto's force will take a serious blow. Julia guessed the same, because she fired several arrows that collided into the man's back, the silver light around him flickers slightly and pushing him forwards and the magic shoots off in the wrong direction, the deadly bolt of energy slamming into the wall and putting a hole in it.
No. 13 unsheaths the last two knives and tosses them quickly while they are still confused. Two of the guards goes down, knives sticking clearly from their throats with blood spraying for a few seconds before it turns into a leak. He wants to put the advantage more in his favor. The caster, for No. 13 can clearly see him as one, still has that energy glowing around him and acting like a second armor. Killing the guards makes more sense, giving him less threats to worry over. A sensation of electricity runs along his spine, not out of fear, but excitement? In these occasions, he may miss the drugs. He has little clues about the ability of this caster and what he needs is caution, not an eager feeling of battle. Yet, he cannot help himself and this is the first time he is going to fight someone with magical abilities, something he never thought he would ever do in a lifetime.
No. 13 has been discovering more aspects of himself lately. Without the drugs, he is not finding the same control he had previously, and that worries him. Just a week ago, he was more cold, distant, and he questions if his mental age is regressing to that of a teenager's. He hoeps not, but he will need to train and sharpen his mind to limit this potentially growing weakness.
The man turns towards No. 13, fury coloring his face a crimson. He points his sword at No. 13 and he guesses the man is challenging him. If noone was around, No. 13 would simply put a magazine of bullets into the man but he probably has to act by some stupid code of honor. The people around the man is expecting it and oddly enough, the battle pauses ever since the man began his shouting.
No. 13 walks towards the man, his lazy steps projecting that he doesn't put the man in his eyes. However, No. 13 is highly alert and his foot always put into position to move quickly if needed. He wants to test himself against a caster and see the extent of their combat capabilities. He knows Julia will be watching, interferring if needed. As for Avidia and the rest, he doesn't have a clue, he doesn't know how they will act in this position.
The man glows, his glow even brighter than Julia, possibly even Lucia. He wonders if this means the man is a step above them when it comes to magic. Before he could further analyze, the man charges at him, sword high in the air.
No. 13 discovers that this man is definitely faster than Avidia when invoking her magic, his speed probably matches Julia but is still slower than himself. If he invokes his hyper state of mind, this man would end up as a joke in comparison. Nonetheless, he doesn't use that trick, and saves it for the chaos that might ensue if he kills this man.
"Alright men, form ranks!" Shouts the captain of Augusto's men. Augusto, looking at the scene remains stoic, his upbringing training helps him stay compose even in the most dire of situations. Inside, he has some fear things will not work out. Relying on some queer people of an unknown origin is not something wise, but his intuition tells him that these people are a bit trustworthy. Not that he can really rely on his own intuition all the time. Sometimes, it has lead him into a preccarious situation. Thankfully, the men and women he cultivated around him are capable that it limited those mistakes. Though he barely knows most of these men, he doesn't wish them harm and wants them to return to their families. Looking at his wife and daughter, he can sympathize with these lower born.
Lucia and Lucretia, together works the silverish magical energy into a ball about the size of an infant's head. Once stabilized, mother and daughter raise their hand, palms pointing to the gate and unleashing pure magical energy with a whooshing sound. The ball of energy travels fast, moving 600 paces until it xplodes with enough force to punch a large hole and sends forth a spray of deadly shards of wood to those on the other end. The gate eventually fell down soon after and his men march, shields up and spears at the ready. Lines of archer launch a volley at the tower, hopeing to keep the bandits preoccupied from picking his own men apart.
He marches forwards, Luminea at his side, her magical chainmail glowing slightly. Since she did not inherit any magic of her own, Augusto paid a fortune to have this armor made for his eldest daughter. It can double the physical attributes of its wearer for a certain period of time, maybe for 3 hours. It can also multiply the speed and strength of the one wearing it up to three times, but the limit drops down to an hour. As a doting father, he bought the best trainers, some that even trained himself, and helped Luminea be a force in her own right. Not only is she gifted in fighting, but he taught her how to lead and she follows him at every major event. Even if she is suppose to be promise at her age, Augusto cannot do such a thing to her. He has raised her to wear his mantle after he retires and wishes for a peaceful life after she becomes ready.
For Lucretia, he was planning on marrying her to a senator or a governer, those men of great power. Not only would it further tie the Andares family into the nobilus class, but further spread their power and influence. As the head of the family, it is his duty to his family to further increase it status. Since Lucretia had magic, it would be easier and more beneficial to the empire to include her in the nobility. The higher ranks of the nobility is usually determined by magical abilities and the emperor himself is a high caster, the strongest of these class. Lucia is a mid tier caster and if she were a nobilus, she would be around a mid tier one, possibly being a provincial governer or a mayor of a large city.
The reason why he has pause now is due to the fact of a certain mysterious young man. Judging from the little he saw that night and the report from avidia with the battle against the Boreas, the young man is much stronger than he thought. The odd thing, noone can detect a hint of magic within the youth, making him question constantly in his head,how is the youth as strong as he is now. From Avidia's description, his strength and speed may even surpass that of even the high casters. What would a union between his gifted youngest daughter and such a youth produce. There is more than one way to get entry into the nobility, and the other way is through military service. Given the Andares's family power and wealth, the child of such a union could easily rise up within the ranks, even the youth, whom apparently doesn't have aname, though he is not sure how that works in the society he comes from, could easily be a genral in the Ariminian Imperial legions. That rank alone would place him around that of a senator. Given the youth has no family name, marrying into the Andares family would automatically make him part of the Andares clan and his success would shine brightly on Augusto's family.
Augusto and Luminea march forwards, the men had already cleared the path for them. Luminea winds back her arm and he watch her throw her spear, the power behind it vast, and it easily pierces through two men before it stops. Augusto removes his sword, feeling the tingle of magical energy surge through his body. It makes him feel elated but his years of control tamps down those feelings,. The first tiem, he felt a rush of euphoria, a feeling that he was invincible, only to have those feelings shatter when his own father ordered five of his elite guards to beat him down. After that lesson, he has learned to not get ahead of himself and enough opposition to him could easily dispatch him like a bug.
"Father, it is a caster!" Lumina shouts, pointing her finger at the large building in the distance.
Wishing Lucia and Lucretia were here, Augusto cannot do anything but watch as the power gathers. Even if his wife and daughter were here, they might just equal this man. This thought, sends a tremble down deep into his soul. Something isn't right about this whole scenario, a bandit shouldn't have a mid-high caster in their ranks. Someone of this ability should be in the nobility, not in some backwards place as the great plains. That man alone could turn the tides of this battle and he can feel the trickle of sweat drip slowly on his back.
A brilliant flash, Augusto closes his eyes, and the sword surrounds him with energy, something to enhance the durability of his flesh and armor. A thunderous boom sounds but he feels intact, the explosion missed him and his men by a wide margin. Looking up, he sees the man slightly bent over, and looks around and further ahead to see Avidia and the strike force in the distance. Somebody from the strike force must of disrupted the caster, making his aim go really wide.
Augusto sees the man turn and a figure jumps from behind the large building. It is the young man, Devin. He hates referring to him by his false name, but the youth has never chosen one for himself. Names are important and he wants to bestow upon the youth the honor he deserves for helping weaken the bandits as he has. He did a far better job than Augusto had expected. The dead down on the other side is a testament to the work Avidia, Julia, and Devin has done.
Before he knew it, a battle has commenced between the youth and the unknown caster. Augusto never saw the youth fight before, besides a small glimpse that night during their first meeting, and the night concealed most of that battle. Seeing this, the youth flickering around like a sprite, avoiding the fast and furious assault of the caster, Augusto really underestimated the youth. Augusto can barely even make out the caster's fast movement and the youth appears to be weaving about, his own sword lashing out and slamming against the magically armored caster. Sparks of light would shed, the magic being spent and further draining the caster. The man even tried to throw a quick bolt of magic but the youth avoided it easily, his leap taking him over 10 paces away. The youth is like the wind, fluid and powerful. Like a storm, it can lash with a fury, uprooting trees and it can be graceful. Even his sword can cut the air, the wind from each slash blowing the hair of the caster about. 'Ventus, what a fitting name.' Augusto thinks to himself. Given the sword he would have given the youth if he accepted the proposal for marriage, both man and blade would definitely suit one another. Yes, Ventus suits the youth tremendously What other word can encapsulate the nature of the youth better than the force of the wind itself..
Thinking that, with the sword, the youth can easily defeat a mid high caster! Augusto looks carefully, the sword of the youth is nearly useless, the magic warping and cracking when both swords collide. He worriees that the youth cannot defeat the man before the sword gives out. The sword he had given the youth is a finely crafted blade, but it is still one that is not forged of magic. Even ones without magic coarsing through them, ones forged by a caster smith is still several times better than what the best mundane smith can even hope to forge.
No. 13 avoids a swing that would have threatened to split him in two. Several times over, the battle would have ended if the bastard didn't have magic covering his body. But, the light around him is flickering and the man's movement is more frantic and a bit more dangerous by his desperation. Unfortunately, No. 13's sword is not doing so well, the blade is bent out of shape and cracks has formed on its body. Still, he doesn't need a sword to defeat this person, it would just be easier.
No. 13 foot lashes out and catches the man in the mid section, slightly bending him over. The magic could only negate some of the force No. 13 suspects. The arrows and the many strikes he has landed was evident enough of that. If this were not going on, he would be curious to gauge the man on how much pain he is feeling. It would be a study No. 13 wouldn't mind dishing out on him.
The light flickers and taking this chance, No. 13 shoves the sword one final time through the man's neck, leaving the sword there. He looks at No. 13 with horror, all that early arrogance gone and now he is no better than others before him. Like most, when confronted by death itself, all men fall to their knees. No. 13 looks at him, dispassion the only emotion he projects. Killing is killing, and No. 13 did his job.
The place remains silent, everyone still frozen like statues in place. No. 13 looks around and not knowing what else to do, shrugs. The attention leaves him feeling unnerved but he doesn't show it. Is he suppose to say something? Before he thought about asking Avidia a simple enough question, the bandits drops their weapons and kneels on the ground, only less than he figures seventy-odd something remaining.
"No. 13 looks about and sees the rest of Augusto's men comes flooding in, apprehending all these men and binding their hands together. The men were searched and then taken out of the camp to who knows where. No. 13 is unsure of what Augusto would do with these captured, but it is none of his business. They only thing he is concern with now is the reward that he will be given. The fight was easy enough, hardly any casulties and they haven't yet looted the place. Plus, there is that great sword the man used. Though not his style, it would be better than nothing and this thing is much tougher than his own sword, possibly even magical. Augusto can simply take it out of his cut, but this sword is useful to him for now.