Book III: Chapter 2
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Hekkeran stood at the front beside Roberdyck while Imina and Arche took the rear, Arche center, Imina to her left.  

Imina caressed her bow, every one of them had activated their martial arts, more than they’d ever been able to use before.  Arche touched her staff, the gift of the one to save her sisters.  

‘My dear Sebas requested this for me… wonderful man that he is… the least I can do is serve the same Lord with absolute devotion…’  Arche thought as a tranquil kind of peace overcame her.

All the world faded away as the champions of the Empire descended to the cheers of their army, twenty thousand or more knights… it was no small thing to send out such a force, or to face it.

But none of Foresight was at all nervous.  ‘How much stronger have we become?’  Hekkeran wondered, recalling the feel of dealing a final blow to impossible monster after impossible monster.  Strength begat strength, and in between, the constant drills against Sebas, Cocytus, and even, strangely enough, maids… it seemed never ending sometimes… then it would.

He recalled their ‘breaks’ drinking and eating things meant for gods, or being able to travel to quiet places with coin enough for whatever they wanted, each able to pursue the desires of their own hearts… but most of all… the safety of their comrade.  He turned an eye toward Arche, a girl nearly lost, he couldn’t admit it, not really.  Not openly.  ‘But she’s like a little sister, gutsy, feisty, worked like a little demon to prove herself to us, and did.  And we lost her to what?  Greed, we nearly lost her to greedy stupid parents in an empire that ruined her because of who they were.  This… is kind of like ‘payback’.’

It was a comforting thought, and he drew his twin blades when the four enemy champions came close, holding them out at waist height.  In front of him stood a famous figure bearing two curved tower shields.  “Fitting, eh boy?”  Nazami Enec said to Hekkeran when he looked down at the dual wielder.  

The swordsman said nothing, he didn’t look like much, unusual armor aside.  Nazami had to look down to look at the man, ‘I’m bigger, broader, and more experienced… plus how is he going to get around these two shields?  I’ll batter him to pieces, he might be a little faster… but that’s all.’  Nazami narrowed his eyes.  “It’s rude to say nothing when someone addresses you, boy.  At least introduce yourself.”

“Hekkeran Termite.  Sword of the King.  Leader of Foresight.  I am the man who will kill you today.”  Hekkeran replied.

“Termite, so you’re a bug… fine, I’ll squash you like one.  I am Nazami Enec of the Four Knights.”

Hekkeran tapped the back of his curved sword on his shoulder, relaxing a bit, “Guess we’ve got a minute while the others do this… why don’t you go ahead and pray for a painless death, I’ll wait.”

Arche felt the eyes of the blonde woman on her.  “Leinas Rockbruise.”

“Arche…”  She paused, almost giving her last name, but then, impulsively, wildly out of some desperate hope and sense of pride and devotion, said, “Tian.  Arche Tian.”

“Did you forget your last name or something…?”  Leinas asked, then paused and reached for a cloth in the pouch at her side, she dabbed on her face, soaking up the pus.

“You’re cursed?”  Arche asked, and Leinas snarled.

“You’re facing me, child, that makes you the cursed one.”  Leinas replied, but felt no wrath from the short blue eyed caster with the perfect youthful face.  Only… ‘Is she ‘pitying’ me?!’

Roberdyck took out his sword and leveled it at the slender blonde knight, the black armor was surely enchanted at great expense, and yet he felt no anxiety.  ‘Whatever he has, I have better.’  That, Roberdyck was sure of.

“Count Nimble Arc Dale Anoch.”  Nimble said, giving Roberdyck a courteous bow with one hand over his chest before drawing his sword at the priest in front of him.

“Roberdyck Goltron, servant of the greatest of gods, defeating you will show his glory, a swift end to you will show his mercy.”  Roberdyck proclaimed, but it drew no answer.

“Meh, not much for formalities, but this is just polite so… whatever.  Baziwood Peshmel, but I’m commonly just called ‘Lightning Bolt’.”  He introduced himself to the half elf while holding out his long broadsword.  

‘Now that is an ugly looking weapon.’  Imina thought as she looked over the long, broad blade, it had a good looking crossguard that curved outward below the fingers, and her sharp eyes told her that it also had an edge to it.  His thick armor would be hard to penetrate, or could be.  

“Imina.  No surname.  I’m a nobody.  Just an adventurer who got more than she deserved.”  She answered him, and for a moment he looked away.

“Okay, we got the formalities done, are we going to do this or what?”  Baziwood asked.

Leinas held out her pus stained cloth.  “When this hits the ground, we begin.”  A round of nods accepted the offer and her fingers released it.

Hekkeran was the first to reach his target.  Nazami brought the shield to a close in front of him just in time, the sides of the curved tower shields clashed together forming a wall, and he charged toward the swordsman intending to bowl him over.

But nothing happened.

The dual wielder should have fallen.

The dual wielder should be getting trampled under foot.  

‘I should feel his jaw breaking under my boot now, his strangled screams or even his breaking neck…’  Nazami thought, but no matter how he pushed, the swordsman took a single step back and was now immovable.

The clang of the initial impact of the sword finally faded from the air.  “Heh, you weren’t expecting this one, were you, big guy?”  Hekkeran asked, and then brought the other sword down to clang against the shield, his blades crossed over both tower shields, and he began to push.

Nazami’s mouth parted, he mouthed only a deeply disbelieving, ‘No…’  And took a step back.  

Then another.

Then another.

Then another.

“Don’t take me lightly boy!”  Nazami bellowed and spun on his heel, Hekkeran’s momentum carried him forward and the shield smashed full into the dual wielder’s face.

Hekkeran flew backward through the air, but far from being disabled, he flipped backwards and landed on his feet.  The imperial knight was charging again, unimpeded, ‘This time I will trample him.’  Nazami vowed, but he held his shields out at his sides to ensure he could see his target.

‘Okay, not half bad.  Before Nazarick, that would have finished me.’  Hekkeran admitted, ‘Now… half bad is ‘not’ the same as any good!’  He charged forward again, and leapt over the warrior, both blades slashing down as he flipped, and blood sprayed in the air.

Nazami howled and whirled around, pain lanced though him, and down on the dirt he saw the cause of his pain.  “My ears!  You cut off my ears?!”  Nazami roared and Hekkeran turned to face him again.

“I did.  But I did a lot more than that.”  Hekkeran said, and a moment later Nazami began to understand, the weight of his shields was growing.  

‘Am I… cursed?!  Are those cursed swords?!’  The knight asked himself, about to turn and call for help, he saw the state of the others, however before he could decide whether he should ask for help, he felt the lancing pain of the sword through his mouth and piercing the back of his throat.  He saw the neutral face of the dual wielder, and felt another piercing blow through his armor only a moment later, the swords pierced his body through and through.  His eyes widened, the shields wouldn’t move… except to fall.  They slipped from his hands where they fell with a dull thud into the dust of the Katze Plains, his own body held aloft only by the sword of the man who killed him.  He never knew the moment when he also fell down to the ground between his weapons.  The dead, as they say, know nothing.

 


 

Roberdyck missed the moment when Hekkeran began, but he wasn’t worried, he charged his own opponent without fear, Nimble proved to live up to his name, backing away steadily with light, swift footwork that kept the larger, bulkier Roberdyck chasing him.

‘He thinks he can tire me out… pick me off at his leisure, in another life… he’d be right.’  Roberdyck realized with gratitude afresh to his Lord for all the endless training and preparation put into him.  

At first, Nimble felt confident, a smile on his face as he danced with apparent ease, the templar cleric, or so he assumed the man was, looked shorter, bulkier, and slower.  The face of the bald foe was one of anger.

But after three solid minutes, Nimble began to realize something.  ‘His expression isn’t changing, he should be losing his mind at this.’

‘A trap… he’s got endurance… I’m not tiring him out, he’s trying to tire ‘me’ out…’  Nimble realized with dismay, ‘He should know better…’  But still the templar chasing after him as Nimble continued to dance out of reach, seemed utterly unperturbed.

“No…”  Nimble whispered when he saw Nazami impaled.  Only then did the templar’s face change to a knowing smile, it was almost affectionate, friendly, like a huggable bear… that wanted to maul him to death.

Nimble changed strategy, he began to use his greater height and longer reach to target the templar.  His long slim sword reached past the warrior’s guard and… he felt a mild ‘tap’ and then nothing, the noise which greeted him was of his enchanted sword striking and sliding over the smooth but faintly bumpy armor.  

The sword of the templar came up as Nimble tried to move his sword away and the tip was slowed by being caught against another bump.

And the templar’s sword pierced Nimble’s forearm.  When it did, the stocky fighter stopped and yanked Nimble like he was a fish on a hook.  “Dance away now if you can…”  Roberdyck said while Nimble howled in pain.

Blood stained the ground, a massive fist smashed into Nimble’s face, and he fell back, he had just enough time to see the templar jumping over him, the sword coming down… and to scream once as the sword tore through his armor as if it wasn’t there and pin him to the ground like a freshly collected insect to a board.

Then Nimble too, fell limp.  His fading eyes still full of disbelief as the impossible happened before his dying gaze.

 


 

Baziwood’s cape fluttered in the air behind him as he charged the archer.  ‘This should be easy.’  He thought, as her bow was out and an arrow flew from it, which he avoided, eating up ground as she began to fall back steadily on her heels, loosing arrow after arrow as she went.

He dodged each one, but she showed no fear, his sword came out to the front of himself, thrusting forward where he expected to impale her slender elven body at the belly and nearly cut her in half.

But she was gone.  ‘No, not gone…’  She’d dropped her bow, bent backward, flopped on the ground, and her feet came up to catch his body.  Her hands grabbed his wrists and squeezed.  The armor crunched, pain lanced through him that was so overwhelming that he dropped his sword.  It fell, useless to the ground and her legs pushed off sending him flying overhead to land hard on his back.  

She took up her bow again, far faster than himself, she had another arrow nocked before he’d risen past his knees.  The arrow pierced his body, and he fell forward, blood fountained out of his mouth and out of the hole in his chest.

“Wow, this bow really does pack a punch.”  Imina muttered.

“Nobody to nobody…”  She said as she approached the dying man, “it was never a fair fight.  We had God’s help, you fought alone.  I made it quick, I made it painless.  May you have better luck in the next life.”  She said, then brought her foot up, and then down on the side of his head, squashing it like an insect under her boot.  Brain matter and blood spattered like a cantaloupe hit with a hammer, and then the half elf turned around to see how her companions were doing.

 


 

Leinas shot forward only a hair faster than Nimble, ‘Why would a mage not protect herself…?’  She wondered, ‘Why would a mage not be protected by her party…?!’

She found out when her sword connected and was stopped by the wooden staff.  Shock ran through her as if she were struck by lightning.  “It’s not just wood… you’re no match for me.”  Arche whispered.  

Leinas felt anger run through her body.  “We’ll see!”  She hissed at the mask of pity the young girl showed to her.

Her sword began to flash out faster and faster, and yet Arche seemed to be deflecting it with her staff as if it was just a child’s efforts and not one of the four imperial knights.

Leinas began to grow more and more angry, sweat ran down her face, her eyes bugged out of her head, she ignored the pus that ran down her skin and the sense of self loathing it gave to her.  ‘I have to win!  I have to win or I will never be whole!  I have to!  I must!’  She wailed in her head, and the sense of infuriating pity from the caster grew only more sympathetic, the girl gave ground, but didn’t use a single spell.

The whole world faded away, but Leinas did not know for how long.  It was only when the small girl said to her, “Look at your comrades.”  

Leinas would have ignored the instruction, but the bright blue eyes looked so utterly sad, that Leinas couldn’t help herself, she turned to look.  Nazami, Nimble, Baziwood… all of them were dead.  “Even if you hit me, your sword can’t pierce my armor.”  Arche whispered, and by some trick of what Leinas prayed was magic and not… worse, physical superiority, the girl was in her face.

“Fall down… and deliver the army into my Master’s hands… and I will have you healed…”  Arche said so softly that Leinas didn’t think she heard properly at first.

A small hand suddenly closed around Leinas’ throat.  “I was a mithril before my Master…”  Arche whispered, “Now compared to me… you are not even copper ranked.”  She squeezed, Leinas felt her throat tighten, her body tensed as the girl was dragging her down.

“I’m going to hit you, go limp, if you get up before the end is called, I will kill you.”  Arche’s whisper was the promise of death, “Die tainted and cursed if you want.”

Leinas was just starting to nod when the punch in the woman’s staff hand sent her flying through the air.  Leinas landed on her back… and went limp.

For seconds, nothing happened, silence ruled.  

Hekkeran raised his sword, and a roar of triumph by Foresight split the silence like an ax did dry wood.  Their weapons pumped up and down with their fists.  “Naz-a-rick!  Naz-a-rick! Naz-a-rick!”  They roared, proud beneath the watching eyes of their collective God.

Shouts of disbelief came from the Empire’s side until Leinas herself began to stir.

‘Deliver the army… how… how can she… no… they can’t possibly think they can defeat the whole… no, he has an army that can!’  Leinas realized as she trudged, broken and defeated, back to her own lines.  ‘I just have to hope she tells them to spare me… this is a gamble… the biggest one of my life… but I have no choice!’  She thought and wiped away pus that dripped past the hair meant to hide it.

However, there was only one thing that mattered to her, she glanced over her shoulder and watched the four champions return to the fort, and the King in his dark robes step forward out of the gate of his fort.  ‘That fort can only hold a few hundred or so, and he has no others… what can he possibly do…?’  Leinas wondered as she reached her own lines again.

She rubbed her aching throat and said with a hoarse voice to the first soldier to reach her, “Get Loune, we need to order a general assault!  Now!”

 

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