I was genuinely taken aback by how carefree she seemed when she first stepped forth. It was as if she was completely unaware of the danger that she was walking into.

And then, as if nothing bad could possibly happen as a result of provoking the enemy, she actually started taunting them.

Just as he always did.

Pushing himself, taking unnecessary risks, getting hurt for no reason other than to show off his strength...

...and when he inevitably took it too far, I would always step in, scold him for his carelessness and eliminate the danger myself.

So naturally, I would do the same thing here.

Of course I would.

I was a fool.

For while her demeanor was most definitely carefree, it was in no way careless. Much to the contrary, she had full control of the situation the entire time.

The brigand who thought to exploit her blind spot as an easy vector of attack? Purposely baited there.

The arrow that flew during a seemingly opportune opening? Dealt with long before the battle had even begun.

Yet both times, I moved without thinking. To eliminate an enemy who was already doomed to die, to intercept an attack that never would have even connected in the first place.

And to what end?

"Brigitte, I am so sorry..."

A worthless apology escapes my lips.

"...the only thing my actions accomplished was distracting you from the battle."

"'sfine," she growls. "get behind me."

She does not even bother to glance my way.

But that cold, disgusted look in her eyes...

...while she was kind enough to forgive all my previous transgressions, this latest mistake of mine has clearly burned through the last of her patience.

As such, I quickly do as she says before she can come to hate me any more than she surely already does.

"You. Bandit."

A monotone voice, devoid of all passion.

Yet it fills the air like thunder.

"One chance. You get one chance."

She flexes her hands, as if practicing to wring their necks.

"Put that down and I don't kill you."

With her threat issued, Brigitte quietly awaits the man's response... which comes in the form of a vulgar dismissal that makes me want to render him into ash myself.

But my intervention has already worsened this situation enough.

So I remain still.

Brigitte, however?

While the ceaseless flow of thoughts within her brain could already be likened to a raging storm, its intensity instantly surges to the point where it would not be surprising if actual sparks were to manifest around her.

And in a way, they do.

In the form of Script.

"cometomyaidohbeastofsteelplacewithinmyhandthespearofkingsandletusrendasunderallthatstandsbeforeus FRAGMENT LANCER."

An entire spell, chanted within a single breath.

And when its Script vanishes, a tiny fleck of metal materializes just above Brigitte's open hand. The minute distortion it causes in the magnetic fields around us would imply that it is some form of...

...ah, I see. Rather than a pure metal, it is composed of some sort of iron alloy.

And as if pulled by a magnet's opposing poles, it starts to stretch out in two directions-

No, that is inaccurate.

Rather than being stretched, it is... growing. Like some sort of plant, perhaps?

As it rapidly gains in mass, the expansion of its width ceases relatively quickly. On the other hand, its length continues to increase until it is nearly as long as Brigitte is tall, with one end flat and the other seemingly as sharp as a Dragon's fang.

Truly a fascinating sight... it is a shame that all of this took place far too quickly for typical human perception to even be able to appreciate.

Even I in my human form am forced to expend a great deal of concentration to be ab-

"HA!"

A guttural laugh assaults my ears.

"That's your comeback? Fragment fucking Lancer?" the man taunts.

But rather than responding with words, Brigitte crouches down and kicks off against the ground, launching herself towards the brigand.

I-

...I did not expect her to be able to run so quickly. Putting my own standards aside, she is considerably faster than most humans that I have seen.

And judging from the glint of fear in his eyes as she charges forth, it appears that the target of her ire feels the same way.

At first it appears as if he will attempt to block her incoming attack with her own stolen staff, but instead he tosses it towards another of his group in order to bring his own axe to the ready.

"RAAAAAAH!!!"

A frantic swing to bat away the spearpoint that was but a hair's breadth from his neck.

Being much lighter than her quarry in both stature and weaponry, Brigitte ends up with her spear batted towards the ground. But rather than lose her balance, she pivots her heel and shifts the momentum into another slash at his throat.

And another.

And another.

And another.

My kind, sweet Savior.

The girl who, from the moment she rescued me from that lonely, hellish prison, had shown me nothing but patience and understanding.

In this moment, it is as if she has become a completely different person.

A predator, singularly fixated on piercing the throat of her prey.

"...beautiful."

Yes. Truly beautiful.

Not to say that she was not always beautiful, with her awkward smiles and barely-subdued panicking over nothing in particular and her clear discomfort when speaking to anyone other than me.

But in this moment, she is beautiful in an entirely different way.

Weaving around the brigand's defenses, redirecting the momentum of his counterblows in order to further increase the speed of her own attacks, constantly attempting different vectors from which to strike.

All the while, never stopping.

Dancing the endless dance of death.

Despite the horror I feel regarding the danger she faces, I cannot help but notice the sides of my mouth tugging upwards.

For at least I get to enjoy this sight before she casts me out.

"Shit-"

clang

"SH-"

clang

"DON'T JUST STAND THERE-"

clang

The sweat falls from the brigand's face like rain as he desperately tries to create some distance between them.

"HELP ME OUT HERE G-"

Brigitte springs from below, launching her spear upwards towards its sole target.

"GOD-"

He staggers back just in time, causing her blade to carve a notch into his right ear instead of his throat.

Unfortunate.

"GOD DAMN IIIIT"

She follows up with a quick twirl of her spear which sends the other end into a perfect arc to finally sli-

BAM

At the last possible moment, another brigand somehow manages to bash Brigitte's spear away and save his miserable comrade.

And rather than simply bask in the glory of his miraculous accomplishment, this shield-brigand is intelligent enough to follow up with a full swing of his defensive implement, backed with the entirety of his mass.

"Tch."

A cross of her arms, to reposition her spear between herself and the oncoming shield.

A slight bend of her elbows, to absorb some of the impending impact.

And a little hop of her feet, to ensure that-

"RAAAAAAAH!"

SLAM

...that the collision launches her backwards, rather than into the ground.

Much to my relief, she manages to maintain her balance even during the short time she spends airborne. Safely landing on her feet, she bleeds off the last of the momentum of the shield hit by stumbling backwards, then crouching down and skidding along the ground.

Unfortunately, it seems that the other brigands are rapidly closing in on her, having been fully shaken from their stupor.

"......"

The sight of my savior running backwards as several of those disgusting bastards continue their pursuit... it takes everything I have to keep from rushing to her aid.

But instead of taking rash action yet again, I focus my perception on the entire situation.

And now I can clearly see what Brigitte is doing.

By "retreating," she is in fact luring the brigands from their scattered positions to chase after her.

Forcing many points to converge into one.

Like a lightning rod.

And just as it seems as if they are about to catch up with her...

"Lord of the endless waves
as your waters flow
through the mountains themselves
you shall also flow
through all who would stand in my way."

...she immediately reverses direction and lunges towards them with her spear at the ready.

"Partisan's Current."

As if being guided along by the motion of Brigitte's spear, a spiraling column of water flies from its sharpened end and slams into the closest brigand.

"Gfuh-"

And through the closest brigand.

And the one directly behind him.

And so on.

Once again, I am overwhelmed by my Brigitte's battle acumen... her seeming retreat was all a ploy to pull these fools into the optimum formation for this water drill to, well... drill through the lot of them.

Of the initial thirteen I had counted when this chase first started, only eight remain.

Two took her spell head-on and were cleaved in twain.

One saw it coming, but not quickly enough to avoid ventilating most of his abdomen.

Another took a hit to the shoulder, lost it entirely and is now bleeding out on the ground.

And one final idiot attempted to duck underneath it, but ended up getting his head obliterated for his efforts.

As for the rest, they simply watch on in fear as Brigitte gives her spear a quick twirl to remove any lingering water droplets from its surface.

"...fucking idiots," she spits.

step

step

step

With her blank expression masking the still-raging tempest of anger within her, Brigitte walks forward.

Through the path of destruction that she just wrought.

"Though I cross the endless expanse
My claim yet remains unbroken."

...what?

"Though I wade through a sea of countless impostors
I shall never lose sight of what is MINE."

Why is she-

"I cast away this shell of falsehoods
So that my loyal servant may return to me."

Is this some kind of ploy? Yes the remaining brigands are all frozen with fear, but I cannot for the life of me understand why she would cast-

"To my hand, Aggregate Archive."

Instantly.

By which I mean the exact moment the spell's Script vanishes.

Brigitte's staff reappears in her hand, and her spell-created spear is now being held by the brigand who her staff had been tossed to prior to the battle's shift to close combat.

"I'm done fucking around. Silhouette Orchestra."

Once those words pass through Brigitte's lips, the shadows-

"I SURRENDER!"

...hold still as that same brigand tosses the swapped weapon aside, falls to his knees and raises both arms in the air in an apparent sign of submission.

"Really, I mean it!" He pleads. "I'll never so much as glance in your direction ever again, so please spare my life!"

"Wha-" a voice gasps.

"The fuck!?" Another curses.

Some of his comrades glare at him with hatred, while others do the same in envy that they did not think to do the same.

But none of them dare to utter a word before Brigitte r-

"Mmgh-!?"

foolish foolish foolish I am such a fool regardless of how engrossed I was in spectating how did I lower my guard enough to allow this piece of filth to sneak behind me

his disgusting dirt-stained hand is covering my mouth his hairy sweat-soaked arm is holding me in place against his rancid rice-sack of a body how dare you how dare you how dareyou howdareyouhowdareyouhowdareyouhowdareyouHOWDARE

"YOU."

Brigitte's thunderous growl pulls me to my senses.

No, that is incorrect.

It was not the growl that stopped me from losing myself, what did it was what I felt from her at that same instant.

Her soul pulsed, like an anger-sparked solar flare.

With enough force to actually strain against the vessel that contains it.

Out of concern for me.

"Yeah, me," the brigand replies, completely ignorant to what just happened. "Taking your staff might not'a worked, but maybe taking your girlfriend will."

He forcibly tilts my chin upwards, and I suddenly feel a piece of metal pressing against my neck.

Cheap iron, filled with impurities.

"Get your fucking hands off her," Brigitte spits. "Do it now and I'll let you die easy."

The shadows swell and churn and spiral around her.

"Fuck you, I ain't dyin' at aaaAAAAAAAAA-"

I plunge my fingernails into the fetid hand that covers my face.

Because this farce has gone on long enough.

I cannot have my Brigitte fearing for my life.

I am done being a liability to her.

"FUCKING BITCH I'LL KI-"

His threat stops.

Because I stopped it.

If a body of flesh and blood is akin to a puppet and the nerves spread throughout are the wires that guide its movements, then it also stands to reason that its brain would serve as the puppetmaster that controls it.

Its commands travel through the nerves and contract the muscles and so on.

But if I was to, say, devour the piddling flow of lighting that flows from the brain on down the spine? These commands would obviously be stopped, and the puppet would be left without a master to guide it.

And usurping this role is as simple for me as breathing.

"Fool," I say, finally removing his disgusting hand from my mouth. "Imbecile. Idiot."

Commanding his arms to go limp, I step free from his grip.

"You would put your filthy hands on me?"

A tug here, sending the man to his knees.

"You would use me as a hostage?"

A pull there, straightening his free arm.

"You would use me against the one to whom I owe my life?"

SNAP

To prevent against overextending and damaging the body, the brain has certain limiters in place.

I am not a brain.

"Who is at whose mercy now?"

Muscles tighten and contract and tear from their bindings.

Elbows bend in ways that elbows were never meant to.

Fingers writhe backwards and sideways and tear into the flesh of palms.

Tendons snap and teeth are shattered by jaw pressure.

But no screams are heard.

Because disabling this thing's vocal chords was the first thing I did upon assuming control.

The damage I desire to do has now been done, so it is time discard this mangled flesh-puppet. But before I do so, I suppose I might as well take it upon myself to consume what magical reserves it has in order to further my own recovery.

As the soul of a non-magicuser, it is but a piddling amount... but considering my present condition, every little bit does count.

"...there," I sigh, finally removing my fingernails from the back of the ruined brigand's ruined hand.

A little shock renders the lingering blood to soot, which I then dust away by brushing my hands together.

"See?" Turning to Brigitte, I force a smile. "Good as new."

But her expression remains blank.

First she glances over at the remaining brigands, all of whom have long since followed their more intelligent comrade's example of dropping to their knees and reaching to the sky.

Then she shifts her attention on the drained, broken dregs that I left behind.

"I offered you a chance to die easy," Brigitte's voice rumbles.

"hhhhhhhhh"

An attempt to vocalize through a ruined trachea.

"A chance that you passed up."

The hand not holding her staff had been constantly moving this entire time, directing the flow of her Silhouette Orchestra. But unlike the seemingly-freeform movements that she had been using, they now seem to be... ordered?

Their intensity has also completely changed as well. While they were originally primarily hand and elbow gestures, now her entire arm... no, even the arm bearing her staff has joined in on these clearly-practiced movements.

It is almost as if she is dancing with the undulating shadows.

"Movement Seven:
The Serpent that Devoured the Sun."

Up until now, Brigitte's shadows had been primarily amorphous, only assuming a specific shape long enough to serve a given function such as forming spikes or blades. But now they all flow together in an unexpectedly uniform fashion, coalescing into the form of a massive silhouette snake.

"hhhh hhhhh hhhhhhhh"

Setting towards the broken brigand as an actual snake would set upon a mouse, the "head" of the beast of darkness splits open and engulfs the man whole.

Its entire form then suddenly ascends upwards, soaring higher and higher and higher until nearly reaching the clouds...

"Movement Fifteen:
Collapsing Star."

At the apex of its ascent, the shadow serpent spins and coils until finally assuming a perfect spherical shape...

...and vanishing.