Chapter 4: Tournament IV - Makeshift Knight

Sighing, Annabelle disconnected from the cockpit for her break.

She came back to a call from Senia.

When she accepted, her friend’s tearful face appeared in front of her, projected from her comms. “Anna, I lost!” she sobbed.

“To Matt? A bit quick, but that’s normal,” she said, then frowned. Actually, that was really quick. She didn’t even take ten minutes to beat Terry thanks to his forthcomingness, so there wasn’t enough time for Senia to come back from battle, take her break, and still lose to Matt. “Oh, wait...”

“No, I lost to Fritz!” Senia cried. “Even though I’m higher ranked than he was. I’m a failure!”

“There, there, don’t cry. It’s not like it's a huge upset or anything; the two of you are fairly close in rank, and given your grades are better than his, that means his piloting skills made up the difference,” Annabelle told her. 

“Uuuh.”

“If you’re still upset about it, just watch his next battle and watch him get crushed by Matt,” she suggested, trying to cheer up her friend. Senia just glared at her, though the glare quickly disappeared as Senia forced her face to stay neutral.

Annabelle sighed at that, but she didn’t say anything. In time, Senia will learn that even if Annabelle became a knight while Senia was still a normal civilian, their private relationship wouldn’t change.

“You could always watch me. I’m up against Bel next. Rank 39. Since I’m using a warrior mech, you might pick up something.”

A look of surprise flickered over Senia’s expression. “A warrior? But don’t you pilot knights?”

The question gave Annabelle pause. Though she suspected foul play, she had no concrete proof, just theories and rumors. If she told Senia, her friend might think badly of her. Perhaps she was just being paranoid and it was an honest mistake.

“Maybe they didn’t have a knight mech to spare. I’m pretty good with warrior mechs too, you know. Don’t forget who tutored you!”

Senia nodded in agreement. “I’d never! Then, allow me to watch with my eyes peeled at your august figure,” she gushed.

Annabelle laughed at that, though she didn’t know how much of that were jokes and which parts weren’t.

Before she studied her next opponent, she checked her inbox. The only message present was from Terry, wishing her a seemingly heartfelt good luck. Annabelle smiled at that. Terry really was a good person, gracious in defeat.

Hopefully her victory over him wasn’t too large a setback for him.

With nothing else needing her attention, Annabelle dove into her research on her next opponent, not that there was much to research. Her next opponent was Belevere Odis, a close friend of hers. They had sparred together plenty of times in the past, so she knew basically all of Belevere’s tricks. 

Belevere wielded spears. Theoretically, spearman mechs often had the advantage against warrior mechs due to their superior reach, but in practice, Belevere’s performance against her was abysmal even when Annabelle piloted a warrior mech to mix things up a bit.

She has also yet to beat her in her knight mechs too.

“Maybe she’ll get nervous and suffer a mental block? I can’t let my guard down, though,” she thought to herself, then dismissed her fantasy. It would be good if she managed an easy victory, but she couldn’t count on it. Expecting an easy fight would also be doing a disservice to her friend.

She had managed to get to her third battle without taking much mech damage thanks to her weaker opponents. In contrast, Belevere would’ve fought opponents much closer to her level thanks to her lower rank. 

It’s unfortunate that the whole format was rigged against the lower ranked students. But even so, Belevere was skilled. It will probably be a difficult battle.

When she checked the map, it only reinforced her beliefs.

The map this time expanded north, revealing the rest of the canyons. A river ran horizontally through the center of the newly revealed region, with soft riverbanks that offered treacherous footing for mechs like her own.

A thick jungle covered the top of the map.

Belevere had dispatched her previous opponent in the jungle, hunting down the rifleman mech while using the trees as cover. Annabelle’s heart sank as she realized that she might have to fight her in the jungle filled with trees.

“Oh man, this sucks,” she groaned. Warrior mechs needed a lot of space to swing their huge swords in order to convert their momentum into power. If Belevere stayed in the trees, most of her strengths will be nullified as she simply didn’t have enough room. 

Meanwhile, as a spearman, Belevere was probably perfectly at home in the jungle. Jabbing with her spear didn’t require a lot of space on the sides after all. Unlike Terry, Belevere probably won’t come to and fight her in the open in the name of honor, either. 

Since her mech was a mobile medium, she will be the one disqualified if she didn’t take the initiative.

“This is pretty much the worst case scenario. Now... what can I do?”

 

Belevere moved through the trees carefully. The foliage was so dense at ground level she could scarcely take a step without destroying a huge amount of plant life. Luckily, the view was a bit better a few meters up in the air, she still had to be careful not to hit something and damage her mech.

Her mech creaked and groaned with each movement. It had taken quite the beating the past two battles.

“Don’t give up the ghost on me now, Avald,” she muttered to her mech.

Her first battle was with a light skirmisher mech that pelted her with laser fire while circling her, overheating her armor while she was helpless and unable to reach it. Her second battle was against a rifleman mech that she had to give up everything to close in on and finally kill, but not before the integrity of her armor had been compromised from the heat. Her movements were much less responsive now too.

Having gone against two ranged opponents in a row, fighting against a physical melee mech should have been a lucky break, but she couldn’t be happy at all having seen the name of the pilot.

“Anne, huh? I didn’t want to face you,” Belevere groaned, not that she’d ever publicly admit it. “At least she’s not using a knight mech. Why isn’t she using one anyway? Could she actually be saying that she can win the whole tournament using only her second best?”

Almost as soon as the idea crossed her mind, she shook her head, throwing away that idea. The Annabelle wasn’t that kind of person. Annabelle was the kind of person who, if she deemed it necessary, was perfectly willing to hunt a rabbit with a cannon. There’s no way she’d willingly handicap herself, not even to give her closest friend a chance to win.

Not to mention even though Belevere had lost to Annabelle so many times in the past in spars, Annabelle never really gloated, but instead patiently pointed out her openings. She couldn’t imagine Annabelle picking a warrior mech just to show off. Annabelle was just that kind of serious person.

Putting two and two together, that meant someone was pulling strings behind the scenes, because given Annabelle’s higher rank, she should have had first dibs to any knight mechs in this tournament. 

If she had to guess, it was probably Alecto’s father messing with the system.

“Oh well, that’s irrelevant. Anne with her warrior is already scary enough, I should be happy I’m not facing her knight.”

To maximize her chances of victory, she’ll have to stay in the jungle. The trees will be much less of a hindrance to her compared to Annabelle. Taking advantage of the fact that the canyons were quite far from the jungle, Belevere wandered around, trying to find a place where the trees were both dense and thick.

If the trees were too small, Annabelle might simply power through them. If they were too far apart, her spear’s advantage will be lessened and Annabelle will be that much more dangerous.

Sadly, dense and thick seemed to be almost mutually exclusive, and it was a while before Belevere found a barely acceptable location. Several of them were much thicker than her mech’s limbs. Even Annabelle shouldn’t be able to cut through one of them in one blow.

Having found a spot that maximized her advantage, Belevere settled down to wait.

After a few minutes passed, much later than she expected, Belevere’s open channel crackled and she heard Annabelle’s voice. “Hey, Bel, I’m at your old location. Where are you?”

Belevere’s sensors traced the broadcasted signal to a heat source she wouldn’t have been able to pick out otherwise. Annabelle hadn’t been lying about her location. 

Since she benefited more from having Annabelle come to her, she replied through the channel. “Track me, Anne.” As soon as the words left her mouth, converted to radio signals to propagate through the air at the speed of light, Annabelle’s mech began to move, making a beeline toward her as she presumably weaved around trees.

“Good, good. This time, I’ll win,” Belevere vowed as she waited for her friend-turned-temporary enemy to appear. Her mind spun as she went over all the ways a spearman mech was meant to fight against a warrior mech: jab and play keep-away until the warrior left an opening, then take advantage of it. And don’t be too committal, of course. She learned from Terry’s mistake.

Suddenly, Belevere frowned. Why hasn’t Annabelle arrived yet? Wasn’t Annabelle’s mech moving a bit too slowly, even considering the terrain?

Perhaps she was just being careful, but Belevere couldn’t help but feel a twinge of apprehension.

The heat signature that she had locked on since their brief exchange over the open channel drew closer until Belevere heard the rustling of something huge barreling through the jungle. The sound grew louder until the source became visible, a shadow with its eyes glowing red.

“Anne!” Belevere shouted. She raised her spear and braced herself. Just in case Annabelle didn’t stop her charge, she would be ready. But luckily, the Vasair slowed down as it neared, coming to a step well beyond Belevere’s attack range.

What she saw made her consider conceding.

The Vasair’s huge two-handed sword was strapped on its back instead of in its hand. In its grip were a set of sword and shield. The sword looked awfully familiar too: it looked like the one Terry’s Galinn was wielding. Worryingly, the color scheme of the shield looked an awful lot like the Galinn’s armor colors too. 

Annabelle had managed to fashion a makeshield shield and sword from her old opponent’s wreckage, turning her warrior into a knight, exactly what Belevere didn’t want to fight.

 

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” Annabelle said, laughing. “I’m not going easy on you!” Her sharp eyes picked out the wavering tip of the Avald’s spear, and taking advantage of Belevere’s distracted state, charged forward with her makeshield shield in front of her.

The shield was absolutely garbage. Light mech armor was worthless and instead of one solid slab of metal, her current shield more of a bunch of little plates cobbled together. That offered much less integrity than a real shield.

It didn’t even have a handle. She had to use the cables from Terry’s wreckage to secure the thing to her mech’s hands.

But for all of its faults, it was still a shield, and it would be enough to reveal a hint of her full strength.

As soon as she rushed forward, Belevere recovered and straightened her spear, thrusting it forward. Annabelle caught it on her shield and pushed it aside. Before she could hand a hit with her sword, though, Belevere jumped back out of reach, readying her spear again.

“Things would be so much easier if you used that sword on your back,” Belevere said.

“Too bad for you,” Annebelle replied. Hiding behind the shield, she pressed forward, sending Belevere into a steady retreat away from her probing sword. Each one of Belevere’s thrusts were caught or deflected. 

During one exchange, Belevere suddenly revealed a hidden piledriver on its wrist, but Annabelle managed to block it with her shield.

 

Annabelle stayed low the whole time, half crouching to cover her legs with the shield so Belevere couldn’t aim to cripple her mobility. With all avenues of attack closed to Belevere, she could do nothing but retreat under the relentless assault from the makeshift knight mech.

Each slash aimed to disable, and although Annabelle never landed a truly solid hit, the damage build up along was taking its toll on her.

She backpedaled away from another sword thrust as Annabelle’s voice came over the channel. “Check, again. When will it be mate?”

“You wish!”

Despite her bravado, Belevere found that her chances of winning were slim at best. Annabelle was quickly adapting to her unorthodox equipment, despite the off balance weight of the shield and the strange shape of the sword. Once Annabelle mastered her tools, Belevere would be in real trouble.

As it was, she was barely keeping up.

Then it came, the first real hit that Annabelle landed on her. Annabelle had rushed in, parried her spear with her shield, and slashed her shoulder before she could get away. The attack hadn’t been anything special; just a standard maneuver to create an opening in a spearman’s defense.

But the fluidity and decisiveness of Annabelle’s was founded upon her familiarity with her weapons and, more importantly, her familiarity of Belevere’s movement patterns. Belevere had been seen through.

As Belevere continued to retreat, she shook her head. 

“I guess this is over.” She sighed.

That shoulder slash was the first of many dominoes to fall and as much as Belevere tried her best, she couldn’t avoid Annabelle’s sword. 

Far from the savage attacks that Annabelle favored when she piloted a warrior mech designed to overwhelm her opponent, her style when she piloted a knight was downright infuriating—slow and steady, never losing grip on the pace of the battle after she grasped it.

“Imagine if you had a real knight,” she said. “You would have won by now.”

Annabelle paused in her attacks. Belevere seized the opportunity to scramble back and take a breath and reorganize her thoughts. The lull won’t last nearly long enough for her to completely recover, though.

She heard a sigh over the channel. “Yeah.”

Annabelle didn’t seem too worried about it though. 

And that’s the privilege given to the strong, Belevere lamented. I’m jealous of you, Anne. 

Anyways, it’s time to bounce. As Annabelle’s Vasair remained in place with its pilot thinking about heaven knows what, Belevere turned and ran.

Normally, she’d be slower than Annabelle since her spearman mech prioritized stability more than mobility, but Annabelle was weighed down by her extra equipment right now. She might actually be able to temporarily outrun the Vasair if she pushed her damaged mech to its limits.

The power reactor hummed and the joints creaked in protest. “Sorry.” 

She’s only had her mech for a few hours, but she was already attached to it. Each movement she made exacerbated the damages Annabelle inflicted.

“She really didn’t hold back,” she muttered. Annabelle targeted all the important areas on her mech, mostly the joints and major armor sections. Only when she was completely helpless will Annabelle take the chance to go for her cockpit. 

By now, her mech was barely functional, riddled with damage caused by Annabelle’s conservative attacks meant to wear her down bit by bit. Even if she won, she won’t last in her next battle.

On account of her relationship with Annabelle, she should concede now, but...

Belevere burst out from the edge of the jungle, the terraforming by the Arvent House ensuring that the boundary between the jungle and the plains were clearly delineated. 

Annabelle chased closely after, her movements sluggish on account of the sword and shield her mech was clearly not designed to bear. Belevere turned to face her, her mech already smoking. “Come! For our last fight together as classmates, this time I’ll win!”