WARNING: OMEGA-CLASS WORLD END EVENT DETECTED ON SURFACE.

RECOMMENDATION: TERMINATE HIBERNATION. ASSIST INHABITANTS.

   Connor sighed as the blaring warnings interrupted his simulation of Venice Beach while his body remained in cold sleep. It looked different nowadays; it had long passed from being a tourist attraction to just another section of a megacorp city. It was the only way he could revisit his homeland, which now lay entire dimensions away from him. He brought up a clock, displaying how long he had been in hibernation. The numbers he saw made him sigh again; to be awoken this early was expected, but not this early. Well over a century before his projected awakening. 

   “Seems my math was off by a few decades. But numbers were always one of my weaker fields.” 

   Long ago, he predicted a catastrophic event would occur worldwide and that he was to be the vanguard. He orbited roughly around this time frame with a tiny space station. It was only big enough to house a drop pod, his stasis chamber, and a little storage to accommodate his needed equipment. 

   “No matter. The situation can’t be helped now.” With a thought, his simulated environment faded into black around him, as one final message appeared on the screen before everything went black. 

 

INITIALIZING THAWING SEQUENCE…

 

   When Connor finally awoke from his overstayed nap, his body only slightly shivered as the cryo pod opened up, allowing him to breathe filtered air. It was the first time in over 2000 years since he had lived in natural air and moved, but there wasn’t much time to gather his bearings. He had trained for this scenario for a long time, and with every second he dallied in orbit was a second he could’ve spent saving someone. Almost mechanically, he’d recite a prayer. A prayer to the one who brought him here, the reason he’d live the life he did now. 

   “It is the duty of the strong to protect the weak. This burden is mine to bear as the innocent weep for salvation. For while others flee from overwhelming fear, I shall know none. Through me, the wrath of Krigamir shall strike down all evil.” 

   After invoking the god’s name, he felt something jump inside him, down to his soul. An acknowledgment that his lord had heard him, that he was aware that once more, one of his precious sons walked the living planes. 

   He moved to a small elevated pad right in front of his cryo chamber, stepping onto it and looking up to see a small port open above him. A swarm of nanites poured down, covering his body as they formed an airtight suit around him. A separate swarm remained close by, reserved for a different purpose. The floor around the platform opened as mechanical arms holding armor and internal wiring pieces rose to begin the next stage. The armor, made of the finest alloy he could acquire and painted so dark that no light shone on it, was accented with bright gold that displayed exquisite livery. After all, why not both when it comes to style or substance? The nanobots grafted the armor onto the suit below, interfacing with him like a new layer of skin. 

   “Through me, all who are innocent shall know comfort and respite. It is my duty to be the people’s sword and shield. My weapons and armor are no mere tools but extensions of myself. With both in hand, I shall purge everything superfluous from paradise.” 

   So came the final stages of the armor on him while a helmet of the same alloy folded out from the neck and encapsulated his head. A heads-up display began its boot-up sequence while the optics powered on and glowed a deep blue. The floating swarm of machines finally came into play as they formed a fitting overcoat and hood around Connor, completing his ensemble. 

   “Through my will alone, I shall triumph.” 

 

…………………

 

   “Is it wise to send me alone, Captain?” Bellia asked her superior, her helmet underneath her arm as she stood in full armor. Her tabard had a single stroke beneath the coat of arms for the Black Mare Defenders. Red and black were their color of choice for the coat of arms, but their armor retained its shiny steel look. It reminded everyone that it was enchanted plate crafted only by the most skilled armorers and enchanters.

   “The contract stated that only one was necessary and was directly addressed to us as it will be a convoy job. All of your sisters are assigned elsewhere, Lieutenant.” Her Captain answered her, not even looking up from her paperwork. 

   Not only were their services expensive for mere peasants, but more often than not, you only needed one Vandyr. Being titled Vandyr was no easy feat; they are women who’ve proven themselves to be veritable heroes. Whether she was an enchanting sorceress or a champion swordswoman, any maiden worth her weight could ascend to Vandyr.

   “Still, to guard common mercenaries…it feels so bland. What could they possibly expect that they require a Vandyr?” The knightess lieutenant asked more questions. “What are we expecting to go through the Farebos or something?” 

   The older knightess sighed before nodding. “That is exactly where you’re passing through, Bellia.”

   “…please tell me you jest, Captain.” 

   She already knew the answer; the Captain wasn’t one to tell jokes when it came to matters of business. The Farebos was a massive forest that served as an untamed border for the various kingdoms on Eintero. Many in the past have attempted to expand and settle within the forest, but the fantastic beasts and monsters that inhabit it never allowed such a slight on their home. Moreover, the only ‘settlements’ found were nomadic Orctribes or bandit encampments. The land posed such a threat to the point that the eastern Weilao Empire and western Verenet Alliance built walls to keep the hostile lands contained and their people safe.

   Unfortunately for Bellia, this horrid place was where she had to go through to get from Point A to Point B. “If I understand this correctly, it’s a Wei caravan returning to the Empire? Don’t they have their brand of Vandyr? Why do they need a westerner to accompany them?”

   It was true that every nation had its breed of Vandyrian women who were different from their contemporaries in many ways. The only commonality between them was that they were influential individuals often lauded as protectors of their lands.

   “That’s the queer part, Bellia. The one who made the request is a Vandyr already contracted to protect it. From what it said, they lost quite a few men during the journey to the other side, so now they need to reinforce the missing defense.” 

   ’ And it’s better to have one perfect weapon than a handful of ‘good’ ones.’ Bellia thought in her head. In the border towns along the walls of the Alliance, there are bands of mortal mercenaries, both reputable and disreputable, offering protection services to cross the Farebos. Only rarely will you see a Vandyr offering her services. With the brewing border clashes in the North against demonic forces, official military actions couldn’t be employed on the lands. Thus, the only options were common thugs or specialized warriors. 

   “Have there been any scouting parties who’ve gone in to see how the wildlife and scum are doing?” Bellia asked the following question: Every bit of information she could get was necessary for the success of her mission. “The last thing I wish for is to travel within and be ambushed by a warband.”

   Her superior pulled a map from one of the many she had in a pot behind her, unfurling it to show an updated chart of the Farebos, “These are four days old; recently, there have been sightings of wolf backs and wild Trolls along the roads but nothing overly dangerous. Regardless of your strength, Bellia, do not underestimate the beasts that live in these woods.” 

   She placed her fist over her heart and saluted her captain. “By your orders, Captain, I will bring honor to our Lady.” 

   Wordlessly, the older knightess nodded and handed the rolled-up map to her subordinate. There was no more time for pleasantries; now, it was time to work. 

   Such was her ethic. The moment her captain stopped speaking, that was the cue to get moving as soon as possible. Wordlessly, Bellia left the main command building and went to the stables. On the way, she picked up a random squire, a peasant girl who aspired to one day be granted the title of Vandyr and join the Black Mare.

   However, they shouldn’t set themselves up for failure; few show promise or talent.

   But Bellia would still be more than happy to show off her power to the girl in her charge. 

   They would need as many riders as possible for the years ahead.

 

…………………

 

   Well over four days had passed, and Bellia wondered if she’d done something to anger the gods or have her Lady withdraw favor from her. Corpses of Orc warriors surrounded her, alongside Wei caravan guards and even a war Troll. A short distance away, her horse lay on its side, belly split open and its neck broken from the charge by the now-dead Troll. To be surrounded by so much death, deep within a region known for causing it. 

   It made her laugh. 

   Even as she bled in some spots beneath her armor from lucky cuts that managed to circumvent the plate, the plate that would otherwise deflect the pathetic crude weapons these wretches used. Her spear dripped with blood, and she wanted to drop it as her arms had begun to grow sore. She had plenty of stamina, being a rider deemed it, but they had been fighting for hours straight, and she didn’t even have the luxury to tell the time. 

   Another nomad attempted to bring down a battle axe on her as she stood there laughing, but a more feminine scream answered his belligerent battle cry as her squire ran past her and plunged her shortsword into his heart. She yanked the blade violently from his corpse, hacking away at his head as if she were butchering meat. Around them, the goblins accompanying the warrior squealed and scattered back into the forest, likely to find another to inspire their ineffectual courage. 

   “My lady! Are you alright?!” Her squire, whose name she recalls as being Dahlia, asked as she gripped her sword in one hand and held Bellia’s shoulder in the other. Such an action would’ve warranted a hard disciplining, but the knightess didn’t react as she continued laughing. 

   To the other side of Bellia, away from her dead horse, the remaining Wei guards continued to fight other nomads while the Wei Vandyr clashed her swords with a more grizzly-looking tribal. 

   It was an annoying sight and one she predicted from a caravan filled with goods from the Alliance returning to the Empire. The barbarians planned this ambush well; they had waited for a juicy target to ambush. It was also an embarrassing look for her. 

 ‘To fight alongside mortals against vermin. Oh, how the fates play cruel jokes.’ She laughed more, earning a concerned look from her squire. Yet the young woman held firm, turning her back to her mistress and firmly holding her sword, ready to defend her. The girl had long accepted that she was replaceable; her mistress or other knights were not.

   They were simply traveling along one of the primary roads, hoping to get as close to the eastern walls as they could before nightfall. But, their plans were cut short by the sounds of warhorns and battle cries. It was a full-on pincer attack from both sides, combined arms as Goblins and Orc tribals descended on the caravan. The guards had hastily tripped over each other as their Vandyr barked orders for them to form a defensive line, but it was all in vain. It was a vicious melee, and quite a few fell in the first engagement. Yet their enemy had their foot on the caravan’s neck, only growing closer to crushing the life from it and ending this journey.

   Bellia could not think of a worse way to die than in the middle of this damnable forest with her squire. 

   She flicked the blade of her spear of any stray blood, her squire relaxing her stance momentarily as it appeared her mistress had returned to her senses. From above, a group of four Goblins leaped with weapons at the ready, intending to drop onto them where their armor would be weakest. Dahlia pierced one with her sword, but another fell onto her, and they grappled over the ugly green creature’s weapon. 

   Meanwhile, the other two dove for Bellia, but she simply flicked her spear across the air in front of them and watched as their bellies exploded outwards from a clean slash right through their flesh. She looked down to see her squire still struggling. She ignored the viscera that covered her shoulders as she thrust her spear forward and skewered the Goblin, pinning down Dahlia. 

   “My thanks, my lady!” Her squire exclaimed before scrambling to her feet and retrieving her weapon. With a disgusted flick, the knightess launched the corpse away and turned to see the remaining caravan guards and Wei Vandyr still fighting. “Should we assist them, ma’am?” 

   Bellia cracked her neck, rolling her shoulders even as the damp air of the forest bit at her wounds and the stench of death filled her nose, “Aye, better to die together with our temporary allies than separate. Come, Dahlia.” 

   Over her shoulder, she glanced at a look of awe from her squire, likely surprised that she addressed her by name. She hasn’t called her by it the entire time they traveled, only referring to her by her title or ‘girl.’ With slightly renewed spirits, the duo ran across the bloodied field to join the rest in the fight. Bellia watched as the Wei Vandyr, whose name she recalled as being Zhao Bai, flowed away from an attacking tribal’s axe strikes before swiftly decapitating him along with another behind him. She granted the Vandyr of Wei this; they have finesse in their combat styles. 

   Compared to Bellia’s toned and hardened physique, Bai was much lighter, slimmer, and slightly shorter. But she was still a deadly opponent from what Bellia had seen and would give any Alliance swordswoman a run for her money.  

   Looking over to the two foreigners, Bai wiped some blood from her pale cheek before meeting both of them as the fighting raged on behind her. A few strands of black hair spilled from her bun, curbing her eyes slightly. Still, one could not mistake the fires of combat stoked in their honey brown. “Good to know you two are still alive, you wounded?”

   “I am, but it will take much more than sharp stones and crude iron to kill me.” Bellia chuckled, still biting down the pain that echoed across her body. She then looked at the mortal caravan guards who still fought; their training had kept them alive so far as they had formed a shield wall. “How many of your men are left?” 

   Bai sighed and shook her head, “Only 18 are left; the other 22 are either dead or too wounded to go on. I can only pray to the Dragons that this is what’s left of the raiding party.” 

   As if to counter her hopes, one of the men in the wall called out another Troll, and the three women turned to see a second war Troll smash right through the shield wall, knocking men away as more raiders followed behind it to attack. They were big and ugly blue creatures known for their brute strength, compensating for their lack of intelligence. 

   “Damnit! They had another of those beasts?! Come before the men are overwhelmed!” Bai motioned for the two to follow her, and they all quickly stepped forward to save the men. Or they tried to because as they stepped only a few feet, a wall of roots burst forth from the ground and blocked their path. “What the hell?!” 

   “Oh no, ladies, you’re going to entertain us. Let’s leave the trash to the shredders.” A voice boomed overhead. The three turned to look up the incline, watching as a female Orc in heavy armor and lugging a large axe on one shoulder revealed herself, while another wearing a boar pelt over her head and chalk lines all over her arms stood a few feet behind. “It’s been a while since I’ve tussled with some Vandyr; maybe you girls will be the new breeding sluts for my brothers!” 

   The air grew thick and heavy, filled with murderous animosity that seemed to radiate off of the chieftess. It made Dahlia buckle as her heart felt the total weight of the killing intent. The two Vandyr stood before her, though, blocking the Orc out. Their auras radiated, showing determination even now in the face of potential defeat. They both looked at each other and nodded; this atmosphere meant only one thing.

   She was a Maldoon, the antithesis of the Vandyr. Women who stood only for chaos and destruction, desiring nothing more than power and stopping at nothing to obtain it. To them, it mattered none who died or what was lost. 

   “Oh? Still standing? You two must not be Seekers, then! If that’s the case, show us a good time!” She opened her arms, and behind her, even more, female Orcs appeared with attire and war paint similar to their leader's. They must be her personal troops, which meant that mortal or not, they were dangerous! “You lot enjoy telling each other names before you fight right? Linid of the Teeth Cutter Tribe, not that it will matter to either of you!” 

   Bellia and Bai never thought a barbarian would give their name as they gripped their weapons tight for the fight. Bai stepped forward, accepting the challenge. The knightess, however, dropped a small medallion with the Black Mare’s emblem on her squire’s hand. 

   “My lady…?” Dahlia looked up, confused, as she could see the almost solemn look in her mistress’ eyes beneath her helmet.

   Bellia hated to admit it, but the girl had shown prowess and courage in adversity. For such actions, she did deserve the chance to be knighted and join the ranks of her Order. Should the worst-case scenario occur, someone must live to tell what happened here. 

   “Find one of the remaining horses, return to the Alliance wall, and ride home. You’ve earned your place among us, Dahlia. Now go.” Bellia gripped her squire’s shoulder and squeezed it firmly, watching the girl’s conflicted expression as she wanted to refuse. “There is no time for argument; tell my tale. Now go, girl.” 

   With a gentle shove, she watched as her squire scrambled to her feet and ran off, circling the roots and towards an unlikely future. 

   ‘Goddesses protect her against her coming woes.’ Bellia prayed, even as the Maldoon continued to taunt them.

   “Tch, how touching. If you’re lucky, you and her might meet again in the breeding stockades, bleed ‘em girls!” Linid barked, pointing her weapon at them as her subordinates ran down the hill towards the two Vandyr.

   ‘Idiot, I cannot bear children.’ Bellia rolled her eyes but remained focused as she counted at least 30 bloodlust-filled attackers. 

   “It was a pleasure knowing you, knight,” Bai spoke with a smile on her face, her swords in hand. Even with her armor and once white blouse stained red, the Wei was still ready for a fight. Bellia gripped her spear and stood beside her with a nod, her helmet hiding her smirk. 

   “The pleasure was mine; I underestimated you. It seems the Vandyr in the Empire are worth their weight after all.” She chuckled softly, likely the last, as the group before them drew close. She murmured to herself, “Captain, I’m sorry I had to die like this.” 

   One of the raiders leaped towards Bellia, who swiftly raised her spear and piked her right through the chest. Meanwhile, Bai crouched below her and promptly cut down two other attackers, her blades singing as they sliced through flesh and armor. Tossing aside the corpse and ignoring the commonality in tactics between the Orcs and Goblins, Bellia used her long weapon to her advantage as she blocked and deflected blows from anyone foolish enough to engage her. 

   Sweat stung her eyes, but she ignored it just as she ignored the burning beneath her armor. Blood caked her body and weapon, but she moved entirely on instinct, allowing her training and prowess as a proud Vandyr to carry her through the battle. 

   Numbers were still stacked against her, however. 

   One would flank her and manage to slash her, getting right between the slats of her armor. These savage women meant business if they knew how to escape her sturdy defenses. With every slash and stab, she felt herself grow sluggish in her moments. Even if they were above mortals, a Vandyr could bleed out as easily as any other living creature or be overwhelmed.

   It’s just that they refused to do so lying down. 

   Occasionally, she would spot Zhao Bai, still fighting against the group. She noticed her contemporary sported a furiously flared white-striped tiger tail and ears at one point. Her hairpin was also gone, letting her raven black flow past her shoulders as she swung her blades. She had heard that Wei Vandyr could call upon their spirit animals to grant them even more power; to see it in practice was an educating experience. One thought she’d never be able to teach others in the West. 

   ‘I wonder if they’re soft,’ Bellia humored herself, laughing even as she decapitated another Orc. The battle group of the chieftess dwindled, but so did the energy of the two Vandyr. 

   That was when the chieftess made her move, nodding to the shaman. Said shaman pulled out a dagger, slicing her palm and speaking some archaic words to it before she smeared it across the eyes of the chieftess. Her muscles flexed harder, and the sadistic glint in her eyes became manic, fully intent on breaking the two women who had the misfortune of stepping on her turf. 

   With a terrifying war cry that shook the air, Bellia and Bai turned and watched as the chieftess stomped down the hill with thunderous and rapid steps. As she charged towards them, she smashed aside any of her subordinates unfortunate enough to be in her path. 

   Bellia knew this was hopeless, that for all her training and experience, she simply could not fight a prolonged engagement. If the chieftess had shown herself at the beginning of the battle, Bellia knew she could win. But now, while wounded and exhausted? She might as well throw off her weapon and armor and submit. 

   That doesn’t mean she will. Even as her body reached its upper limits, her fighting spirit would not break.

   So was the case with Bai as she growled and roared like a tiger while awaiting the rapidly closing-in chieftess. Both of them braced while Bellia pointed her spear forward to try and pike her to stop her in her tracks. Linid instead sidestepped her attack and smashed the weapon out of her hands, sending her axe head right into Bellia’s chest. She felt the plate of her armor crack, the strikes overpowering the protective enchantments and sending her skidding across the ground. Bai roared again as she unleashed a flurry of strikes, calling Bellia’s name and imploring her to get up.

   The knight didn’t hear her ally’s voice, though, as fear gripped her at the corners of her cracked confidence and blurred vision. This was the end; she was going to die here, and so was Bai. She prayed to the gods above, to her Lady. She asked; no, she begged for any help in this situation! 

   From above, the sky crackled with fire as an answer from the heavens crashed into the ground. 

 

…………………

 

   “Hmm…I expected it to launch me into the ocean or a city, not a battlefield.” Connor said to no one in particular as he emerged from his drop pod. With its purpose fulfilled, the capsule quickly melted in on itself, forming a puddle of black slag within a minute. 

   ‘Interesting natives.’ He thought to himself as he regarded the Orcs and…is that a Troll? Yup, big, green, and unnecessarily attractive? Usually, Orcs were the ugly ones, but these didn’t look half bad from a human standpoint. Anyway, they were in front of him while two women who were obviously on the losing side stood behind him. ‘Guess I don’t have to guess who is good and bad here.’

   “So,” He began, hands on his hips while looking at the warband. “I think you’ve all done enough. It's best to leave these two alone and continue your day with your lives intact.” 

   They all just stood staring at him, no one moving or saying anything except for the tiny bit of movement to his right. Pfft…too bad a sneak attack won’t work. Then, a slight clink came to his side, and he looked down to see the tip of a spear poking his armor. He looked up to the Orc, who tried to blindside him and clicked his tongue, wagging his finger like a disciplining mother.

   “You call that stabbing? Let me teach you about stabbing.” In a lightning-quick motion, his right hand formed into a blade, and he punched a hole clean through the chest of his attacker, hearing them gurgle on their blood before going limp. “Alright, that’s one dead for their mistake. Who else is going to-.” 

  “Kill it! Kill the golem!” The meanest-looking Orc woman he assumed was their leader shouted out, and he sighed, dropping the corpse still stuck to his hand. “Don’t just stand there, you damn fools, attack as one!”

   “Well, at least I got to have fun on my first day of waking up.” He chuckled under his helmet with a grin before charging headlong to meet the warband, not noticing the other women staring at him, frozen in surprise. 

   He took to them headlong, not even bothering with weapons as he engaged in hand-to-hand combat. Weapons shattered, armor splintered, and bones definitely turned to powder as he unleashed a deadly combo. It mostly took one punch or one kick to defeat someone before he moved on to the next opponent. At one point, even a small group of green midgets, Goblins he recalled, tried to attack, but the brutality of his assault scared them and made them rout. 

   He even grabbed one by the ankle and used his little shrieking body to cave in the head of another Orc. That got a good laugh out of him even as he continued to break bones. He usually took no pleasure in getting his hands dirty, but after 2300 years on ice, he needed to do something to get the blood flowing. 

   And flowed it did. 

   Their weapons either glanced off the armor or broke from their failed attempts to pierce it, the nanites so tightly woven and dense that nothing short of a nuke would damage it or him. Dodging was the standard reaction, but their weapons were so pathetic there was no point in wasting energy.

   The sensors on his suit ticked, indicating magic was gathering behind the Troll and their leader, the only two still standing. A wave of red energy washed over them, and they grew even fiercer as they both ran at him with killing intent. The Troll, its footfalls thundering across the ground to the point it was leaving potholes, raised its massive spiked club with one hand and brought it down on Connor. 

   He raised his hand and caught the club in it, the force of the impact blowing his cape in the wind but leaving him unmoved and unharmed. “That's all you got, big guy?” 

   The Troll pressed down on him with its strength, the muscles in its arms bulging immensely. Meanwhile, the chieftess came from around its side and swung her axe at his waist. A trio of daggers flew through the air, embedding themselves in her arm and halting her attack momentarily. 

   “Rah! Damn whores! I’ll split you in two!” She shouted at the two still behind him. Connor knew they were there since his sensors told him such, watching as she blindly followed her rage and ran past him to deal with those two. 

   ’ Shit, gotta kill this one fast.’ Connor gripped the bludgeon of the Troll, applying pressure and visibly cracking the wood. It exploded into a pile of splinters and jagged metal, the Troll looking at the handle in confusion. Dropping it, it raised its left arm and landed a punch square in Connor’s chest. The force moved him…barely, like an inch. He shoved the arm aside and returned the favor to one of the Troll’s kneecaps. Black blood and bone fragments sprayed as the creature yelled and fell backward, Connor promptly kicking it across the jaw and sending its lower jawbone flying. 

   Behind him, he heard the sounds of clashing steel, while in front of him, the Troll slowly regenerated its lost flesh. A tube emerged from Connor’s left forearm, with which he pointed it at the Troll and launched a projectile into its still regenerating mouth. Smoke and white hot flashes emerged as the creature’s head burned, its yells of pain silenced as the fire enveloped its head. 

   “To think White Phosphorus was once considered illegal in war.”. Connor mused as he turned to help the other two women, watching as they fought a losing battle against the chieftess. He stepped to intervene, but his sensors picked up mana flowing from right below him. Around him, a mass of roots and vines sprang forth, entangling him and holding him!  He looked over his shoulder and saw the shaman with a ball of green energy in her hand; she was the one who was doing this! 

   He efficiently tore free of the snare trap, but with every step he took to get closer, another mass of vegetation would entangle him! 

   “Alright fuck this.” His projectile launcher deployed again, and he launched another incendiary shot toward the shaman; he’d not bothered to check if it hit her or not as the smoke obscured her. This time, when he ripped free, no more vegetation stopped him. 

   “Agh!” The knight cried out as the chieftess’ axe split her weapon in two! He needed to act quickly as the tiger woman’s swords cracked by the minute with every attack!

   “Hey! Over your shoulder, you psychotic bitch!” Connor yelled out, managing to get the crazed Orc’s attention. He closed the distance in a blur, electricity crackling beneath him as his shoulder charged into her sternum with an audible crunch. She skidded across the ground, and he gave no chance for recovery as he loomed over her and brought his foot down towards her head! 

   It didn’t connect, though; instead, his heel hit the ground, chunks of dirt and gravel flying about. He looked around, extending the range of his sensors to see where his opponent could’ve run off to. Two blips appeared on the scanner, rapidly going further away from his position. 

   ‘Next time, I’ll kill that magic user first.’ Connor made a note to target the spellcaster in general, not just the Orcish ones. He was sure there would be a next time as he figured these were the kind of people who hold grudges. 

   He ensured they were entirely gone before he turned his attention to the two women who looked worse for wear. Already, his suit started to prepare medical syringes to inject them with as they were severely beaten and bloody. The knight braced herself against her spear while the cat woman stabbed her swords into the ground and leaned on them. 

   His suit, consisting primarily of nanites aside from the alloy plating he spent years crafting, housed a sizable swarm of extra bots to reinforce the armor if it started to receive heavy damage or craft supplies like medical syringes. He approached the two of them, who looked up wearily at the armored being who had just single-handedly destroyed an Orc warband and made their leader flee, albeit not of her own volition. 

   The syringes finished synthesizing, forming in his left palm. They were small rectangular barrels with red applicators and hubs that housed the needles themselves; all the while, the actual solution glowed a soft green. He held them up to the women as they visibly flinched at his movement, unknowing if he’d finish them off.

   “Easy now; if I were going to hurt you, I wouldn’t have fought those bastards off now, would I?” He spoke to try and ease their tension, even if his helmet altered his voice a bit. “Now, you can either stand there staring at me or allow me to help both of you. Which will it be, ladies?” 

   Both of them stared at him a moment before glancing at each other. They both nodded and turned back to him. 

   “Let’s start with you first; you look worse off than her. Helmet off; this needs to go in your neck.” He told the knight and watched as she pulled her helmet off her head, letting a mess of red strands spill out and stick to her face from sweat. 

   'Not bad, quite a beauty too.’ Connor eyed the scar on the knight’s lip before he knelt on one knee. “You’re gonna feel a pinch, but you’ll feel the effects almost immediately.” 

   She wordlessly nodded, craning her neck and brushing her hair aside. Connor pressed the red tip of the hub against her neck and administered the medical nanites, watching as she winced slightly but remained steady. Then, the data slowly started to pour in, and he read her vitals on his HUD. They told him everything, from what parts of her body were damaged and what they were focusing on first to increase her chances of survival. Lacerations, cuts, and a few cracked ribs. It was a miracle she was even standing, leaving Connor wondering what kind of training she had to be this durable. 

   “Thank you…Divine Guardian.” She muttered softly, turning away while rubbing the spot of the injection. For a moment, he was confused by the title she had given him, Divine Guardian. Did she think he was an angel descending from the heavens to bring down righteous fury on evil? 

   Well, she was half right. An angel? Far from it. Here to kick in evil teeth? That he was here to do. 

   “Don’t mention it.” Connor stood up, turning to the cat girl who stared at him. Even with her lips pursed, he could see in her eyes that she was forming a bevy of questions to ask him, yet stifled her voice. He also quietly administered the meds to her, and she thanked him in turn. 

   Any of his fellow Mirmen would’ve had to either use magic or actual medical supplies to help these girls. Connor liked to keep it practical and straightforward with technology. Helping people is one of the core tenets of Lord Krigamir’s teachings, no matter how little you are assisting. Any life is worth saving, and even one lost is unacceptable.

   That was precisely what Connor intended to do: help people in any way he could. He had the ultimate tool at his fingertips to fulfill that goal and more, even if it was one person at a time. 

   He watched as both women slowly stood to their feet, likely in awe at how quickly their strength returned to them as the nanites in their bodies worked to repair them. A smile formed under his helmet, satisfied at the outcome and performance of his invention.

   “Now then, let’s start with names…”