"What do you mean now?! Why, how and- who?"
Munir stopped at that last word, giving it particular emphasis.
"We have... no idea, sir. I'm sorry." Yallio replied, unable to give a satisfactory explanation.
"The assassins. The strangely big attack. It was obvious that they would do it, but- already?" His initial anger faded, leaving room for acceptance of the inevitable.
"We have around an hour before they get here, I suggest we immediately begin setting up the defenses." The messenger took the initiative.
"Right. We'll fight them in the open, we can't risk damaging Gurendam even further."
- Munir replied, thinking about what strategy to adopt -
"Get everyone: Atsura, Sae, Metzek- no, not Metzek, just send someone and tell him to heal Harrock as fast as possible. I'll call Freya, you tell Yuna and Satyo to also come here."
"Immediately!"
Yallio lost no time, and went to deliver the message as quickly as he could.
Five minutes later:
"What's so urgent? Another meeting already?" Atsura spoke, clearly annoyed by Munir's rush.
(They also wanted me... why's that though?) Satyo thought as he scanned the serious faces that surrounded him.
Yuna stood next to her mother, clearly in distress from all the urgency, while Freya leaned against a wall, her arms crossed, watching the scene unfold.
"We have no time, so don't even think of arguing."
- Munir began the explanation with this premise. -
"Nebas is marching toward us, they'll be here in an hour. We don't know who it is exactly, we just know that it's a lot of them."
"Just send Inuzuki to kill them all. I'm sure The Blue Death will be up to the task." Atsura said, glancing at Sae.
"Atsura."
- The latter calmly said. -
"If this were the case, there wouldn't be such an urgency. Munir, they're not just sending a Death Commander, am I right?" He questioned.
"I don't know the names, but I'm sure there's at least a Judge."
(Judge?)
Satyo thought about asking more about it, but given the little time at their disposal, decided not to interrupt.
"You should still be more than capable of dealing with a council member, Inuzuki." Atsura said.
(A council? I know it's not the time for things like this, but... that's so cool.) Satyo repressed his childish excitement, understanding its stupidity.
"But we don't know whether it will be one." - Freya joined the conversation. - "What if they just send the whole Empire? What will we do then?"
"This is why we must rally as many warriors as possible." Munir replied.
Satyo, pressed with a question that lingered in his mind, decided to join the discussion too.
"I don't know if I'm missing something, but couldn't we send a scout to get their exact numbers?" He gulped, hoping not to make a bad impression.
"You see, Satyo, unfortunately it isn't that easy."
- Sae pointed out the flaw in his reasoning, which he couldn't have known beforehand. -
"Their whole army is currently covered by a layer of thick Dark Energy, which obscures everything: we are only able to understand that they are coming, but any further detail is impossible to obtain."
"But couldn't Atsura break through it? She seems like a master of dark magic."
"And I am."
- Atsura promptly replied. -
"If you so wish, I can try to dissolve it, but I warn you all: might it be the case that I'm not able to get through, we're going to have to prepare for a very bloody war, and not only on the enemy side."
Everyone, although not showing it, shivered internally at her words.
"Alright then." - Freya took the initiative - "I'll come with you, Atsu, let's go kick their asses."
"Mind you: we're not going to 'kick their asses', just to understand whether it'll be a battle or a war..." - Atsura began explaining, but satisfied the eager Captain in the end. - "...if their forces aren't too much of a threat, however, I'll let you have some fun." She sighed.
"Freya."
- Munir interrupted. -
"Tune down your enthusiasm. Whatever happens, don't take any unnecessary risks: if anything goes wrong, come back immediately." He sternly concluded.
"Yeah, don't worry."
A moment of silence passed, after which the scouting pair dismissed itself and went on with the mission. The remaining members kept discussing and, most of all, prepared for the worst.
"What are we going to do?" Satyo asked, now feeling more free to do so, as the most imposing figures had disappeared.
"You are definitely not ready to fight, Satyo, so it's better if you remain with Munir: he'll tell you what to do." - Sae explained. - "As for you, Yuna, how far do your combat capabilities go?"
"I can fight." Yuna confidently replied, taking a step forward.
"No."
- Munir shut down her enthusiasm. -
"You will not fight. You're not ready yet, and besides, your mother would never allow it."
"Really, I can fight. I am ready." She tried again.
"Sorry, Yuna, but the answer remains the same. You'll assist me and Satyo in the strategic field." Although she was let down, that final sentence partially revived her excitement.
(Strategy? I don't know if I'll be able to help, but I hope so.)
"Should I start organizing the soldiers?" Sae asked.
"Yes, but I hope we won't need them."
---
Hills far away from Gurendam:
"Shit! I hate your teleports, Atsu!" Freya growled.
"Did you prefer going on foot?"
"Ah, alright, alright."
"Stop. I can already feel the aura." Atsura gestured for her to stop and shut up immediately.
Silence.
More silence.
Atsura closed her eyes and breathed deeply, fully focusing on detecting the exact location of the marching army.
She continued to do so for a couple of minutes, before accomplishing that first task.
"Found them. Over there, follow me." She pointed to her right and blitzed away in an instant, the excited Freya following behind, eager to take part in the upcoming battle.
They sprinted across the green hills for a while, surrounded by a beautiful landscape of colorful nature, the azure sky covering their heads.
Breaths of fresh air filled their lungs, as a sense of profound relaxation enveloped their bodies.
It was, at least, a nice treat: being able to feel the calming scent of the gentle wind, before having to fill their nostrils with the disgusting stench of blood.
"Here they are."
Atsura said, pointing towards a barely visible distortion of the environment.
It was a weird visual effect, a glitch in reality, that only the keenest eye could notice.
"Wha-"
"Quiet."
- Atsura interrupted Freya before she could even say anything. -
"Let me focus."
Freya disliked being ordered to do something, especially by a peer, but she knew this wasn't the time to complain and stayed silent.
Atsura closed her eyes again, plunging into an inner world of deep concentration.
Time passed slowly, very slowly.
Her every breath felt eternal, as her focus reached its peak: apparently, this was a master of the Dark Arts at work.
Freya temporarily put aside her excitement and observed Atsura as she tried to destroy the concealing barrier: she was genuinely impressed by her unwavering calm and concentration, silently admiring her.
Seconds passed, slowly...
minutes passed, slowly...
and then, finally...
"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!"
An extremely loud thunder was heard in the distance, immediately capturing Freya's attention: she turned toward it and realized that, from the apparent nowhere, a small army of one hundred men, all clad in black armor, had appeared.
Before Atsura could even speak, she heard the sound of a sword being unsheathed behind her, paired with a slight chuckle.
She sighed, understanding that it was too late to stop her bloodthirsty companion; before letting her go, however, she gave her one last warning:
"Go, but don't exaggerate. If it gets serious, I'll intervene and take you back to the village."
Freya nodded, before dashing towards the small army.
As she got closer, she discerned their commander: a woman, wearing brown cargo pants and a celeste long-sleeved shirt, a black cape enveloping her body.
She had long, blond hair tied into a low ponytail that fell on her back, letting a couple of symmetrical tufts of hair hang freely near her face, and bright brown eyes with slightly extended corners, giving her a peculiarly beautiful appearance.
All her lineaments were sharp and perfect, her skin smooth and candid, her hands slim and delicate.
Freya jumped in front of her, leaving a dozen meters of distance, and interrupting the soldiers' path.
"Freya, second of the Three Great Captains." The woman muttered.
"Right here. Who the fuck are you? Never seen ya before." The Captain harshly replied, merely curious to understand her opponent's identity.
"It's not important. Get away from us while you still can." She denied the information, slowly walking closer to Freya.
She did not hold any weapon, slightly confusing Freya, although only for a moment: after all, she already knew someone who fought extremely well without the use of any equipment.
"Hahahaha! I'd have killed you anyways, just wanted to know what bitch I was fighting." She replied, grinning behind her mask, as she got into her fighting stance.
She held her scimitar with one hand, keeping the other beside her waist, while placing her left foot forward.
"If you desperately want to... fine, let's fight."
The woman calmly replied, before quickly raising her hand and pointing her index finger toward the Captain.
A small, purple sphere of energy was then released at extreme speed, barely giving Freya any time to react.
She was, however, not caught off-guard, as she skillfully deflected the projectile with her sword, sending it flying into the ground.
As soon as it made contact with earth, it violently exploded, producing a massive shockwave.
The soldiers had already fallen back, realizing that this was not at all their fight: although they were at a safe distance, the blast was so strong that they still felt the ground tremble beneath their feet.
(This hoe's strong... I still can't recognize her face though.) Freya thought as she stepped back.
The mysterious commander proceeded to attack again, now unleashing a volley of colored spheres from each finger of her right hand.
Freya sidestepped to the right - her long black hair fluttering behind - while rapidly deflecting two projectiles with the sharp blade of her scimitar, this time sending them away to her left.
She decided to wait for the woman's move, as she wanted to understand her capabilities before going on a risky attack.
The strike came quickly, in the form of five spheres, all of different colors.
As the commander attacked, her feet did not move, her body was completely still, and her eyelids were slightly lowered, marking her state of deep tranquility.
To Freya's mind came one rational thought:
(Maybe I should be more careful with her, she's not even flinching while throwing such powerful attacks.)
But that lonely spark of reason was smothered by the raging fire of adrenalized emotion that raged within her, leading her to take this battle still too lightly.
She didn't have the patience to wait anymore, and so decided to go on the offensive: she struck cleanly with her sword, aiming for the woman's torso.
Her slash met only air, however, as the target backflipped smoothly, helping herself by placing a hand on the ground behind her, while throwing another volley of spheres with the other.
Freya blocked each sphere with a lightning-fast motion, then sliding in a comment:
"You're good."
Before trying to attack again.
This time, she jumped in the air, quickly twirling while striking with the help of her motion.
The woman did not dodge this time, instead resorting to a risky deflection: she suddenly extended her left leg, kicking Freya's hand and loosening the grip on her scimitar, while also disrupting the attack.
Without losing a moment, she sent a vertical flurry of projectiles at her, perfectly tracing a line across her body.
Freya was quick to come back to her senses and managed to swiftly evade, using what little momentum she had left to jump right and avoid the strike.
A series of blows followed, too fast to be followed by the frightened yet amazed soldiers, but almost too boring for Atsura, who enjoyed the show from a distance: of course, had there been the need for it, she was ready to intervene decisively.
Then, suddenly, the roles of the fight changed: the enemy commander went on an aggressive offense, giving Freya no time to rest or counterattack, forcing her to fully focus on deflecting and avoiding the attacks.
(You got pissed or what?)
She thought while neatly defending, beautifully chaining acrobatic dodges and elegant scimitar strikes to repel the magical spheres.
But there was no sign of anger in the woman's face: her expression was still cool and collected, her movements precisely choreographed, and she didn't say a single word.
She also wasn't showing any fatigue: her speed had remained the same from the start, and her strength hadn't lowered by one bit.
Freya, being a very proficient warrior, was also unwavering: she managed to channel her adrenaline and excitement into strength and speed, only becoming stronger the more fun she had.
(I missed this so much!) She thought, silently grinning.
"Hey, wanna step this up a bit? Wouldn't want it to become boring, eh?!" Her next line was a tad less silent, as she got only more engulfed in her crazed fighting fever.
For her, this was pure fun: like an exciting videogame match, or a tense game of football, with never-ending twists and mysteries; it was a bit more serious than those activities, but she was always late to realize it.
At least, however, she was good at it: the battle kept fueling her body, granting her incessant energy, which she utilized effectively by turning it into dynamic combinations of spinning blows.
Her opponent was not able to keep attacking, being forced to retreat to a defensive stance, cautiously waiting for each of the Captain's moves.
Up until now, she had skillfully evaded every attack with elegant acrobatics, while also seizing the window to throw in a counterattack whenever she could.
Sometimes, she disrupted Freya's attacks with precise blows to her hand, redirecting the energy of her attacks and messing up her balance.
But she had never...
(Fuck!)
Freya thought, totally caught by surprise at her opponent's unexpected move.
(Mmh... interesting. I wasn't aware of its full capabilities.)
Atsura thought, recognizing the kind of magic and closely analyzing the fight.
The Captain was blasted away with immense force, barely managing to mitigate the damage with her sword, and suffering numerous sharp cuts and bruises.
The mysterious woman had, instead of normally avoiding the attack, thrown herself right into it, creating a small circle made of five spheres and using it as an explosive shield.
What was so surprising to Freya was that she had both studied and fought against this type of magic, but never saw or heard of anything similar.
"Aha! Now you're getting serious!"
She grinned, quickly recovering from the blow, her grit only growing larger.
She got right back into the fight, striking even harder and faster than before.
Her fighting style was peculiarly stunning to observe: one could feel the boiling excitement that lay within her, yet she perfectly balanced that brute strength with an amazingly elegant set of movements.
Her swift and fluent acrobatics, precisely chained together with strikes to create a sublime equilibrium of forces, were a joy to the eyes; it was easily understandable that Freya possessed superb fighting abilities, although her personality had some flaws.
Atsura, looking at her partner's battle dance, smiled a little, as if she was a master proud of her pupil.
Freya struck, and struck hard: the vibrations of her sword were so powerful they reached the far-away soldiers, causing them to shiver in fear.
The woman had now decided to change plans: she would no longer merely dodge, but also block and counterattack, utilizing her spheres' versatility to the fullest.
She defended against an attack by clashing weapons - or spheres in her case - with Freya, generating an enormous shockwave that turned into a loud, distorted sound, so strong that it shook the earth, sending rocks and dust flying everywhere.
This time, the explosive shield did not explode, instead remaining intact and unscathed after the powerful clash.
Unwilling to lose a good opportunity, the enemy commander attempted to keep Freya locked in that position by exerting internal pressure against her scimitar's blade and creating an unbalance of forces.
Then, she rapidly cast a volley of projectiles at her with her other hand, hoping to punch a hole in her chest and end the fight.
But, well, Freya was just warming up.
The strong yet elusive Captain swiftly sidestepped to the right, regaining full hold of her sword while grabbing the woman's left wrist; at the same time, she tried to debilitate her with a rapid kick to the knee while also sliding the blade along her shoulder in an attempt to reach the neck and, well...
...decapitate her.
Unfortunately enough, this whole sequence mostly took place in her mind, as she only got to the wrist-grabbing part before getting rudely interrupted.
Decapitation not being at the top of her wish list, the woman quickly lowered her head and avoided the blow, while using the motion to throw a roundhouse kick at Freya, hitting her right in the stomach and sending her flying back.
The fight was reset, if only for a moment; wishing for some verbal entertainment, Freya seized the moment to engage in 'friendly conversation', although she seemed to be the more extroverted of the two.
"C'mon, just answer me. Who the fuck are you?" She asked, casually standing with a guard so low it might have very well been underground.
The woman brought her sight down and brushed some dirt off her shirt, before looking at Freya again with her usual calm and serious expression.
"Why would you care?" She questioned back, somehow willing to converse rather than immediately continue fighting.
(Oh, the princess wants to talk now, eh? Good, I'mma try to get whatever I can from her.) Freya thought, having surprisingly strategic goals.
"'Cause I wanna know who the hell I'm fighting against."
The woman looked down for a moment, then back up again. She thought, for some reason.
After a moment of brief reflection, she muttered:
"That's..." - Her voice trembled for a moment. - "...none of your business." She concluded, a spark of rediscovered determination glowing in her eyes.
She then made a quick gesture with her left hand, making a wide purple barrier appear to Freya's right.
Without losing a moment, she threw a volley of five spheres at her, while simultaneously sending another burst of projectiles with her other hand toward the newly generated barrier.
Freya was almost caught off-guard by her unexpected move and, although easily parrying the first series of attacks, nearly got hit by the other five spheres, which had bounced off the magical wall and come at her from unpredictable angles.
She narrowly avoided them by smoothly zigzagging across their trajectories' gaps, keeping that nonchalant touch of elegance in the battle, although her mind was a little less elegant and calm.
(Whoa, this was damn close... shit, I don't wanna get serious here, shouldn't we come back?) A seed of doubt sprouted in her mind, adding a flavour of uncertainty to her actions and movements.
Her usual confidence and fervor had suddenly vanished, forcing her to defend against her now relentless enemy.
Atsura, noticing that sluggishness in her motions, perfectly understood what was happening.
(Shit, shit, shit! What do I do...)
Freya thought as she slowly collapsed under the immense pressure of her opponent's constant attacks, her defense getting slower and clumsier.
Then, one single sphere managed to intercept her path, leaving her unable to block or dodge it.
She got ready to take the direct hit and suffer the painful consequences in the split second available, gritting her teeth and stiffening her muscles.
...
A thump was heard.
Both combatants were overwhelmed with completely opposite emotions.
Atsura stood between them while holding the magical projectile in her hand, as if it were merely a harmless toy.
"We have to go back immediately! Follow me back to the Capital!"
The woman immediately shouted at her soldiers, recognizing her opponent and understanding that fighting was no longer a possibility.
She turned around and sprinted away, always keeping her guard high to protect her army against any attack.
The soldiers were surprisingly quick, almost managing to keep up with their commander: they were a much better-trained unit than the one sent to Gurendam earlier.
Atsura stood there and watched them flee, as she dissolved the sphere, making it disappear almost instantly.
"Atsu, why are you not killing them? They're such an easy target." Freya asked.
"Who knows... maybe they have families to come back to. Anyways, they're not a threat, slaughtering them won't change much."
"Mmh? You, caring about their families? That's really not like you."
"It's not a problem right now, killing them was just a waste of time. Let's go back to the village."
---
A few minutes later, at the Gurendam castle:
"Heya, it was only a-"
Freya, having just teleported to the castle, tried to inform everyone of the false alarm, Atsura following behind her.
"Go to the hospital, now! No questions!"
Munir, joined by Satyo and Yuna, rudely interrupted her, yelling orders at her.
Although that tone and urgency teased her nerves a lot, she understood that getting angry was not the right decision, and immediately followed the orders.
"Atsura, you clear the square!"
Munir followed up by granting Atsura also a task, which she annoyedly followed.
"We have the hospital and square covered, what about the outer part of the village?" Satyo asked, continuing the strategic discussion which had commenced earlier.
"Don't worry, Satyo, that's already been destroyed from the previous battle: there won't be anyone there." Yuna replied.
"I..." - Munir began explaining in a low voice, as he realized an important thing. - "There's a really big problem."
"What is it?" Satyo and Yuna asked simultaneously.
"Sae's not coming, I can't track or contact him: I'm afraid you two will have to help."
Satyo, disregarding the last part of Munir's statement, questioned in concern:
"Sae? It means he's got into a fight, but..." - He looked at him in the eyes. - "Who the hell would be able to keep him so busy?"
"Calm down, Satyo: just because he's busy now, doesn't mean he's fighting someone powerful; he might be simply slaughtering weak enemies, or something like that." Yuna tried to prevent him from overthinking.
"I sure hope so... anyways, you said we had to help, right?" He came back to Munir's previous point.
"Yes: I need you to track Sae and get him back. He should have been near the training fields, but I'm not sure if that's the case right now. As I said before: come back as soon as you're in danger, your lives are far more important than this mission." Munir replied, underlining the importance of their safety.
"I know where that is. Let's go, Satyo." Yuna smiled at him with determination, filling his heart with courage.
---
At the hospital:
"They're too many! Why the fuck are they going all-out now?!" Metzek shouted in frustration, taking cover behind the still-injured Harrock, who slaughtered the countless assassins that came their way.
"I don't know, but don't worry: I'm sure Munir and the others have everything under control." The Captain determinedly replied while slashing at the figures.
They were cornered in an L-junction inside the building, endless enemies slowly walking towards them: Harrock was barely able to stand, and Metzek was not at all a fighter, so their chances were very slim.
The Captain, trying his hardest to resist and protect the defenseless medic, didn't spot one specific assassin, which got scarily close to Metzek.
Although he wasn't a soldier, the Medic kept his cool, held his karambit knife, and confidently slashed at the figure as it was readying its attack, turning it into a cloud of black smoke.
"Are you okay?"
Harrock loudly asked, while still slaughtering one enemy after another.
"Don't worry, I'm good. But how are we gonna get outta here?" Metzek said, keeping his guard high and killing the occasional assassin that made it past Harrock.
"I'm sorry, but my energies are extremely low: if I were to use any power, I'd surely collapse from fatigue immediately, or worse... we're going to have to hold."
Several minutes of constant terror passed, as they tried to hold the position, killing assassins without rest: the slightest distraction would have easily caused their defense to fall, thus forcing them to stay fully alert the whole time.
The figures, however, would not stop coming: Harrock had already killed a large number of them, but both halls were still full of assassins, creeping relentlessly toward the unlucky duo.
"We... we can't continue like this. I'll count to three, then I'll charge through the left hallway, and you'll follow behind." Harrock proposed a final plan.
"Charge?! You're gonna get killed!" Metzek worriedly replied, attempting to stop his suicidal idea.
"Haha, you don't know me well enough! This is far too little to kill me, and I still have something to do before I rest forever..." The charismatic Captain brushed off his worries with a determined statement, before getting ready for the charge.
"1...
2...
3!"
As soon as that last word left his mouth, he threw himself at the gigantic swarm of assassins: he immediately slaughtered a dozen, then broadly swung his sword in front of him, trying to eliminate as many figures as possible with each strike.
A massive cloud of black smoke engulfed them, trapping them in the hellish corridor of torment: as the assassins were completely silent, they suddenly appeared from unknown directions, granting very little reaction time to Metzek and Harrock.
Nevertheless, they still tried to power through, with the Captain leading at the front: he wasn't able to react to every attack, and simply blocked many stabs with his thick armor, always attempting to stagger or kill the figures, in order to make the passage safe for the medic behind him.
They ventured deeper into the hallway of endless ambushes, trying their hardest - Metzek especially - to repress the immense fear that exponentially grew within them.
He didn't just follow the Captain, though, but tried to help in any way he could, keeping his guard up and paranoidly waiting for any attacks that might escape Harrock's watch.
One came, but he didn't even see the attacker.
He barely ducked to avoid the blade, then slashed in its general direction: he had no idea whether he had killed the figure, his only meter of measurement being what little confidence he had at the moment.
Onward they went, until another blow interrupted the Medic's path.
"Agh!"
He groaned as he felt a knife's sharp blade tapping on his shoulder bone.
Although the sudden pain had severely staggered his focus, he quickly reacted and slashed in the assassin's direction: this time, he knew that he was successful, as the knife's handle had no longer hands gripping it.
He bit the bullet, grabbed the handle and pulled the knife right out of his shoulder, an acute pain jolting through his body.
"Hold on tight, we should be almost done!"
Harrock, having heard his groan but unable to check on him, tried to reassure him.
They were all false hopes, however, as he had no idea how close they were to the exit: if only he had enough strength to use his powers...
The encouraging statement didn't last long, as their hope crumbled more and more with each step they took, with each assassin they killed, as any beam of saving light was invisible, suffocated by the thick, black fog.
With no tangible progress toward safety, negative emotions began to overtake them, unable to be repressed by any logical optimism.
(Fuck, fuck, fu... I think this is... it? Already? I didn't expect to die like this, smothered by a horde of weak-ass enemies. C'mon, I deserve more...)
Metzek's mind had clearly given up, and for good reasons: Harrock was barely able to fight, only getting weaker with each step, and they were still trapped in the horrifying limbo of the unknown.
It is far, far harder to maintain hope when the destination becomes a hope itself.
When the only good outcome gets enveloped in a thick mist, when the only certainty is the one given birth to by your own mind, when each subsequent step becomes a coin toss between the ground and a deadly trap...
That is the moment when all hope crumbles, when the giant woodpile of dreams burns, and becomes a heap of black ash.
"Metzek!"
- Harrock suddenly shouted, having sensed his companion's surrender. -
"Pull yourself together, for fuck's sake! Do you really think we're gonna die because of these shitheads?!"
His aggressive tone and harsh words immediately made Metzek snap back to reality, making him realize:
"Right! We're too good to die here!"
Harrock smiled behind his helmet as he heard his partner's determined voice, before making an important and necessary decision.
"Look." - He slashed at an enemy. - "Promise me you'll take care of me when I'm done, alright?"
"Sure- wait, no! You'll-"
Metzek understood his intention, his mind overwhelmed with worry for the brave Captain.
"Chess Art, First Stage: The Pa-"
His words were suddenly interrupted, by...
"I'm comin' fuckers!!!"
...the very loud voice of a familiar person, who approached them at alarming speed, slaughtering every assassin in her path.
Both their eyes suddenly lit up with joy and relief, a relaxed smile forming on their faces: their fears vaporized, as they stood still and enjoyed the moment to the fullest.
The black smoke slowly faded, finally brightening the infernal corridor again: every corpse had completely vanished, and they were left speechless before a rather talkative ally.
"Whatcha doin' standing there? We got something to take care of."
"Freya... thank you for coming, you saved us." Harrock calmly thanked their saviour.
She was tempted to disregard the formalities and move on with her mission, but seeing the horrid state of the two, decided to be a little softer on them.
"Don't worry: I'd never leave you to die here. Sorry for arriving so late."
She smiled behind her mask and said with a surprisingly gentle voice: maybe she too had a delicate side.
The one who truly wanted to thank her the most, however, was Metzek: after fully losing hope, the sudden light at the end of the tunnel made him so happy that he almost cried.
He held his tears, but didn't hold a single bit of his gratitude toward the red angel.
"Freya, thank you so much... I thought it was the end for me..."
- He fell to his knees, overwhelmed with emotion. -
"Thank you, thank you, thank you..."
He looked up at her, a sincere smile on his face, his tone tending toward a sad- or better said, relieved note.
Freya didn't expect the usually sarcastic medic to show such intense emotions, and thus didn't know how to properly react: luckily, her harsh side did not prevail, and she yet again managed to show unexpected kindness.
"Don't underestimate Gurendam: do you really think that we'd let our best medic die?"
At those kind words, Metzek's eyes glimmered in gratitude: knowing that he was valued so highly filled him with resolve again, making him also realize that...
"There's no time to lose."
- He said while getting up, a determined smile on his face. -
"What do we have to do, Freya?"
"I like you better this way." - She smirked. - "The square is full of assassins, but Atsu's there, and I doubt you two would be able to help her: it's better if you go to Munir, he's in the castle; I'll go see how Atsu's doin'."
At the square:
(I'll find him this time...)
Atsura thought as she effortlessly demolished hundreds of assassins, constantly searching for the mysterious summoner.
She jumped in the air to get a better view, and cast an enormous ray of dark energy in the square's center, slaughtering a hundred figures with extreme ease.
She kept doing so until the square - or most of it - was devoid of enemies, but that was only to find her elusive target: aside from the village's protection, she had a personal need to seek out and eliminate the imposter herself.
Now far from danger, she closed her eyes to focus, entering her usual state of profound concentration: this time, she was sure about it.
She was sure that she would have found-
"Sssshhhh......"
But the traitor was the one who found her.
"!"
Atsura opened her eyes, to see a figure rushing at her: it resembled an assassin, except it had a spiral pattern on its mask, wore a robe split into two halves of black and white respectively, and wielded an ornate guandao as a weapon.
She swiftly dodged the imminent blow with a quick sidestep to the left, before immediately counterattacking with a ray of energy, deliberately weak and slow, to test the figure's capabilities.
It didn't even need to dodge, as it simply stood still and sustained the attack with zero injuries.
(That's him, I'm sure about it.) She thought, excited at having finally found her prey.
Assuming that she was still the hunter, that is.
"Who are you?" She asked, hoping for a response.
"I don't know... what do you think?" It replied with a distorted voice, standing still in the middle of the battlefield.
(Great, he talks.)
- Atsura hid her growing enthusiasm. -
"Are you the one who summoned all of these assassins?" She coldly questioned.
"Oh no, you found me... what will I do now?"
- It jokingly replied. -
"But I am curious about one thing... how long will you last?" It pronounced those terrifying words.
Hopefully, it was either a bluff, or it didn't know who it was fighting.
(I have to keep him alive: I'll extract those secrets from him in any way possible, I can't afford to go overkill.) Atsura thought, fully ignoring its taunt, as she knew her strength was way above anyone else's.
Or was it?
The figure swirled its weapon with impressive speed, creating a giant tornado made of pure Dark Energy, which proceeded to move in Atsura's direction.
Luckily for the village, they were in an open area, so no buildings were immediately destroyed by the 'wind' giant.
(Fighting with the Dark Arts, of course.)
The puzzle's pieces were finally coming together, as Atsura only grew more and more excited to have finally found her target.
She paid no special attention to the enormous mass of Dark Energy that came toward her, as she calmly placed her hand in front of her.
Then, after a moment, she closed it.
The tornado disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving the battlefield empty, except for her opponent, who stood still and waited.
Was it already expecting it?
Atsura opened her hand again, and a lightning-fast ray of energy left her palm immediately, heading toward the nonchalant figure.
As before, it didn't block, it didn't dodge: it simply took the attack, and surprisingly sustained no damage.
(He's not weak, but that's obvious: he's the one who spawned so many assassins and gave me a very annoying headache.)
The mysteriously strong figure decided to switch fighting style, suddenly appearing before Atsura and quickly slashing at her.
She calmly dodged backwards, unimpressed by its speed, before rushing back at it and striking with her bare hand.
This time, it blocked the blow with its weapon's blade: did it mean that a mere hand-chop was more powerful than the previous attacks?
Atsura promptly created a veil of Dark Energy to protect her hand, which locked itself with the blade, leaving them face-to-face.
In the little time that she had, she attempted to come up with a strategy to avoid killing the figure, while it extended its other hand toward her neck, covered by a layer of pitch-black matter.
Instead of retreating, she grabbed its wrist with her free hand, locking them yet again in an impasse.
(The mask, I have to destroy it now.)
She thought, wanting to reveal its identity, assuming it was even a human being in the first place.
She tightened her grip on its wrist, trying to crush it with her bare, slender hand.
Impressively, it was working, so much so that her opponent immediately backed away, creating a vast gap between them.
All part of her plan.
She did nothing. She stood there, looking like she had concluded her attack and was ready for another round.
And, in fact, she was done with her attack, except...
it wasn't done with itself.
As the figure prepared to strike again, it felt a strong blow to its face, generating a shockwave beneath it that heavily shook the ground.
It didn't even flinch, but...
its mask cracked.
Atsura narrowly held herself from grinning, as she seized the moment to fully shatter its concealment and finally reveal the traitor's face.
She jumped in the air and sent a dense volley of powerful attacks at it: spheres that exploded in such a potent way they distorted vision, massive rays of energy which burned the ground, and then...
she teleported right in front of it, using the chaos she produced to her advantage, and placed her hand on its mask.
It was made of wood, soft to the touch.
The final motion was to rip it away, and she was so, so close to it.
That was easy, easier than expected.
Or maybe not.
Her opponent had seemingly decided to get serious.
It slashed at her with a lightning-fast motion, its weapon moving so fast it wasn't even visible, but that didn't catch her by surprise: after all, she expected the mysterious traitor to have plenty of tricks up its sleeve.
She dodged backwards, slightly frustrated, but accepting the fact that she would have needed to give it a little more effort.
The figure immediately followed up its attack with another one, even faster than the other.
Atsura blocked it by again generating a shield of Dark Energy around her hand, but it was only the first of a fierce series of relentless blows.
Another attack came, as it skillfully swirled its weapon, changing the angle of attack; then, as soon as she blocked it, it attacked from the other side, and then again, and again, and again.
She blocked them with little effort, but they were getting progressively faster and stronger.
She didn't feel true anger in the blows, but rather the elegant combat skill of a veteran: the attacks were so swift and precisely chained that she knew it was someone good.
Very, very good.
Dodging backwards, Atsura created space to allow her time for a counterattack, but - although she was sure to have gotten far enough - her opponent immediately appeared right in front of her, proceeding with its suppressing flurry of strikes.
"Tsk."
She twisted her lips in frustration at her enemy's stubbornness.
Had there been the necessity, she was fully ready to go all-out, but she wanted to avoid that occurrence at all costs: else, she wouldn't have been able to gain any valuable information, both for her and the village's sake.
That's what she constantly told herself, hiding behind a veil of confidence in her strength.
But what if she really wasn't strong enough? Then...
she annihilated that stupid thought as soon as it sprouted in her mind, taking her focus back on the battle.
Utilizing her frustration, she potently blocked an attack and pushed toward the figure while casting powerful rays of Dark Energy at it: apparently, she had decided to use a tad more strength.
It smoothly retreated, blocking the pressing attacks with its guandao, always utilizing the most perfect of movements.
(Who... is it?)
Atsura again thought, impressed by its fighting proficiency.
She possessed knowledge of many great warriors, especially in the field of the Dark Arts, so how was it possible for her to not know of a master like the one she was fighting?
The answer lay in the question's foundation itself.
She was fighting against a masked opponent, covered in clothing and with a distorted voice: how could she have recognized who it was?
Thinking more deeply about its fighting style, its elegantly precise movements, and surprising resilience, one person came to her mind.
(It's... him?)
Atsura thought, having finally gotten to the conclusion of her investigation.
That was not a certainty, however, as the only real way to know for sure was to unmask it, yet it still gave her an immense advantage:
(If it's really him, then I'll need to use a lot of power to kill him... this means that I can warm up a little.)
Having realized that, she raised her attacks' potency massively: her first move was making a gesture with her arm, first holding it up toward the sky and then immediately lowering it.
The previous attacks were certainly powerful, creating big explosions and distorting sound, but...
...
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
A gigantic pillar of Dark Energy came from the sky, and created an explosion so huge and devastating that it was vividly heard by everyone in the village.
Atsura didn't cause reckless destruction, however, as she had carefully planned its exact location to avoid damaging any buildings: this turned out very essential, as the pillar pressed itself against the ground with immense force, generating a second shockwave of even bigger dimensions.
The ground was shaken so heavily that it felt as if the world had suddenly flipped, harshly throwing everyone against the floor, except for...
swoosh
Atsura heard that faint sound, and immediately raised her right hand to protect herself, creating a much thicker shield around it.
It was completely shattered in an instant, and then came another attack:
swoosh
Again the very light noise of extremely quick movement, as she turned around and protected herself once more, though this time with her left hand.
swoosh
Another strike, although her shield hadn't suffered any damage, so it meant that the figure had for some reason decided not to attack.
Or at least she thought so.
She instantly teleported backwards, barely avoiding the second blow: in that exact moment, her shield turned to dust from the previous attack.
Calmness filled her heart, her face cold like a statue, her breathing precise and deep.
Atsura was not the type of warrior to get scared by something like that:
after all, this...
...was still merely part of her warmup.
Numerous strikes succeeded the initial ones, all so fast she had to react by intuition alone, but that was more than enough for her: perfect deflections were a piece of cake, and she sometimes snuck a terrifyingly quick hand chop between her opponent's attacks.
But they got faster. Much faster.
Her enemy had the peculiar characteristic of attacking faster and stronger each time, never showing a minimal sign of exhaustion, instead pressing on until its opponent would crumble beneath the pressure.
Atsura, annoyed at the constant flurry of strikes, quickly extended both her arms to her sides, instantly generating an extremely powerful shockwave that sent the figure flying.
For the first time in a while, it finally stood still, recovering from the blow.
But they both knew perfectly well that it was a blatant lie: if it stood still, it meant that it was expecting something, and Atsura took the opportunity to fulfill its expectations:
"I remember fighting against you, Commander Jeudz Olwenheim of Nebas." - She spoke, before stopping for a moment. - "Or should I say General?"
"Well well, you finally got to the conclusion: who else could have ever given you such a nice riddle in the Dark Arts?" The figure said, his voice still distorted.
(Mmh... would he reveal himself so easily? He's also still talking with that voice, and has a mask on. I can't trust him.)
"Tell me: how's it going in the ranks? Have there been any changes after-"
"Yes."
- He immediately replied, as Atsura barely held herself from smirking. -
"But don't play dumb: you should know that better than me. And guess who's also gotten higher in the ranks? A friend of yours might know him."
(He knows everything. Still, I can't make rushed assumptions.)
She thought as she continued her subtle investigation.
"And did you-"
"Weirdly talkative it seems, eh? Don't think I'm that stupid, I know what game you're playing."
- He shouted in accusation. -
"I'll raze this village to the ground, and not even you'll be able to stop me." He concluded, before swinging his weapon at her from afar.
A huge wave of Dark Energy was brought down upon Atsura, but she didn't even flinch.
Not a single movement came from her, except for raising her hand toward the approaching surge of destruction.
As it made contact with her palm, it immediately disappeared: there was no noise, no visible event, it simply stopped existing right in front of their eyes.
She lowered her arm slowly. As soon as she was done, that same wave of energy appeared from behind the figure, catching him completely off-guard.
It rammed into his back, slamming him against the ground, before exploding in a melodic thunder and generating a cloud of black smoke.
...
Seconds of silence passed, as the mist slowly cleared.
...
A body lay in the center of the square.
(It can't have been so easy.)
Atsura thought as she teleported before it, her guard high and ready for any surprise.
She turned it around and finally took off its mask, to reveal...
...
...she sighed, expecting such a cheap trick.
Not even wanting to put any effort into the blast absorption, she snapped her fingers and created a thick barrier around the body, before instantly distancing herself from it.
An enormous yet distorted explosion was heard, its sound so sharp it could almost cut, but it was fully contained within the Dark Energy capsule.
The pressure and power of it were so enormous that the sound remained fully audible for many seconds, before finally fading out, followed by the barrier.
As expected, the annoying spy was nowhere to be found.
The battle had left no mark on Atsura, except for that of a light exercise session, but her heart was brewing with frustration.
Although she - after a very thorough, Dark Arts-aided analysis - was fully sure that who she believed to be Jeudz Olwenheim was no longer in the village, the anger of having her target slip from her hands was still very present: maybe, she should have used a little more power.
Realizing that dwelling on the past was useless, she looked around to get a grasp on the general situation: now that the summoner was gone, the square was fully devoid of assassins, and - as a little bonus - there weren't any corpses to dispose of, as the figures turned to smoke after being terminated.
But Gurendam was not at peace yet, for one last mission still had to be carried out...
Near the training fields:
"I didn't expect this place to be so big, you know." Satyo said as he ran beside Yuna, in a hurry to find the last Captain.
They stood before incredibly vast, green plains, hidden in a quiet corner of the village: there was a big shack near its towering walls, and the area was split into many different subzones, each for a different type of training.
"I don't see him anywhere, so the only place to search is that house there." Yuna stopped and pointed at the massive shack.
"I really hope- shit."
- As Satyo began speaking, a horde of assassins appeared around them in the blink of an eye. -
"How are we gonna get out of this one?" He concluded, a severe note of doubt in his voice.
"Don't worry, they're very weak in the open. Leave them to me." Yuna stepped in, determinedly stating her intentions.
The circle of figures around them had a radius of a dozen meters, leaving much space and freedom of action to the Dark Arts practitioner, who immediately got into position to fight.
She joined her palms, closed her eyes and breathed deeply, before reopening them and casting a newly created sphere of Dark Energy at the approaching assassins.
It loudly exploded, eliminating several enemies and causing them to exhume the habitual cloud of black smoke, but the other figures kept going relentlessly, making a faint fear sprout in Yuna's mind.
She swallowed to calm her nerves, then extended both her arms in opposite directions, her palms facing the swarm of creeping killers.
After a moment, two beams of pitch-black matter were cast upon them, as she tried to spin around to maximize the damage.
(This is... so hard...)
She thought as she used all her strength to move her body, a feat surprisingly daunting while already casting rays of energy.
(Fuck... I really want to help, but I can't do anything.) Satyo frustratingly thought, only able to stand near Yuna as she did all the work.
His wish to help was, however, granted to him before he could even say a word.
"Take this, Satyo!"
Yuna shouted as she tossed him an assassin's knife, to both give him a means of defense as well as to receive a helping hand.
He promptly caught the weapon in his right hand, avoiding any unwanted injuries, as Yuna had purposedly covered the blade in a thin veil of Dark Energy, which disappeared as soon as he grabbed the weapon's handle.
The figures were still advancing, although their circle had been discontinued in multiple parts: they may have not been particularly fast or strong, but seeing a horde of relentless masked humanoids coming towards them was nevertheless a frightening experience.
(Ok, now I've got a knife... they're so sluggish that I might make it.)
Satyo gathered his courage and decided to go for an attack, carefully approaching the nearest figure, anxiety growing further and further within him with every step he took.
He battled his inner fears, also trying to make use of the breathing techniques he had learned previously, and finally confronted his enemy face to face, or face to mask in this case.
His hand trembled for a moment, but he steadied the grip and determinedly slashed at his opponent, ready to jump back at any moment had there been the need.
A gulp went down his throat...
...followed by a sigh of relief, as the figure turned to black smoke, filling him with excitement.
(Great! That's my first kill!) He smirked.
Meanwhile, Yuna had continued doing most of the work, and - although certainly not as powerful as her mother - she was nonetheless proficient in combat, sluggishly creating chains of strikes which managed to take down several assassins at a time.
As the circle tightened, the two of them were pressed back to back, each fighting their share of enemies synchronously, even if Satyo was rightly less of an asset.
"Okay, ready for the final strike? Just sit back and enjoy the show!" Yuna excitedly said.
"Yup, go for it!"
After receiving her - unnecessary, for she would have done it anyway - reply, she proceeded with her finale, closing the curtains on their small but adrenaline filled battle.
A moment passed, after which she spun in place and then jumped into the air, propelling herself with the help of a quick spell.
Satyo looked up, surprised at how high up she had gotten, and seeing the proud smile on her face as she showed off her technique.
Still floating in the air with the help of her magic - a feat which visibly cost her great amounts of effort - Yuna joined her palms with a thunderous clap, after which countless currents of Dark Energy enveloped each figure.
They all stopped at once, before being pierced by the deadly winds: although they were composed of similar matter themselves, the assassins were all terminated by the attack, turning into black smoke.
Yuna grinned proudly, but her grin went away when she plummeted toward the ground, as she had forgotten to continue floating.
Satyo, not far from her, instinctively tried to catch her in his arms and, be it luck or misfortune, succeeded in the attempt, his eyes now crossed with those of Yuna.
There weren't any words, just very, very visible embarrassment by the two of them: Satyo was so busy not knowing what to do that he forgot Yuna was still in his arms; as soon as he realized that, he let her stand up again, although there was a largely present desire to be anywhere else, as the embarrassment became unbearable.
Yuna looked at him, also not knowing what to do or say, and quietly muttered:
"Thank you."
Then, as soon as she had processed what had just happened, she immediately turned around to hide her visibly red cheeks, trying to formulate a quick strategy to get out of the uncomfortable situation.
"U-Uhm... let's check the house! Sae's gotta be there!" She pointed toward the shack in the distance, trying her hardest not to show any of the emotions generated by the previous event.
"Yeah, right..." Satyo had been less struck by feelings, and more by emptiness of head and utter confusion, as he disregarded the event to avoid having to deal with the mental consequences of it.
Truly coming back to their senses after a couple more moments, they proceeded with their mission.
Or at least they meant to.
"Yuna, behind-"
Satyo tried to yell at her, but was interrupted by his own reflexes, as he threw himself at the figure that had just appeared behind her back.
It had a spiral pattern on its mask.
It wore a robe split into two halves of black and white, and...
It wielded an ornate guandao as a weapon.
As it slashed at the defenseless Yuna, Satyo's mind was overwhelmed with a worry that he had only ever felt a single other time in his whole life.
With a quick motion, he pushed her to his left and used the momentum to grab the weapon's handle, his hand centimeters away from the giant blade.
Luckily, the one time he really needed it, surgical precision was granted to him: had there been even the slightest slip...
(No. Don't you fucking dare.)
Distant thoughts resonated in the back of his head, but he was too focused to give them any attention.
"Should've used more strength..."
The figure said, its voice distorted, before suddenly exerting immense pressure on Satyo's arm with its weapon, instantly overpowering his grip, the guandao's blade now moments away from forming an intimate relationship with his insides.
Fortunately for him, Yuna wanted to return the favor.
Using as much power as she had in her body, she created a thick shield around Satyo while sending an immediate sphere of Dark Energy toward the figure, hoping to disrupt the attack and protect her savior.
But she didn't know just how powerful her opponent was: it had been able to sustain Atsura's attacks with zero damage, so her weak strike was less annoying to him than a silent mosquito, and her barrier was as good as an extra layer of air.
This was horrible for her, but even more horrible for someone else.
Someone who would have had to experience a rather unpleasant sensation, namely the sensation of being cut in half while still breathing and fully conscious.
Satyo didn't have time to process full thoughts, but the sudden fear of his imminent fate rippled through his neurons, sending a jolt of terror across his body.
...
A certain person, however, had a sufficient reason to stop the execution, although not guided by kindness or altruism.
The guandao turned to ash, followed by a gigantic burst of Dark Energy from under the figure's feet, which almost sent it flying away.
Almost, as Atsura cast lightning fast spell-chains to cage it once and for all, creating layer after layer of transparent barriers, ensuring a clear view of her prisoner.
Satyo had narrowly been shielded by his ever-present guardian angel Yuna, receiving only minimal injuries from the initial blast and getting slammed against the ground, but it was still far better than the assassin's fate.
Atsura had had enough of it, this time she would catch her prey: although she might have held back previously, every speck of prudence and finesse was now obliterated from her mind.
She didn't care about the intel that she might have obtained, concealing this emotional inaccuracy of her behind the excuse that,
(He won't die anyway, I'll use as much power as necessary.)
Each subsequent spell was like a further set of chains, which tightened around the figure, fully immobilizing it in a matter of seconds.
This, however, was not enough for her.
Her goal would only be completed when she took off its mask, revealing the annoying spy's identity; on the way to said objective, she spiced things up by adding a bit of her... destructive touch.
She smirked at the sight of her prey, stuck and defenseless, left at her mercy, before slowly pointing a finger toward it.
There was no rush at all, as her arm was very calmly extended, her hand closed, and her index finger lengthened.
Her smirk slightly widened for a moment, and then...
The sharpest, most piercing sound was heard as a very thin but immensely powerful beam of Dark Energy passed right through the assassin's chest, creating a hole so clean you could see through it.
And it wasn't the only one.
Several other beams followed the first one, opening even more cavities in the - although not objectively so - poor figure.
After a while, her thirst for revenge was quenched: even though her emotions might have had the better for a moment, she was still a strategic mind, and ensured not to kill it by purposedly missing - assuming that it was a human being - its vital organs.
Little did she know, all of this effort wasn't necessary.
There was no reason for her to stop, nor to intentionally miss its vital parts, nor not to use all her power.
She hadn't learned the lesson yet, but she hopefully will now.
If there was even a lesson to learn in the first place.
Even littler did she know, the real roles of the hunt had been inversed from the beginning:
Atsura, who believed in her utter superiority, who considered her fight a light exercise session, was always the prey.
The figure calmly broke the barriers, freeing itself, before lunging at her with its bare hands.
Its Emmentaler-looking chest was of no concern, as it ignored each injury and proceeded with the strike.
Atsura suddenly teleported far behind, taking Satyo and Yuna with her, and narrowly avoiding the blow.
Seemingly, it had been a wise decision.
The assassin's hand stopped, but its attack didn't: an impossibly fast wave of Dark Energy came flying toward them- no, it was so quick that flying would be an understatement.
Knowing that her daughter's life was on the line, this time Atsura decided once and for all:
(Now it's time for some medium exercise.)
She deflected it with her right index finger, chaining the motion into a spiraling one, before redirecting the massive amount of energy toward the attacker.
But she wasn't the orchestra's conductor.
While in the middle of changing the flow of power, the dark wave exploded right before her, yet it wasn't a normal explosion.
The world turned inside out for a moment.
Colors were inverted- no: colors stopped existing, and everything gained the dark tonality of inexistence, while still prominently existing, much more than anything else.
Who saw that? Who experienced that?
The answer was, very simply, no one.
And everyone.
The sprouting seed of nothingness blossomed in Atsura's soul, but her rivaling plant of determination grew to further extents, as she absorbed the explosion with her own body.
"This is dangerous, I might end up actually gaining some muscles." She mockingly said, after having easily defended from the world-inverting shockwave.
"Atsura... I could kill you if I wanted to."
- Surprisingly, the figure replied, even addressing her by name. -
"I'm stronger than you, stronger than Sae, and stronger than anyone else. Let me show you what I mean." It concluded, before pointing its hand at Yuna, who was still too confused to properly react.
A realization came to her mind: its intentions were obvious, but she had, for the last time in her life, gone too light on her opponent.
Now she had gotten it. Now she had understood that everything was serious.
There was only a slight problem:
she was, by a tiny margin, too late.