"Mono/Dialogue"
'Inner thoughts'
Narration
[Message/communication apparatus]
Date: 14th October 1085
Location: Unnamed Wilderness, Leithanien.
POV: ???
“How fare the current situation? Should we sprung our net earlier than anticipated?” I asked a masked person next to me. All around us men and women are milling about with weaponry and Arts tools to be used for the upcoming event.
“The surprising visit from the Western People does need rectifying, it did however confirmed that these traitors are in possession of the Whisperer.”
“Indeed, His Majesty’s relics are not toys to be trifled with.” I turned my eyes towards where the hovercraft had left.
“I shall personally attend with the matter of incursion, and may I petition your expertise to attend with The Grey Serpent streak of troublemaking?”
“Fret not Mein Herren, the matter of her dealing with those savages would be dealt with, and she should be doing a magnificent work, provided no upset occurred. I must confess however… For someone like you to propose this daring plan; how heavily influenced were you by our dear guests?” A query and not an accusation, when was the last time someone speak with such decorum with me?
“It is not merely influence, Herr Heinz, Kurfurst Hohenberg is a dear friend of mine while I also has a score to settle.”
“You’re not going to let things goes as it? Didn’t The Grey Serpent delivered your cherished one for merely not standing in her way opening up a path?”
“True but what’s more? Frau Nyx had been quite… persuasive with feat of arms in an effiecient manner with proportioned execution. Truthfully speaking, her reputation and fame suggested otherwise; a brutish and merciless monster whom the world known as was incapable of feelings and trivialities such as decorum. Why, I often being regaled a facet of tales around her revolved and intertwined with violence and blood soaked earth.”
“Violence is merely a means to an end. Someone of your caliber would be privy with it, am I correct?”
“Indeed, nothing can slip past the KdK. I must reaffirm however, my life and family’s fealty is ironclad for The Twin Empresses’ rule. Regarding the Whisperer; we ought to ensure that our dear Fraulein doesn’t commit what she shouldn’t. Despite everything, Leithanien’s Rules and Leithanien’s Judgment must be ensured and no outside parties should be allowed a ground on it.”
“Noted…” we spoke no other words and stand impassively on this high ground. Our eyes are looking far into the encroaching cloud, the final step is close at hand…
POV: Nyx
While I was waiting for the inevitable interception, I had been ordering Conrad for things to help with the combat that will soon follow. For one; I had ordered him to go scout ahead and this time it is as expected. The Remnants, or Witch King’s Loyalist if you preferred so, had cobbled together a convoy for pursuit. For two, I ordered him to bring out one of my exoskeleton and a particular weapon for use in case I need to play defensive and reactive.
"Hey Conrad?"
[Yes, My lady?]
"Have you gathered the data?"
[Positive, it appears that inserting bits and pieces of your Arts into words helps her to regain mental stability. We are one step closer in understanding your peculiarities...]
"Heh.… good work… now, we wait."
The Drone had confirmed their identities since they still wore that same drab coat and hood back in the Mobile City, and boy aren’t they persistent. I mean, I did everything the contract had told me to, and it appears to be working. Viviana’s demeanor shows that she is not, at all, hated by the family, but the fact that her father still let this happen made me questioned that unconfirmed claim.
‘Well whatever, politics is messy and I don’t wanna dip in too deep more than necessary inside that kind of shithole… I’m still kinda feel bad with the girl, should I give her the manuscript?’
Their convoy are made up of bikes and vehicles, but I also seen a particularly large vehicle amongst their little army. Then Conrad pretty much confirmed a suspicion on the matter.
[I had detected strong residues of Arts from their center formation of the convoy. Another sensor also detected an anomaly upon the massive vehicle and. Mechanical-Originium weapon had been identified, please exercise caution.]
No shit, I mean when that hovercraft came in but fucked off something fishy is already in place around here and even more so when they keep on charging my way despite apparent fears. Am I underestimating this situation a bit too much after all?
After more than 30 minutes, my eyes finally spotted the upcoming convoy of through this damn deluge of rain. Before I unleashed my arrow, the biggest vehicle akin to a bus unraveled… and a massive transparent veil of shielding are pointed my way.
‘Wait, what the hell is that? Is that some kind of weapon? Wait no… actually is that some kind of telephone tower? Huh?’
Testing another suspicion of mine, I released the strung tautly string and the arrow flew straight like a ballista bolt. It then made contact with the shield, curiously enough it penetrates the outer shielding layer before slowing down and finally fell down harmlessly unto the ground. That’s kinda awesome, sad I can’t have it regardless.
“Conrad, am I tripping or something? Think I am honestly, since there is, apparently, a giant fucking tower on top of one of their vehicles. What’s more? They have shielding…”
[Your eyes are functioning as intended my lady, it is still quite an incredulous idea that they attached a telephone tower on top of their vehicle… one moment please, further analysis is necessary.] Conrad confirmed the situation and I know that originium technology made things lighter and most importantly very efficient for Arts casting. That’s all I know really, I was never a scientist nor a think-tank type of person, but it is ludicrous to see it moving so brazenly like… wait…
[My lady! There is something being stored on top of it, and from my conjecture, that unknown appears to be living in nature!]
My eyes refocus on a series of wires that are being cleverly hidden but not so cleverly blend well with its background when you traced it. Then I also spotted some kind of interference in place, focusing my mental synapse deep-
“Ngh!” I flinch with my head tilting sideway slightly from a negative feedback that just rip through my cerebrum. It feels like thousands upon thousands of daggers are puncturing my skull and making a pin-cushion out of my brain. Thankfully I didn’t staggered more than that mere flinch.
‘…Don’t project weakness and keep them on their toes.’ Compared to that faux-eldritch bastard of a blade, the pain from this one is like pouring alcohol or salt on wound. Painful but turns out more on an annoying spectrum the more time passes by. Speaking of which…
‘What the fuck was that!? I just got halted of seeing further inside the shield, I can still force it in if that’s what the pain is all about. Worth noticing too was why did the pain, albeit very watered down, felt familiar?’ Before I can act, the casters within their vehicles starts chanting, pretty much a symphonious cacophony of performances with their Arts. Lightning bolts, wind gales, fireballs, waterballs, and even rocks are flying our way. I can shoot them down, but that’s sounds wasteful, and the hovercraft was a special case compounded by the fact that I can’t help myself to test the 4 million arrow.
Thus my hands immediately get into action, holstering the bow behind my back neatly with its own mechanism, and pulling out the blade I had hidden behind my back, the blade has been dulled to pretty much a slab of metal. This blade is the exact same one that had stopped that shithead Emperor’s Blade own. My accomplice, Dr. Kal’tsit, never said anything about it, only stating that the blade became like this when she arrived.
Now let me utilize the blade hidden feature I’m starting to be so fond off…
The blade gleamed with silvery hue, temporarily blinding the eyes of everyone present. My right hand turned into a blur that divide the rain and causing a ring of void to be created along its path. The silvery sword cut through the incoming Arts with practiced motion, intercepting and neutralizing it.
The fireballs that was already weakened by the rain was cut in half, the earth stones were being obliterated, the lightning bolt was absorbed, and the waterballs are all returned to sky. The wind gales? Well… It is cutting my body, bloody lacerations are clear for all to see but at least these are unable to cause anything more significant than a scratch.
‘Well… Pretty sure I was both wizard and witch more than once… kinda nostalgic.’ My hands alternated themselves when holding the blade, it is dull but I don’t need sharpness at the moment. About the wound that keeps on accumulating? I can only tough it out, cutting winds and the like are harder than it looks when I also have to keep my own footing in mind. Luckily, my tail is doing a magnificent job in balancing and clutching at the van’s rail and anything I can grab upon.
Conrad is not just sitting there doing nothing. Sensing that he can’t contribute much in terms firepower due to the shield, he instead gather for potential weakness on their formation. I mean I can just order him to keep pounding the shield, but that sounds terribly inefficient. Not to mention that if it’s not cracking; there goes another hundreds of thousand…
[Analysis completed, I had confirmed using drone 11’s camera that the shield is only a forward facing one. Their flanks and rear is susceptible for flanking maneuver or a penetration strike.] Isn’t it nice to have an assistant?
“Good work, but we’re not charging out, so prep your turrets. This mission will cost me for a bit, but the compensation is well worth it… you know what? To hell with it, arm my bike with both light and heavy ordinances, better safe than sorry.”
[Acknowledged.]
The thralls on top of their vehicles are closing in on me devoid of anything, their transport are closing in. Just when I was about to tell Conrad to hurry up, the left and right side of the van unveiled its turrets, thus a pair of light originium autocannons starts blasting at the enemy immediately.
One of their vehicle got riddled with holes, and its occupant turned into Swiss cheese. The blood was promptly washed away by the rain and absorbed by the soil, then again any corpses left in the wild would make its way into maggots or fangbeasts stomach so whatever. Sadly, one of the autocannon got hit by a lucky Arts fireball, thus making the right side blinded.
One of the vehicle tried to latch itself using hook, but this vic is anything but weakly protected and the hook bounced off before getting entangled with one of their own wheels. Brant had also seems to try and help me out, when one of the hostile transport tried to corner the van, he just smash at them. I think I also saw blood spurt when he rammed one that tried to get in the way of this 10 tons pure steel.
‘I mean, I don’t mind if you wanna play rough with it, but it’s still my ride you know…? A heads-up would’ve been nice…’
Several thralls tried to jump and hijack the van, but I just kick those poor sods away with roundhouse kick before once again adopting the defensive posture. This going on for a while until they realized that the casualties is too much, and the fact that they are having a hard time hitting the van when everything is so crowded.
Remnants Arts Casters shocked expressions were particularly delicious when they saw me getting hurt but not caring one bit about it. Then I sense something I had yet to feel for years; pure hatred. Locking on my eyes towards the source, I see a particularly, ostentatiously, dressed and masked woman at me looking at me. Her emotion however is pretty much sheer hatred and disgust like I fucked her son without permission or something.
She bellowed something in Leithanien, I can’t exactly heard quite right on what she said through the rain, present occasion of me being shot at, and my Germanika is quite rusty for reference. A lull is created, confounded by them unable to do anything much and our combined effort to not make it easy.
“This day is just getting better. Wouldn’t it be nice if I can do the things they did…” An ice spear was shattered when I called for Conrad, man they this is getting annoying. Luckily, my tail made me stand upright naturally without problem.
[My Lady?] Tilting my head sideway, dodging a wind cutter or whatever, almost getting my face marred, I start explaining our next move.
“Can’t they just give up? Pretty sure the situation back there is really bad for them…” Damn, this sword is hella tough. Granted it is having a hard time in cutting paper now, but at least I have nothing to worry about maintenance.
[I suppose they tried their best precisely because something had indeed happened behind their line. To reiterate, cornered beast fought the hardest when wounded.] I want to answer immediately, but then volleys of crossbow bolts are heading my way. A few made it through and lodged itself in my body, but I’m really getting used with the pain at this point.
I look towards where it came and sees that bikes and cars playing peek-a-boo by exiting the shield and then entering it back but not before shooting whatever they have in mind. Guess it goes both ways for physical armaments huh? This shield kinda sucks compared to what I had back on some of my old worlds, but definitely impressive judging by their technological level.
“This is just blind fanaticism, wouldn’t it better for them to just go away and lie low?” This is one weird contract, usually they broke easily if I show my face, unless they’re being backed by something else… Oh how I hate shadow civil war.
“How about our little passenger? I’m still unsure if I’m doing a great job as a bodyguard to be honest.” While saying that I just realized that each of their Arts were also laced with sound residue, if not a full melody. Just how much do they love music to the point of weaponizing it!?
[I shall guarantee that nothing will befall the Young Lady. It appears however, you put less importance on the other two…] Oh yeah… uh… they are grown up enough, they can handle themselves. Well, if the rumors about Gesatzwachter is true, Brant is enough for keeping them safe. Still have no idea what that concertmaster Arts is all about nor any about Viviana’s.
“Lower priority but do your best, we’re paid for keeping only her safe, and the escorts knows it.” Settling it like that should suffice, I thin- woops, almost got hit by an ice spear there… This weather and combined with their harassment made things annoying to deal.
[Technically, you’re the only one getting paid.] How nice really, I’m here busting my ass under hails of Arts, but can still interact normally.
“You’re also the only one with me to be given pocket money frequently.” It’s really weird, after I had fought that Emperor’s finest mugger, this barely fazed me.
‘The whole thing felt lukewarm… ah fuck, I jinxed myself…’
[A fair point of view but I’m afraid we have no more luxury to spare.] Conrad finally starts to get the extra turret and stuffs ready for redeployment, and this armored van plus Terra’ idiotic technological tree is a match made in heaven. I can pack enough arsenal for taking down a whole town with a room for extra tonnage to spare.
I eyed the bike that has been tucked neatly beside it; I can jump on it just when things turned bad. It really is nice to have someone to cover your back with logistics and what not. If only Conrad was there when that shithead blade eldritch-raped me… of well…
‘Wonder if I can get an APC somewhere…? There was that Hovercraft back where I first woken up, is it still there? Maybe I can try do something about it, but I have neither the mechanic and industrial knowledge nor a good place to hide something that will potentially make every nation even more interested in me; and my otherworldly ability of being troublemaker or problem solver.’
Letting him do his own thing, I refocus my gaze, and forcing my mental synapse to penetrate the hazy shroud that is enveloping the tower. The lull allowed me to do so, and regardless of how much pain I need to endure, that tower thingy along with the shield seems to be sucking a lot of power from somewhere and judging by that huge ass vehicle carrying it, which sounds plausible.
‘So much for wanting her dead, they are really foolish…’ mentally scoffing on it, I carefully divide my mental concentration between protecting the vehicle and penetrating the shield. Gritting my teeth, biting my lips, and squeezing my palms into fist while the other is clenching the blade for precision deflects.
I have finally managed to break through the enshrouded target an-
“… Huh?”
…
…
…
“… ha… Ha… Haha…” I can feel my eyes widen into disbelief, my movements dulled and they seems to notice it thus what was once hails of arts and projectile turned into veritable rain of its own. Honestly though? That’s barely important… what I saw takes precedent.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” I can’t help but to laugh with what I had witnessed. The amount of unadulterated stupidity that I kept witnessing just tickle my funny bones during the most inopportune moments. I laughed so hard that it feels like the world had gone silent… how quaint…
‘… They are so dead…’ My laughter is losing its drive, and shimmering down into a series of mirthless, dispirited, giggles… hah… Humanity, their, and by extension mine, mentally and chronically challenged decision making is just a self-inflicted tragic comedy at this point.
Rage overcome me and I straddled my bike to launch forward. My sudden change of approach bewildered these waste of airs. I made a beeline towards the tower; and only the tower but hails of ranged attacks only further fuel my distaste. I need to be quick.
What feels like eternity of dodging, shooting, and slashing my way through these bastards, finally am I really face to face with its main formation. My sense then screamed when I almost crashed against the shield, the same way it screamed danger when I almost got hit by an oripathy years ago.
I tried to circle around but met resistance every time I tried to.
‘Just fucking let me pass!’ I tried to exploit their flanks; but was thwarted by these fucking casters. They know that I barely felt shit from their tickles, so instead they start targeting my bike. I cannot let it get destroyed, I will lose my method of transportation otherwise.
‘Come on Nyx, you can do it!’ Then I tried to use thralls that are converging on my position as a shield. How long has it been? I had been riding parallel with their formation but I had yet to get close. These fucking shield even reoriented itself to block my shots.
‘Please just let me save them!’ I tried and tried and tried… but there is nothing. Until I finally feel the last embers of life from what’s inside the tower was extinguished… my heart break. I had no choice but retreated back…
I don’t know what happens when I’m returning… only that my body is riddled with wounds… strange… I feel no pain now. Then when my sense is back, I’m back on top of the moving van… blood drenching every inch of my body. Guts and torn flesh cling upon my uniform and… he… he… he…
“AAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHH!”
My true voice that has been painstakingly hidden from the world bled itself into my voice albeit only for a fraction of a millisecond, causing the blade in my hand to glow into an eerily subdued shade of light, absorbing and tarnishing it into grey hue. I can feel my eyes getting blurry, my hands trembling, and my body shaking with barely restrained rage…
‘They just have to do it huh? It is not too hard to avoid making me feel displeased really… I can take insults in stride, I can laugh out challenge, and I rarely even care about reputation… but this one…? Welp…’
My expression is now void, I can’t even feel my own breath, body heat, and heartbeats. I’m just tired dealing with this kind of bullshit, I thought that my reputation would at least give some credence of what not to do, not a checklist of it… or perhaps they had done it out of spite for me? The motivation matters not… so…
“Shame…” I feel several doses of adrenaline and combat regeneration stimulant shot into my vein, my free hand had pressed a button on my exoskeleton. Not long after, I can feel how my veins are being pumped with chemical, both for practical and medical purpose.
My last nigh-catastrophic failure made me realize that packing as much gimmick is a correct approach but it is useless if you can’t use it… so Conrad suggested it and I made some arrangement with a Nearl’s associate to modify this exoskeleton.
‘Guess I need to show them why the Ursus 6th Army’s remnants were never thrilled with meeting me again. I kinda feel bad for the spectators, but I just can’t let something like this slide without dire, hefty, consequences…’
POV: Narrator
When the Serpent roared against the heaven; the earth trembled; air quivered; and dead souls held its breath for what feels like eternity. Tears of anger pouring down her face, before her face turned void of anything…
Witch King’s Loyalists are struck with a tidal wave of malevolent dread, even the thralls that should have been incapable of feeling emotions and having self-preservation had instinctively trembled with an emotion so clear for the whole world to acknowledge. The Casters can feel it, a wave of newfound fear is chilling them to the bone. They can’t help but wonder where this eeriness came from, it was surely not from the Serpentine Nightmare in front of them. Their Arts detectors are not reacting, only tracking the 3 people inside the van that is capable with Arts.
When one of them tried to force the instrument of locking into the Pythian, all they see is still the same; nothing but void. Not a blip, not even a shred of Arts can be detected. They roused themselves from their stupor and continuing the assault, thus they noticed how their adversary had changed its pattern of combat.
Their frontal assault had failed, and all it did was only making her angrier (or so they thought). Wilderness is being painted red with blood and decorated with fresh guts that on itself was grounded and desecrated by the moving convoy.
“Damn that schweinhund, Eideker will rue the day they cross His Majesty’s path to return and cleanse this world of Unttermenschen!” A noblewoman, a Grafin to be exact, can be seen to be fuming within one of moving vehicle. She exuded her rage with clear distaste on how things falling apart all too quickly. She moved her eyes upfront, still in denial that The Grey Serpent’s feat was not an exaggeration like what she used to see.
No longer were her parries be of flamboyant and relaxed manner, it is a series of lifeless and mechanical repetition and pattern. Her unflinching and bloodied body appears to have lost what shred of humanity they so desperately wish to see, a small comfort amidst the death that approach ever so closer. A particularly strong and brimming with hope of Wind Arts struck her neck, yet even that failed to elicit a smidgen of emotion from her face.
Nyx’s body language and expression, that were scarce to begin with, has been truly made void and cold. Despite being painted by the perilous storms and howling winds beneath the heaven and their mortal attempts, she keeps on deflecting their offenses and strikes. The thralls are moving in ever closer unto the vehicle. They have no need to eliminate the eerie snake that is visibly coiling itself, poised to strike and inject its venom deep to then tore open its foes necks when they get too close.
Her swings and dodges improve minutely for all to observe. The once cuts and slashes by both wind blades and its equivalent, along with bolts and the more mundane weaponry, made its mark less and less. One vehicle stood out, it was heavily decorated with sigils and runes that one can find in Leithanien’ class of Arts manipulation. These sigils are glowing bright in an alternating blue and golden light.
“Mein Grafin … she’s a monster…”
“What should we do!? She starts to redirect our wind casters arts!”
“Get the extra thrall there already! We can always brainwash those filths to fill up the ranks!”
“That’s not how combat work dummkopfft!”
“Caster squads 1 through 4 keep up the pressure, 5 through 7 prepare to back them up!”
“Your orders, Mein Fraulein?”
“…” The Grafin in question said nothing and instead pulled out some kind of parchment. She eyed it momentarily deliberating on what needs to be done. She then sighed, and was forced to acknowledge the fact laid in front of her eyes so vividly. Thus she, with utter distaste, must take her opponent seriously. Rectifying her stance and outlook upon the situation.
“Prepare the soldiers for offensive, and distract her while I start the communion. It shouldn’t take too long…”
‘How distasteful and baleful it is for me to admit, but the wench certainly has her merits. A shame that I can’t have her body for further research, even a defect’s body can provide insight on our cause.’ The woman bit her lower lips, chagrined but also thrilled with the possibility of testing her creation.
Back to Nyx
Nyx is boiling in anger deep inside, but her rational mind held her back from just jumping straight towards the convoy and wreak havoc again. She has her bike prepared by the side of the van, like usual, in case she needed to do something drastic. It does irked her that the Remnants seems to have grown passive, oh how she wanted to tear their spine off and piss on their corpse.
The skirmishers are still annoying as all hell, but she can’t do anything because the moment the sword is dropped, she’ll be unable to deflect further ranged attacks. She cannot afford any more surprises, and she starts to really regret being a lone wolf in this type of job. What’s more? She could have saved them if she wasn’t such a chickenshit…
She eyed her opponent hatefully, their sigils seems to have something in it to help maintaining the shield. Nyx is half-tempted to try her luck, but once again she doesn’t want to let anything harming the van. Especially when they finally tried to just ram this vehicle or shooting out the tires, the former failed because Brant’s superb driving skill and Conrad using portable launchers, and the latter due to the van’s tires being coated with harder materials.
These back and forth keeps on for a while until they can see their destination, a valley named as Spearedge that is sandwiched in-between Fastolf Mountains and Casimir’s Chasm. The rain had now dissipated and rays of light pierced through the gloomy weather that has been accompanying their journey.
The van finally entered the valley with the Grey Serpent still fending off the Remnants that are getting desperate. It goes on for a while and Nyx had half the mind to improvise with what she has.
If not for a sudden emergence of a fog on her right side, and without taking too long, a beast leap out from it and hit her square in the chest. 3 holes tore open her body while Nyx spat blood out of her mouth. With the angle she’s currently in, the beast push her over the vehicle, plummeting down from the moving vehicle to the wayside and dragged towards the lowest point of Casimir’s Chasm.
[Nyx!?] Conrad is alarmed from the sudden development, but it persevered that its master would be just alright, she is not the famed Grey Serpent for nothing. Thus it pushed aside its worry, and just dispatch the bike outside to follow after Nyx whom might be locked in combat with the beast that had pulled her down.
The Remnants cheered seeing their greatest obstacle had finally been dealt with, doesn’t matter if she came back, her absence is already more than enough.
“The vile snake is gone, all units converge on the vehicle! I want the girl alive; kill the rest!” The Witch King Loyalists’ leader starts barking orders for the convoy to envelope the lone armored vehicle, but the narrow valley causing them to bunch up and clogged it full with vehicle.
The driver is doing his best to navigate through the treacherous valley while the passengers has not much to do. Conrad is maintaining and feeding the turrets with millions worth of munitions; it will surely hurt the Grey Serpent’s pocket but it is hardly the time for sophistry.
The van navigated itself across a narrow pathway, its pursuers relentless but having a hard time in mustering enough numbers to surround their target. The van banked hard to right, narrowly avoided an abyss that would have plunged it down into gravitational death. The situation is worsening by the minute; but they finally made it through a sizable opening.
The van is now traversing on the field of wilted grasses and flowers that is surrounded that Fastolf Mountain range. Sensing the opportunity for interception; Witch King’s Loyalist bikers just sped fast ahead of its target before making a U-turn, directly on the armored van’s path. The van tried to dodge from the upcoming crash, unfortunately its opponent gave no such luxury and deliberately have the van boxed it in a tight encirclement.
The Crash seems imminent…
POV: Viviana
I watched as everything turned for the worst, The Grey Serpent had been pushed off from her footing and all I can so is to shear it into my memory. Strangely enough; my mind is not in disarray as I used too, it was clear but also filled with urgency. Our position is no less tenuous; but my mind and heart had never meld so intimately as one.
‘Why, I even felt myself to be soaring… how peculiar…’
Brant is on the verge of using his Arts; which would overcomplicate the matter the both of them had been discussing during our journey. Kola too chanted out her shield; she had once told me that she worked for the vilest men of Leithanien but never said whom.
Not long after; a thin but robust film of Arts enveloped us. I can’t exactly see much since the camera only face upon one direction; but judging by Kola’s face that is glistening with sweat and compounded by her rough breathing, safe to say that the she is pushing herself. There are less sound being transmitted through; is it her style of pity I wonder?
I spectated from the corner of my eyes on how Brant seems ready to use his Arts that was specialized for all Gesatzwachter’s use and no one else’s… It was said that he can use it when 10 people are needed… still…
‘What can I do…?’
Everything slowed down into a crawl; enemies at the forefront and our rear end. My mind raced to find an olive branch for us to do away with predicament… then I finally recalled the lesson I had taken regarding my Arts; Light absorption and shadow manipulation. Through the camera I knew that the weather had turned for the better; thus I start focusing on what little do I know. Words of my father and tutors flows within the confine of my mind…
‘Musical Arts is not just that of a tool and weapon or even means of attaining glory; Arts is life. Each syllable has meaning; it must be weaved with both determination and wit. Words uttered by fools can indeed rocked the boat; but the wise can move mountains with it. Thus remember to visualize; give meaning; and start singing.’
‘Viviana, your Arts signify that even when shadow enshrouded the world; light will always exist. The opposite is also true, there will be no shadow without light illuminate it. Do not feel ashamed for borrowing power from someone else; even I did the same. Remember how Lucinda wanted nothing more than for you to realize yourself. Controlling your Arts is one of the ways forward.’
POV: Narrator.
Thus she starts humming. Her voice is soft, immature, but also bellied the unbridled passion to be free from a cage that had always been protecting her and her mother, Lucinda Droste. Her passing was hard; she wept for days but her mother soft smile and parting words is enough to convince her otherwise.
The lights from both the heaven and cascading luminaries of secondary sources of her foes fueled her. She starts to bleed from her nose; a mark of how juvenile her control is currently at. Kola noticed it and she was about to panic when her humming had finally registered on her ears. And unknown to the Young Lady and her attendants, a wisp of silvery light draped in gray had deigned to be absorbed and used as source of power. Viviana can feel the burning heat of flame in the palm of her hands; paradoxically however, it is so soft and temperate that she almost mistook it for a custom-made gloves during winter, stabilizing her Arts and allowed greater than ever sky of her own making to be reach.
Viviana loves poetry and reading in general. She practiced her arts centered on the imagination and needs for expression; her idealized look which should have been detrimental when facing reality ends up the silver lining in this situation. Her innocent fascination of Knighthood became another crutch.
Her voice is soft like the morning wind during spring. So joyous and free; heralding the coming of a new era after the enduring the cold embrace of reality.
Her tone is like that of vigorous determination, drive, and ecstatic laughter of summer. Welcoming; celebrating; forgiving; and astonishing.
Her rhyme is that of rueful parting but also an invitation akin to that of the last rain during autumn, blessing the land once more before entering its slumber.
Finally her Arts exploded like the howling winds of winter’s blizzard, the force and meaning of its syllable synchronized as one. It heralded not just death; but a chance for patience for one to finally gaze upon the spring’s sunrise once more.
The Shadows, be it the vehicle she had been sought refuge at; the towering mountain range that shielded the field from encroaching light; the deep abyss in distance she had once traversed; the clouds hanging upon the heaven; or even the abominable tower own. She takes it all; she ruled it all! Her mind twist and turn to realize her desire and necessity, a performance of her own validity.
What would she be? Would she be a halberd; a weapon to cleave and smash forward against her enemy? Nay, her heart still unable to fathom hurting others.
What else then? Would she be an arrow? Nay, she has no desire to expend herself when she has yet to understand and realize her dream.
Then what should she be? A spear with unfurled banner mayhap? Nein, she has yet to see herself capable of shouldering such a burden…
Options running thin; what doth the maiden desire? An elegant sword surely fits her, aye? She wish for grace; but an ostentatious blade hardly a path to deliverance. Thus she discards it…
What else then? There is one… not a weapon; but no one said it can’t be one either. Meant to protect and you must bear the weight yourself. A creation since the dawn of man destined to shatter but not without battering its foes one way or another. Thus she chanted aloud:
“Fidelis Aeterna; Argyraspides!”
Resplendent light bathed the valley, the light had pushed away the remaining dark clouds but not forcefully; more in line with guiding it to rest and gracefully slumber until the spring called forth for it stand awoken. Her beautiful melody and determination to be the shield was enforced by her true desire, be A Knight that embodies chivalry but never for glory.
Pillar of light manifested and transformed into the eponymous Silver Shield; the guardian and companion from world unknown yet known. Viviana’s mind was both rend and free; she is caged no more and she wish to sing her praise for freedom she had finally attained. She will be a knight worthy of her freedom; but she will never forget for the cage that had protected and served her faithfully.
Everyone that witnessed such a splendid shows of Arts was left agape, befuddled, dazzled, and impressed regardless of who they are no matter how brief. The Silver Shield repelled all and any attempt to harm her and those she cherished, living or otherwise. Her Arts clashed like a mountain being smashed with a hurricane; natural and potent.
Leithanien always strive for the finest shows of lexical glory and literature prowess; Viviana had showcased its maximum potential. No matter how virtuous or vile someone is, they are always captivated by a superb creation of music and melody.
Her pursuers are all left stunned and astonished seeing what can only be described as miracle, for she had truly and well transcended and exceeded her own limitation. This brief splendor is enough for the vehicle to narrowly avoid the upcoming clash of steel and blood, leaving their dazzled foes back to square one.
Viviana collapsed, her body is feverish and her nose bled; yet satisfaction graced her face. The Remnants tried to resume their pursuit upon those they had briefly admired, only for the entrance to collapse. Thankfully, their van passed by safely while their foes left trapped behind them, speeding away.
When the Witch King’s Loyalists are about to re-track back towards the other end of the valley’s opening, the place where they entered, explosion rocked the said end. They are now the one entrapped between the rocky mountains of Fastolf and deep abyss of Casimir.
“What happened!?”
“Something just sealed the other end out of this place!”
“You there! Contact our back-up forces in the city, they need to leave that place for good.”
While they argue however; the remnants finally noticed that the valley had gone quiet, eerily so. Then clapping sounds echoed in the empty valley; they looked around and turned their head upward… there they see an Elafian man. His hair is styled into a neat trim, his face is wrinkled, his posture and visage is that of an old man; evidenced by one of his hand clutching a cane. Despite that however, he still stood ramrod straight while being garbed in the finest military gear.
“A fine day to you, Grafin Herkaienen, what a lovely day we’re having here. If you would be so inclined, I would be more than thrilled to share a cup of Tea with you.” The man said in a courteous manner, but it doesn’t take a genius to notice the vitriol and mockery in his voice.
The Shield’s direction shifted towards the latest intruder. The man does not appears concerned with the shield’s existence.
“Eideker, it was your doing all along!? You better not cross me, else your son-”
“My son is safe, Grafin… so that’s why… it’s a checkmate…” That’s all he said before contingents of figures clad in armor, uniform, and arts garb are standing on top of them. Leithanien Knights, Casters, and Gendarmeries surrounded the valley with their weapons and arts ready to rain hell upon their target.
“… Insolent cur! You will regret this sacrilege against His Majesty’s most faithful!”
“That may be, but I will not busy myself with such a trifling luxury if I were you… Please, do look acknowledge reality on your end of the Abyss.”
With his words, the remnants all pulled away their gaze from the metaphorical guillotine… straight unto the literal meat grinder by comparison. A lone bike engine can be heard vividly from their rear position. The Grey Serpent has gone full throttle onward, her hand clutching the originium carbine tightly and her expression morphed into utter distaste.
She navigated and butchered her way towards the tower, those who defies her are turned into a bright red puddle on the ground or mangled artwork etched onto fleshy canvas. She stood up from her ride and starts using the clogged crowd of mechanical steed and its fleshling of riders. All happens in mere blink of an eye, but she had truly reached the top of her most hated icon and she roared against the heaven before smashing her sword downward.
Tower that was brimming with perverted purpose was destroyed, soon Nyx dropped down with something on her hands… a pair of emaciated children. The remnants should have swarmed her; but their primal instinct had cowed them into utter submission. Thus Nyx is doing her best to resuscitate them… She tried and tried and tried… but no pulse, no heartbeats… she finally stopped.
Her hand gripping the blade that shone a darker shade of grey… There now stood someone all of them, safe for one, dreaded the most. The Grey Serpent, battered and bloodied but very much alive. Nyx walked forward but no one dared to stop her, her gaze is level towards the noble that she accused of being the one behind those 2’ suffering.
Herkaienen panicked seeing how death is advancing languidly on her direction. Her mouth stammered out melodies and tones to activate her arts. Balls of fire form on her hand and was promptly shot towards the Grey Serpent, it hit her square in the chest but even the sound of sizzling and burning flesh doesn’t deter her.
The Grafin tried everything but accomplished nothing. Soon she is finally standing in front of her, eyes devoid of anything.
“Y-you can’t touch me! I’m protected by the law of this land! Learn your pla- gah!” Nyx is having none of it, and starts swinging down her fist.
Each swing crack her bone; but does not shatter it.
Each swing inflict pains in the thousands; but she cannot have the luxury of subconscious.
Each swing elicit wet and bloody sounds; the spectators are aghast no matter who they are.
Each violent swing is filled to the brim with hate; and useless anger, they had departed this world after all.
“…Magnificent.”
While the Remnants and Leithanien watches on in muted horror, that word roused them form their stupor. A single figure garbed in resplendent military regalia worthy of a ruler had been observing the situation with interest. The figure is revealed to be a woman in her 30-40s, when those present realized that one Leithanien’s most feared and influential figure is amongst them; the majority kneeled in unison while their body shivered with both awe and terror. The rest? Swept into the dustbin of history without even a chance to blink.
Nyx only looked up from the bloodied, barely clinging to life, visage of this sorry excuse of a beast dung. Her eyes locked on the Black Haired Caprinae, she sports an amused smile and appraising gaze.
The Grey Serpent then stand on her feet and stared at her square in the eyes, such a sacrilege and impudent display prompted the Black Haired Caprinae bodyguards to unsheathe their swords, but she told them to stand down.
“Fraulein Nyx… I must say, you exceeded my expectation.”
Despite still fuming in anger, Nyx still has some semblance of rationality. Thus she dipped her head low in a bow, still irreverent but better than the last, before uttering her greetings towards Leithanien’s dreaded Empress. She uttered an extremely archaic form of Leithanien, which is why the words that flows from her lips surprised the Empress’s bodyguards and everyone present except for the person in question who is more intrigued with the meaning and style of her dialect.
“Verzeihen Sie meine Unverschämtheit, Ihre Kaiserliche Majestät, die Schwarze Kaiserin. (Forgive my impudence, Your Imperial Majesty, The Black Empress.)”
“Fret not, I never styled you to be one with decorum…” The Black Empress, Hildegard Grimmmacht, walked passed her. She gazed upon the remnants who opted to surrender, no doubt that their punishment would be severe but order exist. She then turned her gaze back on The Grey Serpent, whom is being encircled with Empresses’ Voices and Gesatzswächter in case she think anything untoward, and spoke…
“Let’s talk, shall we?”
[END OF CHAPTER]
Author’s Note:
Yo there! This is me, myself, and I the author who is actually not having a good time… In other news, my thesis is kinda fucked. So… uh… yeah. I’m screwed to put it mildly…
Regarding the steedbeast, it is practically a horse but it has horns, like a triceratops, fanged mouth, and 3 pairs of legs and an interesting part in my opinion, is that the beast’s body is covered in an oddly crude looking armor. I take inspirations from the Norse mythological horse; Sleipnir, FF12’s horse thingy with metal mohawk, and of course triceratops.
I have decided to scrap 4 or 5, except maybe for one, detailed scenarios I have in mind. I just want to expedite Nyx faster up to speed unto the canon timeline, since she is good enough in terms of influence, foothold, and financial… heh, IFF… anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, expediting the story.
Otherwise, I’m afraid that I’ll get into more tangents where I just can’t help myself and starts typing in words that made myself wondered what did I snorted last night. I might or might not revisit these scenarios as side stories, but only after I managed to get Nyx into the 3rd Episode at bare minimum, so brace for the Nyx’s express.
I’ll be taking a vacation since it has been a really rough year, I’m literally having a migraine.
So see you on the 15th of January.
Ciao
"Mono/Dialogue"
'Inner thoughts'
Narration
[Message/communication apparatus]
Date: 14th October 1085
Location: Unnamed Wilderness, Leithanien.
POV: ???
“How fare the current situation? Should we sprung our net earlier than anticipated?” I asked a masked person next to me. All around us men and women are milling about with weaponry and Arts tools to be used for the upcoming event.
“The surprising visit from the Western People does need rectifying, it did however confirmed that these traitors are in possession of the Whisperer.”
“Indeed, His Majesty’s relics are not toys to be trifled with.” I turned my eyes towards where the hovercraft had left.
“I shall personally attend with the matter of incursion, and may I petition your expertise to attend with The Grey Serpent streak of troublemaking?”
“Fret not Mein Herren, the matter of her dealing with those savages would be dealt with, and she should be doing a magnificent work, provided no upset occurred. I must confess however… For someone like you to propose this daring plan; how heavily influenced were you by our dear guests?” A query and not an accusation, when was the last time someone speak with such decorum with me?
“It is not merely influence, Herr Heinz, Kurfurst Hohenberg is a dear friend of mine while I also has a score to settle.”
“You’re not going to let things goes as it? Didn’t The Grey Serpent delivered your cherished one for merely not standing in her way opening up a path?”
“True but what’s more? Frau Nyx had been quite… persuasive with feat of arms in an effiecient manner with proportioned execution. Truthfully speaking, her reputation and fame suggested otherwise; a brutish and merciless monster whom the world known as was incapable of feelings and trivialities such as decorum. Why, I often being regaled a facet of tales around her revolved and intertwined with violence and blood soaked earth.”
“Violence is merely a means to an end. Someone of your caliber would be privy with it, am I correct?”
“Indeed, nothing can slip past the KdK. I must reaffirm however, my life and family’s fealty is ironclad for The Twin Empresses’ rule. Regarding the Whisperer; we ought to ensure that our dear Fraulein doesn’t commit what she shouldn’t. Despite everything, Leithanien’s Rules and Leithanien’s Judgment must be ensured and no outside parties should be allowed a ground on it.”
“Noted…” we spoke no other words and stand impassively on this high ground. Our eyes are looking far into the encroaching cloud, the final step is close at hand…
POV: Nyx
While I was waiting for the inevitable interception, I had been ordering Conrad for things to help with the combat that will soon follow. For one; I had ordered him to go scout ahead and this time it is as expected. The Remnants, or Witch King’s Loyalist if you preferred so, had cobbled together a convoy for pursuit. For two, I ordered him to bring out one of my exoskeleton and a particular weapon for use in case I need to play defensive and reactive.
"Hey Conrad?"
[Yes, My lady?]
"Have you gathered the data?"
[Positive, it appears that inserting bits and pieces of your Arts into words helps her to regain mental stability. We are one step closer in understanding your peculiarities...]
"Heh.… good work… now, we wait."
The Drone had confirmed their identities since they still wore that same drab coat and hood back in the Mobile City, and boy aren’t they persistent. I mean, I did everything the contract had told me to, and it appears to be working. Viviana’s demeanor shows that she is not, at all, hated by the family, but the fact that her father still let this happen made me questioned that unconfirmed claim.
‘Well whatever, politics is messy and I don’t wanna dip in too deep more than necessary inside that kind of shithole… I’m still kinda feel bad with the girl, should I give her the manuscript?’
Their convoy are made up of bikes and vehicles, but I also seen a particularly large vehicle amongst their little army. Then Conrad pretty much confirmed a suspicion on the matter.
[I had detected strong residues of Arts from their center formation of the convoy. Another sensor also detected an anomaly upon the massive vehicle and. Mechanical-Originium weapon had been identified, please exercise caution.]
No shit, I mean when that hovercraft came in but fucked off something fishy is already in place around here and even more so when they keep on charging my way despite apparent fears. Am I underestimating this situation a bit too much after all?
After more than 30 minutes, my eyes finally spotted the upcoming convoy of through this damn deluge of rain. Before I unleashed my arrow, the biggest vehicle akin to a bus unraveled… and a massive transparent veil of shielding are pointed my way.
‘Wait, what the hell is that? Is that some kind of weapon? Wait no… actually is that some kind of telephone tower? Huh?’
Testing another suspicion of mine, I released the strung tautly string and the arrow flew straight like a ballista bolt. It then made contact with the shield, curiously enough it penetrates the outer shielding layer before slowing down and finally fell down harmlessly unto the ground. That’s kinda awesome, sad I can’t have it regardless.
“Conrad, am I tripping or something? Think I am honestly, since there is, apparently, a giant fucking tower on top of one of their vehicles. What’s more? They have shielding…”
[Your eyes are functioning as intended my lady, it is still quite an incredulous idea that they attached a telephone tower on top of their vehicle… one moment please, further analysis is necessary.] Conrad confirmed the situation and I know that originium technology made things lighter and most importantly very efficient for Arts casting. That’s all I know really, I was never a scientist nor a think-tank type of person, but it is ludicrous to see it moving so brazenly like… wait…
[My lady! There is something being stored on top of it, and from my conjecture, that unknown appears to be living in nature!]
My eyes refocus on a series of wires that are being cleverly hidden but not so cleverly blend well with its background when you traced it. Then I also spotted some kind of interference in place, focusing my mental synapse deep-
“Ngh!” I flinch with my head tilting sideway slightly from a negative feedback that just rip through my cerebrum. It feels like thousands upon thousands of daggers are puncturing my skull and making a pin-cushion out of my brain. Thankfully I didn’t staggered more than that mere flinch.
‘…Don’t project weakness and keep them on their toes.’ Compared to that faux-eldritch bastard of a blade, the pain from this one is like pouring alcohol or salt on wound. Painful but turns out more on an annoying spectrum the more time passes by. Speaking of which…
‘What the fuck was that!? I just got halted of seeing further inside the shield, I can still force it in if that’s what the pain is all about. Worth noticing too was why did the pain, albeit very watered down, felt familiar?’ Before I can act, the casters within their vehicles starts chanting, pretty much a symphonious cacophony of performances with their Arts. Lightning bolts, wind gales, fireballs, waterballs, and even rocks are flying our way. I can shoot them down, but that’s sounds wasteful, and the hovercraft was a special case compounded by the fact that I can’t help myself to test the 4 million arrow.
Thus my hands immediately get into action, holstering the bow behind my back neatly with its own mechanism, and pulling out the blade I had hidden behind my back, the blade has been dulled to pretty much a slab of metal. This blade is the exact same one that had stopped that shithead Emperor’s Blade own. My accomplice, Dr. Kal’tsit, never said anything about it, only stating that the blade became like this when she arrived.
Now let me utilize the blade hidden feature I’m starting to be so fond off…
The blade gleamed with silvery hue, temporarily blinding the eyes of everyone present. My right hand turned into a blur that divide the rain and causing a ring of void to be created along its path. The silvery sword cut through the incoming Arts with practiced motion, intercepting and neutralizing it.
The fireballs that was already weakened by the rain was cut in half, the earth stones were being obliterated, the lightning bolt was absorbed, and the waterballs are all returned to sky. The wind gales? Well… It is cutting my body, bloody lacerations are clear for all to see but at least these are unable to cause anything more significant than a scratch.
‘Well… Pretty sure I was both wizard and witch more than once… kinda nostalgic.’ My hands alternated themselves when holding the blade, it is dull but I don’t need sharpness at the moment. About the wound that keeps on accumulating? I can only tough it out, cutting winds and the like are harder than it looks when I also have to keep my own footing in mind. Luckily, my tail is doing a magnificent job in balancing and clutching at the van’s rail and anything I can grab upon.
Conrad is not just sitting there doing nothing. Sensing that he can’t contribute much in terms firepower due to the shield, he instead gather for potential weakness on their formation. I mean I can just order him to keep pounding the shield, but that sounds terribly inefficient. Not to mention that if it’s not cracking; there goes another hundreds of thousand…
[Analysis completed, I had confirmed using drone 11’s camera that the shield is only a forward facing one. Their flanks and rear is susceptible for flanking maneuver or a penetration strike.] Isn’t it nice to have an assistant?
“Good work, but we’re not charging out, so prep your turrets. This mission will cost me for a bit, but the compensation is well worth it… you know what? To hell with it, arm my bike with both light and heavy ordinances, better safe than sorry.”
[Acknowledged.]
The thralls on top of their vehicles are closing in on me devoid of anything, their transport are closing in. Just when I was about to tell Conrad to hurry up, the left and right side of the van unveiled its turrets, thus a pair of light originium autocannons starts blasting at the enemy immediately.
One of their vehicle got riddled with holes, and its occupant turned into Swiss cheese. The blood was promptly washed away by the rain and absorbed by the soil, then again any corpses left in the wild would make its way into maggots or fangbeasts stomach so whatever. Sadly, one of the autocannon got hit by a lucky Arts fireball, thus making the right side blinded.
One of the vehicle tried to latch itself using hook, but this vic is anything but weakly protected and the hook bounced off before getting entangled with one of their own wheels. Brant had also seems to try and help me out, when one of the hostile transport tried to corner the van, he just smash at them. I think I also saw blood spurt when he rammed one that tried to get in the way of this 10 tons pure steel.
‘I mean, I don’t mind if you wanna play rough with it, but it’s still my ride you know…? A heads-up would’ve been nice…’
Several thralls tried to jump and hijack the van, but I just kick those poor sods away with roundhouse kick before once again adopting the defensive posture. This going on for a while until they realized that the casualties is too much, and the fact that they are having a hard time hitting the van when everything is so crowded.
Remnants Arts Casters shocked expressions were particularly delicious when they saw me getting hurt but not caring one bit about it. Then I sense something I had yet to feel for years; pure hatred. Locking on my eyes towards the source, I see a particularly, ostentatiously, dressed and masked woman at me looking at me. Her emotion however is pretty much sheer hatred and disgust like I fucked her son without permission or something.
She bellowed something in Leithanien, I can’t exactly heard quite right on what she said through the rain, present occasion of me being shot at, and my Germanika is quite rusty for reference. A lull is created, confounded by them unable to do anything much and our combined effort to not make it easy.
“This day is just getting better. Wouldn’t it be nice if I can do the things they did…” An ice spear was shattered when I called for Conrad, man they this is getting annoying. Luckily, my tail made me stand upright naturally without problem.
[My Lady?] Tilting my head sideway, dodging a wind cutter or whatever, almost getting my face marred, I start explaining our next move.
“Can’t they just give up? Pretty sure the situation back there is really bad for them…” Damn, this sword is hella tough. Granted it is having a hard time in cutting paper now, but at least I have nothing to worry about maintenance.
[I suppose they tried their best precisely because something had indeed happened behind their line. To reiterate, cornered beast fought the hardest when wounded.] I want to answer immediately, but then volleys of crossbow bolts are heading my way. A few made it through and lodged itself in my body, but I’m really getting used with the pain at this point.
I look towards where it came and sees that bikes and cars playing peek-a-boo by exiting the shield and then entering it back but not before shooting whatever they have in mind. Guess it goes both ways for physical armaments huh? This shield kinda sucks compared to what I had back on some of my old worlds, but definitely impressive judging by their technological level.
“This is just blind fanaticism, wouldn’t it better for them to just go away and lie low?” This is one weird contract, usually they broke easily if I show my face, unless they’re being backed by something else… Oh how I hate shadow civil war.
“How about our little passenger? I’m still unsure if I’m doing a great job as a bodyguard to be honest.” While saying that I just realized that each of their Arts were also laced with sound residue, if not a full melody. Just how much do they love music to the point of weaponizing it!?
[I shall guarantee that nothing will befall the Young Lady. It appears however, you put less importance on the other two…] Oh yeah… uh… they are grown up enough, they can handle themselves. Well, if the rumors about Gesatzwachter is true, Brant is enough for keeping them safe. Still have no idea what that concertmaster Arts is all about nor any about Viviana’s.
“Lower priority but do your best, we’re paid for keeping only her safe, and the escorts knows it.” Settling it like that should suffice, I thin- woops, almost got hit by an ice spear there… This weather and combined with their harassment made things annoying to deal.
[Technically, you’re the only one getting paid.] How nice really, I’m here busting my ass under hails of Arts, but can still interact normally.
“You’re also the only one with me to be given pocket money frequently.” It’s really weird, after I had fought that Emperor’s finest mugger, this barely fazed me.
‘The whole thing felt lukewarm… ah fuck, I jinxed myself…’
[A fair point of view but I’m afraid we have no more luxury to spare.] Conrad finally starts to get the extra turret and stuffs ready for redeployment, and this armored van plus Terra’ idiotic technological tree is a match made in heaven. I can pack enough arsenal for taking down a whole town with a room for extra tonnage to spare.
I eyed the bike that has been tucked neatly beside it; I can jump on it just when things turned bad. It really is nice to have someone to cover your back with logistics and what not. If only Conrad was there when that shithead blade eldritch-raped me… of well…
‘Wonder if I can get an APC somewhere…? There was that Hovercraft back where I first woken up, is it still there? Maybe I can try do something about it, but I have neither the mechanic and industrial knowledge nor a good place to hide something that will potentially make every nation even more interested in me; and my otherworldly ability of being troublemaker or problem solver.’
Letting him do his own thing, I refocus my gaze, and forcing my mental synapse to penetrate the hazy shroud that is enveloping the tower. The lull allowed me to do so, and regardless of how much pain I need to endure, that tower thingy along with the shield seems to be sucking a lot of power from somewhere and judging by that huge ass vehicle carrying it, which sounds plausible.
‘So much for wanting her dead, they are really foolish…’ mentally scoffing on it, I carefully divide my mental concentration between protecting the vehicle and penetrating the shield. Gritting my teeth, biting my lips, and squeezing my palms into fist while the other is clenching the blade for precision deflects.
I have finally managed to break through the enshrouded target an-
“… Huh?”
…
…
…
“… ha… Ha… Haha…” I can feel my eyes widen into disbelief, my movements dulled and they seems to notice it thus what was once hails of arts and projectile turned into veritable rain of its own. Honestly though? That’s barely important… what I saw takes precedent.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” I can’t help but to laugh with what I had witnessed. The amount of unadulterated stupidity that I kept witnessing just tickle my funny bones during the most inopportune moments. I laughed so hard that it feels like the world had gone silent… how quaint…
‘… They are so dead…’ My laughter is losing its drive, and shimmering down into a series of mirthless, dispirited, giggles… hah… Humanity, their, and by extension mine, mentally and chronically challenged decision making is just a self-inflicted tragic comedy at this point.
Rage overcome me and I straddled my bike to launch forward. My sudden change of approach bewildered these waste of airs. I made a beeline towards the tower; and only the tower but hails of ranged attacks only further fuel my distaste. I need to be quick.
What feels like eternity of dodging, shooting, and slashing my way through these bastards, finally am I really face to face with its main formation. My sense then screamed when I almost crashed against the shield, the same way it screamed danger when I almost got hit by an oripathy years ago.
I tried to circle around but met resistance every time I tried to.
‘Just fucking let me pass!’ I tried to exploit their flanks; but was thwarted by these fucking casters. They know that I barely felt shit from their tickles, so instead they start targeting my bike. I cannot let it get destroyed, I will lose my method of transportation otherwise.
‘Come on Nyx, you can do it!’ Then I tried to use thralls that are converging on my position as a shield. How long has it been? I had been riding parallel with their formation but I had yet to get close. These fucking shield even reoriented itself to block my shots.
‘Please just let me save them!’ I tried and tried and tried… but there is nothing. Until I finally feel the last embers of life from what’s inside the tower was extinguished… my heart break. I had no choice but retreated back…
I don’t know what happens when I’m returning… only that my body is riddled with wounds… strange… I feel no pain now. Then when my sense is back, I’m back on top of the moving van… blood drenching every inch of my body. Guts and torn flesh cling upon my uniform and… he… he… he…
“AAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHH!”
My true voice that has been painstakingly hidden from the world bled itself into my voice albeit only for a fraction of a millisecond, causing the blade in my hand to glow into an eerily subdued shade of light, absorbing and tarnishing it into grey hue. I can feel my eyes getting blurry, my hands trembling, and my body shaking with barely restrained rage…
‘They just have to do it huh? It is not too hard to avoid making me feel displeased really… I can take insults in stride, I can laugh out challenge, and I rarely even care about reputation… but this one…? Welp…’
My expression is now void, I can’t even feel my own breath, body heat, and heartbeats. I’m just tired dealing with this kind of bullshit, I thought that my reputation would at least give some credence of what not to do, not a checklist of it… or perhaps they had done it out of spite for me? The motivation matters not… so…
“Shame…” I feel several doses of adrenaline and combat regeneration stimulant shot into my vein, my free hand had pressed a button on my exoskeleton. Not long after, I can feel how my veins are being pumped with chemical, both for practical and medical purpose.
My last nigh-catastrophic failure made me realize that packing as much gimmick is a correct approach but it is useless if you can’t use it… so Conrad suggested it and I made some arrangement with a Nearl’s associate to modify this exoskeleton.
‘Guess I need to show them why the Ursus 6th Army’s remnants were never thrilled with meeting me again. I kinda feel bad for the spectators, but I just can’t let something like this slide without dire, hefty, consequences…’
POV: Narrator
When the Serpent roared against the heaven; the earth trembled; air quivered; and dead souls held its breath for what feels like eternity. Tears of anger pouring down her face, before her face turned void of anything…
Witch King’s Loyalists are struck with a tidal wave of malevolent dread, even the thralls that should have been incapable of feeling emotions and having self-preservation had instinctively trembled with an emotion so clear for the whole world to acknowledge. The Casters can feel it, a wave of newfound fear is chilling them to the bone. They can’t help but wonder where this eeriness came from, it was surely not from the Serpentine Nightmare in front of them. Their Arts detectors are not reacting, only tracking the 3 people inside the van that is capable with Arts.
When one of them tried to force the instrument of locking into the Pythian, all they see is still the same; nothing but void. Not a blip, not even a shred of Arts can be detected. They roused themselves from their stupor and continuing the assault, thus they noticed how their adversary had changed its pattern of combat.
Their frontal assault had failed, and all it did was only making her angrier (or so they thought). Wilderness is being painted red with blood and decorated with fresh guts that on itself was grounded and desecrated by the moving convoy.
“Damn that schweinhund, Eideker will rue the day they cross His Majesty’s path to return and cleanse this world of Unttermenschen!” A noblewoman, a Grafin to be exact, can be seen to be fuming within one of moving vehicle. She exuded her rage with clear distaste on how things falling apart all too quickly. She moved her eyes upfront, still in denial that The Grey Serpent’s feat was not an exaggeration like what she used to see.
No longer were her parries be of flamboyant and relaxed manner, it is a series of lifeless and mechanical repetition and pattern. Her unflinching and bloodied body appears to have lost what shred of humanity they so desperately wish to see, a small comfort amidst the death that approach ever so closer. A particularly strong and brimming with hope of Wind Arts struck her neck, yet even that failed to elicit a smidgen of emotion from her face.
Nyx’s body language and expression, that were scarce to begin with, has been truly made void and cold. Despite being painted by the perilous storms and howling winds beneath the heaven and their mortal attempts, she keeps on deflecting their offenses and strikes. The thralls are moving in ever closer unto the vehicle. They have no need to eliminate the eerie snake that is visibly coiling itself, poised to strike and inject its venom deep to then tore open its foes necks when they get too close.
Her swings and dodges improve minutely for all to observe. The once cuts and slashes by both wind blades and its equivalent, along with bolts and the more mundane weaponry, made its mark less and less. One vehicle stood out, it was heavily decorated with sigils and runes that one can find in Leithanien’ class of Arts manipulation. These sigils are glowing bright in an alternating blue and golden light.
“Mein Grafin … she’s a monster…”
“What should we do!? She starts to redirect our wind casters arts!”
“Get the extra thrall there already! We can always brainwash those filths to fill up the ranks!”
“That’s not how combat work dummkopfft!”
“Caster squads 1 through 4 keep up the pressure, 5 through 7 prepare to back them up!”
“Your orders, Mein Fraulein?”
“…” The Grafin in question said nothing and instead pulled out some kind of parchment. She eyed it momentarily deliberating on what needs to be done. She then sighed, and was forced to acknowledge the fact laid in front of her eyes so vividly. Thus she, with utter distaste, must take her opponent seriously. Rectifying her stance and outlook upon the situation.
“Prepare the soldiers for offensive, and distract her while I start the communion. It shouldn’t take too long…”
‘How distasteful and baleful it is for me to admit, but the wench certainly has her merits. A shame that I can’t have her body for further research, even a defect’s body can provide insight on our cause.’ The woman bit her lower lips, chagrined but also thrilled with the possibility of testing her creation.
Back to Nyx
Nyx is boiling in anger deep inside, but her rational mind held her back from just jumping straight towards the convoy and wreak havoc again. She has her bike prepared by the side of the van, like usual, in case she needed to do something drastic. It does irked her that the Remnants seems to have grown passive, oh how she wanted to tear their spine off and piss on their corpse.
The skirmishers are still annoying as all hell, but she can’t do anything because the moment the sword is dropped, she’ll be unable to deflect further ranged attacks. She cannot afford any more surprises, and she starts to really regret being a lone wolf in this type of job. What’s more? She could have saved them if she wasn’t such a chickenshit…
She eyed her opponent hatefully, their sigils seems to have something in it to help maintaining the shield. Nyx is half-tempted to try her luck, but once again she doesn’t want to let anything harming the van. Especially when they finally tried to just ram this vehicle or shooting out the tires, the former failed because Brant’s superb driving skill and Conrad using portable launchers, and the latter due to the van’s tires being coated with harder materials.
These back and forth keeps on for a while until they can see their destination, a valley named as Spearedge that is sandwiched in-between Fastolf Mountains and Casimir’s Chasm. The rain had now dissipated and rays of light pierced through the gloomy weather that has been accompanying their journey.
The van finally entered the valley with the Grey Serpent still fending off the Remnants that are getting desperate. It goes on for a while and Nyx had half the mind to improvise with what she has.
If not for a sudden emergence of a fog on her right side, and without taking too long, a beast leap out from it and hit her square in the chest. 3 holes tore open her body while Nyx spat blood out of her mouth. With the angle she’s currently in, the beast push her over the vehicle, plummeting down from the moving vehicle to the wayside and dragged towards the lowest point of Casimir’s Chasm.
[Nyx!?] Conrad is alarmed from the sudden development, but it persevered that its master would be just alright, she is not the famed Grey Serpent for nothing. Thus it pushed aside its worry, and just dispatch the bike outside to follow after Nyx whom might be locked in combat with the beast that had pulled her down.
The Remnants cheered seeing their greatest obstacle had finally been dealt with, doesn’t matter if she came back, her absence is already more than enough.
“The vile snake is gone, all units converge on the vehicle! I want the girl alive; kill the rest!” The Witch King Loyalists’ leader starts barking orders for the convoy to envelope the lone armored vehicle, but the narrow valley causing them to bunch up and clogged it full with vehicle.
The driver is doing his best to navigate through the treacherous valley while the passengers has not much to do. Conrad is maintaining and feeding the turrets with millions worth of munitions; it will surely hurt the Grey Serpent’s pocket but it is hardly the time for sophistry.
The van navigated itself across a narrow pathway, its pursuers relentless but having a hard time in mustering enough numbers to surround their target. The van banked hard to right, narrowly avoided an abyss that would have plunged it down into gravitational death. The situation is worsening by the minute; but they finally made it through a sizable opening.
The van is now traversing on the field of wilted grasses and flowers that is surrounded that Fastolf Mountain range. Sensing the opportunity for interception; Witch King’s Loyalist bikers just sped fast ahead of its target before making a U-turn, directly on the armored van’s path. The van tried to dodge from the upcoming crash, unfortunately its opponent gave no such luxury and deliberately have the van boxed it in a tight encirclement.
The Crash seems imminent…
POV: Viviana
I watched as everything turned for the worst, The Grey Serpent had been pushed off from her footing and all I can so is to shear it into my memory. Strangely enough; my mind is not in disarray as I used too, it was clear but also filled with urgency. Our position is no less tenuous; but my mind and heart had never meld so intimately as one.
‘Why, I even felt myself to be soaring… how peculiar…’
Brant is on the verge of using his Arts; which would overcomplicate the matter the both of them had been discussing during our journey. Kola too chanted out her shield; she had once told me that she worked for the vilest men of Leithanien but never said whom.
Not long after; a thin but robust film of Arts enveloped us. I can’t exactly see much since the camera only face upon one direction; but judging by Kola’s face that is glistening with sweat and compounded by her rough breathing, safe to say that the she is pushing herself. There are less sound being transmitted through; is it her style of pity I wonder?
I spectated from the corner of my eyes on how Brant seems ready to use his Arts that was specialized for all Gesatzwachter’s use and no one else’s… It was said that he can use it when 10 people are needed… still…
‘What can I do…?’
Everything slowed down into a crawl; enemies at the forefront and our rear end. My mind raced to find an olive branch for us to do away with predicament… then I finally recalled the lesson I had taken regarding my Arts; Light absorption and shadow manipulation. Through the camera I knew that the weather had turned for the better; thus I start focusing on what little do I know. Words of my father and tutors flows within the confine of my mind…
‘Musical Arts is not just that of a tool and weapon or even means of attaining glory; Arts is life. Each syllable has meaning; it must be weaved with both determination and wit. Words uttered by fools can indeed rocked the boat; but the wise can move mountains with it. Thus remember to visualize; give meaning; and start singing.’
‘Viviana, your Arts signify that even when shadow enshrouded the world; light will always exist. The opposite is also true, there will be no shadow without light illuminate it. Do not feel ashamed for borrowing power from someone else; even I did the same. Remember how Lucinda wanted nothing more than for you to realize yourself. Controlling your Arts is one of the ways forward.’
POV: Narrator.
Thus she starts humming. Her voice is soft, immature, but also bellied the unbridled passion to be free from a cage that had always been protecting her and her mother, Lucinda Droste. Her passing was hard; she wept for days but her mother soft smile and parting words is enough to convince her otherwise.
The lights from both the heaven and cascading luminaries of secondary sources of her foes fueled her. She starts to bleed from her nose; a mark of how juvenile her control is currently at. Kola noticed it and she was about to panic when her humming had finally registered on her ears. And unknown to the Young Lady and her attendants, a wisp of silvery light draped in gray had deigned to be absorbed and used as source of power. Viviana can feel the burning heat of flame in the palm of her hands; paradoxically however, it is so soft and temperate that she almost mistook it for a custom-made gloves during winter, stabilizing her Arts and allowed greater than ever sky of her own making to be reach.
Viviana loves poetry and reading in general. She practiced her arts centered on the imagination and needs for expression; her idealized look which should have been detrimental when facing reality ends up the silver lining in this situation. Her innocent fascination of Knighthood became another crutch.
Her voice is soft like the morning wind during spring. So joyous and free; heralding the coming of a new era after the enduring the cold embrace of reality.
Her tone is like that of vigorous determination, drive, and ecstatic laughter of summer. Welcoming; celebrating; forgiving; and astonishing.
Her rhyme is that of rueful parting but also an invitation akin to that of the last rain during autumn, blessing the land once more before entering its slumber.
Finally her Arts exploded like the howling winds of winter’s blizzard, the force and meaning of its syllable synchronized as one. It heralded not just death; but a chance for patience for one to finally gaze upon the spring’s sunrise once more.
The Shadows, be it the vehicle she had been sought refuge at; the towering mountain range that shielded the field from encroaching light; the deep abyss in distance she had once traversed; the clouds hanging upon the heaven; or even the abominable tower own. She takes it all; she ruled it all! Her mind twist and turn to realize her desire and necessity, a performance of her own validity.
What would she be? Would she be a halberd; a weapon to cleave and smash forward against her enemy? Nay, her heart still unable to fathom hurting others.
What else then? Would she be an arrow? Nay, she has no desire to expend herself when she has yet to understand and realize her dream.
Then what should she be? A spear with unfurled banner mayhap? Nein, she has yet to see herself capable of shouldering such a burden…
Options running thin; what doth the maiden desire? An elegant sword surely fits her, aye? She wish for grace; but an ostentatious blade hardly a path to deliverance. Thus she discards it…
What else then? There is one… not a weapon; but no one said it can’t be one either. Meant to protect and you must bear the weight yourself. A creation since the dawn of man destined to shatter but not without battering its foes one way or another. Thus she chanted aloud:
“Fidelis Aeterna; Argyraspides!”
Resplendent light bathed the valley, the light had pushed away the remaining dark clouds but not forcefully; more in line with guiding it to rest and gracefully slumber until the spring called forth for it stand awoken. Her beautiful melody and determination to be the shield was enforced by her true desire, be A Knight that embodies chivalry but never for glory.
Pillar of light manifested and transformed into the eponymous Silver Shield; the guardian and companion from world unknown yet known. Viviana’s mind was both rend and free; she is caged no more and she wish to sing her praise for freedom she had finally attained. She will be a knight worthy of her freedom; but she will never forget for the cage that had protected and served her faithfully.
Everyone that witnessed such a splendid shows of Arts was left agape, befuddled, dazzled, and impressed regardless of who they are no matter how brief. The Silver Shield repelled all and any attempt to harm her and those she cherished, living or otherwise. Her Arts clashed like a mountain being smashed with a hurricane; natural and potent.
Leithanien always strive for the finest shows of lexical glory and literature prowess; Viviana had showcased its maximum potential. No matter how virtuous or vile someone is, they are always captivated by a superb creation of music and melody.
Her pursuers are all left stunned and astonished seeing what can only be described as miracle, for she had truly and well transcended and exceeded her own limitation. This brief splendor is enough for the vehicle to narrowly avoid the upcoming clash of steel and blood, leaving their dazzled foes back to square one.
Viviana collapsed, her body is feverish and her nose bled; yet satisfaction graced her face. The Remnants tried to resume their pursuit upon those they had briefly admired, only for the entrance to collapse. Thankfully, their van passed by safely while their foes left trapped behind them, speeding away.
When the Witch King’s Loyalists are about to re-track back towards the other end of the valley’s opening, the place where they entered, explosion rocked the said end. They are now the one entrapped between the rocky mountains of Fastolf and deep abyss of Casimir.
“What happened!?”
“Something just sealed the other end out of this place!”
“You there! Contact our back-up forces in the city, they need to leave that place for good.”
While they argue however; the remnants finally noticed that the valley had gone quiet, eerily so. Then clapping sounds echoed in the empty valley; they looked around and turned their head upward… there they see an Elafian man. His hair is styled into a neat trim, his face is wrinkled, his posture and visage is that of an old man; evidenced by one of his hand clutching a cane. Despite that however, he still stood ramrod straight while being garbed in the finest military gear.
“A fine day to you, Grafin Herkaienen, what a lovely day we’re having here. If you would be so inclined, I would be more than thrilled to share a cup of Tea with you.” The man said in a courteous manner, but it doesn’t take a genius to notice the vitriol and mockery in his voice.
The Shield’s direction shifted towards the latest intruder. The man does not appears concerned with the shield’s existence.
“Eideker, it was your doing all along!? You better not cross me, else your son-”
“My son is safe, Grafin… so that’s why… it’s a checkmate…” That’s all he said before contingents of figures clad in armor, uniform, and arts garb are standing on top of them. Leithanien Knights, Casters, and Gendarmeries surrounded the valley with their weapons and arts ready to rain hell upon their target.
“… Insolent cur! You will regret this sacrilege against His Majesty’s most faithful!”
“That may be, but I will not busy myself with such a trifling luxury if I were you… Please, do look acknowledge reality on your end of the Abyss.”
With his words, the remnants all pulled away their gaze from the metaphorical guillotine… straight unto the literal meat grinder by comparison. A lone bike engine can be heard vividly from their rear position. The Grey Serpent has gone full throttle onward, her hand clutching the originium carbine tightly and her expression morphed into utter distaste.
She navigated and butchered her way towards the tower, those who defies her are turned into a bright red puddle on the ground or mangled artwork etched onto fleshy canvas. She stood up from her ride and starts using the clogged crowd of mechanical steed and its fleshling of riders. All happens in mere blink of an eye, but she had truly reached the top of her most hated icon and she roared against the heaven before smashing her sword downward.
Tower that was brimming with perverted purpose was destroyed, soon Nyx dropped down with something on her hands… a pair of emaciated children. The remnants should have swarmed her; but their primal instinct had cowed them into utter submission. Thus Nyx is doing her best to resuscitate them… She tried and tried and tried… but no pulse, no heartbeats… she finally stopped.
Her hand gripping the blade that shone a darker shade of grey… There now stood someone all of them, safe for one, dreaded the most. The Grey Serpent, battered and bloodied but very much alive. Nyx walked forward but no one dared to stop her, her gaze is level towards the noble that she accused of being the one behind those 2’ suffering.
Herkaienen panicked seeing how death is advancing languidly on her direction. Her mouth stammered out melodies and tones to activate her arts. Balls of fire form on her hand and was promptly shot towards the Grey Serpent, it hit her square in the chest but even the sound of sizzling and burning flesh doesn’t deter her.
The Grafin tried everything but accomplished nothing. Soon she is finally standing in front of her, eyes devoid of anything.
“Y-you can’t touch me! I’m protected by the law of this land! Learn your pla- gah!” Nyx is having none of it, and starts swinging down her fist.
Each swing crack her bone; but does not shatter it.
Each swing inflict pains in the thousands; but she cannot have the luxury of subconscious.
Each swing elicit wet and bloody sounds; the spectators are aghast no matter who they are.
Each violent swing is filled to the brim with hate; and useless anger, they had departed this world after all.
“…Magnificent.”
While the Remnants and Leithanien watches on in muted horror, that word roused them form their stupor. A single figure garbed in resplendent military regalia worthy of a ruler had been observing the situation with interest. The figure is revealed to be a woman in her 30-40s, when those present realized that one Leithanien’s most feared and influential figure is amongst them; the majority kneeled in unison while their body shivered with both awe and terror. The rest? Swept into the dustbin of history without even a chance to blink.
Nyx only looked up from the bloodied, barely clinging to life, visage of this sorry excuse of a beast dung. Her eyes locked on the Black Haired Caprinae, she sports an amused smile and appraising gaze.
The Grey Serpent then stand on her feet and stared at her square in the eyes, such a sacrilege and impudent display prompted the Black Haired Caprinae bodyguards to unsheathe their swords, but she told them to stand down.
“Fraulein Nyx… I must say, you exceeded my expectation.”
Despite still fuming in anger, Nyx still has some semblance of rationality. Thus she dipped her head low in a bow, still irreverent but better than the last, before uttering her greetings towards Leithanien’s dreaded Empress. She uttered an extremely archaic form of Leithanien, which is why the words that flows from her lips surprised the Empress’s bodyguards and everyone present except for the person in question who is more intrigued with the meaning and style of her dialect.
“Verzeihen Sie meine Unverschämtheit, Ihre Kaiserliche Majestät, die Schwarze Kaiserin. (Forgive my impudence, Your Imperial Majesty, The Black Empress.)”
“Fret not, I never styled you to be one with decorum…” The Black Empress, Hildegard Grimmmacht, walked passed her. She gazed upon the remnants who opted to surrender, no doubt that their punishment would be severe but order exist. She then turned her gaze back on The Grey Serpent, whom is being encircled with Empresses’ Voices and Gesatzswächter in case she think anything untoward, and spoke…
“Let’s talk, shall we?”
[END OF CHAPTER]
Author’s Note:
Yo there! This is me, myself, and I the author who is actually not having a good time… In other news, my thesis is kinda fucked. So… uh… yeah. I’m screwed to put it mildly…
Regarding the steedbeast, it is practically a horse but it has horns, like a triceratops, fanged mouth, and 3 pairs of legs and an interesting part in my opinion, is that the beast’s body is covered in an oddly crude looking armor. I take inspirations from the Norse mythological horse; Sleipnir, FF12’s horse thingy with metal mohawk, and of course triceratops.
I have decided to scrap 4 or 5, except maybe for one, detailed scenarios I have in mind. I just want to expedite Nyx faster up to speed unto the canon timeline, since she is good enough in terms of influence, foothold, and financial… heh, IFF… anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, expediting the story.
Otherwise, I’m afraid that I’ll get into more tangents where I just can’t help myself and starts typing in words that made myself wondered what did I snorted last night. I might or might not revisit these scenarios as side stories, but only after I managed to get Nyx into the 3rd Episode at bare minimum, so brace for the Nyx’s express.
I’ll be taking a vacation since it has been a really rough year, I’m literally having a migraine.
So see you on the 15th of January.
Ciao
