"Mono/Dialogue"

  'Inner thoughts'

  Narration

  [Message/communication apparatus]

  Date: November 1091

  Location: Outskirts of Wdirosa

  POV: Narrator

  The forest had long since deserted by its many inhabitants, gone and filled with terror since unsavory actors accosted the serene vilge. In this stillness and dread-filled air, not all facets of the world were silent. Unfortunately, the one reigning this charged silence would be none other than mankind’s ultimate folly: conflict.

  The sharp barking of Originium arts banished the serenity that had once reigned supreme. A figure flitting and dashing in bck dodging and pursuing another silhouette of white and grey; of esoteric energy and Originium steel-cd figure against a pair of stern lights amidst the dark. Trees were made victim of their dance of death, earth and wind made silent audience upon which a pair of warrior from olden days fought with ferocity scarcely seen in this modern age.

  These figures are the Chapin Immanuel and one of Ursus’ finest enforcer and executioner of its will, the Emperor’s Bde. His wings flickered through the treeline as he evade and weave through the forest with practiced steps bereft of uncertainty. Immanuel’s old would have been a deadly detriment, his old age catching up to him faster than ever.

  Immanuel made another insurance and aimed his gun to the sky. Streaking at transonic speed, the bullet cut through the thick canopy and a rge explosion illuminated the sky; a fre to banish the dark and can be seen across the pins surroundings the woods.

  ‘That should get the gunship’s attention… the sound of my gun should alert them too, but there’s no such thing as overkill and too cautious back in my line of work.’ His gaze was soon illuminated, showing a pair of gring eyes he often wore when he was young and hale. Now he prepare himself for a true battle ever since the retirement.

  Beneath his flowing, loose, and aged robe are glints of metal. Weapon of a new age, to help propel the ability of anyone wearing it a notch or two above their already robust body. Flipping that logic around, this piece of engineering marvel provides an edge to those with unfortunate physique; whether due to accident, consequences, or natural causes.

  Adenaver had insisted he wears one of the many exoskeletons back inside the VTOL. An exoskeleton small enough to be worn and concealed beneath Cordelian standard uniform, but also much better because the previous owner had too much money.

  Nyx had generously set aside funds to design a prototype exoskeleton meant for those she cherishes, including one she has in mind for her lovely fool of a man. Regardless of her fantasy, one such exoskeleton is being worn by Immanuel. This version's enhanced flexibility and speed are coupled by adequately durable psteel made for rumored prototype body armor in Columbia meant for Special Forces or in other words form-fitting custom-made and not all-in-one military-grade.

  His body might be strained against the way it was forced to move and conform, but addition of combat stimunt and steady power supply allow him to glide and chart the forest to maintain the grace that befits his age but with ferocity of long lost youth.

  The Chapin made a mental note that he would convey his gratitude once he managed to survive this deadly dance. Even as is, with technology and experience wielded to the extreme potency, he cannot afford to take a hit too often. His younger self should have been able to shrug off even a full-powered punch, as long as it doesn’t happen often, but he doubts he can do so now.

  The old Sankta soon noticed a potential to be exploited in between shots of his Guardian Gun. A weakness he knows very well.

  ‘Impatience, desire, and hunger for glory, sharp and tight grip on the Bde’s sword… more impatience…’ He noted every bit of information, his body may wither but his mind is as hale as the day he trudged over the nd to spread the Law’s justice and order.

  He reevaluated his approach, slowing down on the rate of fire in favor of an unexpected strike. Of course, that also means he allows the Bde to shorten the distance between them, but he knows just the way to teach brash newcomers how things are done in his time.

  “You’re quite the sloppy individual; young and ill-tempered. I highly question the Emperor's commitment to this doggerel… Perhaps it was sanctioned, but who commanded this daring operation on foreign soil? This could escate into a war your people can never afford.”

  “Your words mean nothing to me, Sankta. Where I stood is where Ursu-” He cut them off with a loud bang. The Bde easily evaded it, as they come to expect it. What they did not expect, was the bullet to explode behind them.

  Immanuel used this moment to blend with the trees, slowing down his steps until there was only silence. He doubted it would st, but he better use this moment to rethink his strategy, as he reloaded and calmed down his Arts, he added a note of jest as the Old Chapin conversed.

  “That’s a fundamental issue with your old methods; archaic, inflexible, unfeasible, and extraneously orthodox. This world is always shifting, but unlike others who wish to rectify their problems, yours does the opposite and bmes it upon others.”

  He pressed a button on his wrist, and a sharp needle was soon jabbed into his neck. He stifles a hiss as a combat stimunt energizes his old bones. His veins pulse with energy with each beating of his heart. Old muscles pulse hard as if singing a dawning rebirth, the bloodstream supercharged with intense activity, and Arts energy can be gathered with ample opportunity. Such a decision will surely worry a certain someone to no end.

  And yet that’s precisely why. He would have been in trouble if was just a normal old coot with a foot inside a grave. Many often forget the fact that this Old Sankta had once trudged the known nd under the auspice of his office and Laterano’s Will. A little bit more legwork won’t hurt in the long term. This momentary reprieve also allows his body a chance to adjust to the sudden beating of artificial rejuvenation.

  “Yet Ursus stands.” The Bde yanked a tree root free from the earth and swung it around like a weapon. Showcasing his strength or perhaps trying to make a point. Immanuel wasn’t amused; let alone impressed.

  “Ursus stand, strong and unassaible. Unlike the Victorian who rots on their urels. Leithanien defanged and led by impotent twin rulers, or Yan slowly being subsumed with its waning power.”

  “They are changing, adapting, and knowing that the future is always precarious… had Higashi taught you nothing?” His hiding spot soon erupted in a rge blossoming crystal, he had struck a sore nerve in their psyche. He continues his flight with the Bde hot on his heels, but his rejuvenated body can and will be able to harness much greater with both stimunt and modern equipment.

  Aside from skills and many bitter lessons to accompany his life, this old silver and ptinum-pted revolver would be his salvation. Each time the trigger was activated, with a deceptively lethal mass of Originium propelnt expelled, even his opponent noticed its danger. It was less of a gun to pacify a souk, but more in line with a hand cannon to tear apart armor and thick hides belonging to races of udable toughness.

  Immanuel’s Guardian Gun is, in every sense of the word, a handheld siege weapon. If he had enough time to fully concentrate on his Art, the Bde was always forced to unsheathe his bck sword to block the incoming hit. An explosion of bluish-red bloomed when Originium charged bullet cshed against esoteric steel.

  The very air turned a smoky haze and cshed against the cooling temperature of the upcoming winter. Bck snowfkes were blown away with each successive hit that would have been fatal against a lesser opponent. His shots were deadly, but Immanuel carefully avoided damaging the Emperor’s Bde gasmask and sigils behind their backs.

  His opponent grunted out in pain, unable to completely block off the test hit, but that’s good enough when they take into account who is their opponent, much to their chagrin. If Nyx is present to witness this, she might consider aligning herself with Laterano to have an anointed and real guardian gun of her own.

  Guardian Guns’ full potential can only be unleashed by its true owner.

  Otherwise, Nyx will ensure to disregard any logical and delicate choices in favor of going full rabid hell-hound towards anyone daring so much as touching a hair of her family.

  Immanuel’s bonded guardian once belonged to a long line of great people, used and abused by time and duty as rich and tested as the Bedouin of Sargon. Its bark is an almost deafening bell that tolls against all who were forced to bear it, less of a snap and crack against the wind, but more of a booming that rattles the very air and molecules of oxygen.

  Each shot is a dire portent against a lesser man and mind, but his opponent is no lesser.

  The Bde moves with grace befitting its size as a manmade monster, a weapon to safeguard Ursus’s soil and wrench forth its birthright to survive from the unforgiving cold that draped the way death is always certain. If Immanuel glides and weaves through thickets, underbrushes, and muddy soil, the Bde’s charge forth no different than a raging Forte.

  Their body tempered and perfected through ritual which ruined the soul and perhaps the mind is enough to topple trees that have been witness to the changing of seasons like toothpicks. They often closed the distance to apply force and unch the earth as an impromptu projectile, forcing Immanuel to change his direction if he wished not to waste his precious ammunition.

  Thus he fights without missteps and clumsy hesitation. His shots appear to bisect the air and obstacles to always hit true; streaking through the leaves or stones. Yet the truth is not so simple. For each shot was a calcuted mental deliberation, of which error must be minimized lest the scales are slowly tipped away from his favor.

  A fraction of a second to line up the shot was another breath he lost and yielded to the enemy. Each wasted movement meant that the tight ring of encirclement for this battle of attrition got tighter and deadlier. Immanuel is trapped by both his aging body’s limitation and the bde encroaching closer.

  He duly regretted coming towards the forest alone, but what’s done is done and he must race back through the deep. He consults his memory trace back, eager to dismiss this fwed engagement as fast as he can but the Bde is relentless.

  When he attempts to dash through the Bde’s tight-knit effort, he finds himself almost smmed by trees felled by the Emperor’s finest servant. He can obliterate such an obstacle with his guardian gun, but that means he will be left vulnerable to potential slip in focus. His opponent must have been aiming for the same idea, at least that’s the logical point he wished to lodge.

  Another problem would be the logistics and potent use of his advantage in range.

  Originium bullets aren’t cheap, but this is even more so because it is handmade. Handmade, and thus utterly scarce. He doubts this rude opponent of his will acquiesce him to an early morning tea. The sun had yet to edge the known horizon, but even if it did, the darkness of this battlefield prevented him from knowing for sure.

  He tried to check his communication link, but he was unable to connect to anyone. He mused that perhaps another, different, set of jamming devices had been brought by the Bde, and he wondered if he could take it out. Regardless, his situation is not a comfortable one. If he cannot rely on it, then he must leg it.

  ‘It’s quite a lucky streak how working and helping around the vilge allowed me to avoid muscle cramps, for now.’ He joked bitterly, a bid to push down any certainties that bubbled onto the surface.

  Truth be told, he had been spending quite a bit of time trying to find those sigils. It was never meant to be easy, and combing through the entire area alone had been sapping his energy further. He mented his subsequent bad luck, but he will never regret not bringing them to witness what they shouldn’t have.

  His mental encouragement aside, each shot failing its intended target will push him away from the sole objective of leaving the forest. His mind warred internally on whether or not there was time to erase those sigils belonging to the northern tribes, but that’s a luxury he could not entertain.

  His shots are true, but he rather owns the luxury of open space and soft caress of the sun. Fending his opponent whom wore an appropriate robe with their surroundings. Any sliver of moonlights can end up as a distraction, his eyes will contract, readjust, and cost him its adapted sight.

  The Bde notices it, but they cannot just fall all the trees, that is counter-productive with the intent of entrapping the old Sankta. They cannot afford another failure, having one of theirs failing in delivering justice to that despicable worm was shameful enough.

  This back and forth, plus a game of who shall tire first ensues. Ge inches away from the depths and towards the destroyed fields of Wdirosa. Unfortunately, his dastardly foe understood his aim, and they were not willing to let him leave in peace. This game of running and gunning is not completely lopsided, no. The bastard’s armor is weaved with bckish energy, dispersing Originium-contaminated shrapnel to an acceptable degree.

  At st, every inch forcefully wrenched away from him meant that the Emperor’s Bde could commence their retaliatory strikes. A bck crystalline was unched from a small tear in reality, but the exoskeleton also came up with another function. A thin fiment of Arts energy flickered forth to slow down the incoming projectile, allowing Immanuel some much-needed leeway to even the pying field.

  That being said, the exoskeleton only has a set of ten for such a st-ditch defensive measure. Nyx had learned from her mistake almost two decades ago and she will be damned if she doesn’t take anti-projective measures in mind.

  Another shot was intercepted by the Bde’s darkened sword, cutting the projectile in half before the split Originium bullet bloomed into a pair of explosions. The bde’s weapon had rend through a tree, cutting it down swiftly, and soon they delivered a kick to unch wooden splinters speeding through the air.

  Immanuel weighed his options, and he was forced to use his defensive system. He is not Nyx who can afford to get smmed by a train, his body is that of a true mortal; frail and brittle. That snap decision proves fruitful as his foe follows up his kick with another jagged crystal that was slowed and evaded masterfully.

  His opponent let out vapor and a hiss, displeasure, and anger for having such a hard time subduing or eliminating an old man. A mutual sentiment, Immanuel very much minded how his current self is holding him back.

  The Bde finally decided to stop trying on precise and accurate long-range strikes, they coalesced bck crystalline on their palm; a bckish mineral that soon broke into shards. The Sankta noticed the shift, and he barely made it out of the danger zone. Storms of shards flew through the treeline, cutting the wind and screaming a howl of its master’s mounting fury.

  It cks the grace that one could expect from someone of their stature, but people often forget that Ursus cared not for elegance but only for results. Even if it opens up the space for Immanuel to use, that means little if he cannot utilize it. Of course, such a thing causes immense strain, even for a super soldier.

  This action was not in vain, Immanuel was forced to cease his attack and focus on further evasion. These amounts of shards flying around made it a poor adversary for the defensive shield, and it was proven. When the Old Sankta deployed another one, it was promptly overwhelmed in less than a few seconds.

  He bit down a groan of pain as a few projectiles managed to graze his body, burning and gouging flesh unfortunate enough to be on its path. Immanuel almost tripped on a branch, but the exoskeleton’s auto-gyro and skeletal frame rigidity helped his bance. It forces him to take a lengthier route, choosing the thickest congregation of foliage.

  Yet, the Bde always seemingly knows where he is. Then a thought struck him, something his daughter had mused when she was around.

  ‘Is this what Nyx meant as thermal imaging? If it’s not that, perhaps the Bde had added another repertoire of enhancement and skill. If this is happening, the situation in the far north must have necessitated this uncharacteristically radical change…’ His mind churns with ideas, but he cannot afford to theorize further.

  Trees began tumbling down to clear a path and direct line of sight between them, this cannot go on. He stood his ground and shot his hand cannon towards the Bde’s feet, they reacted by bending low and prepared an Iai to deflect an incoming shot, but he didn’t aim for their mobility.

  Immanuel flicked his finger for a brief moment to squeeze the trigger and a shot soon streaked towards the armor’s weak point… that was not the target either. His bullet rocked the ground beneath his opponent, obscuring their vision before firing a pair in rapid succession through it.

  He was more than acquainted with the more esoteric opponent, be it from the frigid north of vast and forgotten south. He is privy on how to slow down the upcoming bck mass of death without actually dealing a death blow. So he wasn’t the least surprised that his little trick failed, even one shot had veered off course.

  But one did go through the earth and send chunks of shrapnel, earthen shards, but surely such a thing won’t harm them? Correct, which is why he is not one of the best gunslingers in Laterano meant merely for show. He smoothly racked the chamber and inserted a new round, just one, but that’s what he needed.

  This is the real one, connecting with the Bde’s helmet that staggered them and held their advance. A soft hiss of pain and grunted rage signaled that his attack was enough to slow them down. Immanuel takes this chance… and closes the distance. He emptied his revolver, except for the sixth that is snugly held in pce and loaded a next set of five.

  His opponent was shocked that their fleeing quarry made a rapid mad dash towards them. Reeling from this unexpected development, they tried to coalesce more shards into reality, but their body is under heavy strain.

  Both sides braced for a hand-to-hand engagement.

  While it is true that he does possess a much more lethargic body compared to his opponent, he can still make it up with initiative. The Emperor’s Bde throws a sweeping haymaker, intending to stop his charge and crack his bone with sheer brute force.

  Their opponent wastes no time aims at their upper shoulder and pulls the trigger. With a bang he managed to stagger them, causing the incoming hit to be lessened. He deftly used the upcoming force and pivoted on the sole of his feet, allowing him to aim his weapon at close range once again.

  The Bde anticipated this and willed a bck fiment of their own, and evaded a clean hit. Evaded it might be, they still feel the sting.

  One might wonder why, but there are two reasons: Originium Arts and Lateran Originium Bullet.

  It is not outside the realm of possibility that being a handmade bullet, Immanuel was able to procure a diversified and potent bullet for a specific occasion. The Ursine’s eyes briefly made contact with how the newest bullet ripped right through their shielding and propelled further to fell trees on the way.

  Immanuel had bullets specifically meant to penetrate, limited in number but it was enough to keep his guest guessing. Yet, if he takes the very best scenario in mind, he rather not resort to such an option. As, fate had refused him any sort of clemency, and if the goddess of fate is being bitch, might as well force her hand.

  His opponent is getting increasingly troubled, despite their supposedly peak performance and complete control when dueling one on one. The Emperor’s Bde sheer focus to not get hit once again in vital part gives credence to his marksmanship and a handcannon masquerading an antique.

  They wondered how this old and frail-looking old man could be so slippery to catch. This is no different in how Nyx is also very slippery to fend off, but the difference is that she can take a beating in strides.

  His skill and experience certainly py the part, but they are the Empire of Ursus Emperor’s Bde. Even if the current Emperor was deemed unworthy of their service, these super soldiers prided themselves on where they marched being Ursus’s test conquest. The Emperor’s Bde had been given a dossier regarding the retired agents, now called Executors, but even they are left reeling that these frail old men can pack a huge firepower and use it well.

  As well as he can that is.

  Immanuel's fatigue is mounting, and unlike Nyx, his body cannot stand an overdose of combat stimunt enough to kill several herds of burdenbeasts. His exoskeleton artificial muscle whirred softly as it yet made another brief recourse from an incoming jagged crystal. He doesn’t block, he leaves himself being flung around by the force of his opponent’s strike.

  Suffering cramps and overstretched muscles are paltry payments to ensure the next part of his py succeeds. The Bdes always time their counterattack when Immanuel was forced to reload his Guardian revolver, a time g that ever increasingly went frantic.

  He keeps on maintaining a skirmishing distance in lieu of allowing the Bde to waste their energy trying to make a punch or two. They did try to conjure more of those crystalline, but Immanuel easily disarmed such an attempt, a motion that keeps on repeating and feeds further impatience upon them.

  Soon, the Bde seems to have given up on completely deflecting a shot and focused on pursuing him. Their armor slowly cracked, and Immanuel ended up being the one troubled. They seem to notice it too, and focusing more on

  As, even his fwlessness gave way to a simple mishap. It was when he was changing onto yet another skirmishing distance. He has been running, jumping, and keeps on retreating toward the forest’s edge that such a thing turned into an ingrained objective. His opponent patiently weathered painful hit after painful hit.

  He had been very cognizant to avoid the counterattack, testing and maniputing their inexperience. That came to a head when they drew their sword… and thrown it at him. He managed to deflect the sword thrown at Lethal with a shot, but he failed to avoid the Bde throwing and rending the earth with their hands.

  “Ngh-?!” Immanuel was thrown aside, a cracking sound smashed his ribs as fist-sized gravel smashed his armored body. His body then snagged over a tree branch before the exoskeleton auto-bancing system helped him right his posture, and kept on guiding his feet to never stop running. The Old Man spat blood at his feet and gred at the side where he got hit.

  “… I am honored to see how Ursus thinks so highly of me.” He masked a hiss of pain with utterance. A medical syringe had been injected into his body, dousing his nerves with a dosage of painkiller and much-needed internal regeneration.

  “I must admit… your fame precedes you, but as you’re ailing and old.” The Emperor’s Bde regained their cool and threw away their scabbard. No matter how much they loathe it, this man in front of them is the real deal. The Old Chapin chuckled bitterly,

  “No consideration for an old man? Isn’t it a chivalrous sentiment to level the pying field by not cornering a frail Sankta long past his prime in time?” Immanuel slowly shifts the chamber of his revolver a step away from the sixth. He sighed quietly while his drugged body nursed its growing fatigue and fgging healing process.

  Then, his Guardian Gun sings of danger from an opposite direction. His attention snapped against the chill caress of fate at his spine. A portent of worse to come.

  From the corner of his vision, a figure garbed simirly in all bck as the one he I facing emerged. The Old Chapin’s eyes widened as another Emperor’s bde made themselves known. His heart thundered as the test interloper was less than ten meters away and moving at full speed.

  Noticing that slight shift in attention, the bde in front of him dashed forth with a sword raised. There’s no time to dodge, for he is sandwiched between two eldritch steel. Screaming as the wind cries out a ringing of death and doom.

  He dodged an incoming projectile just a heartbeat ter, muscle memory had been awoken from numerous brushes with death. He pivots on his heel, smashing the incoming projectile a shot while evading the other using the inertia of his body.

  Immanuel cannot afford to fight against two of them, so he does the only thing one person can ever hope to do… he run. Strong as he might be, even his youthful self will struggle with facing two Emperor’s Bde. He is trapped between two enclosing maws. Two executioners, he was never meant to escape it seems.

  His pursuers won’t let him have such a moment.

  They moved in tandem like two hunters finally cornering their prey. Death’s harbingers are closing on him like a raging tide of fate itself, eager to drag him down the abyss. Immanuel re-shifted his gun away from the sixth chamber.

  That Sankta crashed through the thicket, dodging incoming wooden splinters brought forth by a close call of an Emperor’s Bde haymaker. He keeps in mind the other Bde running retively parallel to his side, this particur Bde was the one that was already injured and took it upon themselves to keep him on his toes.

  Every time he tried to move through a trail, that insufferable Bde would impede him by blocking his way with a crystal. As all things are, he was soon forced to block a hit coming from the pursuing and hale Bde hot on his heels.

  “!!!” A hit connected, and he was flung to the side. This time his exoskeleton failed to adjust for the fall because it was already anticipating an incoming strike. The artificial limbs shot out its countermeasure when it deemed him to be in danger. He was thrown off the ground, missing a crystal that grazed his cheek.

  The Bde that has been waiting for that opportune moment hissed in annoyance. Another one had been deflected by that meddlesome woman’s creation. They swear that if Nyx is here, she will be torn limb from limb and her head paraded around Deity Gryphenburg. For now, they continue to follow the pursuit.

  Immanuel’s body ached as he rolled down through bushes. His clothes snagged on branches here and there, tearing and ripping some skin and flesh along the way. He had been weakened by the rapidly intensifying combat. His winded self was further strained as combat stimunt lost its practical edge.

  He can risk using another dosage, but there’s a high chance he will regret it ter on.

  He had no choice, and thus he allowed himself to be injected with another dose. His body burns with energy, but his lungs cannot bear the strain. Immanuel stood up just in time as a tree fell on where he had been writhing beforehand.

  His pursuers briefly stopped as a soft humming sound can be heard above them. They craned their heads to see a huge VTOL armed to the teeth aiming their weapons their way. Without waiting for identification or order, the VTOL unleashed hell.

  Earth was torn asunder under a ton's worth of highly explosive material, kicking up dust and destroying the foliage. The Originium autocannon roared and rend the night away, each bullet cost an average Kazimierzian their average hourly wage. This expensive piece of machinery rains hell on them, and it has much more to spare.

  [This is Adenaver, get on the rope quick!] A synthetic voice rang in his earpiece, signaling that partial communication had been restored. Immanuel dragged his exhausted and battered body towards the lifeline, but the damaged gyro had now turned against him. It whirred with metallic groaning and electric fizzles, the experimental nature of this armored suit finally shows.

  His situation gets worse.

  As the VTOL tried to lower a rope for him to be extracted, the Bdes were ready. Their armor was damaged, but their eldritch shielding protected them from shrapnel and explosive force.

  They soon aimed at the VTOL, streams of crystal smming and screeching over its armored hull. This VTOL is controlled through an onboard, independent, server thus requiring no human operator. The integrity of the aircraft meant it could withstand such a barrage but there would be limits and the present hostiles acted smart.

  They began aiming for the hovering engine, and it forced the VTOL to hover higher. One particur crystal almost smmed into an opening on its hover engine, the rotor was also soon become a target. Unlike Immanuel who has the luxury of cover granted by the woods, the VTOL has no such thing. It is hovering over the foliage like a sore thumb, and a big target at it is trying to extract Immanuel to safety.

  However, CONRAD will not let him fight on the ground alone. Opening its back ramp, a dozen automated and armed exoskeletons dropped down. A pair immediately headed towards the injured Sankta, hefting him up and providing overwatch while the other ten turned their Originium guns and repeater scorpion on the Bdes.

  Immanuel now finds himself screened by metal and steel while his supporting exoskeleton heads for open ground. The escorts began firing, and the next phase of this battle continued.

  While he grappled with life and death, one might wonder… where are they?

  -

  -

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  -

  It came so fast, precise with utter prejudice, and lethal in every sense of the word. Jagged crystal rained down on them, felling a few unfortunate militias and injuring the PMCs who managed to get their bearings. At first, they thought the Catastrophe had started sooner than even their worst estimate, but it was something arguably far worse. From the darkness of the night, passing through their fgging and gging defense network that is on its way to being abandoned, they came.

  “Ngh!” Liam grits his teeth with a sword in hand while deflecting an incoming bck crystal meant for his comrade. His armor is dented, and around him would be other exhausted but determined fighters. The Silvernces barely had enough time to gather their breath before a problem stride onto them.

  They had just finished evacuating the st few vilgers to safety, ensuring to give them a proper escort, and proceeded on waiting for the Old Sankta to return. It is not a surprise that after such a lengthy and hard evacuation procedure, most are still winded. Not even properly setting enough time to rest their body after strenuous combat with unknown foes and subsequent search and rescue.

  Unfortunately instead of the kind and aged man returning from the forest, they are forced to contend with Ursus’s finest coming unannounced with what might be considered a tacit decration of hostility. Their brazenness could be some kind of overarching agenda, but no one could be certain other than the fact someone is out there to kill them.

  Liam puts himself in harm’s way to cover for his men, his left pauldron singed away after a powerful force ripped it away. If he was even a second te, one of his injured Silvernce comrades would have been rendered a past tense, but it came at the cost of his hand cramping from the sheer force of what he had fended off.

  Sword as sharp as it rendered his bde cracking under duress. The chill wind of death and the upcoming burst of bckened snowfkes clued him in on this test assaint. His bde burst with a dimming light but said light can still kill an ordinary soldier a hundred times over.

  Sadly, his opponent is anything but ordinary.

  “Weak. Is this Kazimierz’s finest were reduced onto? Mewling children who cked your predecessor’s sharpened spear and chivalry? This country had gone soft.” An Emperor’s Bde mocked through the ragged rasp of their gasmask.

  Unlike the one Immanuel fought, this one carried the air of a more seasoned warrior. They keep their distance, sword unsheathed with a bck crystal hovering on their left palm. Their eyes might be staring towards Liam, but their body nguage speaks of uneasy wariness. They had been confident that these exhausted warriors would be easy picking, as fate deemed it amusing that such a ploy fall ft.

  “Ursus had gone mad to think it can trudge onto Kazmierz’s soil so arrogantly.” Liam’s gaze briefly flicked to the girl, Sil, whose metallic arm frizzled and dented with visible deformation.

  She had been there, raising her shield before it was torn into two with that esoteric bde veiled in darkness. Her arm had been the reason she wasn’t bisected into two, before being flung away like a doll. Instead of trembling in fear, her face morphs into an ugly, combative, snarl of a woman made to challenge her limit.

  ‘Sil is the Grey Serpent’s student… that much is unquestionable.’ He bitterly joked to himself. She had seen what Nyx had been capable of, turning riff-raffs into proper soldiers. Ex-criminal to productive members of society… or making them a good batch of fertilizer.

  Sil clutched her battleaxe with two hands, her expression maintaining that same humiliated fury. The Bde flicked their gaze on her, before looking back at him. Such a gesture enraged the Zak woman, but Liam voice’s knocked some sense into her.

  “Do not let yourself be goaded by this monster. That is precisely what they wish you do…”

  “… Tch… Suit yourself, fancy bastard.” Her snarl of agreement is better than nothing. Liam turned his gaze back at the bde, acutely aware that one of his men had begun moving for a strike. Still, he needs to know why Ursus had done something so btantly stupid as if they fear no consequences.

  “It saddens me that the field of Kazimierz will once again bury the dead of foolish Ursine men. Does your country have no regard for the life of your people?” The Bde’s posture was undeterred, if anything his word was received with a mocking hiss.

  “That’s the fundamental difference between us. Your country sits on its urels, and for what? To have its first line of defense sequestered away and bid for bread and circus?”

  “You would do well to not compare those who fought and died for Kazimierz’s freedom with fake actors.”

  “And yet the fake actors include Margaret Nearl, the Tenebrous Hero, and even the Hero of Daybreak over the Golden Prairie were left weak and without influence.” Their words stung. It did, and Liam was left with no rebuttal.

  “Ursus would have better use of such people. They would have been our finest, and even ushering a new age for a revival of a worthy rival, the Kingdom of Kazimierz… not this cesspool of indulgence for foreign interference.” The Emperor’s executioner of his will crackled with crimson thunder over their misty veil.

  “We have a vision of strength that could never be severed by mere bureaucratic voice. You let yourself be beholden by such weaklings is all the proof that I need.” Taking their stance, they awaited Liam and his comrades’ move. They cared not for facing this mockery of a once astounding foe.

  For Ursus, there’s only one way forward.

  The battle for Wdirosa had yet to end.

  [END OF CHAPTER]

  Author’s Note:

  Yo there, this is me, myself, and I, the author who is suffering from depression. So I’m sorry but there will be further dey for both this and Records of Regalia.

  Here we see how the battle finally started. It comes down to how fast can Nyx arrive, yes, but it is more like how well the exhausted and battered defenders can hold. Nyx will come… whether the defenders stay intact is another problem.

  Update one and the second one will come with an announcement, nothing serious… I hope.

  Ciao