“We have a situation.” One of Fortia’s Guardians came before his Goddess. A man in a simple shirt, she wasn’t so tyrannical as to make them wear the heavy bronze-gold pte when they were mere radio operators.

  “What is it?” Fortia asked.

  “Look at these images.” He spilled his folder out onto the table. It was satellite photos of the Kirinyaan juhe one just south of the tral Mountain range. “Let me arrahem, we are taking pictures every few minutes.”

  Fortia saw the man arrahe photos, they were all dark, but there attern. “Here.” The man said, he poio the furthest one on the left. “At night, we caught lights. Analysis suggests it campfires.” He moved his hand over to the one. “And here again, campfires for cooking. They crossed some forty kilometres over the span of a day.” He extended his fio eae. “And the pattern sticks, there’s been a slow retly, but we were looking at forty a day, now they’re close to Kassandora’s main base.”

  “Essa is there.” She thought for a moment. “It will just be beastmen, most likely led by Fer.” Against Essa, Fer wasn’t a threat. The former could fly, the tter could not. That skewed the odds too far in the favour of Essa, even if she had to Fer and Kassandora together, she would win.

  “But that’s not all.” He brought out more images. “Here.” There were only three. Once again, it was the ju night, a bck o on the ground, but the three photos had red fshes of light on them. “This is why we’re taking lots of images, these sights appear for only a few seds, it’s pure luck we mao catch these three.”

  “How long did that take?” Fortia asked. This was an issue. Fer and Kassandora, not a threat whatsoever. But red fshes? There was only one answer.

  “These were all taken st night. We don’t know where it is.” The man brought out a map from his folder, already marked with x’s of yellows and reds. “The yellows are the campfires, the three red x’s are the red fshes. I… well, it’s needless to say that there’s a pattern.”

  Fortia smmed her hands down and shot out of her chair. Fer and Kassandora, add Iniri and Kavaa into it, it made no difference for Essa.

  But if those red fshes were what she thought they were, Essa o retreat immediately.

  She wished Leona was here to firm.

  Iliyal took a step backwards as Olonia shot past him. The first exge of blows, he watched. Olonia said nothing, she didn’t scream, she didn’t shout, she didn’t roar, she didn’t so much as take a breath. Instead, her sabre raised, smmed from the side into Waramunt. The God merely tilted his sword upwards, he caught Olonia’s sabre and pressed forwards, until the hilt of his greatsword clicked against Olonia’s bde. With two hands on that massive bde, he pushed back, or tried to at least.

  Olonia’s blow bounced off, she stepped around the God and swiped at him from the side again. He parried it faster this time, even managing to throw her sabre back from whe came. She struck again, another blow, impossibly fast, from high up and cutting downwards as if to separate Waramunt into two perfect symmetrical pieces. He moved to the side, that heavy pte of his did nothing to slow him down and instead of parrying the blow, he merely twisted his own sword and swung towards Olonia’s chest.

  Scale mail screamed as it stopped the blow, a cacophony of steel ripping apart steel as the Goddess was thrown a few steps to the side. She recovered quickly, he sabre once again taking to the air, sshing into Waramunt. The God held up his greatsword in a riposte as Iliyal turned from the se and to his soldiers “Move!” He shouted. “Spread out, lihe wall, don’t shoot.” Not yet, Olonia o crack that armour.

  The men in bck shirts and trousers started to spread out like the Padins oher side of the hall. Guns weren’t lowered, but some me down, others leaned on the wall, the force that held the rear tuill let off small cascades of bullets to stop Iliyal’s force from being charged at from behind, but not a single drop of blood illed. Not yet. The Padins started to rest too as they watched the fight, Maisara’s men through and through. Skilled in bat, but far too honourable. Far too bound by rules of their own morality to ever excel beyond simply overwhelming an oppo with strength or skill.

  Kassandora had only one rule to war, and that was that the wiook all. Iliyal had long since accepted that rule. There was victory or defeat, nothing else mattered. “HOLD!” He shouted to his men as the Gods started to exge blows again. Olonia jumped away to from Waramunt’s and sshed at the air. She was obviously faster and stronger, else she would be dead by now. But that strength and speed was merely a foundation, a man who could not kill would never win a duel no matter how many times he fought. “Olonia!” Iliyal shouted. “BREAK HIS SWORD!” She o be made aware of her own strength.

  “HOW?” Olonia screamed back. White hair flew to the side as she made another dodge, those eyes were fog on Waramunt’s bde again. That wasn’t good. It got even worse when Waramunt took a step forwards, his bde ing in a wide swing again, Iliyal saw it immediately. He was simply pushing the Goddess back, anyone versed in bat would closed the distaer that swing and stabbed from the other side. Olonia merely jumped bad Waramunt stepped forwards.

  She would not break his bde, she would not crack his armour. She was, for all is and purposes, useless. The only thing she could do was attract attention. Iliyal took a deep breath and stalked just in front of his men as he ied Waramunt’s armour. Retively, he was no Maisara, no Fortia or Kassandora. A parison to Fer would be a parisoween a single brid a fortress.

  Waramunt spun the bde in his hand aed the swing, from one side to the other. Olonia was in full retreat now, her skirt bounced about as if it was a jingling of steel, her scale-mail was just as loud. White hair fled as Iliyal watched the blow. Waramunt wasn’t especially fast either. He was a Divine of course, so there was no parison in mortals, but the Divines Iliyal was used to were simply a css above. Waramunt was the level of a regional-champion, he was not world-css.

  A, Waramunt swung that bde again. Each time, Olonia dodged, the few times she mao swing back, the God parried her blows with his sword. He threw her attacks away as if they were mere annoyances. Olonia was not putting enough strength into her blows, she simply did not the mentality to make a warrior, the ability to let oneself go and think in the heat of the moment rather than carefully thinking through the thousands of possibilities that the instant could deviate in.

  “Olonia!” Iliyal shouted. “Do you have a blessing?” Waramunt ughed as he eased up oacks.

  “Are you pnning to fight me yourself?” He swung his bde theatrically, it swished through the air as the Padins remained grim-faced.

  “You’re not Lubskan!” Olonia shouted back. She gingerly took aep back to put even more distan between them.

  “But you do!” Iliyal shouted back.

  “I do!” Waramunt chuckled.

  “Are you going to abandon Kassandora Iliyal?” He said mogly. Iliyal silently made sure that the God would die with the elf’s hand. He had nht to even say the Goddess of War’s name.

  “Take mihen!” Iliyal shouted and Olonia tilted her head at him. Blue eyes framed by snow-white hair bli him in fusion.

  “What?” Iliyal wao give up and die. How was she so useless? Could she not even bless? Kassandora’s blessing simply had to be grabbed. It was the essence of War for Divine’s sake! Everyone had a little bit of War within them. Waramunt ughed until his wheezing echoed around the hall. A man, one of Iliyal’s soldiers patted the elf on the shoulder and leaned in.

  “Sir, there’s more ing from outside, we’re running out of ammunition.” Iliyal grimaced. A useless Goddess and now guns quickly being useless metal clubs.

  “Uood.” He replied, he simply stood there, unmoving, rifle in his hands. “OLONIA!” He shouted. “YOU HAVE FAILED!” His voied across the hall and into the hallway, the failed echoed several times. “WELL DONE!” He said sarcastically, she o get mad. She o put more of herself into the blows.

  “What?!” Olonia shouted.

  Waramunt threw his sword up into the air, it made a little spin and he caught it. “The battle was won before we even started Iliyal.” He said, theo bde to the Goddess of Lubska. “She is simply not up to par to be on a battlefield.” Iliyal didn’t care for the words. He had seen it. The man’s gloves were unarmoured on the inside. And there was a sliver uhe shoulder which revealed thick leather.

  “OLONIA!” Iliyal shouted again, he didn’t bother keeping the anger out of his voice. “IF YOU DO NOT GIVE IT EVERYTHING YOU HAVE, YOU SHOULD HAVE NEVER E HERE!” He took a step forwards. “YOU HAVE ALREADY DECLARED WAR ON THE PANTHEON, END IT.”

  Waramunt said nothing, he merely turo the Goddess as she stood there. Her fingers curled around the sabre and she threw herself at him again. It was a bad move against a long on like a greatsword, better to bait out a swing first and then close the gap. But what did she know? Iliyal merely sighed as he closed the gap between himself and Waramunt, the God didn’t even turn to look behind himself as he smmed his greatsword into Olonia’s side. She was thrown against the wall and Waramunt closed the gap quickly as Olonia pushed herself off.

  A blow from above was blocked by the sabre. Iliyal saw red blood appear from where the God had struck her scale-mail, a few shards of the metal had fallen off as she scrambled underh blow. That one she mao block, but the fist smming into her chest wasn’t dodged. Iliyal did not even bother to watch or listen to her scream of pain as she slid down the wall. He had heard tunes like that py more than enough to simply ighem at this point.

  “Olonia.” Waramunt said. “Your death here will cause an issue for everyone involved.” He spoke slowly and even took a step back. Iliyal saw the inside of the man’s thigh. It too had a gap were the man’s steel ended and give him some spaove. A train warrior would have taken advantage of the inflexibility of his armour already. “I am not here to kill you.”

  Divines and their speeches. Iliyal had little to say about that, at least a tenth of his would be dedicated to merely listening to final words if he didn’t cut them short. He found a better angle, closer to his men and further from the Padins. It would be a tough shot. “But what you did today ot be simply wiped away.” Waramunt tinued.

  “I came for the good of my try.” Olonia said. She mao pick herself up and swung the at Waramunt’s chest. Out of energy, her sabre harmlessly bounced off. Waramunt chuckled again as Iliyal stared at that gap in his thigh. Even for him, it would be a tight shot. But they were talking to each other now, it was another failure in Divinity. The Greatest of them wouldn’t make it, but the lods would fet about the mortals around them. Iliyal had seen it happen too many times.

  “You’ve won Waramunt.” Iliyal shouted from the side. If he could get theatriow… The God ughed and then… and then he did the stupidest thing Iliyal could imagine. He threw his greatsword aside, spread his arms out, tilted his head bad ughed.

  “I know Iliyal! A fortress-spirit defeating a national God?! Maisara would be prou-“ Iliyal did not let him finish. He saw the opening immediately. Underh the arm, a small gap for the shoulder, where metal could not be pced else it would loeirely. He pulled his rifle up, the red-dot set on that position, and he pulled the trigger.

  “FIRE!” Iliyal shouted as he dived down to the ground. Behind him, the Legionnaires in bck all hefted their rifles. Bullets passed over Iliyal’s head, and the hundred Padins at the end of the corridor fell as lead tore steel apart. What hit Waramunt merely ked off and harmlessly bounced into the ground. “HOLD!” Iliyal shouted and the bullets died dow to his feet just in time to avoid Waramunt’s greatsword smming down on him. “SPREAD OUT! TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROOM! SECURE THAT DOOR!” Iliyal shouted out order after order. “OLONIA! ON YOUR FEET!” Waramunt’s greatsword brushed his hair as he ducked and rolled to the side to put more distaween them. “OLONIA! UP!”

  Iliyal’s eyes managed one g Olonia, she pulled her knees up to her chest and was silently g to herself. “OLONIA! GET A HOLD!” He shouted and ducked through Waramunt’s blow again. His right arm swung to the side as the Legionnaires ran around the sides of the hall. He saw awed faces staring at him and the way he mao keep dodging the Divine’s blows. “OF YOURSELF!” Iliyal finished. He was too slow, and the greatsword clipped the end of the rifle. It ripped out of Iliyal’s grip. A finger went with it.

  If Kavaa was not ba Arika, maybe Iliyal would have regretted it. But the amount of scars he had on his chest had more than prepared him for losing half a finger. He rolled again, his arm flying up and spraying blood at the God’s helmet. He missed the visor, tough. “OLONIA!” Iliyal shouted as he dodged again and rolled to the side. Too close and Waramunt would grab him, too far and Waramunt would luh an undodgeable blow. This was the sweet spot. “MOVE YOU USELESS BITCH!”

  It was the first time he had ever talked to a Divine like that. Something for the history books. Waramunt was rec, the fingers on his right arm were starting flex as they tested their own strength again. Iliyal rolled to the side, then again, a third blow came, from above. One Iliyal would not be able to block, he dropped as loossible and slid to the side. An arm given for survival was a fair trade.

  But the trade never came. A sabre blocked Waramunt’s blow. It slid down to the hilt of the sword and threw it away. Iliyal rolled to the side, pulled his pistol out of its holster and took aim as Waramunt blocked another blow from Olonia. He lifted his arm. There! He pulled the trigger twid Waramunt stopped. He coughed. Blood came out from the lip of helmet. Iliyal pulled the trigger again. Another bullet entered Waramunt. And another. Iliyal kept squeezing.

  Waramunt took a step bad fell backwards. He looked lifted an armoured arm in disbelief. “No mortal kill a God. Never happened. Never will.” He said to himself. It was feigned shoaybe the God was actually delusional. Iliyal did not care, he expected the former, that was the smart move in a situation like this.

  “Not the first time Waramunt. It’s not the first time.” Iliyal said dryly, he winced as he pulled out a magazine from his belt ahe spent one drop to the ground. It cttered about on the cold tiles of the ground.

  “GODSLAYER!” The Legionnaires shouted from behind. They erupted into a cheer as Iliyal walked around the God. He would not e close, too many times had he seen someone py dead. He bent down saw the opening. From above, the man had room to move his neck, his armour extended outwards to protect from downwards blows. But that did not matter when he was lying on the ground.

  “I thought this was a duel.”

  “The only in war is victory.” Iliyal said replied. “At the end of the day, you’re on the ground, I’m standing. I won Waramunt.” He pulled the trigger and shot into the man’s chest. The bullet peed through his ned Iliyal heard it bounce off the inside of the God’s armour. He pulled the trigger again. And again. And he emptied the entire magazio the Divine.

  Iliyal looked to the entrahere was a line of Padins there, some had dropped their shields. Swords cttered on the ground as they took a step back. Their faces were covered by metal helmets, but Iliyal could see what they were thinking simply through the eyes: it was the stro emotion of them all. Fear. Iliyal turo his Legionnaires and took a step forwards. The Padins would take a minute or two to recover, they could put spa-between themselves by then. If they mao get into the Armoury, then Maisara could send a thousand Divines as reinforts and it wouldn’t matter. Olonia’s hand caught his shoulder.

  “You’re bleeding.” Her tone was filled with sorrow aation.

  “I’ll survive.” Iliyal said dryly as cut off a piece of his own shirt with his sword and ed it around the finger. He turo the Goddess. She was a wreck. There was no other way to describe her. Scale mail ainted red with blood, her hair white hair was messed up, locks were missihe Waramunt’s bde had given her a cut. Her legs were dirty too, and the scales over her chest were bent and disfigured. “Are you still bleeding?” She touched her side and shook her head. Iliyal finally let out a breath.

  “Olonia, you fought brilliantly.” The Goddess wiped a tear away and shook her head.

  “I did nothing.” She admitted quietly. Iliyal grabbed her hand and pulled her back towards the door, his men assembled as they prepared to breach. Several took positions fag backwards, but the ck of footsteps meant the Padins weren’t ing close. The Legionnaires eyes flicked to Waramunt, dead on the ground, and to Iliyal. Faces were painted with wide smiles and eyes shoh pride.

  “Olonia, you are not a little girl. You are a Goddess of a nation. Theatrics got Waramunt killed, save yours for when you’re with Paida and Saksma.” Iliyal said ftly. “PREPARE TO BREACH!” He shouted. “WE’RE NOT DONE HERE! ON MY MARK! WE’RE HEADING INTO THE ARMOURY!”

  “I…” Olonia said timidly. Iliyal scowled as he watched the men assemble. This was no time for spilge of emotional baggage.

  “Out with it.” But Olonia did not spill her heart out. In fact, she said the only thing that Iliyal would have surprised Iliyal.

  “I wish to join.”