VI
Command of Kristoff’s Army
With the terrain against them, Major General Kristoff’s division of the Helios Knights were at first content to commit themselves to defense. But as the distance between the two armies narrowed, the true might of the Helios Knights became more and more pronounced.
While the fighting continued, Kristoff’s aide, Captain Maschera, came to him with a frown on his face.
“My lord,” he said, “the Death God’s force is nowhere near as strong as we’d heard. I know we have twice their numbers, but even so, I’m a little taken aback. I can’t fathom how they were able to dominate the Crimson Knights.”
“You think so too, Maschera?” Kristoff asked.
“Yes, ser.”
“Truthfully, I was just thinking the same. There’s something subdued, even passive in how they fight. And I can’t work out why the Death God is hanging back there.”
The stories all said that the Death God was the type to actively place herself on the front lines, but although several hours had passed since the fighting commenced, she hadn’t once come forward. Kristoff, gripped by an unnameable sense of disquiet, had kept a wary eye on her and concluded that, without a doubt, something was off.
“I think we should push forward, Lord Kristoff,” Maschera said.
“Agreed. If the Death God isn’t going to fight, perhaps we ought to see this as an opportunity.”
One after another, his impatient officers came to him all expressing the same opinion: they should go on the offensive. Kristoff, who was already thinking that if he didn’t do something, it was going to start to impact morale, decided to take their suggestions and put them into motion.
Just then, a messenger appeared before him, swaying on his feet and covered in blood. He brought shocking news.
“No! General Patrick is dead?!”
“Yes, ser...” the messenger replied. “The Death God was too much for him...”
“The Death God?!” Kristoff said, taking a step toward the messenger. “We’re fighting the Death God here!” His officers experienced an even more devastating shock. It was hard enough to believe that anyone could have killed Patrick—now there were two Death Gods as well? It was insanity.
“I don’t know the details, ser, but I can confirm the Death God was there. She brought the Second Legion back from the brink of destruction. Our main force is fleeing in a state of panic. It won’t be long...” The messenger faltered but pushed on. “It won’t be long ’til she gets here. You have...to retreat...with all haste...” He didn’t get any further. Blood spouted from his mouth as he collapsed facedown to the ground, several broken arrows protruding from his back. He was dead before he hit the ground.
His officers stood frozen in dismay. For Kristoff, all his doubts had melted away in a flash.
The passivity of the enemy force. The Death God hanging back from the front line.
It all makes sense now... he thought, feeling hysterical laughter bubbling up within him and unable to hold it back. His officers watched him, apprehension on their faces.
“We’ve been had!” he cried. “Our Death God is an imposter.”
Maschera was dumbfounded. “An imposter? But then who are we fighting?”
“A decoy, I presume. They’ve led us on a dance, tricking us into giving them time.” Another chuckle escaped him. “Oh, we’ve really bungled this, haven’t we?”
There was a pause. Maschera was the first to break the silence. “Then there’s no time to waste,” he said. “We need to retreat before we’re caught between attackers on both sides.”
His suggestion aligned with what accepted military practice dictated, and the hard lines on his face spoke to the gravity of their situation. But something in Kristoff balked at the idea of slinking away in disgrace from a fight. The House of Raptor was a proud warrior family, and as heir to that line, he had his honor to consider. He couldn’t run away.
“Get into an arrowhead formation. We’ll break through the enemy’s center, then escape down the other side of the hill. On the way, I’ll take off the imposter’s head, as a souvenir.”
“Ser, assuming that’s even possible, there’s no point in killing the imposter now. We ought to focus on retreating,” Maschera protested, but Kristoff wouldn’t hear it. He snorted in disgust.
“Point? Who cares about the point? This disgrace will tarnish the reputation of the House of Raptor. You have your orders. Now get the soldiers into formation.”
With reluctance, Maschera replied, “Understood, ser.”
Command of the Decoy Force
The Helios Knights reformed into an arrowhead formation. Together they charged forward, not unlike an avalanche, aiming to pierce the center of their ranks. Ellis watched them coming from her place on the back lines beside Luke, who bellowed out commands.
“They finally noticed that we beat their main force, huh?” she observed.
“Looks like it,” he said, spitting in disgust. “They’re trying to break through us and escape. And we were so close to catching them in a vise.” Ellis wasn’t used to hearing such frustration from her older brother. He usually put on a show of cool rationality. He must’ve been nearing his limit.
The battle had progressed in their favor at first, but now it was all they could do to not be totally overrun. Even without the advantage of numbers, the Helios Knights far outclassed the decoy force. It was only a matter of time before they fell apart.
“Luke,” Ellis said, “I’m going to get their attention. Keep them occupied until Olivia gets here.”
“Don’t be an idiot. Once they know you’re a fake, they’ll kill you first.” His tone was blunt, but the fear in his eyes was plain.
Eris gave an exaggerated shrug. “Hey, you know I’m no slouch with a sword. I don’t plan on going down easy. Besides,” she added, “even if I do die, Olivia won’t let her little sister go unavenged.” Before Luke could stop her, she drew her sword. “See you around.”
“H-Hold on!” Luke shouted, but she was already running full tilt toward the oncoming attackers.
Kristoff cleaved through the enemy soldiers in his way, looking for the opening that would let them break through. Then, his lip curled. He saw a silver-haired girl in ebony armor, her sword flashing as she threw herself into the fray. When she noticed his gaze, her eyes gleamed as she began to head straight toward him.
“My lord,” Maschera said warningly.
“Don’t worry about me,” Kristoff said, dropping another soldier who rushed at him with a single sweep of his sword. He shook the blood from the blade, adding, “You focus on breaking through, or their reinforcements will be after you.”
“But ser...”
“Stop worrying. If she were the real one that’d be one thing, but this girl’s only an imposter. Do you really think she’s a match for Kristoff Raptor?”
“Of course not, my lord, I only...” Maschera trailed off, then said, “Very well. Until later, then.” He ran off, right past the woman in the black armor, but she didn’t so much as spare him a passing glance. A moment later, she drew within reach of his blade, and the clang of metal on metal rang out. They exchanged a few blows, then bounced away from one another again.
Kristoff made a noise of approval. “You’re not bad—for an imposter,” he said.
“Oh no, you worked it out?” The young woman ran a hand through her hair, looking dejected, but that quickly changed as a fierce smile spread across her face.
“You really had us by the nose,” Kristoff went on. “Thanks to you, we’re retreating before we even achieved anything worthwhile. I figure, at the very least, I’ll take your head home as a consolation prize.” Far from being intimidated, the girl giggled mockingly. Something about her smirk struck a nerve. “Something funny?” he snapped.
She heaved a melodramatic sigh. “Okay, so you’re supposed to be a commander in the Helios Knights, aren’t you?”
“What’s your point?”
“Okay, so that was a very impressive speech, but really, you’re just mad because we made you look stupid. Now you want revenge. It’s not like killing me has any other value to you. At least if you went after my brother, that’d show a little more sense.” She scoffed, then gave him a look of pity. “So pathetic.”
Kristoff had never been so insulted in his life. No one had ever dared to even speak so to him.
“Let’s do this then,” he snarled, gripping the hilt of his sword so hard his nails dug into the leather of the hilt.
Maybe I got a bit carried away with the insults, Ellis thought as she parried another of Kristoff’s frenzied blows. If he keeps this up, I’m in trouble.
The man’s scarlet face was contorted with rage. The impact of his blows echoed through her skull as she parried him blow for blow. She was keeping up for now, but she knew she couldn’t keep this up much longer.
Right, guess it’s all or nothing from here on out. Ellis drew back, pulling a knife from her belt and hurling it at the man’s face.
“Is that all you’ve got?” With a flick of his longsword, the knife bounced away. Just as Ellis had hoped. She stepped in, meaning to rake his side with her blade, only to find herself staring into his smirking face. A moment later, she understood why he was smiling.
“Ngh...” she grunted. Not only had he deflected her blow with a dagger drawn too fast for her to notice, but his longsword was also now buried deep in her thigh.
He laughed. “Hurts, does it? Well? Does it?” With a flourish, he withdrew his blade. Hot blood poured from the wound as a wave of blinding pain sent Eris staggering. She fell backward.
“Well, then,” he said, looming over her. “I let you have more than your say, but it appears this is it for you. You have some skill with a blade, I’ll give you that, but in the end, you fight like a woman. No force behind your strikes.” He was enjoying his victory. Ellis gave him her best look of contempt in return. She was going to die on her own terms. She wouldn’t be reduced to sniveling and begging.
“Look at you, all excited over beating up a lone woman. Just kill me already and spare me the speeches. Have your friends never told you what a little girl you are?”
“Hah! Brazen to the end, aren’t you? I respect that.” He raised his sword high above his head.
I’m sorry, Olivia, Ellis thought, closing her eyes, it looks like this is the end for me...
But the blow never came. Something wasn’t right. Ellis cracked her eyes open just enough to see—and there, forcing the man’s sword back, was a girl with silver hair.
“Olivia?! My sister really came for me?!”
“Sorry I’m late,” Olivia replied with a laugh, then stopped and cocked her head. “Wait, sister?”
Ellis sat wrapped in a cloud of happiness as a man with blond hair came sprinting over to her.
“We...We made it...” he gasped. “Thank goodness. Try not to do anything else stupid.”
Ellis huffed. “Oh, it’s you, Evanson. I don’t recall giving you permission to come and ruin my happiness.”
“Ellis, please,” Evanson said, sighing. “Could you keep your...symptoms under control?”
The man fighting Olivia chuckled. “You’re the real Death God, then? Yes, I suppose it’d be absurd to compare you with that.” He made a dismissive gesture at Ellis. “You have an entirely different air about you.”
“Yeah?” Olivia replied. “Well, whatever, I guess. Evanson, look after Ellis, okay?”
“Yes, ser!” Evanson replied smartly.
The man chuckled again. “All business, aren’t you? To think I’d meet the real Death God here... Fate must have brought you to me. Hear me, Death God Olivia. On the honor of the House of Raptor, I will end you here.”
He jumped a pace back, then crossed his dagger and longsword before him. Presumably, this was his preferred fighting style. He charged at Olivia with still greater force than he had demonstrated against Ellis, prepared to unleash a whirlwind of blows—
Yes! That’s my amazing big sister! Ellis had never seen Olivia fight at such close range before. She was so entranced she even forgot the pain in her leg. She’d struggled just to keep up with Kristoff’s blade, but Olivia made it look effortless. She parried every strike one-handed. Kristoff, who hadn’t even lost his breath while fighting Ellis, was soon soaked in sweat, his shoulders heaving as he gasped for air.
Ellis thought of herself as a fairly competent fighter. Precisely because of that, she couldn’t begin to imagine how much she would have to train to get anywhere near Olivia’s level.
“Your strikes are very weak,” Olivia commented.
“My...strikes? Weak?”
“Yeah. No weight behind them at all. Are you eating properly?” She sounded concerned.
Kristoff’s face contorted even more dramatically, and it was only with concerted effort that Ellis managed to contain her laughter. It was too good, after he’d disparaged her attacks for being too weak, too feminine, to see the same line thrown back in his face. No words had ever sounded so sweet.
“Look, we need to get Ellis medical attention, so is it all right if I kill you now?”
“Is it all right?!” Kristoff bellowed back. He raised his sword once more. In response Olivia flicked the blood from her blade, then, unbelievably, returned it to its scabbard.
Then, she turned to Ellis and, while Ellis herself watched in bewilderment, crouched down calmly beside her. Evanson was gaping wordlessly, fumbling for his sword.
“Olivia!” Ellis cried.
“No need to panic,” Olivia said. “I already got him.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a tourniquet and a bandage. Behind her, as if on cue, Kristoff’s body split into two right along the centerline of his body, one half falling left and the other right. It was almost comical. Ellis and Evanson only stared, both at a total loss for words.
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