As insufficient that the dagger felt compared to the curved blade that advanced upon Albert, he felt like he still had some luck on his side. The man closing in on him had a single arm hanging useless at his side and a nasty bruise along his jaw. Beads of blood leaked off of the purplish blue welts on the skin of his jaw and dripped off his face and his eyes were glazed over. He was haunted by the illusions of Tartarus that Kuzma's chains invoked. The knight may have had enough skill to block a blow from Kuzma's chains, but he didn't come out of the encounter in good shape.
That being said, Al didn't have any combat experience to call upon. His dad had taken him to a martial arts dojo once, when he was younger, but his mother didn't want him to do anything dangerous so she made him stop.
"Bet she would regret that if she saw me now," Albert thought, oddly calm now that combat was upon him.
He barely dodged a thrust from the man and dove under a particularly wide swing of the knight's sword and tackled the man in the chest, knife-first. Albert lay there, dazed by the hard fall, a moment before jolting back upright, pulling himself away from the knight and cursing himself for being distracted. He didn't know anything about battles, but he knew that a moment of distraction meant death from his previous experiences.
The absence of weight from his hand caused him to notice that he had lost the knife he had been lent and his body was covered a thick layer of warm blood. Below him, the hilt of his knife stuck out of the chest of the man, who lay on the ground, unmoving. The soldier's eyes were glassy and stared up into the sky, unseeing.
Resisting the urge to retch, Al pulled the knife from the soldier's flesh and dashed towards the direction that Calandra had been carried before, trying to force the face of the man he had killed from his mind. More soldiers, this time in full health, stepped before him, weapons drawn. Albert skidded to a halt, desperate to find a path around them.
The five mystics who had stayed behind, ignoring the fight now rose into the air and flew forward, safe from Kuzma's chains now that he was distracted by the rest of the knights. They however above the battlefield, chanting something and the pure white pillar rose out of the ground and floated, suspended, between them. Damen, the Hundred Hander shouted in triumph as he saw that they had won their prize and laughed at Kuzma as he sent a chain flying into the air in a futile attempt to stop the flying magi. The magi finished their chant and they all disappeared in a flash of light alongside the pillar.
All except for one, that is. One of the mystics had seen Al dodge under a swipe from one of the knights blocking his path and dash between the remainder in the opening that that had created. With a derisive snort, the mystic landed by the Knight guarding Calandra and fired a burst of mana at Al, who was sent flying backwards in a shower of dirt and fire.
Al's entire body ached. Even his aches had aches. The only sound he could hear was a constant loud ringing sound. He pushed himself off the ground and looked at the current situation. Kuzma was barely holding off the knights and The Hundred Handed, but it didn't look sustainable. On the bright side, the path to the soldier carrying Calandra was more-or-less clear, with only the single mystic and knight blocking his path.
He shook his head, which did nothing to rid it of the ringing, and limped forwards, gripping his dagger and reaching in himself again for the Numen needed to let off a flood. It was strange, but with his head ringing like it was, it was somehow easier to reach inside himself and channel the energy through his body and into his dagger. Power rushed through Albert's veins, numbing his pain and filling him with a feeling of power.
The mystic guarding Calandra noticed the sudden influx of energy and turned to face Albert, smirking when he saw the young teenager, bloody and wounded, heading toward him with a small dagger outstretched.
It didn't matter to Al. This puny mystic wouldn't stop him. Unfettered power flowed through him. He head was light and the world was at his beck and call. With flash, a spear of water lanced out of his dagger, plowing into the mystic's shoulder and sent him spinning backwards, leaving him groaning on the ground several yards away.
The knight holding Calandra hadn't noticed the silent battle occurring up until this point, but she definitely had now. Brusquely, she placed Calandra onto the floor and drew her swords, one per hand. Not wanting to give the soldier time to get close, Al blasted the knight with three more spears of water. To Albert's shock, she dispersed each blast with a casual swipe of her swords and dashed towards him, weapons crossed in front of her.
As the knight closed in on him, her eyes calm, collected, and focused, Albert numbly wondered why he didn't feel fear. The swords in the women's hands glinted with mana and she swiped upward with the sword in her right hand.
"You are not yet ready to fight an enemy of this level, Albert, leave her to me, "Myrin said, "Remember this feeling, it will serve you well in the future."
The feeling of limitless power that suddenly filled Albert's body and soul made his feeling of invincibility from before seem laughable. His Numen was a mere drop or rain compared to the veritable ocean that Myrin held.
The woman's sword seemed to be moving in slow motion, and with Myrin taking control of Albert's body, Al could watch his own hand divert the blow of the knight's sword with his dagger as easily as a cat would bat at yarn.
Al watched the Knight's eyes widen in surprise as Myrin stopped her second blow by grabbing her wrist with his free hand and plunge the little blade deep into the woman's jugular. In one swift moment, Myrin then ripped the knife from her throat and the woman collapsed to the ground beside him, her forward momentum carrying her a couple of feet forward. The woman grasped weakly at the blood bubbling out of the open wound of her neck and then fell silent, the light behind her eyes sinking into the mists of death.
"I will need to leave the rest to you Al, your body cannot handle any more than this. In fact, If it weren't for this unfortunate situation, I wouldn't have lent you my power at all. It was not yet time."
Myrin sighed, a complicated mixture of feelings rushing through Al with Myrin's words.
"It's too late for that now, however. From this point on, your body will be facing painful changes, it's up to you to survive now."
Myrin relinquished control of him and Al felt like Atlas, carrying the world upon his shoulders. However he did not fall, Calandra was ahead and he knew he would be a lot worse than injured and tired if he didn't leave now.
Reaching Calandra, he knelt down, preparing to lift an unconscious girl over his shoulders but he was shocked to see her awake. Tears flowed from furious eyes and blood dripped from her wrists and ankles from where she had struggled to break from her bindings. Albert slid the blade of his knife underneath the rope binding her and sliced it off of her. Calandra nodded at Al in thanks as he finished and she ripped the hanker-chief that they had gagged her with out of her mouth.
"I will murder them. They will not take master from me!" Calandra snarled, staring down at the soldiers with a look of pure vitriol.
She looked around for a weapon and noticed the twin blades from before. She grabbed a sword from the knight that Myrin had killed and turned to Al.
"You go, thank you for- I'm sorry for suspecting you," Calandra said, stuttering a little. She took the silver necklace that Al had seen around her neck when he first met her off and handing it to him after a moment's hesitation.
"Go to Olympus, they will take care of you there. I will stay and help master."
The simple apology touched Al with how heartfelt it was and any bad-blood he still held for the girl evaporated like that. Al shook his head.
"No, Kuzma said to take you with me."
"I will not go without him," Calandra said simply, turning from Albert and summoning the same purple fire she had summoned when she attacked him.
"Then I will stay too, I don't know how to leave and get to Olympus anyway."
Calandra looked over Albert's wounds and smiled gratefully, shaking her head. Al's heart jumped in his chest. The corpse strewn battlefield now seemed as a flowery meadow. Why had she not smiled before then?
"With those wounds? I appreciate it but you'd only get in our way. My pendant will lead the way to Olympus. Later, Spy!"
With that, Calandra dashed back down where Damen, the Hundred Hander had just knocked away one of Kuzma's chains and a knights blade managed to leave a deep gash across his shoulder. Calandra screamed in anger and dove into the fray, sword slicing up the side of a knight and through the gaps in their armor. She plunged the point of it deep into the soft flesh of their underarm, killing him and scorched another knight with her purple fire. The Knight screamed, dropped his weapon and flailed on the ground, bashing himself with his hands in a futile attempt to put out the otherworldly flame. The man's screams continued for around 10 seconds before they died out with him.
"She's right Al, you must go while you still can. You cannot help them now," Myrin said from what sounded like a long way away.
Tears bunched in Al's eyes, this sudden compassion for the two Greek Mystics that he just met surprising even him.
"Don't die!" Al shouted down at the two, who were now back to back in the center of the skirmish, keeping the knights at bay.
Remorse draped over Al like a cloak as he limped away, hopefully, towards the exit of the valley. As he crested the hills surrounding the ruins below, he heard Calandra's voice call back through the noise.
"An oi theoí to kánoun!"
'If the Gods will it.'
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