The battlefield was a cacophony of clashing steel and screams as the village guard fought their respective foes with
"Peter!" Claude shouted, his voice slicing through the clamour of the battlefield as he approached.
"Emissary?! What are you doing here? You should be staying in the rear!" Peter exclaimed as he saw the young boy amidst the frantic melee.
"I have an idea to win this fight," Claude replied, his eyes sharp with determination. "But I need some help."
Uncertainty flashed across Peter's face upon hearing this.
Could he afford to divert his efforts to help Claude?
If this plan fails, not only might both of them die, but it may also negatively affect the battle. Furthermore...
Could he afford to risk the Emissary's life on a plan that might not work?
But then again, could they afford not to take this chance?
The village guards were at the end of the day, mortal.
They would eventually tire, and in such a scenario Peter knew all too well what that would result in.
His knuckles turned white as he clenched his fist around the shaft of his spear, trying to come to a decision.
'We've already lost Fritz... There's no point in hesitating any longer!' He resolved, the memory of his comrade's gruesome death spurring him on.
Taking a deep breath, he nodded firmly. "I'll do my best to help you, Emissary."
"Good! Follow me."
The duo wove their way through the chaos to a nearby skirmish.
Four villagers were locked in a desperate struggle against a towering adversary, their breaths coming in ragged gasps as they took turns engaging the steel giant while the others distracted it.
"I need you to distract the big guy so I can approach," Claude instructed, as Peter looked at him, bewildered.
"Emissary, are you sure? You have no weapons to protect you that close-up," Peter cautioned, but the resolve in Claude's eyes silenced his worries.
Gritting his teeth, Peter spoke, "It might not be my place to say this, but thank you for this." He then charged forward with his spear, launching a flurry of strikes at their foe.
The others took a sigh of relief seeing Peter, the most skilled combatant in their village come to their aid as it meant two things...
Peter had already taken care of his battle.
And, they might be able to take care of their own battle now.
With a cheer, the now-invigorated men joined Peter in his siege of their foe.
Nearby, Claude's heart pounded in his chest as he edged ever closer to the fight, his senses honed and alert.
With Peter drawing all the enemy's attention, Claude was able to slip by unnoticed.
Once he was near enough, he focused his mental energy, not on the vapours in the air this time, but on the mechanical frame of the enemy.
A deep crease marred his forehead as he concentrated on the pistons and pipes of the giant steel body.
'There!' His eyes lit up as he detected an all-too-familiar substance within them—water vapour.
More specifically, steam. These mechanical entities seemed to be using steam as the source of their power.
Focusing, he used his mental energy to tether the steam inside the enemy, and with all his might he pulled it out of the giant.
Clank!
The steel titan abruptly came to a standstill, its once menacing movements silenced.
Thud!
A moment of eerie quietude fell over the battlefield, only to be shattered by the thunderous sound of the giant's collapse.
Its formidable form now lay motionless on the ground, the once fearsome adversary reduced to a mere inert mass of metal.
Seeing this, not only were the men fighting shocked, but others nearby felt awed by this scene.
Their morale which was dipping mere moments ago soon reignited; and a blazing sense of determination and revenge for their fallen comrades burned within them.
Near Claude, Peter was similarly shocked by how the fearsome being he had just been fighting had now fallen.
"It's dead?" Peter approached cautiously, stabbing its head with his rotating spearhead to confirm.
When the foe remained motionless as his spearhead pierced its skull, a wave of joy washed over him.
"Emissary! We did—" His celebration was cut short as he saw Claude wobble slightly.
Peter rushed forward, supporting the unsteady boy. "Emissary! What's wrong?"
"It's nothing... Just slightly exhausted," Claude replied, clutching his head. He calculated quickly, realising he had cast seven spells already.
'But considering that wasn't a full spell... I should be able to do it one more time,' He thought, recognising the dire necessity of his magic.
'I can't just hide away... If we lose this fight, it's not like I'm going to be safe and sound...'
"Peter! Bring me to another fight... I can do this one more time. The rest of you... just follow me and Peter."
Without hesitation, Peter hoisted the exhausted Claude onto his back and rushed toward another battle.
The others who were left behind fell into a slight struggle as they watched the departing figure of Peter and Claude.
Should they follow or help their struggling comrades?
Nevertheless, glancing at the unmoving hunk of metal lying near them, they soon came to a decision and ran after the pair.
Why hesitate any longer? The boy had already felled their foe, the least they could was trust him.
Peter and Claude soon arrived at another confrontation.
Just like before, the villagers were besieging the steel titan in turns, making sure not to get caught out of position and cleaved.
The others who had now joined them also saw this and looked hesitantly at Claude who was still being carried by Peter.
"Go join them." Said Claude and with those words they all charged forward with their spears raised.
With Peter's assistance, once again, Claude neared the distracted foe and used his mental energy to draw out the steam from within the behemoth.
Thud!
Another foe collapsed, rendered harmless by Claude's power.
'That's two I've taken down... Including the one Peter took down earlier, we should at least have an overwhelming advantage now...'
But before Claude could see the outcome of the battle, his vision faded to black.
Peter who had already felt the lack of movement from Claude panicked and immediately rushed away from the battlefield.
Placing Claude at the edge of the Cathedral, he took the boy's pulse.
"Still alive..." A sigh escaped Peter as he realised Claude was merely exhausted.
Looking around he found the two groups he had liberated with Claude had gone and joined the others, managing to fell another foe.
'There are only eight of them left...' Peter thought to himself relievedly.
Quickly surveying the area around them and finding now danger, he was relieved and picked up his spear.
Taking one last glance at the sleeping Claude, Peter rushed into battle, determined to end the bloodshed as soon as possible.