(Chapter 117 War Without Reason)
At midnight, in the stillness of his private tent, Tempest sat slouched in his chair, the ambient warmth of Robin's songs drifting from the record player beside him. His eyes were half-closed, his head resting on his hand, the soft melody a contrast to the turbulent thoughts running through his mind. The expedition had been fruitless, a trial met with nothing but closed doors and frustration, leaving him to brood in the shadows.
Outside, the sounds of his soldiers packing up and loading equipment onto the ships filled the camp. The steady clank of metal and the muted chatter of voices carried the finality of their retreat. They were preparing to leave Natlan, the prospect of victory replaced by the resignation of wasted efforts. Yet, for Tempest, the disappointment was sharper, lingering like a storm on the horizon.
"Well, at least I get to see her again."
Tempest muttered softly, a faint smile breaking through his otherwise weary expression.
Just then, the tent's entrance parted, and Tirpitz entered, holding the dark, ominous-looking box. Unbeknownst to him, the contents he had hidden inside were long gone.
"Excuse me, Your Grace."
Tirpitz said with a respectful bow, presenting the box.
"Ah, good, you brought it. Thank you, Tirpitz. You're dismissed."
Tempest replied, nodding appreciatively. Tirpitz returned the gesture with another slight bow before slipping quietly out of the tent, leaving Tempest alone once more.
He studied the box, unaware of its emptiness, and felt a lingering sense of unease, yet his mind quickly drifted to thoughts of returning home.
"What…?"
Tempest murmured, his brows knitting as he opened the black box, only to find it empty. The black heart the Abyss Lector had gifted him was gone, leaving only an unsettling void inside.
Before he could process the situation further, Nahida burst into the tent, her eyes wide with concern and panic, clearly rattled.
"Tempest!"
She exclaimed, her voice urgent as she searched his face for any sign he might already know.
He snapped the box shut instinctively, his gaze sharpening.
"What is it?"
He asked, his tone steady but with a newfound tension. The air between them grew thick, and a sense of something ominous lingered around them, as though this night had just taken an unforeseen turn.
"You need to come outside, now!"
Nahida urged, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Tempest raised a brow, exhaling a sigh.
"Can't this wait until tomorrow? I have-"
"Now, Tempest!"
She insisted, her voice sharper, filled with a determination that caught even him off guard. She took hold of his arm with both her hands, pulling him toward the tent's entrance. Despite her small frame, her urgency spoke volumes.
With a resigned sigh, Tempest finally relented.
"Fine, I'm coming."
He muttered, allowing Nahida to lead him outside. As they stepped out together, a cold gust swept over the camp, carrying a foreboding sense that something was terribly wrong.
Outside the tent, many of Tempest's soldiers stood motionless, their eyes fixed on the sky, which had shifted into an ominous shade of purple, just as it had the day the Abyss attacked the village.
"Just another routine sight for them."
Tempest muttered, uninterested, as he turned to go back inside his tent.
'Someone stole the black heart, huh? Well, not my concern… '
He thought dismissively. Since Mavuika declined his proposal, what reason was there for him to sacrifice more of his soldiers?
"Tempest!"
Nahida's voice broke his stride, her tone carrying an edge of desperation as she stepped in front of him, blocking his path back into the tent.
"We have to help them, Tempest! This isn't like the attack in the village—something even bigger is coming! If we don't act now, Natlan will fall!" Nahida exclaimed, urgency lacing her words. Yet, Tempest's expression remained as stoic and emotionless as ever.
"All the more reason why I won't interfere."
He replied coldly.
"I'm not sending my men to die. This isn't my war, it never was."
"Tempest! If Natlan falls, the other six nations will be threatened! Do you really think the Abyss will stop here? Once they've consumed Natlan, where do you think they'll go next? We need to help them now, Tempest!"
Nahida implored, her voice rising with desperation.
"We? You seem to forget that the lives of my soldiers rest in my hands, Young Pasha."
Tempest countered, stepping closer to her, his gaze unwavering.
"You're starting to sound as if you care more about these Natlans than about my soldiers. It's not 'we,' Young Pasha; it's only me who makes the decisions here. The lives of my men depend on it. You weren't even supposed to come with me in the first place. Perhaps if you had engaged with Mavuika about my proposal instead of exchanging laughter and wisdom, I might have had a reason to consider helping them."
He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle in the air between them. The tension was palpable, and Tempest's indifference felt like a wall that Nahida struggled to breach.
"They'll survive, just as they have for the last five hundred years."
Tempest replied, his tone indifferent.
"Tempest! If you save them right now, Natlan will owe you a debt of gratitude, and you won't even need to adjust your proposal. Mavuika will accept it!"
Nahida implored, struggling to maintain her composure as she fought to convince him. The urgency in her voice was palpable, and she could only hope that her words would resonate with him.
Tempest turned to face her, a slow smirk forming on his lips.
"You're starting to sound like me now. Good, you're learning."
He remarked, a hint of teasing in his tone.
"Tirpitz."
He called out, his voice steady.
In an instant, Tirpitz deactivated her cloak, revealing herself with a graceful fluidity.
"Your Grace?"
She inquired, her demeanor professional and attentive.
"Tell Rohan to assemble every soldier capable of riding a horse and bring Constantine to me."
Tempest instructed, his expression shifting from indifference to determination. There was a newfound fire in his eyes as he considered the gravity of the situation. The prospect of helping Natlan, while initially unappealing, now seemed like a strategic opportunity to strengthen his position.
"I hope you're happy now, Young Pasha."
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In just thirty minutes, Rohan had successfully assembled an impressive force of approximately 6,600 heavy cavalry. The regiment was divided into six groups, each containing around a thousand riders, tasked with heading to each of the six tribes across Natlan to provide much-needed support. The remaining six hundred cavalry would ride directly to the Stadium of the Sacred Flame, with Tempest himself taking the lead in this critical mission.
As he climbed onto his horse, his gaze scanned the assembled troops, a mix of determination and resolve etched across their faces.
"You will stay."
He said firmly, casting a sideways glance at Nahida.
"But-"
She began, her voice laced with concern.
Tempest interjected sharply.
"No buts."
His tone left little room for negotiation.
Turning his focus back to the task at hand, he addressed Falric, one of his trusted commanders. "Falric, ensure that the infantry, Mekas, and Siege Engines are mobilized on time. We need all the support we can muster for this operation."
"Aye aye, Your Grace."
Falric replied with a nod, immediately setting off to relay the orders.
Nahida watched as Tempest's resolve solidified, his leadership igniting a fire within the hearts of his soldiers. She could see that he was not only a commander but a beacon of hope in the face of impending doom. Yet, her worry lingered, would this decision lead them into the chaos of battle unprepared?
As the cavalry prepared to move, Tempest turned to her one last time, a glimmer of something softer in his gaze.
"Stay safe, Kusali."
With that, he kicked his horse into motion, leading the charge into the unknown, a storm brewing on the horizon.
"Ride! Knights of Fontaine! Show these inhuman beasts no mercy!"
Tempest shouted, raising his sword high above his head.
A deafening cheer erupted from his soldiers, their voices rising in a powerful war cry that echoed across the battlefield. The sound was a symphony of courage, resilience, and unyielding determination. As they marched forward, the six groups quickly split off, each riding towards their assigned locations, while Tempest and his contingent charged straight ahead, a wall of steel and fury.
Above them, Hatsume's plane soared gracefully through the air, its propellers whirring energetically as it prepared for the aerial support that would be crucial in the upcoming confrontation.
The wind whipped against Tempest's face as they galloped, his heart pounding in rhythm with the thunderous hooves of his cavalry. The landscape blurred around him, but his focus remained sharp, laser-like, and unwavering. He could feel the weight of his responsibility heavy on his shoulders, the lives of his soldiers and the fate of Natlan rested on their success today.
"Augh, I shouldn't have drunk so much if I knew this would happen..."
Constantine grumbled, riding beside Tempest. His usual bravado was nowhere to be found; instead, he looked weary and slightly disheveled, as if he had stumbled out of bed just moments ago. The excitement of battle that usually ignited a fire in his eyes was absent, replaced by a palpable sense of reluctance.
Above the clouds, Columbina lay on her stomach, her hair cascading around her like a halo. With a serene smile gracing her lips, she peered down at the unfolding chaos below. The battlefield was alive with movement and tension, a vibrant tapestry of valor and desperation that she had orchestrated.
"Hm, I think Tempest will be quite grateful for the opportunity I've given him."
She mused, her voice lilting with playful satisfaction. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she surveyed the scene, reveling in the anticipation of what was to come.
The sight of knights charging valiantly, the clash of swords, and the roaring battle cry all thrilled her.
"Hah, when presented with the chance to ignite such spectacular chaos, I simply cannot resist."
She chuckled softly to herself, her laughter mingling with the gentle breeze.
Every twist and turn in the battle was like a note in a grand symphony, each moment a delicate brushstroke on a canvas painted with destiny. Columbina relished her role as the puppeteer, pulling the strings of fate with effortless grace.
"Ah, the beauty of chaos~ How it dances and spirals, drawing in those who seek glory and those who flee in fear."
She continued, her voice a mere whisper lost to the wind.
As the conflict raged on beneath her, Columbina felt a rush of exhilaration. She was the architect of this moment, the catalyst for change, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride.
"Let the show begin,"
She murmured, anticipation buzzing through her veins.
"The stage is set, and soon, everyone will play their part in this grand performance... One day, we will play again, Tempest~"
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"Your Grace! Approaching target!"
Rohan shouted, urgency lacing his voice as they drew near the Stadium of the Sacred Flame. The chaos below was palpable; Natlan warriors were struggling fiercely against the unexpected Abyss attack, their defenses crumbling under the weight of this onslaught. It was clear they were woefully unprepared for the storm that had befallen them.
"Volley!"
Tempest commanded, his voice cutting through the din of battle. As massive Mitachurls wielding gigantic axes charged toward his knights, Tempest's forces sprang into action. With precision and synchronization, the cavalry quickly withdrew their flintlocks, and a thunderous volley erupted. The sharp cracks of gunfire echoed through the air, and one by one, the charging Mitachurls fell, their formidable frames collapsing onto the ground.
The cavalry did not relent; they surged forward like a relentless tide, slashing through the ranks of the enemy, firing their weapons, and trampling any foes who dared to stand in their way. It was a calculated slaughter, a display of military might that showcased the training and discipline of Tempest's knights. The battlefield became a swirling tempest of steel and chaos, and soon after, a colossal Lawachurl emerged, intent on breaking their formation with brute force.
But before it could make its devastating impact, the Lawachurl suddenly staggered, as if struck by an invisible force. Wounds appeared all over its body, tearing through its thick skin, a testament to the precision of the Ghosts hidden in the shadows. They were executing their deadly tasks, picking off the heavy targets with lethal efficiency.
"Advance!"
Tempest shouted, his voice booming with authority. He spurred his horse forward, leading the charge as the knights rallied behind him.
After breaking through the Abyss forces outside, Tempest's cavalry pushed forward, entering the city's heart. Inside, they were met with a sight straight from a nightmare: Abyss portals littered the streets, spilling out hordes of Hilichurls, ferocious Riftwolves, and corrupted Saurians. Each twisted creature seemed hungrier than the last, their eyes gleaming with a malevolent hunger as they swarmed the city.
Tempest's gaze rose to the stadium, where the Sacred Flame once burned brightly for all Natlans to see. Now, however, only dark plumes of smoke lingered, obscuring the sky in sinister hues. But his focus shifted as he spotted a familiar figure amidst the chaos, Mavuika, locked in combat at the forefront of her warriors. She was a sight to behold, wielding her weapon with unmatched precision and strength. Alone, she seemed to hold back waves of enemies, her presence like a blazing wall, her movements fluid and relentless as though she were a one-woman army.
"Support the Natlans! Protect the civilians! Stand as one!"
Tempest bellowed, raising his sword high. His knights responded instantly, charging forward to join Mavuika and her warriors. They formed a formidable front, defending the city with renewed determination. Swords clashed, gunfire rang out, and Tempest's soldiers expertly guided civilians away from the fray, creating safe passage amidst the bedlam.
"I hope I'm not too late," Tempest said, striding to Mavuika's side. Her expression shifted from shock to relief as she took in the sight of Tempest and his soldiers, rallying against the onslaught of Abyss creatures.
"Tempest, I need a favor."
Mavuika called over the roar of battle.
Tempest glanced at her, sword in hand.
"I'm listening."
Mavuika nodded toward the Sacred Flame's stand, now shrouded in darkness at the top of the stadium.
"I need to get up there. They won't stop pouring out unless I reignite the Sacred Flame. Can you help me reach it, and hold them off while I reignite the flame?"
Tempest gave a determined nod.
"I can."
"Thank you."
Mavuika said, extending her fist in a familiar gesture.
"I know we have our differences, Tempest, but the situation calls us to fight side by side."
This time, without hesitation, Tempest met her fist with his own, a spark of mutual respect passing between them.
"Right."
In a flash, Tempest began to glow, power surging around him as he ascended into his Paladin form. His armor shimmered with golden radiance, casting a warming, protective light. Mavuika's own transformation took hold, her hair gleaming like molten gold as fierce energy pulsed around her, both of them emanating a power that even the Abyss creatures seemed to hesitate against.
"Let our flames burn brighter than tomorrow."