"Olivia... that's a lovely name."
The voice was a growl, feral and mocking, as the red-armored Kantadar knight's twisted grin spread across his blood-streaked face. Baron Casoles, Baron of Redingburg, towered over his adversary, his halberd and axe raised menacingly in the air. He advanced with heavy, thunderous steps that seemed to shake the very ground beneath him, each metal-clad footfall leaving deep cracks in the earth.
"Remember this moment," he spat, eyes gleaming with malice. "For it is I, Baron Casoles, who will be the last thing you see."
The clanging of his armor reverberated like war drums, matching the frenzied beat of his warpath. His gaze, locked on Olivia, was as hot as the blood coursing through his veins. Her emerald eyes, sharp and focused, tracked every move of the incoming menace.
Gods, grant me victory... Olivia silently prayed, her knuckles whitening as she gripped her sword. With a calm that belied the chaos around her, she bent her knees, her lithe frame poised to strike. Then, in a blur of motion, she became little more than a streak of light; a streak that shot forward to meet the roaring storm of scarlet steel.
The clash was immediate. Gold met crimson with a violent, ringing screech that echoed like the fury of a storm. Sparks burst forth as Olivia's sword collided with Baron's axe, the force sending tremors up her arms. Her eyes flickered toward the razor-sharp axe blade that hung perilously close, too close for comfort. Realizing she couldn't maintain this clash for long, she abandoned the attempt to close the distance further.
She spun to the side with lightning speed, her left foot pivoting sharply just as the massive halberd came crashing down in a mighty swing that scattered dust into the air.
Boom!
A cloud of debris rose from the ground where the strike landed, but Olivia was already gone, her figure just a blur against the backdrop of destruction.
Baron threw back his head and let out a bellowing laugh, the thrill of battle igniting his blood. "You won't escape me, girl!" he taunted, as he swung the halberd tip toward her like a spear. The weapon cut through the air with deadly precision.
Olivia's response was swift; she ducked right, narrowly evading the lethal strike, and brought her sword up in both hands to parry the next blow. But Baron was no mere brute; he was a seasoned warrior. Sensing her move, his body shifted, veins bulging in his arms as he twisted the axe in a sweeping motion, turning the thrust into a brutal horizontal slash.
Whoosh!
The wind screamed past Olivia's ear as the axe blade sliced through the space where her head had been just a moment before. A few golden strands of her hair, severed mid-air, drifted down to the ground. She had bent low, dodging the attack with grace, but there was no time to rest; Baron was relentless.
Without missing a beat, he swung his left leg with all the force of a battering ram, his greave hurtling toward her like a war hammer.
Bang!
Olivia raised her sword just in time, bracing herself against the incoming blow. The impact was monstrous. Her blade bent inward under the strain, and the force of Baron's kick sent a shockwave through her body. Her arms buckled slightly, the sword guard rattling against her palms. Her body trembled as she gasped in pain, the breath momentarily knocked from her lungs.
"Urgh…" Olivia gritted her teeth, her face a mask of determination as she tried to regain her footing. But the power behind Baron's attack was overwhelming. Before she could fully react, her body was hurled backward, blood spraying from her lips as she was launched into the air like a ragdoll.
"Die for me!" Baron roared, his voice thunderous, eyes ablaze with fury. Grabbing his halberd with both hands, he rushed toward where Olivia would land, his entire being focused on delivering the final blow. The axe blade swung like a whirlwind, a force that had left many a warrior crushed and dismembered.
Olivia's body twirled in the air, her long skirt billowing around her like wings. But even in the midst of being thrown, her mind was sharp, calculating. With a sudden twist of her waist, she spun gracefully, like a cat falling through the air. Her body contorted mid-flight, preparing for a landing that would hopefully turn the tide of this deadly encounter.
The spinning white skirt fluttered in the air like a blooming lily, delicate yet defiant. Olivia's body, light as a feather, did not fall as Baron had anticipated. Instead, she moved with a grace that defied gravity, twisting mid-air as the sharp blade of the halberd sliced through the space she had just vacated.
The edge of the halberd grazed her shoulder, tearing off a large piece of her cuff. A vivid streak of blood stained her snow-white skin; a shocking contrast, like crimson paint splattered on porcelain.
Baron's eyes widened in disbelief. His sure-fire horizontal strike, meant to end the fight in one sweeping motion, had missed.
"What?!"
Olivia, like a drifting maple leaf caught in the wind, spun gracefully, using the momentum of the attack to her advantage. Her body completed a half-turn as she maneuvered herself directly in front of him. The long sword, gripped tightly in her hands, was already raised. From waist to sky, the blade gleamed silver in the sunlight as it arced toward her enemy's neck, intent on delivering a decisive blow.
Damn it! Baron cursed internally, knowing it was too late to recover his halberd. It had cut too wide, leaving him vulnerable. In a desperate move, he released the handle with his right hand and twisted his upper body to avoid the death strike aimed at his head.
Snap!
Blood splattered as Olivia's sword sliced into Baron's forearm and shoulder, the sound of metal against muscle echoing in the air. His red-stained flesh, thick and tough like leather armor, absorbed the blow. Olivia felt the resistance, her sword halting as it struck bone, unable to cut any further despite the force of gravity, inertia, and her own strength behind it. The enemy's sinewy muscles clung tightly to the blade, refusing to yield.
Olivia gritted her teeth, her feet finally touching the ground. The pain from her wounded shoulder flared, but she pressed on, pushing the sword downward in an attempt to deepen the wound. Every ounce of her strength was focused on this moment.
"Hah!" Baron roared, his fury manifesting as raw power. He yanked his left arm back, and with a savage motion, swung the blade on the back of his halberd toward Olivia. The air itself seemed to tremble under the force of the blow.
Olivia had no choice. She tore her sword free and leapt back just in time to avoid the deadly arc of the halberd's blade. Dust kicked up around her as she landed, her chest heaving with exertion.
Baron stumbled back a few paces as well, clutching his halberd tightly once more, his breath ragged. Blood trickled from the deep gash in his arm, but his focus remained unbroken.
"My lord! Are you all right?" came a voice from behind him. Luke, his servant, along with several others, rushed toward him, concern etched on their faces. They glanced nervously at the wound, the blood dripping from Baron's arm and shoulder, unsure if their baron would even survive such a savage injury.
"Forgive me for interrupting, my lord," one of the servants said cautiously, his eyes flicking toward Olivia. "But this girl is no knight. Killing her in such a manner would bring you no honor."
Baron's eyelids twitched in irritation. His blood, hot with anger, coursed through his veins. He could feel the frustration building; a palpable rage with nowhere to go. She was just a girl, and yet she had outmaneuvered him, toyed with him, even wounded him. It should have been so simple. One strike, and she should have crumbled beneath his might.
But here she stood, defiant, unbroken, her martial skills far exceeding what her fragile appearance suggested.
His men's words cut through the fog of his fury. He raised a hand, gently brushing his fingers against the gem embedded in his chest, an artifact that pulsed with an eerie energy. The gesture helped calm him, if only slightly.
Yes, he reminded himself. This isn't a true duel. There's no need to let pride dictate the outcome. End it quickly.
The corner of Baron's mouth curled into a sneer. The farce would end soon enough, but not before he crushed that defiant spirit once and for all.
"Let's finish this. All of us, together; kill her quickly," Luke barked, his voice carrying over the battlefield like a thunderclap. With a nod of approval from Lord Baron, Luke wasted no time. He brandished his sword high, calling out to the soldiers at his side.
"Raise your spears!" he commanded.
The attendants, trained and disciplined, obeyed instantly. They formed a line, spears at the ready, their tips gleaming in the harsh light. With a unified, guttural roar, they surged forward like a pack of wolves, rushing toward the lone girl who stood defiant before them.
Clang!
Suddenly, a blur of motion. Baron's massive halberd swung through the air with unnatural speed and precision, its weight betraying the ease with which he wielded it. The deadly arc caught Leon, Olivia's companion, off guard. His sword was ripped from his grip, spinning wildly like a silver fan before it disappeared into the sky.
Leon staggered back, his heart pounding. He barely managed to dodge the follow-up strikes from the knight's heavy weapon, each one powerful enough to shatter stone. But despite his efforts, he was no match for the towering warrior before him, a knight forged in the furnace of countless battles.
Then came the strike he couldn't avoid.
The halberd crashed into Leon's breastplate with a force that felt like being hit by a cannonball. His body was launched backward, slamming into the stone wall behind him. The impact sent a shockwave through his bones, and he collapsed into the dust and debris, gasping for air. For a moment, everything was a blur. His vision swam, and darkness threatened to pull him under.
Through the haze, Leon could feel the jagged edges of the hole in his breastplate. If it hadn't been for the reinforced inner lining, he would have been impaled. Still, the pain was excruciating. He clambered to his feet, hands trembling as he used the wall for support. His breath came in ragged gasps, and he winced as he touched the dented metal of his armor.
His eyes traveled upward, locking onto the imposing figure of the Kantadar knight who had struck him down so effortlessly. The knight stood tall, like an iron tower, his presence radiating calm confidence. The man was a walking fortress, unmoved by the carnage around him.
Olivia defeated this?
The realization struck Leon like a cold wind. He had always admired Olivia's skill, but seeing this knight's sheer power, he began to comprehend just how incredible her strength truly was. For the first time, he truly understood the gap between himself and her. In this world, where warriors seemed to possess abilities far beyond what he had thought possible, Olivia had managed to stand against opponents who would crush ordinary men with ease.
How were people like her made? Could martial training alone turn someone into a living weapon, a force of nature? There was no magic, no visible aura of power; just raw skill. And then, Leon's thoughts drifted to the ghost knight they had encountered before, the one who had nearly strangled the half-demon Liam to death.
Leon had assumed that a knight brought back from the dead, transformed into an undead warrior, would be far more formidable than the living version of himself. But now he wondered, perhaps that undead knight wasn't as powerful as he had been in life. If warriors like this existed, maybe the dead could never surpass the living.
The tall knight, the one who had so easily dispatched Leon, now turned his gaze toward the fierce battle unfolding on the other side. Lord Baron and his men were engaged in a chaotic melee against Olivia, and yet, despite being outnumbered, she held her ground, her movements swift and precise. The Kantadar knight couldn't help but admire her skill, even as he anticipated her inevitable defeat.
Victory seemed assured in his mind. He turned back toward Leon, his eyes cold behind the thick iron mask that obscured his face. His opponent was no more than a nuisance to him, a man of mediocre talent masquerading as a mercenary cavalryman. It was clear to the knight that Leon stood no chance against someone of his caliber.
Still, he regarded Leon with the same disdain one might have for a bothersome insect.
In the Feru tongue, the knight muttered, "Compared to that girl, you're pitifully weak." He shook his head, almost as if disappointed by how little challenge Leon posed.
To him, this wasn't even a battle; it was merely the formality of dealing with an obstacle unworthy of his full attention. Olivia was the real prize, and once she fell, this farce of a fight would finally be over.
Leon let out an angry laugh, the kind of laugh that came from a mixture of frustration and defiance. He tugged off his stifling mask, taking in a deep breath of fresh air. "Hah! Sure, I can't compare to that 'little lion,' but when you were my age, you probably weren't any better than me."
His words dripped with sarcasm as he faced the towering knight before him. Leon could feel the contempt in the knight's eyes, the dismissal of his skills and efforts. And that only fueled his frustration. After all, he wasn't some helpless child. His weapons were second-rate, his armor hardly adequate, and yet, here he stood, barely more than a teenager, holding his own against a seasoned warrior. In his heart, Leon knew: it wasn't just this lifetime he drew strength from. It was the memories, the experiences, of a life lived before.
Sure, he was being tossed around, but really, was beating up a kid something to brag about?
Leon smirked. "How does it feel? Proud of yourself for knocking around a sixteen-year-old boy?"
He wasn't about to flatter the Kantadar knight, and his words were laced with a bitterness that ran deep. He might not have stood a chance in a direct clash, but that didn't mean he was going to let the knight walk away without hearing the sting of his own defiance. Even if Leon had the physique of his past life, and even if he were clad in the finest heavy armor, he knew he wouldn't last more than a few exchanges with this opponent. The difference in skill, strength, and experience was too vast. No amount of anger or pride could fill that gap.
The knight paused for a moment, eyes narrowing as he saw the young face beneath Leon's mask. "Hmph," he grunted, clearly unimpressed.
"Let me correct you," the knight said in a calm, almost casual tone. "At your age, your swordsmanship is barely entry-level." He nodded as if confirming a fact that hardly mattered and began advancing again, his steps slow and deliberate, his halberd held high.
"Then feel honored, boy. There is no shame in dying at the hands of a knight."
Leon's heart pounded in his chest as the knight closed the distance. The massive figure in the iron armor, towering like a war machine, was only moments away from delivering the final blow. But Leon didn't flinch. He had never planned to win this battle in a straight fight. He had a different strategy altogether.
Breathe. Focus.
Leon bent his back slightly, raising his hands in front of him as though ready for a desperate, final stand. He made a show of preparing for a last-ditch effort, one the knight would no doubt expect. But beneath the façade, something else was happening.
He subtly curled his ring finger and middle finger while raising his index and middle fingers, creating a hidden signal.
Your lord isn't the only one with a few tricks up his sleeve, Leon thought with a smirk. I've got some of my own.
"Miss Lola," he whispered in his mind, calling out to the one person who could save him now. Help me.
And then, he felt it. The familiar sensation; the flow of energy coursing through his body. It started slow, almost like a gentle current, and then it began to build, gathering momentum as it traveled toward his fingertips.
Just one shot.
Miss Lola had warned him. The last time he used this power, the unexpected had happened; he had passed out, unconscious from the sheer force of it. And now, with no way to fix that issue, he was left with only one chance. One opportunity. If he missed, that was it. There would be no second Arrow of Isha.
Leon's heart pounded, his pulse racing like a drumbeat in his ears. He couldn't afford a miss. He had to make sure the shot landed where it needed to; straight through the gap in the knight's visor. The only place where the heavy armor wouldn't protect him.
The knight advanced, oblivious to the danger, his halberd ready to strike. Leon felt the tension coil in his muscles, his body poised, waiting for the right moment. The knight was too close to dodge now. Closer, closer…
Now!
"Die!" the knight roared, his voice booming, his heavy weapon already swinging down.
But before Leon could release his arrow, another sound cut through the chaos, the thunderous rumbling of hooves. It wasn't just any rider; it was a cavalry, charging straight into the fray. The ground trembled beneath the weight of galloping horses as they surged forward, their presence impossible to ignore.
Everything happened in a blur, and Leon's focus wavered for just a split second.
This is it. Do or die.
The sudden noise of pounding hooves startled Leon, pulling his attention sideways. His heart raced as the ground trembled beneath him. A split second later, a cavalry charge was upon them. The knight, head encased in a heavy helmet, was slow to react. His vision, limited by the metal visor, barely caught the approaching danger. He twisted his head just in time to see the massive form of a warhorse bearing down on him, the chest plate of the beast's armor growing larger and larger in his view.
The village horn blared, a signal for the mercenaries and cavalry to assemble. The looting and chaos of their recent pillaging had only just ended, and now the scattered mercenaries were scrambling to respond. Soldiers leapt from their beds, yanked on whatever armor they could, and rushed from the farmhouses, mounting their horses in panic.
A Kantadar cavalryman kicked open a door, rousing his comrades. "Assemble! Now!" he shouted.
"What's going on? Are the Orlando soldiers chasing us?" asked a panicked mercenary, fumbling to buckle his leg armor.
"No! It's not pursuers. Word is, the Baron has been kidnapped! Get moving; if he dies, we lose our payday!" the cavalryman barked in reply, before turning to rally more men.
"Kidnapped?" the mercenary repeated, wide-eyed, before hurriedly donning the rest of his armor and sprinting outside. Just as he reached the yard, a fellow mercenary galloped past on horseback, nearly knocking him over. The startled man jumped out of the way.
"Watch it, you fool! Which team are you with? You almost ran me down!" he cursed, shaken by the close call.
But the rider paid no attention to the complaints. It was Liam, his mind solely focused on reaching his companions. He spurred his horse faster, ignoring the chaos and the curses that followed him as he tore through the alleyways.
Liam's thoughts raced as fast as his horse. Leon. Brandon. What's happening with their plan? His heart pounded with anxiety, desperate to get to them in time. He glanced up at the sky for a moment, noticing a small black shadow slipping through the clouds, but there was no time to make sense of it.
He turned his gaze back to the path ahead, guiding his horse through narrow lanes and past the farmhouses, heading south. His eyes fixed on the sight at the end of the alley; Leon, cornered by the towering Kantadar knight, no escape in sight.
Without a second thought, Liam yanked hard on the reins, urging his horse into a final sprint. The hooves thundered across the ground, the power of the charge building with every stride.
"Kantadar bastard! Die!" Liam roared, his voice filled with all the fury he had held back. He wasn't even bothering to draw his weapon. He was going to use the full weight of his horse as a battering ram.
The Kantadar knight, still reeling from the charge of the cavalry, barely had time to register the new threat. He turned his head, but it was too late, he couldn't dodge.
With a sickening thud, Liam's horse crashed into the knight at full speed, the impact lifting the heavily-armored warrior clean off his feet. The knight's body slammed into the ground with a force that rattled the very earth. His halberd flew from his grasp, clattering away across the dirt.
Before the knight could even comprehend what had happened, the thundering hooves of Liam's warhorse crushed down on him, the weight pinning him to the ground. His back arched in agony as the horse's hooves dug into his armor, the sound of the crushing impact echoing across the battlefield.
The mighty Kantadar knight, who had seemed so invincible moments ago, was left sprawled in the dirt, like a dog eating dust, his body broken by the sheer force of the attack.
If it weren't for the heavy armor encasing his body, the knight would've been dead on the spot, crushed beneath Liam's horse like a bug beneath a wheel. But for now, he was merely dazed, his body aching but intact.
Leon's eyes narrowed as he watched the chaotic scene, his friend's horse plowing through the enemy like a battering ram. There was no time to hesitate. Without a second thought, Leon sprang into action, his body reacting with the instincts honed by countless moments of practice. His hands moved swiftly, forming the familiar gestures he had perfected in idle moments.
Closing in on the downed knight, Leon slid to a halt just a step away from his target, his boots skidding in the dirt. He dropped into a half-crouch, kneeling on one knee, his hands forming the magical seal he knew all too well. His fingers aimed directly at the knight's helmet, his heart pounding in his chest.
The knight, groggy from the impact but far from defeated, gritted his teeth and began pushing himself up. He reached out for the halberd that had slipped from his grip, his eyes narrowing with fury. But as he lifted his head, his vision filled with a blinding white light.
"Surprise, motherfucker!" Leon growled under his breath, his voice tinged with satisfaction.
The light at Leon's fingertips burst forth, exploding into a brilliant flash. At such close range, the speed of the magic was unstoppable. A searing arrow of light shot out, leaving a glowing trail in its wake as it hurtled toward the knight's visor.
BANG!!!
The explosion was instantaneous. The force of the light arrow detonated inside the knight's helmet, the metal warping and crumpling under the pressure. There was no time to react, no chance for survival. The knight's head; blood, brain matter, eyes, and skull, shattered like a watermelon smashed with a hammer. The helmet rocketed off his body, flying into the air as the grisly remains sprayed across the battlefield in a mess of red and white.
Leon felt the rush of victory, but it came at a cost. His vision blurred, his body growing weak, as if the effort had drained every last drop of energy from him. He collapsed to the ground, barely able to hold himself up on trembling arms. Sweat poured from his body, soaking the inside of his armor. He now understood why Miss Lola had warned him, there was only enough strength for one shot, and even then, it left him on the edge of collapse.
Behind him, Liam, still on horseback, heard the explosion and turned back in alarm. "Leon!" he shouted, his voice full of concern.
Leon, struggling to stay upright, forced himself to respond. "I'm fine! Go help Brandon! He's down on the other side!" His voice was hoarse, but the urgency was clear.
Liam nodded, spurring his horse in the direction of their fallen companion. Leon, meanwhile, staggered to his feet, fighting off the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him. His body ached, his energy depleted, but he wasn't done yet.
With trembling hands, he bent down and pulled the sword from the waist of the dead knight. The weight of the weapon felt heavy in his grip, but it was better than being defenseless. He could hear the thunder of hooves approaching, growing louder with each passing second.
Leon's heart sank. He knew what that meant. It wasn't just Liam coming; no, the entire village had been roused. More enemies were on the way.
What now? Leon thought, his mind racing. How do I get out of this?
Desperate, he called out in his heart, Miss Lola, do you have any special moves left? Anything?
But the only answer was silence. There was no magic left, no hidden power to call upon. Leon was on his own now.
Suddenly, a massive shadow loomed overhead, casting a dark veil over the battlefield. Leon's heart skipped a beat as he looked up, his sword clutched tightly in his hands.
"Death Claw!?" he gasped, disbelief flashing across his face.
He never thought he'd see it again. The monstrous figure swooped down from the sky, its descent eerily silent. No roar, no sound accompanied its approach; just the chilling presence of death incarnate, plummeting toward the Kantadar soldiers like a grim reaper from the heavens.
All Leon could do was brace himself for what came next.