Tunk Tunk Tunk Tunk Tunk Tunk
Ophelia's carriage thundered down the twisting forest path, wheels rattling as the horses galloped at full tilt. Flanking the carriage, the knights ran seemingly with unlimited stamina, with golden light radiating from their open palms. Their expressions were focused and not a single one displayed signs of exhaustion.
Inside the carriage, Ophelia sat with one hand clutching the edge of her seat to steady herself, her gaze piercing as she stared into the dark forest around her, her mind racing with calculations and strategies. She knew that at this speed, they'd reach the village soon, but each second felt like an eternity as the desperate urgency gnawed at her.
"This should do…" She muttered to herself.
"What should do?" A voice suddenly echoed from across her.
Her expressionless face twisted into anxiety as she slowly turned her head to see… her. Herself. Sitting across from Ophelia was a figure identical to her, but with a surreal, haunting quality that made her appear as though she had emerged from a dark, twisted dream.
This other Ophelia had the same long, pale hair that cascaded over her shoulders, but it seemed almost too perfect as if carved from moonlight itself. Her skin was alabaster, nearly luminous, contrasting starkly against the dark, lace-trimmed attire she wore. Chains draped around her, wrapping around her head and shoulders in a way that seemed both binding and ornamental.
A thick, black, thorned crown sat atop her head, spiked and jagged, its design mimicking flames or barbed vines. Her eyes, heavy-lidded and hauntingly intense, met Ophelia's gaze with a calmness that bordered on unsettling. She held herself with an air of dark regality, her expression a mask of cold indifference. However, her gaze held something deeper: a lifetime of burdens.
Then, finally, to top it all off, there was that golden cross hanging from her neck. That hauntingly beautiful golden cross.
"What?" Ophelia's eyes widened as she retreated backward until her back was flush against the velvet seat behind. "How? Who? What-"
"I am you."
"Yes, I obviously know that…" Ophelia then immediately got to questioning. "Are you a product of this new power I obtained?"
"That is what I like about us. We do not hesitate to question…" The clone's eyes somehow grew colder, her dark heavy lids falling even further, revealing only but a sliver of her silver pupils. "However, what I do not like, is you becoming weak."
"Me? Weak?" Ophelia's eyes widened once more, but this time out of arrogance.
"Yes, I love that. That pride twisted into arrogance is what kept us strong and safe. However, you are becoming weak."
"Elaborate," Ophelia muttered through gritted teeth.
"Do you understand how we got here?"
"Stop asking questions. Answer me."
"But that is exactly what you do? You always question and that is what kept us strong and safe."
"..."
"Nothing to say?"
"..."
"Then I believe it is time we got to the main topic at hand… your weakness. You are falling in love again."
"Can I not?" Ophelia raised an eyebrow.
"You absolutely cannot."
"Why?"
"Do you remember how we died?" There was a long pause before she cracked open her lips again. "HOW WE FUCKING DIED!?" The clone heatedly stood up, kicking her foot across the carriage and stamping it on the cushy backboard right next to Ophelia's chest. "EVERY SINGLE TIME WE WERE SET BACK! IT WAS BECAUSE WE HAD GROWN ATTACHED TO SOMETHING!"
"Then, we just have to be stronger."
"YOU-"
"We have already gone back in time. We of all people got the chance to redo everything. All of our past mistakes… and do you really think I was not aware of such things? I am you!" Ophelia pushed the clone back onto her side of the carriage, grabbing her by her face as she got up to close to her and yelled, "I AM YOU! YOU ARE ME! YOU SPEAK ALL OF THIS CRAP YET YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN WHAT WE HAVE DONE! WHAT WE HAVE ACCOMPLISHED! WHAT WE HAVE TAKEN! AND NOW WE HAVE THE CHANCE TO TAKE IT ALL BACK AND MORE!"
The clone loosened her jaw and eerily smiled.
"Then do not regret it. I do not want to come back here again."
"Huh?" Ophelia let go of the clone's face.
"Have you not realized yet? This is a dream… a dream born from your own uncertainties. The sole reason why I am here in front of you is because in the far reaches of your mind, you know what can— no, what WILL happen if we go down this path again," The clone preached.
"Do not try and sway me. You are me. I am you. You know what I am planning and have planned. You are only here to—"
Suddenly, a deep hum bounded through the air around her, an unearthly sound that seemed to come from all directions and yet from nowhere at all.
VWOOP
Ophelia's eyes snapped open, her chest rising and falling heavily as she caught her breath. Her hands trembled slightly, and she felt the dampness of cold sweat on her palms. The dim light inside the carriage flickered as she took a moment to steady herself, blinking to dispel the lingering vision of her other self.
.
["Know your place"]
.
She saw the panel. She processed the words. Her jaw clenched.
"Lady Ophelia!" a voice called from outside, grounding her back into reality. Captain Edwin's voice was firm. "We've arrived."
She took a final deep breath, composed herself, and reached for the door. Stepping out of the carriage with the hand of Captain Edwin, Ophelia was immediately met by the cool night air and the flickering glow of torches in the distance. She glanced around, taking in her surroundings. They had stopped on the northern perimeter of the village, just beyond the reach of the battle.
From here, she could see the chaotic scene unfolding on the village's southern edge. A horde of bandits, numbering in the hundreds, surged forward like a tidal wave, their torches casting a fiery glow against the darkened trees. Shouts, cries, and the clash of metal filled the air as the bandits tried to press forward.
The beastmen of the village were meeting them head-on, holding the line fairly well. Even from this distance, Ophelia could see their eyes blazing, their awakened beastly, muscular forms moving with terrifying speed and strength. The bandits, in their mismatched armor and wielding an array of crude weapons, were finding it difficult to penetrate the defensive formation of the beastmen warriors.
However, what was really making a difference was the four holy knights leading the front lines.
After surveying his surroundings, Captain Edwin approached Ophelia once more, his expression as steady as always, though his eyes carried a hint of apprehension as he looked over the battlefield. "My Lady," he said quietly, "the villagers and the rest of our knights are doing their best to hold them back. We must act swiftly if we are to turn the tide."
"No. Not yet."
A few minutes passed.
"My Lady," he urged again, his voice low but insistent. "The beastmen hold the line for now, but they cannot do so indefinitely. If we act now, we could scatter these bandits—"
"Patience, Captain," Ophelia interrupted, her tone steady. "Not yet. Let them wear themselves down first."
Captain Edwin's brow furrowed as he looked at her, uncertain. "But… the bandits are pressing hard. Don't you think the beastmen could use our aid?"
Ophelia gave a slight shake of her head. "These are not soldiers, Captain. They are mere rabble, wielding torches and crude weapons, more comfortable with terrorizing villagers than engaging in true combat. They lack discipline, and more importantly…" Her gaze fell even more into a colder gaze, "...they lack stamina."
Edwin frowned, still clearly unsettled. "So you believe they will tire?"
"I know they will," Ophelia replied calmly. "They do not have the physical endurance of the beastmen, nor the strength of trained soldiers. Look closely, Captain." She gestured toward the scene below. "They're already showing signs of fatigue… sluggish movements, disorganized attacks. It's only a matter of time."
The Captain paused, observing the bandits once again. Now that Ophelia had pointed it out, he could see the subtle differences. Some of the bandits had slowed down, their swings sloppier than before, while others clutched at their sides, gasping for breath.
"But… if we wait too long," Edwin began, "won't they regroup or retreat?"
"Precisely," Ophelia said, a faint smile curving her lips. "Once they realize they can't break through, they'll retreat to regroup and bring in the second wave. That is when we strike. They will feel satisfied, convinced they've instilled fear into the villagers, ready to send the other half of their troupe which we witnessed earlier. They'll think they've gained ground until they find themselves surrounded."
"Surrounded, my lady?" Captain Edwin echoed, glancing around at the knights gathered behind them.
"Yes. As they begin their retreat, you Holy Knights will move in from either side, closing off their escape routes. The bandits will be funneled into one large mass, making it impossible for them to maneuver. Then divide and conquer. Simple as that."
Edwin cupped his mouth as he processed the information. "Once they are funneled into one large mass, we split them up into four sections, allowing us to cut them down easier… Of course. With the bandits already exhausted, it will be a massacre."
"Indeed. You knights are each the equivalent of ten ordinary soldiers. Exhausted bandits won't stand a chance against you all," Ophelia replied confidently. She glanced back at Edwin and his comrades, who stood ready.
Edwin nodded, the tension in his face easing. "Understood, my lady. So, we wait for the first wave to weaken, retreat, then close in from both sides and eliminate them."
"Exactly," Ophelia affirmed. "But remember, Captain—this must be swift and precise. I want no loose ends. I don't want any of them escaping to warn the others. If even one manages to slip by, this night will turn much bloodier than all of us would like."
"But, My Lady… even if none of the beastmen die, couldn't we still prevent more from being heavily injured—"
"If we were to pincer them now, there is a high chance somebody will escape due to the chaotic nature of the battlefield in front of us. I trust you all are strong, but there are some factors I would like to minimize to absolute zero… but that means letting a few beastmen be injured."
A wary gaze shone in Edwin's eyes as he gripped the hilt of his sword. "I… I understand, Lady Ophelia. We will execute this flawlessly."
Ophelia gave a slight nod. "Good. Now… we wait for the right moment. All of you, wait for my signal. I will only get in the way so I will be staying far away, so really pay attention to me, understood?"
"Yes, My Lady," The four holy knights chanted before watching the future Duchess walk off into the darkness of the forest.
In the shadows of the dense forest, the holy knights took their positions, each blending into the darkness, silent and motionless. Their hands rested on their swords, bodies balanced with a calmness that misrepresented the lethal energy crackling just beneath the surface. The golden light radiating from their palms dimmed slightly as they crouched low, preparing to spring into action.
Just as predicted, the first wave of bandits began to stagger back, their chaotic retreat a mix of exhaustion and sadistic satisfaction. They wore expressions of cruel glee, believing they had struck fear into the villagers, their bodies bloodied, scratched, and bruised from the skirmish with the beastmen. But the bandits were blissfully unaware of the ambush awaiting them.
As the first wave of bandits crossed the intersection between the two pairs of knights, Ophelia's voice rang out, clear and commanding.
"NOW!"
In an instant, the four Holy Knights surged forward from the shadows, golden light blazing from their bodies in the shape of fierce golden lions. Each knight seemed cloaked in a radiant, golden lion's mantle, the luminous energy draping over their shoulders and flickering like flames as they charged into the mob. The bandits, stunned for a heartbeat, looked up to see the fierce soldiers of light advancing toward them. Panic flared in their eyes as they realized the trap.
With precision and ferocity, the knights tore into the mass of bandits, their aura-cloaked forms cleaving the group into four distinct sections. Bandits found themselves cut off from one another, boxed in by the wall of golden warriors surrounding them. The Holy Knights moved with swift footwork, every step calculated to prevent any from escaping the funnel they had formed. The knights moved like seasoned predators, and any bandit who tried to break away was met with a flash of steel as the knights cut them down without hesitation.
One knight, his movements as fluid as a dancer's, intercepted a bandit attempting to flee. His sword glinted as it slashed through the air, severing the man's escape — and his life — in a single, graceful arc. Another knight leaped into a group that tried to rally, his golden aura blazing as he swept his blade in a wide arc, slicing through the bandits like they were nothing but paper.
The bandits' initial shock transformed into terror as they realized the hopelessness of their position. They were trapped, split apart, unable to regroup, each section bounded by an unyielding wall of holy light and deadly steel. The golden lion auras flared brighter with each strike, each movement as if the knights were feeding off the very fear they instilled in their foes.
Slowly but surely, the knights closed in on each section, methodically cutting down any remaining resistance. The golden aura illuminated the dark forest, casting long shadows over the blood-soaked ground as the bandits fell one by one, unable to escape the inevitable.
Within minutes, the chaotic battlefield had settled into eerie silence. The four Holy Knights stood in the center, the last glimmers of golden light fading from their forms, surrounded by the remnants of the shattered bandit force.
Not a single one had escaped.
"Absolutely flawless," Ophelia muttered with a satisfied smile.