The imperial soldiers watched in astonishment as the trio conversed in the middle of the battle. While the ordinary troops fought for their lives, Scáthach and Selene cut down monsters like grain. A battle cry erupted from the ranks, and the men pushed back the monsters on either side with renewed fervor, striving to match their commanders’ performance.
Aura narrowed her eyes fondly as she watched. “They’re giving us their best. We have to keep going.”
Scáthach nodded. “Very well. I suppose it would do more harm than good to dampen their morale now.”
Appeased, or perhaps embarrassed to have spoken up unnecessarily, she hefted her spear behind her back and took off for the battlefront at blinding speed. Selene sprinted ahead of her. Aura knew the second prince had a score to settle. Selene had commanded the right flank prior to Aura’s arrival, and it was under her leadership that it had fatally crumbled. Aura had since looked into the situation and discovered a string of irregularities that suggested Selene was likely not to blame, but in her own eyes...
“If I’ve disgraced myself in battle,” the second prince growled, “I’d better redeem myself in battle.”
She was not fighting for revenge, or for retaliation, or for any cause with such a clearly defined enemy. Her battle was with herself, to redeem herself in her own eyes. No one could help her. This was a trial she had to face alone. All Aura could do was pray she would find the strength to overcome it.
“And I’ll do my part too.”
A steady flame lit in Aura’s steel-gray eyes. She would do all she could to the best of her ability.
＊＊＊＊＊
Garda slowed as he saw the dust cloud rising from the center. With monsters all around, he barely had space to breathe, but the sight was so astonishing that he could not help himself.
“Would you look at that. The little lady’s come far.”
He had realized the Crimson Princess was made of different stuff from the moment he first saw her. It had been as clear as day that she would eventually surpass him. Nonetheless, he had not expected her to come into her own so quickly.
“I would have given her five years at the least. It’s true, then. Humans are full of endless possibilities.”
That was a trait the powerful zlosta lacked. They were born complete, while humans were born flawed, but that gave the latter much greater aptitude for growth. Perhaps that was only natural. Humans lived fleeting lives, but they spent every moment exploring their own potential. The zlosta and the álfar had lifespans three times as long, but their intrinsic perfection made them complacent, caring little for growth or change. It was no wonder humans had always been the ones to accomplish the greatest feats.
Luka shattered a monster’s skull with her greathammer and turned to him with disdainful eyes. “Pay attention, brute. We are fighting a battle, if you hadn’t noticed.”
Her naked hostility brought Garda back to the present. “Forgive me,” he grunted. “I was marveling at the vanguard’s progress.”
“Has your brain rotted between your ears? It must have. This is no time to stand around slack-jawed. Or do you mean to let them steal the show?”
With a huff of irritation, she crushed the life from another monster. It was dead before it struck the ground, but that didn’t stop her from vengefully bludgeoning its corpse.
“Rush blindly ahead and we’ll only get ourselves killed,” Garda cautioned. “They have their pace, and we have ours— Oof!”
He broke off as Vajra’s crushing weight lifted him clean off the ground. He managed to block the blow, but it launched him past the front line and into the enemy’s midst.
“Has she lost her mind? Am I not on her side?!”
If he hadn’t readied his sword in time, the greathammer would have felled him where he stood. Luka had swung to kill. Still, she was the least of his concerns now. A cold sweat broke out on his brow as he watched monsters close in on all sides. Drool dripped from their jaws as they regarded him, overjoyed that fresh meat had fallen so obligingly into their ranks.
Garda had no intention of being easy prey. He took the initiative, swinging his greatsword with all his might. He was already turning toward his next target as blood splattered his lilac skin.
“What are you doing, Miss Luka?!”
“Forgive me, Huginn. I fear my hand slipped.”
“That wasn’t an accident! I saw how far he flew!”
“He’s hardy enough. He’ll survive.”
“That’s not the problem!”
A distinctly unhurried conversation reached Garda’s ears as he fought for his life.
“Someone’s got to help him! Just hold tight! I’m coming!”
“Not so fast, Huginn. Rush blindly ahead and you will only get yourself killed.”
Those last words sounded oddly familiar. With a surge of anger, Garda swept his sword through a monster’s torso, cleaving it in two.
“I won’t let you put yourself in harm’s way. Muninn, carve us a path.”
“What, all by myself? Not likely!”
“Perhaps I could launch you as I launched him.”
“Uh... After me, you layabouts! We’re going to save the boss!”
A rather reluctant battle cry arose from the imperial lines.
“Curse that woman,” Garda muttered. “Is she using me to gain ground?”
There was no one around to answer. The monsters only threw themselves at him with ever greater ferocity. He thrust his sword into one’s mouth as it leaped at him with jaws agape, then leaped into the air, splitting its skull apart. The momentum carried him through into another strike that lopped off another monster’s arm.
“I never should have let her watch my back. A mistake I won’t make twice.”
Luka was a menace, no matter which side she was on. A chill ran down his spine as he set about cutting down his foes. Eventually, he lost count of his kills. His newly procured armor grew dented and damaged, and blood and fat dulled his greatsword. Yet just as his plight began to look dire...
“We’re here, boss! Ready to help!”
A fresh greatsword landed on the ground beside him as Muninn and a host of riders burst through the enemy lines. He threw his old blade into the monsters’ midst, grasped the new one, and swung. Three foes fell to the ground, and he followed through into a vertical slice.
“Much appreciated. I may owe you my life.”
As the cavalry laid waste to the enemy, Garda thrust his sword into the ground, took off his helm, and wiped the sweat from his brow. He had been certain he would die. Now that he had space to breathe, it was hard not to think about the woman who had flung him into the enemy lines, and he had to remind himself not to let anger cloud his mind.
“Watch your back, brute.”
“Hm?”
Garda turned just in time to catch a spray of blood to the face. A monster thudded to the ground mid-leap. He closed his eyes to wipe the blood away. When he opened them again, Luka was there, resting Vajra atop the corpse.
“You ought to be grateful,” she said with a snort. “I do believe I just saved your life.”
She showed no remorse whatsoever. He pursed his lips, conflicted. He was tempted to give her a piece of his mind, but he had to admit, without her intervention, he might have been dead.
“Have you nothing to say?”
Her attitude rankled, but he told himself a debt was a debt. “Forgive me. You have my thanks.”
“Good. Now, don’t just stand there looking foolish. We have a battle to win.” She hefted Vajra and took off for where Huginn and Muninn were fighting.
Garda watched her go in stunned silence. Finally, he sighed and raised his eyes to the sky. “I blame you for this, One-Eyed Dragon.”