“Evil witch who dares defy the will of the gods!” Theodoric roared. “There will be no more running away for you this time! The Goddess is with us! We will find you, no matter where you hide! Now hand over Elizavett!”
“No way! I’m not giving you Elizabat! Hmph!” Kanata said, sticking her hands on her hips and pouting theatrically.
“Sister...” said Alus, skillfully plucking away a bread crumb left over from breakfast that had been stuck on Kanata’s cheek. “Nobody will take you seriously if you have food stuck to your face.”
Elizavett, meanwhile, huffed in annoyance from her perch on Kanata’s shoulder. “Persistent bastard...” she said. “Do you not understand? I belong to Mistress!”
“Hm?” Theodoric blinked, a puzzled look coming over his face.
“I am not without sympathy, of course,” Elizavett continued haughtily. “I cannot fault you for being stricken with admiration for a peerless beauty such as myself. However, I, too, have a right to choose my partners. Never would I go with the likes of you! Some flowers one may never touch. Besides, ’twas you who burned down my castle! You’ve given me every reason to hold you in enmity, and not one to regard you with fondness!”
Theodoric regarded the pink furball with clear irritation.
“That magic beast...” he said. “It was with you when we spoke in the mirror too, wasn’t it? If it’s your companion, Beast Tamer, tell it to quit butting in when we’re talking! Doesn’t it know we’re discussing important matters?”
“I-I’m telling you, I am Elizavett!” Elizavett protested. “The one you seek!”
“My Elizavett isn’t some pathetic furball!!!” Theodoric roared, sending flecks of saliva flying from his mouth.
“Eeek!” Elizavett cried, taking shelter behind Kanata’s head.
To Theodoric, the subject of Elizavett was conversational holy ground, not to be trodden on lightly. Elizavett was a miracle—the manifestation of his every ideal—the embodiment of beauty. His love for her, cultivated from that one single glimpse of an ancient portrait, was no mere trifle. For this absurd creature to insist that she herself was Elizavett was an unbearable insult.
“’T-Tis no lie!” Elizavett insisted. “I am Elizavett, I’m telling you!”
“That’s right!” Kanata chirped, gently comforting the trembling furball. “Elizabat is Elizabat!” Then she held Elizavett’s fluffy body up to her nose and took a number of deep, heavy breaths.
“So you won’t give that up, I see...” Theodoric said. “Very well. Look at this!” He held up an object bundled in cloth and tore away the covering, revealing the portrait of the woman in the crimson dress. It seemed he had brought it all the way to the battlefield. “Lifelike, isn’t it, the portrait of my beloved?” he said, holding it high for all to see. “Behold! This is Elizavett! Now tell me, do you look anything like her?!”
“Ah!” cried Elizavett. “Truly, ’tis me! And a good semblance, at that!”
“Indeed,” agreed Zag’giel. “It was painted by a skilled hand.”
“It does look like you,” Fenrir nodded. “Although the real you has a much haughtier smile. I can’t imagine you smiling so gracefully as that painting!”
“No, it doesn’t!!!” Theodoric’s temper flared higher and higher as Zag’giel and Fenrir both backed up Elizavett’s claim. His gorgeous features were twisted in a mask of rage at the three furballs. Of course, he had no idea that this really was Elizavett transformed. Theodoric’s shoulders were heaving as he fumed, but he seemed to calm down a little bit after all the shouting. He brushed his hair out of his eyes and put his helmet back on.
“Well, no matter,” he said. “If you are so determined to keep me from Elizavett, I’ll tear this whole fiefdom apart until I find her!”
The knights readied their lances, waiting for Theodoric’s order.
“Hey, hey, wait, are you nuts?!” Boldow protested. “It’s right before the harvest!”
“I believe, Lord Aldezia, that rather than some trampled wheat fields, what you should worry for is your life!” Theodoric drew his sword, and pointed it in the direction of the fiefdom’s militia. “Knights, charge!”
And the army surged forward to attack, with perfect discipline.
† † †
The Goddess watched the battle from on high, her smile widening to a grin as the force of knights charged forth, trampling the wheat under their horses’ hooves.
“Yes, my Hero Theodoric. Perfect,” she said with a chuckle.
One of the skills Theodoric had obtained upon becoming Hero was known as Morale—an ability that raised the fighting strength of his allied combatants several times over. There was no limit to the area affected by this ability. Anyone Theodoric considered to be an ally would have their strength raised at no cost to him. Moreover, the knights under his command were elite fighters even before the boost from Morale. They were a force thousands strong, each with their abilities boosted many times over. They should be more than capable of crushing the wretched farmers who made up the population of the Aldezias’ fiefdom underfoot. Theodoric himself, as well, had obtained tremendous power from the Profession change to Hero.
The Goddess was confident in her victory. “Even she shouldn’t be able to resist a force like this!”
She meaning Kanata Aldezia—the girl with the power to defy the laws of her world. Her Profession of Beast Tamer should have lowered her abilities precipitously, but Kanata’s strength was simply abnormal, even by the standards of the gods. And so, the Goddess had taken every conceivable precaution and played every card she had.
“A Hero needs companions, after all!”
She had scoured the entire world, seeking the strongest sword fighters she could to grant the Profession Divine Sword. She granted the Profession Sage to those she found with the most magic power, and the most skill at casting difficult magic. Nor were her efforts by any means limited to Divine Swords and Sages. She went around and around, granting the highest-level Professions she could to anyone who would take them. The Professions came with an oath of loyalty, and a promise to strike down the enemies of the gods, but very few mortals saw fit to refuse the Goddess’s offer. Most of them were desperate for power, and eager to prostrate themselves before the Goddess’s authority in order to obtain a top-tier Profession.
“The strongest Hero, the strongest companions, and the strongest army...” the Goddess mused. Her preparations were complete. Not one element was lacking. It had cost her the greater half of her ability to intervene in the mortal world and produce a fighting force of such power, but that was no matter. Once that girl was gone, there would be none who could interfere with her designs.
This time, for certain, the Goddess would be rid of the girl who had gotten between her and humanity’s faith—the girl who had ruined their harvest of souls. No more would she have to suffer the condescending attitude of her fellow gods, who’d never worked a day in their immortal lives and did nothing but devour the souls she prepared for their consumption.
“Now, Kanata Aldezia!” she said. “You will be destroyed, along with the ones you seek to protect!”
† † †
“Okay! Here I come!” Kanata sang, stretching out her shoulders as she prepared to take on yet another entire army. Before she could deliver their much-needed thrashing, however, Boldow stopped her.
“Now, now!” he said. “Why don’t you let your old dad show you some of his cool side for a change?” He stepped up in front of the young men of the militia he had trained, and surveyed the crowd. “The lot of you aren’t afraid of some puffed-up knights, are you?!”
The response was immediate. “Yes we are!”
“Of course we’re afraid, you idiot! We’re farmers!”
“This’ll be our first actual battle and you want us to fight honest-to-goodness knights?! Are you nuts?!”
“How did we end up with this idiot for a lord anyway...?”
Not a one of them seemed at all happy with the developing situation.
“Father,” remarked Alus. “Was that meant to be your cool side? I must say, it wasn’t terribly impressive.”
“Gh!” Boldow shook his head. “Would it kill you to show some respect for your teacher every once in a while?! In formation, all of you! We’ll blast them with our fireballs!”
“We keep telling you, we can’t use magic!”
“May we please use our swords instead, sir?”
“I don’t think they’ll do much against those knights, but at least it’s better than pretending we can cast spells!”
The militia formed ranks between lines of banter, facing off against the oncoming army of knights. They spread their forces out, matching the width of the invaders’ column. They were severely outnumbered—their defensive line was full of holes—but thanks to their training, they showed no signs of freezing up even as the knights drew nearer. They waited, swords drawn, taking even, measured breaths, for Boldow’s next order.
“Awesome!” Boldow said. “I mean... Let’s go, everyone! Strike hard, then flow like water!”
It hardly seemed like proper orders, but with that, the militia charged forth, Boldow at their head.
† † †
The Goddess smiled with divine pity as she watched from the heavens. “Challenging my army of knights with a mere few score amateurs? I suppose that’s admirable of him.”
The difference in power between the two forces could not possibly be more stark. It was like watching an ant march out to challenge an elephant. There was only one possible outcome—the ant would be crushed in a second, ground into the dirt so that not even a corpse would remain.
That obvious outcome, however, did not come to pass. There was an enormous sound of metal being crushed, loud enough to reach the heavens themselves.
“Wh-What?!” said the Goddess. “What was that?!”
The army of knights had been stopped. A single line of farmers, not even a hundred strong, had halted the advance of a legion of knights dozens of times their size.
“Huh? We blocked them?” asked one of the militia youths, his boots digging a deep groove into the field from the effort of stopping a knight’s lance, as well as his entire horse.
“So...” another of his companions said. “I guess these knights are actually super weak?”
“More like we’re super strong, I think!” said another.
“I can’t believe it! There’s no way a bunch of farmers from the middle of nowhere are stronger than all these knights!”
“Is this the result of Lord Boldow’s training, maybe...?”
Everyone shook their heads at once.
“No way!”
“Anything but that!”
“Of course it is!” Boldow shouted as he took on the dead center of the knights’ column, where the enemy forces were thickest. “Can’t you guys have just a little bit of faith in me?” He shook his head, turning his mind back to the battle. “We broke their charge!” he said. “Now it’s just a melee! All of these knights are enemies, so go as nuts as you like!”
“Yeah!” The militia cheered.