Legend
A Fairy Tail Fanfic Created by Shaturu
Disclaimer: Hiro Mashima owns all characters and ideas associated with the Fairy Tail series. I claim nothing but the plot of this story.
Author's Note: The idea for this fic has actually been floating around my mind for almost a year now! It wasn't until recently that I finally put it onto paper. Anyways, this is the first chapter. I left it short on purpose (I split the original "first" chapter into two chapters, which ended up working much better for me). I realized I could update much more efficiently with shorter chapters. I hope you like it! And I'd be grateful if you left a review.
Chapter 1: Last Shot
The soldiers ducked behind their shields as the door, broken from its latch and hinges, flew violently at them with a vwoom and into the wall of the corridor behind them, splitting the heavy oak planks and creating an impact which shattered the glass mosaics on either side of the crimson hall.
Shivering, they peeked over the rims of their shields. Coughing and squinting through ash and smoke, they were able to witness the horror of the demonic figure who stood in the doorway.
Her long scarlet hair billowed wildly around her stained face as she stepped through the pile of rubble. Lines of splattered blood striped her arms and neck; gore smeared the blade of her great sword.
Her presence greatly frightened the soldiers. There was no one else in all of Edolas whom they feared more. She was, they thought, the antichrist.
She loosed a quick, mocking smile at them, and the men responded with squeals, their expressions wimpy and horrified.
It was Grand General Erza Knightwalker: Destroyer of Worlds.
One of the soldiers, feeling particularly brave this very day, seized the opportunity to dart out of formation and stab his spear at Erza's exposed throat.
With a mere flick of her wrist, Knightwalker parried the thrust, swinging her blade faster than either a human or an Exceed could follow. The soldier's face grew slack with fear as he wet his pants upon realization of his mistake. He tried to flee, but before he could move more than a few inches, Knightwalker lunged forward and took him in the gut.
The remaining warriors shuffled backward, although they kept their spears and pikes shakily trained on the woman.
Without a word, Knightwalker ran forward and, with a single stroke of her blade, lopped off the tops of several polearms with ease. She then slashed the nearest soldier across the chest, slicing through his mail as if it were the flimsiest of cloth. A fountain of blood arose. Then she stabbed the next soldier in line, hijacking his shield and using it to strike the man to her left, knocking him into three of his companions and bowling them over.
You're too late, she thought with grim satisfaction. You should have left this place while you still had the chance.
But then, a swift movement at the periphery of her vision caught Knightwalker's attention. She looked just in time as the wall to her right collapsed, the gaping jaws of a brightly scaled wyvern bursting through and rushing toward her.
With hardly a moment to react, Knightwalker found herself caught within its jowls, the overwhelming force of the drake pressuring and bulldozing her through the hard-brick wall and out into the night sky.
Shit! she swore to herself, her body now several stories above the ground.
The dragon accelerated, madly driving her out the keep, where she struggle helplessly with her better arm trapped within the confines of its hulking mouth.
"General Knightwalker!"
The cold wind of the night beating against her face, she made great effort to look to her left, where a figure standing along the castle battlements a bit ways away was calling out to her.
"General Hughes!" she replied professionally, squinting in the rush of air. She appeared rather relaxed before him, despite the extremity of her current situation.
With a sense of urgency, the captain appeared to be making hand signs. He was also shouting something.
Knightwalker, ears popping, had difficulty making out the message. But then it suddenly became crystal clear.
BEHIND YOU!
And then, with a thunderous crash, the mad wyvern drove aimlessly into the castle tower, a cloud of smoke instantly pouring out from the obstruction upon collision.
The captain cursed in dismay, leaning over the edge of the castle battlement and peering out toward the crash site.
"Leo!" shouted Hughes, his gaze maintained at the crash site.
The lieutenant from behind immediately straightened his posture, saluting. "Yes sir!"
"Contact Sugarboy's squad!" he shouted, exercising his power over the lower-ranking soldier. "Inform him that we have a situation at the northeast tower! Pronto!"
"Yes sir yes sir!" the lieutenant shouted back, before running off hurriedly.
Frustrated under pressure, Hughes growled, gritting his teeth and tightening his grip at the edge of the battlement, surveying the exterior of the half-destroyed tower.
Damn it!
There was no way they could afford to lose Erza. The mission was strictly to capture Dreyar and secure the keep, with as little casualties as possible. The King had given them a week's time to complete their task, and they were nearing expiration date. The past few days were hell, and little to no progress had been made toward reaching their goal. This was their last shot. If the Grand General were to die now, it would mean game over.
Hughes strengthened his clutch vigorously, his knuckles crackling. "Damn it don't die on me Knightwalker.."
Covered in layers of dirt, blood, ash, and sweat, she breathed.
Debris distorted her vision and clogged her throat. And an odd huffing sound broke through her mouth. Even with her excellent vision, she could only make out the largest shapes in the darkness, for the fallen stones had extinguished the torches on the walls.
Panting for breath, Knightwalker rose from the pile of ash, blood dripping from her fingers. Over to her left, she could make out the shape of the battered corpse of the wyvern which dragged her into this mess.
Was this dragon without a rider? she thought to herself, with her left hand clasped over her bloodied right arm (which had been severely torn during her encounter with the winged beast).
But even if it was, she thought, there was no way he or she could have survived.
Ack! She coughed, blood spilling out her mouth and onto her chin. It tasted metallic.
Then, with the combined strength of every muscle in her body, she moved forward. It was one of the hardest things she had ever done.
"Nugh.." she groaned, having underestimated the severity of her injuries.
Her vision was beginning to blear out.
I can't fail.. she thought, her body going numb.
I can't..
Fail.. And then as the debris choked the remaining breath out from her throat, her eyes rolled back into her head as she fainted.
To Be Continued