Laslow

Laslow waited for the final blow. But it never came.

He looked up to see Ryoma now a few metres away from him, and for a brief second, he thought Ryoma had reconsidered and taken mercy on him. But that was rather unlikely. Laslow kept clutching the large wound across his chest that continued to bleed through his fingers, along with the multitude of other cuts and slashes across his body. He gave another cough, waiting for Ryoma to return and finish him off for good.

There was a loud crack and Laslow looked up in alarm. And above him, aimed at Ryoma ahead of him, was a large dark beam, coated with blood red lightning and energy. Laslow gasped, before tentatively turning his head to confirm his suspicions. And confirmed they were.

Atop a horse dressed for combat, tough dark grey and black armour on its head and neck present and draped down it as part of the saddle to the sides and out the back, was its rider. Its rider was a tall, imposing man with blonde hair like gold and coated in black, red and gold armour. On one of his arms was a small protective shield, in the other was a long sword that was glowing a radiant purple. Its real colour was of gold, white, black and purple, a broad and regal blade whose hilt was molded expertly, the entire weapon, like Raijinto, unscratched and untainted. The sword itself was known as Siegfried and was widely regarded as a legendary weapon on the same status as Raijinto. On the man's forehead was a thin black Nohrian crown.

Crown Prince Xander of Nohr had arrived.

Laslow wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or concerned that Xander was here. On one hand, it showed that Xander seemingly hadn't trusted Laslow's judgment that he and Peri could handle the situation without his assistance. Of course, that had turned out to be false, considering he'd been moments from losing his life to Ryoma. And if there was anyone who could possibly defeat Ryoma, it would be Xander. So in that case, it was probably good that Xander was here, even if it meant Laslow swallowing his pride.

Ryoma spoke up, "It seems the real general of Nohrian army has arrived." Laslow watched as Ryoma squatted into a samurai's fighting stance. "For the good of your troops, surrender." Xander halted his horse, brandishing Siegfried.

"It is you who should be surrendering," Xander replied, not taking his eyes off Ryoma. "I am Prince Xander of Nohr and I order you to surrender." Raijinto's blade pulsed with electricity.

"Do not test my patience, prince of Nohr" Ryoma threatened. "I am Prince Ryoma of Hoshido." Something flickered in Xander's eyes. He seemed intrigued.

"I see," Xander replied, Siegfried's blade burning a bright purple aura in his grasp. He gestured with the reins and his horse charged. Laslow himself was suddenly aware he was in the middle of what was going to be a titanic battle. He rolled over, trying to scramble out of the path of the charging horse. He rolled several times in the snow, ignoring the still-bleeding slashes around his body. He looked up to see Xander's horse leap forward, Siegfried extended. Siegfried and Raijinto met, sending an immediate wave of energy out from the impact between the two legendary weapons. Laslow felt it and was blown back, sledding back through the snow and stopping to a halt on his back, lying there in the snow, his blood beginning to pool around him again. He was growing weaker and weaker and started to think he might be dying after all. As he lay there, he looked over to his side and remembered someone who was likely in a worse way than himself.

Peri lay there nearby, still unmoving, her horse no better, slumped on its side. Laslow still didn't know whether she was dead or alive, though he had to check. He sorely wished a troubadour was present, though he'd have to signal for a physic staff or warp tome, before remembering he'd forgotten his signals. Cursing himself, he rolled over and crawled over to Peri with one arm, still trying to use the other to stop his own bleeding.

He reached her and took a look at her condition. He was no troubadour but he knew that it was pretty bad. She was unconscious and he could see almost the entire right side of her body was badly burnt from the impact of Raijinto's lightning burst. Half of her face had been burnt as well and even some of her hair, gashes covering the side of her face and also shown in some holes burnt in her pink armour. Her purple and pink hair had the headband and ties that bound her hair back in pigtails and now flowed freely. Laslow looked at her pitifully, stroking a hand through her hair and pushing it back to check a large gash on her forehead. He now reached into the back of his belt, praying he hadn't forgotten his healing potions. He found a few and withdrew them, laying them out in front of him.

So far, not good for Peri. Only vulneraries and one concoction. He wasn't sure even the concoction would be enough to save her. Laslow reached over to the other side of his belt, hoping to find an elixir potion somewhere. His fingers curled around another bottle and he took it out excitedly and his heart leapt once he saw the bottle filled with sky blue liquid. He twisted the top off and hesitated for a second, wondering how to go about this. He carefully pushed her head back to open her mouth naturally and, feeling uncomfortable, poured the liquid into Peri's mouth. He then sat her up, being careful not to touch her injuries, and hoped it would allow her to swallow the healing potion. Once he was sure it had been swallowed, he carefully laid her back down. He then grabbed a concoction for himself and downed it in a couple of gulps, feeling the cold red liquid pass down his throat. He then discarded the bottle and returned the other healing potions to his belt. Fortunately, he could feel the concoction already begin to take effect, and he felt most of the blood dripping from the cuts around his body drip their last. He ran a tentative hand down the large cut along his torso and was relieved to find it was no longer bleeding. He wiggled his fingers and also found that the wound from the shuriken through his hand now hurt less as well. Laslow breathed deeply, a relieved sigh that was ended exasperatedly as soon as he realised he was now without a weapon. Laslow looked around, now aware that the battle between the Nohrian and Hoshidan forces had recommenced. He searched the battlefield for a discarded sword and found none. Laslow cursed, before he heard Peri make a noise nearby and he turned to her, kneeling next to her. Peri's eyes opened and the elixir had done its job. The intense burning on her face and the gashes had been repaired and a lot of the blood had now dried up. Her eyes darted around before focusing on Laslow's face looking down at her.

"Ah... hi, Laslow," she said dreamily.

"Hey Peri," he greeted her warmly. Right now, he had get her back into a battle frame of mind. It was only going to be a matter of time before someone noticed the two of them amidst the battle. "Can you walk?"

"Yeah," Peri answered. "I feel a lot better," she beamed. That was good. Laslow made a mental note to never go into battle without an elixir ever again.

"That's good," he said, talking faster. "Listen, do you have a spare sword of something? Get your lance. We're still in a battle. We need to help Lord Xander." Peri's eyes widened.

"Lord Xander's here?" she asked, looking hopeful. Laslow nodded and she beamed again. Peri sat up surprisingly quickly. She looked around for a few moments before grabbing a nearby lance sticking out of the snow. Then she looked despondent.

"I don't think my horsey's good," she said, sounding deflated. In his rush to save Peri, Laslow had forgotten her horse. He plucked a few vulneraries from his belt and jogged over to the slumped over horse.

"Oh, right," he said as he knelt down and checked for a pulse. Somehow, the horse was still alive and it gave a low neigh. Laslow gave it two vulneraries and soothing stroke. The effects were quick. Laslow and Peri carried the horse to its feet, and, from the muddle of weapons attached to the side of her horse, she withdrew a sword from it. It wasn't exactly a premium blade though, not even having a proper handle.

"Sorry, iron's all I got," said Peri as she offered it to Laslow. He took it from her, trying not to look disappointed, and nodded to her, affirming, "It'll do." Peri climbed atop her horse and gave it a small stroke.

"Where's Lord Xander?"she demanded. Laslow looked around, only to see Xander and Ryoma had disappeared. It seemed their battle had taken them elsewhere. He turned back to Peri.

"We'll find him," he promised her. Peri nodded in acceptance. Then, wearing her famous slasher smile, she gleefully said to him, "Time for some killing!" Laslow did his best to smile enthusiastically back, remembering why he was wary of Peri to begin with.

Saizo

Saizo scanned the battlefield. He'd recovered physically from the blows Laslow had struck him, though he still felt shame the pathetic excuse for even a Nohrian had managed to best him in combat, even with the aid of the psychotic Nohrian cavalier, Peri. He'd allowed himself only a single vulnerary. It had been enough. The large slash over his chest and the gaping hole in his shoulder had both healed significantly enough, though he still felt a tingling in his injured shoulder. He ignored it, however, focusing on the battle situation.

Currently, the overall battle seemed to be even. Around Saizo, both Nohrian and Hoshidan soldiers were falling, blood and bodies piling up in the snow and dying the white a deep crimson red. Drawing a shuriken, Saizo threw a shuriken accurately between the eyes of a Nohrian fighter, a brutish and burly man with an axe and downright stupid clothing for the wintry environment. Which was to say, not much at all. Saizo watched as the stupid fighter fell to the ground with a shuriken embedded in his face.

Saizo tossed another shuriken at a Nohrian dark mage, killing him instantly with the blow before he could notice him. Saizo ignored the chilling cold and continued searching the battlefield for the Nohrian man, Laslow. Laslow had managed to obtain a rare honour from him - Saizo wanted to kill him. More than that, he was determined to. In part because he was clearly the most stable of the two apparent commanders of the Nohrian army, whether Laslow had been truthful about that remained to be seen, but also because Laslow was the kind of person Saizo genuinely hated the most. He was an established liar, used shameful tactics in battle and likely didn't give a horse's arse about anyone other than himself. Saizo could also tell that he was some kind of sexual deviant, judging by the way he'd been staring at Kagero during the brief 'negotiations'. Just thinking about it made Saizo scowl.

Now, with renewed determination, he rushed through the battlefield, executing any Nohrian that caught his eye with a well-placed and decidedly brutal throw of a shuriken or two. They were dropping like flies now, and the image gave Saizo a morbid joy. He didn't enjoy killing his foes to the extent of some others such as Reina and her peculiar fascination with the screams of the dying, yet he couldn't deny he found some satisfaction from it. Especially when it was clear to him they deserved it.

Saizo's eye snapped to the man he'd been looking for. Laslow. The Nohrian man was right there, accompanied by the Nohrian madwoman, Peri. They both looked worse for the wear, currently not fighting, yet clearly suspecting an attack. Saizo decided to confirm Laslow's suspicions.

Saizo drew a shuriken and, deciding it wasn't quite enough, drew a second in his other hand and threw the two of them, one after the other. They both connected in different places in Laslow's back, drawing a cry of pain from him and causing him to fall forward over in pain. That was a shame. Saizo would've preferred one of them to hit his head. Peri turned around now and, with a angry glare at Saizo, she gestured with reins and she charged forward after Saizo, lance extended, to avenge her injured partner. Saizo rolled sideways out of the way, letting her blow past him, before throwing a shuriken at her back from behind, the star not quite piercing the metal and instead noisily clanging off her armour. Taking a second shuriken, he turned back to Laslow's direction, the swordsman still on his knees, and threw a third shuriken to his back, drawing another yelp of pain from him. Saizo turned back and flipped sideways to dodge Peri's lance charge once again. Peri wheeled her horse around with surprising agility and came back toward him at speed, bloody vengeance written in her face. Hmph. Saizo backflipped out of the range of her lance thrust, before crouching to prepare for a jump. He leapt into the air, throwing twin shuriken forward mid-air at Peri before she could recover from her attack. These two stuck with a serrating sound, lodged in through her armour on the breastplate. Peri gave a brief whine, before fighting on, taking a javelin from the supply attached to her horse and lobbing it at him. Saizo dodged this with a quick sidestep, before throwing another shuriken that clanged off her armour for good measure. Peri gave a frustrated growl as she absorbed the attack and brandished her lance again. Saizo gripped his shuriken tightly and leapt into the air, flipping right over Peri, clearing her entire horse's body, before twisting in mid air as he fell and threw a shuriken forcefully at her back. Peri gave a pained scream as Saizo saw that this shuriken had stuck itself in her back. The madwoman teetered on her horse, losing grip on her weapon. Saizo knew she wouldn't be problem for now.

He turned back, eying a still-recovering Laslow, who was still on his knees, and, shuriken in hand, moved quickly toward him. Saizo ran toward him, ready to finish him off with a final shuriken in the back. Laslow must have somehow heard him and turned around, sword in hand, quickly raised it to block Saizo's attack. Saizo didn't stop, however, and brutally pounced on Laslow, aiming his shuriken toward the Nohrian's neck. Hunched over Laslow, Saizo pressed his shuriken further and further toward Laslow's neck, Laslow desperately trying to push back with the flat edge of his sword, the two blades in a lock. Laslow's face was a mask of shock and panic, and Saizo stared a hole through him with a vengeful glare.

Seemingly out of panic and desperation, Laslow began to kick and struggle, before throwing himself backward. Saizo found himself pushed into a forward roll off of Laslow, turning around to face his adversary. Laslow had somehow gotten to his feet, staring at Saizo with the wide-eyed look of a man who'd nearly lost his life. Which was true. Saizo presented a new shuriken and attacked Laslow viciously, his melee shuriken strikes being blocked by his opponent's sword parries. He swung in a wild manner yet made each block and parry difficult for Laslow, using his speed to land a few slices at Laslow's body. Each successful chipped down Laslow, and Saizo knew it was only a matter of time.

Saizo, after a series of hard slashes, leapt into the air and struck at Laslow with a crushing downward strike. Laslow blocked it with his sword, though the impact nearly tripped him and sent him stumbling backward, leaving himself wide open. Saizo produced another shuriken and threw it forcefully at Laslow's chest. The shuriken hit him and Laslow toppled over, stumbling backward before falling over and landing hard on his back, clumsily dropping his sword.

Saizo stalked him, taking out another shuriken from his deep supply, and walked over to his bleeding adversary. Laslow noticed him and rolled away just as Saizo prepared to plunge his shuriken into the Nohrian man's heart. Saizo growled and threw his shuriken at him while he crawled on the ground. Laslow rolled over and managed to deflect the shuriken off his shoulder guard. Saizo growled again. Laslow knew he was on borrowed time now. So why wouldn't he die? Saizo walked over to Laslow as he tried to crawl away from Saizo. He leaned in before Laslow rolled over and nearly slashed him in the face like a cornered cat. Somehow, the lucky dastard had managed to find a sword to use. Saizo watched as Laslow used the planted sword to climb to his feet, again giving him the nearly-dead man's stare. Saizo replied with a cold glare.

Laslow attacked Saizo first this time, slashing away at him. Saizo blocked Laslow's series of slashes, before sidestepping a thrust and launching an attack on Laslow. He savagely slashed sliced at Laslow, though the Nohrian parried all of the attacks, before countering one of Saizo's lunging strikes with a quick dodge and slice that took off a fair lump of Saizo's side. Saizo gave a roar, Laslow reacting with a mask of panic, before Saizo attacked him viciously, getting a light slash past Laslow's defenses and using it to rip at his side. Laslow gave a cry, before Saizo kicked his feet out from under him, sending him crashing into the snow. Saizo raised his shuriken up, ready to drill a hole in Laslow's head in a berserker-like fury. Before Laslow did the most disgraceful thing he could.

All Saizo could feel was the pain in the area that Laslow had just kicked him in. He almost keeled over entirely, stepping backward. It wouldn't have hurt as much as it might've, as Saizo had been trained for this kind of tactic. But Gods did it still hurt like a mother. In plain speech, Laslow had just kicked Saizo between the legs. If Saizo had hated Laslow before, then he absolutely abhorred him now. Laslow had sat up and was clearly aware that this act had enraged Saizo. He looked at Saizo with a half-apologetic face. Saizo looked him straight in the face and snarled.

"That was a mistake." Laslow's eyes widened as he struggled to get to his feet and lift his sword up before Saizo charged at him. He ran at Laslow like a rampaging horse, snatching him by the neck before Nohrian could defend and didn't slow down. Not even for the nearby cliff.

Saizo half-tackled, half slammed Laslow off the edge of the cliff and down into the cliff face. They tumbled down, gaining speed, rolling over and over, both hitting rocks and bumps that skewed the cliff face. Finally, they both landed, Laslow first, then Saizo, both into deep snow, though Saizo still felt the ground as he plummeted into the ground. He groaned, feeling every new cut and bruise he'd obtained from rolling down the short cliff face. He snarled at his sloppiness in that regard, not for taking himself and Laslow down the cliff but for not using the Nohrian as a shield to protect himself from the impacts. That would be a better idea next time. Saizo felt his arms regain movement first and he reached out of the deep hole he'd created in the snow, trying to claw his way out of it, yet the snow he tried to grip simply collapsed in after him. Finally, with both hands, he pushed himself up,shaking his head to get rid of the damned snow and to check whether or not he'd taken any head injury during his fall. Fortunately, he seemed fine. A vulnerary wouldn't be required. His scrotum could still use one, though. Remembering that renewed his hatred of Laslow and he pushed himself to his feet to check whether the Nohrian was dead or not.

A quick glance showed that Laslow was only just recovering from the fall. He'd rolled over to try and push himself up, and Saizo made his way over to him. Laslow seemed to have lost his sword, while Saizo still had his extensive supply of shuriken at his disposal. Laslow had only just gotten to his feet before Saizo took a swing at him with his shuriken, which Laslow ducked. Saizo attacked him again, Laslow stepping back to avoid it, leaning and ducking Saizo's lethal swings. The Nohrian looked around for anything he could use. There was nothing. Most of the fighting seemingly hadn't reached this section. Good. They were alone. That suited Saizo fine. Killing was easier without distractions. Laslow bent over back again as Saizo swung wildly, looking panicked once again. Despite everything, it seemed the Nohrian man hadn't lost his silver tongue.

"Well, it can't get any worse, right?" Laslow suggested to Saizo as he ducked another swing. Saizo simply grunted and attacked Laslow again, which the Nohrian frustratingly dodged with a jump back, still looking around whenever Saizo gave him a free moment.

A nearby roar proved Laslow wrong. And both Saizo and him saw what had found their battle.

The rumours were true. The Faceless did indeed roam the White Woods.

There were at least fifty of them. Savage-looking, dull green-skinned muscular hulking beasts, each wearing a dark grey mask that wrapped around their face. Each mask had holes in it, though no face could be seen within. It made the Faceless seem expressionless, though the beastly roars that came from behind the masks showed this was far from the truth. In the distance, Saizo could now hear surprised shouts and screams from other soldiers in the area. It wouldn't be long before they swarmed the entire battlefield. After that, things could sour for both armies.

A Faceless had now noticed Saizo and Laslow, and reared up with a roar, before charging toward both of them. Laslow shot a desperate look at Saizo, though Saizo couldn't care less about the Nohrian's safety right now. Saizo leapt out of the way of the Faceless' leaping punch. He backflipped out of range of a second punch, before tossing a shuriken.

The shuriken hit a surprised Laslow hard in the shoulder, the Nohrian giving a cry as he stumbled and fell over from the impact. It seemed he'd forgotten they were enemies. It seemed he'd also forgotten that he'd kicked Saizo in the balls earlier. Saizo hadn't. Laslow gave him another desperate look while Saizo flipped out of the way of the Faceless' punch once again. Saizo responded with a scornful glare. They were not friends. He threw another shuriken which Laslow ducked. The Faceless that had been pursuing Saizo now turned around toward to target Laslow. Saizo feeling a smile creep underneath his mask. Better yet, Laslow was still unarmed. The arrogant Nohrian wouldn't survive this.

Still pinning a horrified Laslow with a threatening glare, Saizo approached the mountain the two of them had just fallen off of and started to scale it quickly. The Faceless briefly noticed, though seemingly felt it was better to go after Laslow than the almost escaped Saizo. The ice-laden cliff face made climbing slippery and more difficult than usual, though Saizo could still climb adeptly and quickly. He reached the top, suffering no fumbles in the process, and took one last look down at Laslow below. Smiling to himself at the Nohrian's sealed fate, Saizo left for the battle. He'd heard rumours of Lord Ryoma entering the battlefield, and he had to confirm those rumours. If they were true, then the Hoshidans' victory would be assured.

Laslow

Laslow had thought before that the worst thing to happen to him today would be dueling Prince Ryoma to the near-death. He had been wrong. Staring down a now-horde of Faceless while unarmed was worse. Much worse. Laslow pulled the shuriken embedded in his shoulder out and looked hopelessly at the approaching Faceless.

He needed his sword more than ever now. However, it seemed he'd lost it when the crazy ninja had literally tackled him off of a cliff. Gods, that had really hurt. The deep snow had done little to shave off the impact of falling about eight metres. His back still hurt after that. Though right now, he could probably ignore that in favour of the hulking monster coming towards him.

The Faceless gave a roar and punched downward, barely missing Laslow as he leapt back to dodge it. While the creature recovered, he looked around, seeing more and more Faceless becoming attracted to the fight scene. Two more were now approaching. No weapon was in sight. Laslow sidestepped another crushing blow from the Faceless, wondering how long he could keep this up. It wouldn't be long. He needed a plan before that happened.

Unfortunately, Laslow didn't have the acrobatics or climbing skill of Saizo, who'd escaped by scaling the cliff the both of them had just dropped off. Even so, Laslow wasn't about to take his chances on that thing. The frost-covered face of the cliff made it perilously slippery. Laslow wondered whether it was luck or skill that had allowed Saizo to scale it so adeptly. He backed away just out of range of another punch, wracking his brain for an idea. Finally, he decided it would be better to just run.

After ducking a swinging blow from the Faceless, Laslow sprinted. He hopped to the side to dodge a lunging blow from another roaring Faceless and fled the scene, trying to ignore the pain in his back and the growls of the Faceless now behind him. Trees were scattered around and Laslow weaved in and out between them, hoping to confuse the pursuing Faceless behind him. This plan was literally crushed when he heard the violent snap of a tree trunk behind him, shooting a glance behind him to see the Faceless had simply punched over the trees behind him. Another tree crashed to the ground, making Laslow jump as he ran. He waved away the snow that fell around him, trying to run as fast as he could without stumbling over in the deep snow. He constantly looked around for any sign of a weapon. He really hoped he'd find one before the Faceless caught up to him. A furious roar behind him served as a reminder that situation might not be far away.

The trees were gradually getting thicker and closer together. Laslow almost crashed into a particularly wide-trunked one as he sidestepped it, brushing past it with his shoulder guard. Behind the him, the roars persisted, motivating him to keep running. The roars were starting to get louder and Laslow was afraid to look over his shoulder.

Laslow suddenly felt his feet give way and he gave a cry as he stumbled and fell over. He rolled over only to see a Faceless was right on him. The Faceless grabbed his leg before he could react and pulled. Laslow found himself dragged through the snow before the Faceless powerfully threw him at a distant tree. He flew through the air at an awkward angle before colliding with the tree with his back and collapsed into the ground below, face down. Dislodged snow from above fell on him as Laslow tried to push himself up only to be confronted by the agony in his back. It was intensely painful now, probably one gigantic bruise by now. The growl of the Faceless awoke him and he reached above him, hugging the tree in an attempt to pull himself up. The growl continued and Laslow found a branch on the tree to grip, using it as a pull up with all his strength. He eyed the Faceless briefly before the branch snapped from his pressure and Laslow fell back, thankfully out of range of the Faceless' smashing fists. Laslow, still gripping the snapped branch, threw his legs backward and rolled over back, managing to stagger to his feet. As the Faceless came toward him, he looked at the sword-length branch pitifully, before deciding a joke weapon was better than no weapon.

The Faceless swung savagely with both its fists clamped together, which Laslow blocked with tree branch. Surprisingly, the tree branch didn't snap, though the force of the blow did knock Laslow back, almost sending him tumbling over. Laslow held strong though, and stepped back out the way of the Faceless' second fist slam. He deflected a brutal punch from the Faceless with the tree branch, before seeing his opening to attack. Swinging the tree branch with all of his might, he aimed for the Faceless' head.

The tree branch snapped like a twig over the Faceless' head, and it gave a furious growl. Laslow looked at the remains of the broken tree branch still in his hand and threw it away angrily, cursing. The Faceless roared and brutally punched Laslow in the stomach, sending him in the air and crashing down into the snow. Laslow landed on his back and rolled over in a vague attempt to escape the Faceless, moaning in pain. He continued to roll over, spitting blood and trying to cushion his bruised torso. The roar of the Faceless sounded in his ears once again and he reached out, trying to crawl away from the murderous beast. In the ground, he could feel the tremors of it as it came closer. He reached out with his arm, constantly rolling, praying it would find something.

There was nothing. Nothing but snow. Laslow rolled over onto his back to see the Faceless looming over him. It raised its fists and slammed down. Laslow reactively rolled over to his side and managed to shield himself from the crushing blows with his shoulder guard. He could feel the metal dent under the force of the impact. From his side lying position, he kicked the Faceless in the stomach as hard as he could muster. The Faceless gave a brief groan, and Laslow used that moment to kick off the ground to propel himself to his feet. Laslow began to run again only to sprint right into a swinging fist in his gut. He went flying once again, skidding through the snow and coming to a halt slowly. He forced himself to look up only to see a second Faceless there, and now they were both stomping toward him. Now his problems were twice as worse.

Spitting blood, Laslow couldn't find the strength to push himself to his feet and instead kicked off the ground to push himself back as quickly as he could, clutching his wounded torso. The two Faceless were still coming toward him. Their masks gave them no expression, yet Laslow was certain that the monsters behind the masks were pleased at his injured state and rearing to tear him limb from limb. The thought of that motivated Laslow to shuffle backward faster.

As he pushed himself backward, Laslow felt himself bump against a low object behind him. He instinctively turned only to see the bled-out corpse of a Nohrian swordsman, dressed in similar attire to Laslow, shoulder guard and all. At first, Laslow thought this was sign from the gods. That this would be his fate. Then he realised he was a swordsman. Laslow gave a hurried glance back at the approaching Faceless, before turning back to the corpse and rolling it over, searching for the swordsman's weapon. Some still-runny blood messed his gloved hands, though he didn't care at this moment. Underneath, he found it. The swordsman's blade. A steel sword.

Laslow grabbed the sword greedily, twisting around to see one of the Faceless right on top of him, fist poised to break his head open. Still clutching the steel sword, Laslow rolled over as the fist of the Faceless slammed into the snow where his head had been. The Faceless' head snapped to look at him and Laslow looked into the soulless, blank-faced mask of the monster, feeling his stomach lurch. He rolled over onto his back and sat up, his back complaining. The Faceless gave another roar at him, its mask visibly shaking from Laslow's view. Laslow took the sword and slashed the Faceless across the face, the creature rearing back, emitting a pained and freakish scream. Laslow then brandished the sword again, gripping the hilt with both hands, slashing the Faceless' leg. The monster gave a another scream and collapsed forward into the snow, barely missing Laslow himself. Laslow didn't hesitate, quickly planting the sword in the ground and climbing it to his feet, and then planted the sword firmly down into the collapsed Faceless' body, sinking the blade in deep. The Faceless gave a few last growling screams, before it became motionless. Laslow leaned on the sword for a few precious seconds, and then withdrew it from the Faceless' body, half the blade now coated in the Faceless' darker, unnatural blood. He looked around, before remembering there was a second Faceless. The second Faceless made its presence known by clocking Laslow with a haymaker, its shackled fisst hitting Laslow like a blunt axe, almost knocking him out. Laslow flew briefly before crashing into the snow face-first, though his sword didn't leave his grip. The roar of the Faceless alerted him, and Laslow rolled over, lightly shaking his head while his thoughts flashed and swirled in his head. Briefly, he forgot where he was. A second Faceless roar reminded him of the unfortunate truth of his situation.

Laslow weakly planted his sword once again and tried to climb it, only to get a flash of the Faceless out of the corner of his eye about to smash him with its fist. He rolled over, the Faceless barely missing him. Laslow leapt for his still-planted sword, seizing the hilt with his hand, tearing it from the ground and rolling over onto his back. The Faceless now leapt at him, ready to punch him in mid-air, its fist cocked. Laslow thrust his sword upward, the Faceless landing on the blade of the sword. The Faceless landed, just above Laslow, supported by the sword rammed through its chest, it's fist just shy of Laslow's face, before it fell away, hanging limply. The monster gave a low, guttural growl, before its face fell forward, centimetres from Laslow's own. Its face shook slightly, and a splatter of its blood shot through the holes in its mask, landing in Laslow's face. Laslow shuddered and pushed the Faceless' body away with his sword, the body slumping next to him. Laslow sat up, looking around desperately for any sign of more Faceless. There were more, though they hadn't noticed him somehow, seemingly more interested in a tree. That suited Laslow just fine.

Laslow wiped the Faceless' blood off of his face with his sleeve, slightly regretting it once he saw the stain it left on it. That wasn't going to be fun to wash out. He shook his head a bit, trying to clear his thoughts, which were still messy and blurry after the punch the second Faceless had given him. He then shot another look over to the other Faceless in the distance, still interested by the tree, before pulling his new sword from the second Faceless' body and sheathing the blade in his scabbard.

Now he needed to get out of here before the other Faceless noticed him. He wasn't about to risk going back to the cliff face that Saizo had scaled with ease. It was unlikely he'd be able to do that, even on his best day. He stood up shakily, using his sword for support, before starting to run. Laslow ran as quietly as he could, thankful for the deep snow muffling his footsteps, away from the Faceless, looking for any sign of a way out. The similarity of the trees and the snow made it nearly impossible to determine where he had and hadn't been, though his policy was generally to move away from any monstrous growls or roars. Though before long, it seemed like there was no way out. Laslow was now starting to feel the cold again. The snow was also getting thicker, pouring out of the sky and obscuring Laslow's vision in a screen of white. He tried to wave away the snow, though more was coming in. He wandered around aimlessly, unsure of where he was actually going, the intense snow even starting to muffle the growls and snarls of the Faceless.

Laslow stumbled forward, walking smack right into something. For a terrifying second, he thought he'd walked right into a Faceless, though feeling it with his hands told him it was stone. He brushed his hands over it. It was rough, jagged and misshapen, drawing in the higher it got. It went further than his hands could reach, and Laslow gazed up, trying to see the top. It didn't appear to have one, the snow blotting it out. Though if it led up to the top, hopefully back to where actual human beings were, Laslow didn't have much of a choice. It also seemed less frosty and slippery than the other cliff, as well as easier to climb.

Laslow took a frosty breath, before gripping a stand-out point of the cliff. He gripped another point and started to climb, each time brushing his hand over the cliff, trying to find another handheld while clinging for dear life into the other one. It worked for a while, even if it was strenuous. After a few minutes of this, however, it the handhelds started to lessen. And they were getting harder and harder to hold onto. One minute later and there were barely any. Laslow felt the falling snowflakes and the chilling brush against him, the temperature having also fallen. His teeth chattering, Laslow clung tightly to the handheld while reaching below with his other hand to draw his sword. Turning the blade over in his hand, he jammed it into the side of the cliff face, praying as a crack rang out. The crack stopped and Laslow used the sword as a handheld to reach the next one. He pulled the sword out, and used it as a handheld again when the next handheld also proved to be non-existent. He repeated the process of using the sword as a handheld, the cracking sound once again making him hold his breath. It stopped and he climbed up further.

Finally, after several stages of this, Laslow's hand found air and snow. His hand ran through the snow as he tried to grip it, though it eventually found ground and he gripped it tightly with his gloved hand. He held it tightly as he lifted himself up, taking his sword with him, and forced himself up over the ledge. He tumbled over the ledge, rolling over, before coming to a stop on his back, panting from the effort. He wondered how Saizo had done it with apparent ease and speed. Probably some fancy ninja trick. Laslow turned his head over to see what was in the distance.

Eyes stared back at him. Laslow nearly jumped back off the cliff, recoiling in shock and horror. The dead Hoshidan spear fighter didn't move, staring, unblinking at him. Laslow examined the body, noticing that the head was locked in the opposite direction to the way the rest of the body faced, the body's neck a twisted mess. Laslow was no stranger to horrific sights, and it reminded him of the work of the Risen Revenants. He rose to a kneeling position, still holding his sword low, as he saw the rest of the area was a similar morgue. Both Nohrian and Hoshidan soldiers lay dead, along with Faceless as well, one's body seated against a tree, a naginata jammed in its stomach. Though it was apparent to Laslow immediately that the Faceless had won this battle. For every Faceless corpse, there were about five Nohrian or Hoshidan corpses, each brutalised in death. The sight sickened Laslow, as he looked in the distance and this was all he saw, blood trails staining the snow. And from the roars he heard echoing from beyond, Laslow knew the Faceless weren't done. He needed to find Xander and Peri.

Xander

The lightning burst crackled as it contacted with the blade of Siegfried. Xander, with all his strength, forced it away by swinging Siegfried away, redirecting the lightning blast into the ground. With Ryoma in his sights, Xander focused, gripping Siegfried hard and calling on its power. He felt the blade respond with a sudden surge of energy and, from atop his mount, aimed the point of the legendary blade at his opponent. A beam of black and red energy exploded out of a space in front of him like a bolt. Ryoma must have seen it coming. The Hoshidan swordmaster dodged acrobatically with a graceful backflip, letting the beam shoot violently into the snow beneath him. He landed squatting, bringing his sword vertically across his body, and Xander knew what was coming, once again.

Mere centimetres away from him, another burst of golden lightning exploded into existence. Without time to raise Siegfried to deflect the burst, Xander turned his body so that the small lionhead shield on his swordless arm took the brunt of the burst. The burst wasn't enough to topple Xander or even move him yet he could still feel the contrasting heat of the lightning against his forearm within his armour. But now was no time to show weakness. If he did, he, and the Nohrian army, would be doomed.

Xander, admittedly, had not anticipated this level of resistance from the Hoshidans, and had never dreamed he'd cross blades with Hoshido's own high prince here. Yet, against this expectation, here he was. He'd been far back behind the Nohrian army, despite his requests to lead the army personally, and had instead assigned that duty to his retainers, Laslow and Peri. Laslow's letter explaining the situation had referred to it as a small skirmish, yet it seemed to have escalated to the point of a full-scale battle. Not ideal, and thoughts of what could have been had he been there had crept into Xander's head. He thought he'd doused the thoughts, yet they persisted.

And when he'd entered, he'd immediately allowed his emotions to act as his cause. It would have been far more advantageous to act subtly, to come closer to their commander, this 'Prince Ryoma', and ensured an instant execution. Instead, to save Laslow's life, he'd immediately fired Siegfried's beam at Ryoma and was now locked in battle with swordmaster fully on his guard, aware of his capabilities. He'd berate himself for this later.

Now, he had to focus on defeating Ryoma while also dealing with the recent threat of the Faceless. They'd come out of seemingly nowhere, roaring over the hill and savagely slaughtering anything in their path. Twice now, he'd had to fend off both Ryoma and the Faceless, though the same had also happened to the former. The snow wasn't helping either.

A roar came in Xander's ear and he wheeled around, taking his horse with him. An airborne Faceless, fist extended, mask shaking, hurled itself toward him. Xander forcefully brought the reins across his body, his horse responding by jumping in a circle to dodge the Faceless. Brandishing Siegfried, Xander stabbed the legendary sword forward, impaling the Faceless, withdrawing it quickly to block another strike of lightning from Ryoma's own blade. Xander heard the Faceless slump over, before signalling with the reins to charge. His horse galloped forward and Xander swung Siegfried across as he came past Ryoma, only for the swordmaster to flip right over the swing with ease. Xander halted his horse, turning it back to face Ryoma only to be surprised by Ryoma shooting forward, thrusting with his katana. Xander barely brought Siegfried down in time to parry the strike, before swinging powerfully again at Ryoma. Ryoma hopped backwards to dodge the swing, and slashed diagonally at Xander's horse with his katana. Luckily, the horse's armour protected it from too much injury, and it was relatively well-trained enough to not panic in most situations. Though it still gave a noticeable shudder, and Xander gave it a hurried stroke with his free arm in an attempt to calm it while blocking a second slash from Ryoma's katana. Xander summoned Siegfried's power once again and moments later a blast of energy came from in front of Xander, forcing Ryoma to dodge with another backflip. Xander immediately swung Siegfried at Ryoma, though the swordmaster easily parried the blow using his own blade. Xander prepared to attack Ryoma again, yet it was then that the unmistakable roar of a Faceless came in his ear.

Xander turned, quickly blocking the incoming Faceless' bone-crunching punch with the flat of Siegfried. He then bashed the briefly-stunned Faceless with the hilt of his sword, before powerfully beheading the Faceless with Siegfried. He focused back on Ryoma, only to see he'd encountered the same problem as him, his katana deeply buried in the heart of Faceless. The Hoshidan high prince withdrew the katana, sparing a glance at Xander, before hopping back to dodge a second Faceless that attempted a haymaker. Xander heard the growl of a Faceless and wheeled himself and his horse around to impale a Faceless through the chest with Siegfried. But there were more to come.

The Faceless had indefinitely swept the battlefield. It was obvious to anyone that there were more Faceless than human soldiers, Nohrian or Hoshidan. And they were ruthless. Xander watched helplessly as a Faceless tore off the head of a beaten lancer in gruesome fashion. Xander raised Siegfried, calling on its power, before a black and red streak came out before him and straight through the Faceless' chest. Xander fired off more beams from Siegfried, creating new holes in multiple Faceless, yet there were simply too many. It was likely that neither Nohr nor Hoshido would come out victorious in this battle. Instead, it would be the Faceless. And no one would live to tell the tale.

But as long as Xander lived, he would dispute that outcome. He blasted another hole in a Faceless, still very much alive, though something would be needed to make sure he stayed that way.

Then Xander felt it. It was faint beat, a soft hum beneath the earth, calling him, promising the power he sought. Mere metres away from him, deep beneath the earth and snow. A Dragon Vein.

As a member of the Nohrian royal family, Xander was blessed with the blood of dragons. The Dusk Dragon, to be specific, a dragon of ebony and shadow, dark yet not evil. Just like Nohr itself. It was this blood that allowed him to detect Dragon Veins, and, more importantly, activate them. By merely letting his blood connect with the Vein beneath, the earth could be terraformed, transformed by harnessing the power of one of the four elemental dragons; fire, earth, wind and water. The possibilities of this power were seemingly limitless. It could hurt. It could heal. And it could do things beyond Xander's imagination, even if he thought he'd seen it all. All he had to do was release the Dragon Vein, and the tide of battle could be turned.

But Xander wouldn't be the one to release the Dragon Vein. Ryoma, ahead of him, wore a look of recognition as Xander had worn when he himself had realised the Dragon Vein. Before Xander could move, Ryoma took his own blade, the katana that flashed with lightning, and struck the blade across his hand, cutting lightly yet enough. Then he thrust the katana, carrying the drops of blood upon its blade, into the ground. The earth rumbled. The wind howled. Snow turned to water. And fire came to life.

A huge ball of flame came from beneath the ground, liquefying the snow beneath it to expose blackened ground below. Momentarily, it simply levitated there, between Ryoma and Xander, before it exploded and dispersed. The fire rushed outward, immediately melting snow and setting the age-old trees aflame. Some of the Faceless near the ball of flame immediately melted like icicles, leaving only darkened, burnt skeletons. Xander braced himself, blocking the incoming torrent of heat and flame that come at him with his shield. It passed him and the brief burst of heat was nearly unbearable. Within seconds, the snow and ice that had once populated the White Woods was gone.

The White Woods had become the Burning Woods.

Xander looked around at the inferno that had formerly been the White Woods. It was like the Dragon Vein's power had completely reversed the area, ice becoming flame. It was unbelievable, yet Xander knew this was only the latest show of the dragons' power. What could happen next was unpredictable. The heat now struck Xander, the fire and flames around him threatening to melt him like the unlucky Faceless previously. Around him now, were almost only corpses; Faceless, Nohrian, Hoshidan. Ryoma and he had seemingly been the only survivors in this area. The Hoshidan high prince also seemed worse for the wear. He'd stripped off his long ivory coat, and the red crest he'd worn on his forehead had also been lost. Xander's eye caught the coat, which was busy charring in the background.

However, this did not mean Ryoma had been weakened. Xander could see in his eyes, the determination of a man who would not retreat or surrender, even in the face of this inferno that he unleashed. It was an admirable trait, yet Xander himself refused to surrender as well. And when two wills such as that collided, it would only be death that would stop one.