Hello there, brave readers! Today, I have for you the third and penultimate chapter of this story. It's... well, quite long compared to the rest, what with all the fighting, but all the same, I hope you enjoy it. As always, constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated, and I hope you enjoy...
The Battle Of Rosa Collis, Part 3: The Siege
"Loose!"
As Captain Marius roared those words to the catapult crews, the battle of Rosa Collis began in earnest.
"Old man! You lead the spearpoint through the gates!"
"RAHHHHH! WE'RE KILLIN' SOME MUDWALKERS TODAY!"
"REMEMBER, we're here to kill the bandits, and the Blackstones. If you hurt our allies and jeopardize our mission because of your damned paranoia, you'll be swinging from these trees."
"YE, YE, I GEDDIT, YE SORRY MUD-LOVER! COME 'WIT ME IF YA WANNA DIE WITH GLORY, YOU SORRY MONGRELS!"
The Conqueror charges for the gate, the first wave following behind.
"Ute!"
As General Tozen roared those words to the archers, the battle of Bara No Oka began in earnest.
"TOZEN-SAMA! TOZEN-SAMA!"
And up comes a raggedly panting Shinobi to the hill on which the archers were stationed.
"Juzo?! What are you doing here?!"
"I-I came as fast as I could! The Iron Legion is here!"
"Nani?! Have they come to reinforce the Blackstones?"
"N-No! No, they are our allies! They're here to destroy the Blackstones! You musn't attack them! Their commander has already spread the word to work by our side! They mean no harm!"
Tozen looks surprised for a moment, but just one.
"...Amai."
"...W-what?"
Tozen walks past the apprentice ninja.
"Anyone who intrudes upon our territory is our enemy. We will destroy them all."
"What?! ….N-no...! You can't!"
"Of course I can. I must. Everyone who enters the mire is an invader, no matter their intent. If we show mercy, we show weakness. If we are to survive our enemies, the Dawn Empire must. Not. Be. Weak. I will not ally myself with filthy nanban."
"But-!"
Tozen barks at the novice ninja without turning, cutting him off.
"That is final! Do I make myself clear?!"
Several seconds of silence. And, then from behind, the legendary Samurai leader heard a thump.
"Jozu...?"
"TOZEN-SAMA!"
Whirling around, Tozen sees Jozu, on his hands and knees, face to the muddy earth, bowing as low as he could possibly go. Was he crying?
"FORGIVE MY IMPERTINENCE, BUT PLEASE, RECONSIDER!"
"This emotion...! What's come over you?! Never have you felt such passion for foreign invaders before!"
"THEY TREATED ME WITH KINDNESS, SIR! THEY TRUSTED ME TO DELIVER THEIR MESSAGE, AND TRUSTED US TO WORK ALONGSIDE THEM FOR OUR MUTUAL BENEFIT! PLEASE, DO NOT MAKE ME BETRAY THEM!"
In truth, only one of them had treated him with any resembling kindness. But he could not reconcile his honor as a samurai, or, indeed, as a man, with such a cowardly and underhanded act as attacking men who thought them to be allies. Perhaps he fought from the shadows, with subterfuge and deceit, but he would never stoop so low as two-faced betrayal.
"IF CONSORTING WITH FOREIGNERS WOULD BRING YOU DISHONOR AMONG YOUR PEERS, I WOULD GLADLY TAKE THAT SHAME ON MYSELF, AND GIVE MY LIFE TO CLEAR YOUR NAME!"
"ENOUGH! STAND UP, JOZU! You embarrass yourself, begging so thoughtlessly."
Rising up sheepishly, Jozu bows deeply, front covered in muck.
"….O-of course, sir. B-but, please-!"
"I said enough!"
Jozu stays bowed low, silent, teeth grit.
"…Aiyah, the passion of youth!"
"H-huh?"
"I may regret this. Iron Legion, you said? They bear green and yellow standards, am I correct?"
"….! ...T-tozen-sama...!"
"Silence. Head to the mouth of the escape tunnel and wait for my men. Tell them the Iron Legion are our allies, and to attack them is a crime same as treason. Take this edict, so they know the orders to be mine."
"TOZEN-SAM-!"
"-Si! Lence!"
"Nanban! Behind you!"
Ducking over, the Peacekeeper ducks under the clumsy thrust of the bandit charging her from behind, and, unable to still his momentum, he trips right over her bent form. Taking her shortsword in two hands, she drives the blade through his chest.
"I knew that."
"Yes, obviously."
Bracing the blunt end of her naginata in the ground, she kicks her own opponent across the face, and, lunging forward, thrusts the razor-sharp tip of the Chosen polearm into the hapless bandit's neck.
"Sonata ni shi wo!"
"Good form!"
"Of course."
They stood at the base of the fortress's central tower, right outside the main entrance to the structure, surrounded by hardened criminals.
"Hmph. Nothing more than dogs with swords."
"Keep on your toes. You saw them practicing in the courtyard, same as I did."
Three more charge. Catching the blade of one with her sword's own crossguard, she shanks the offending brigand twice in between the ribs with her dagger. Then, lunging around to his side, she jumps and dropkicks the bandit with both feet into the thrusting tip of his partners katana. Quickly rising to her feet, she sprints forward, tucks her legs under her, and rolled in between the two bandit's spread legs. Stabbing the second one in the back, the third swings his katana hard at her own unprotected behind, but she lays the blade of her sword along her spine, blocking the blow without looking. Whirling around, she flips her dagger into a reverse grip and slashes the last one's throat. Shinobu, cleaving through one of her own opponents, looks back at the Peacekeeper, surprised that any of the usually clumsy western soldiers could be so agile.
"...Good form."
The peacekeeper twirls her blades as yet more enemies approach.
"Of course!"
"Oh?"
Makoto looks around as the ground shakes, hand frozen holding an ume-boshi in front of his mouth.
Rising to his feet, he slides one of the paper shōji open.
The central tower was aflame, a massive crater in one side from a catapult strike.
"Oh."
Standing up as well, Apollyon strides away from the lavish, untouched japanese breakfast that the jubilant warlord had laid out for her. Leaning against the wall, was her longsword. Strapping it to her hip silently, she turns to her host.
"Seems that I am not your only visitor today, Koga."
"So much for breakfast. Gehehehe..."
Slinging the colossal pillar of metal he uses as a weapon up on his shoulder, he grins, using his other hand to take the oni mask strapped to his waist sash -iron painted blood red- and place it onto his face.
"No matter. This'll sate a different hunger."
"What do you mean they won't go through?!"
"I MEAN THAT THE FIRST BLOKES THROUGH GOT CUT DOWN BY BLOODY ARCHERS, YE 'ALFWIT!"
"We MUST get through! Didn't we plant bombs on their arrow stores?"
"They still got wot was in their quivers, boy! 'sides, we 'ave no way 'a knowin' whether that sneaky bitch even got that far!"
"Well, motivate them! That 'die with glory, ye mangy dogs' thing seemed pretty effective!"
"Yeah! BEFORE the battle! Once we actually start dyin', glory don't matter too much!"
"Damn it! She's in there! She needs help!"
"You're the leader, boy! Start leadin'!"
" 'START LEADIN'?!' They're not ants or chess pieces, I can't just move them around! Rrgh!"
Captain Marius thought back to what she taught him. They don't want to charge. How would she get them to go?...
The four sat around a campfire, several days before now.
"Of course I know large-scale tactics! You think they'd throw me into my first command position without anything? All I'm... well, iffy on, is communication. Turning those stratagems into reality. It's not exactly chess, where the pieces obey your beck and call and only exist to serve their purpose, is it? Getting people, real people, to put their lives on the line... Well, all the grand master had to say about that was 'apply corporal punishment liberally'."
"Hardly unsurprising. The lawbringers are infamous for their bouts of needless cruelty."
"What?!"
The other three were silent, looking at him, confused.
"...Surely you knew their reputation before you started your training, sir?
"They're more executioner 'n judge! And jury?! Pah!"
"Come to think of it, you're unalike any lawbringer I've yet met. Compassionate, noble, and friendly with your subordinates. Of course, it took some elbow grease on my part, but most lawbringers are like mules, with how stubborn they are. Why DID you join? You'd suit the wardens much better, I should think?"
"Why? Well that's... That's. Uh..."
He looks down at the ground, reminiscing about something.
"...Private. It's private."
"What? Surely, after all these days together, you could at least confide in us that, sir!"
"I... w-well, it's embarrassing. Let's say that."
"Come on. You know you want to. You're much fonder of me than you'd like to admit, dear, and we both know it."
He grumbles for a moment, barely audible through his visor, and then he throws his hands up in the air.
"Fine! Lord's sake!"
"Delightful! Now, do tell."
Letting his arms drop with a loud clang, he sighs.
"Well... As the lot of you know, I am quite young. I grew this bulk plowing, not warring. My father died when I was a boy, leaving me with my mother and two younger sisters."
"We asked 'ow ye turned inta tha tinman, ye lil git, not fer ya life story!"
"I'M GETTING TO IT! I'm getting to it! We grew up on the frontier. We sat on the very outskirts of Ashfeld."
"A dangerous place."
"Guh, don't I know it. Anyway, up until a few years ago, I was helping my family on the farm, as always. But the winter freeze must have hit valkenheim even harder than normal. The northeners launched a raid to the south. We missed the bulk, but not all of them. Not even a warband, really, just a dozen warriors coming down from the northeast, stragglers from a larger raid that got lost, I suspect. But... we were in the middle of nowhere."
"Oh, no. This isn't going where I think it's going, is it sir?"
"ALL OF YOU SHUT UP, OR I'M NOT TELLING THE STORY."
"SIR YES SIR!"
"Oh, fine."
"Eh, geddon with it."
"THANK THE LORD. ...Anyway, they came onto our farm, bearing torches. We hid in the main house, until they started slaughtering our animals. I... I couldn't bear it. Taking our livelihood like it was their right. I took up our splitting axe, and charged them. The one I went for, a twitchy fellow with two hatchets, just jumped around to my side and hit me on top of the head with them. When I came too, I was in bed, a man in golden armor tending to my wounds, my sisters looking on with tears in their eyes, unsure whether I would live. By the time I regained my faculties, he was gone. A lawbringer. A TRUE lawbringer, that earnestly fought for justice on the edge of civilization. He knew enough about medicine to save my life, too. Mind you, I had to relearn my numbers and had a stutter for months, but I survived an axe wound to the skull. A wandering hero, who can save people beyond the light of civilization, punish the wicked who to so many are beyond reproach... I realized that... that was what I wanted to be. And, if my service could see my family housed somewhere safer, all the better. I traveled for Beaufort stronghold for some time, teaching myself swordplay. When I arrived, I registered myself in the annual tourney, and, happy to say, that caught the order's attention, especially when I announced my intent to join on the winners stand."
"And... your family, sir?"
"They live in the heartland. A small but comfortable estate has been afforded to them by the Grand Master of the order for my outstanding performance in training. The most dangerous thing they have to contend with now is the upturned noses of the aristocrats that still think of them as commoners. A knight's family is treated well, especially a lawbringers."
His face was hidden, as is standard, behind his visor, but just with how he was sitting it was easy to tell that he was beaming.
"That's... good, Marius. Very good."
He doesn't respond for some time. Finally, straightening up, and clearing his throat, Captain Marius assumes his stuffy persona once more.
"That is, once again, CAPTAIN Marius."
"Oh, yes. Captain Marius. That reminds me!"
"Y-yes?"
"Our CAPTAIN was asking how to order his underlings around, wasn't he?"
"Why do you always have to make it sound insulting?"
"Because it's so very, very fun. As for your question, you have to realize that most of these men are rather more experienced than you when it comes to battle. Tell them to do something, and if they think it's wise, they'll do it. But if you know a course to be right, but your soldiers disagree, whether it be fear, or their pride telling them they know better than their 'inexperienced' commander..."
"Yes?"
"...Well, think of it like this. A good leader isn't someone that a person fears disobeying. A good leader is someone so trusted, so respected by those he leads, that they fear losing his respect. A good leader is the highest ideal of his soldiers, so to go against him is to go against yourself. Be a hero to them, something they can rally behind. Something they want to see in themselves. Harken to your own past, my dear. Be that golden knight, Marius, and they'll follow in your steps, just like you did."
"...Fine then!"
His gaze sweeps over the soldiers around him, clustered at the mouth of the fortress.
"You don't want to lead the charge?!"
He turns to the gate. It was a massive thing, and in front of it stood an open pathway, flanked on both sides by high stone walls for the archers to fire down from. The bodies of the first wave lay there, flaming arrows still smoldering in their flesh, and beyond them laid a row of spiked pavise, behind which the bandit's first defensive line lay. The Conqueror was the only survivor of the spearpoint, and he suspected that that was because he ran slower than his compeers.
"THEN I WILL! TO GLORY!"
Leveling his halberd, he charges through the two great wooden gates, to meet a hail of burning arrows. Most of them shattered harmlessly against his armor, a secret of his order, but one wormed it's way through. Sliding between two metal slats in his visor, the arrow punched straight through his helmet, burning tip sticking out the back.
And yet... He could see the shaft, in the far left edge of his vision. He was still alive. He could feel the lacquered wood pressing against his now bleeding cheek. Even a centimeter more to the right, and he would be dead. He could hear the Conqueror shouting behind him.
"Goddamn! Blessed by Christ, 'e is!"
Several seconds of utter silence from behind. And then, with a roar, the second wave charged behind him, following their seemingly immortal commander into battle.
As the last of the bandits around the central tower collapsed, Shinobu turned to the battle raging at the gate. From this high vantage point, she could see a man clad in black iron plate smashing through the pavise walls of the bandit's front line like they were made of thin glass, tearing through the enemies in front of him as if possessed, even with a flaming arrow lodged in his head. Looks like the Iron Legion had that front covered. And soon, Tozen's forces would be erupting up through the basement of this tower to join the attack.
"Nanban. Jozu has not returned. I will meet with my master's forces and tell them of our alliance. You should do the same with yours. This cannot become a three-way battle. It would be a massacre."
"Yes, that would be a poor way to end our first meeting, wouldn't it? Afterwards, head to the guest house in the southwest section."
"Where Makoto and the nanban-dono were meeting?"
"Saw that, did you? Yes, if we're lucky, we can take both of them out in one fell swoop."
"Very well. Just... save Makoto for me. He... took something very precious from me. It will be I who brings him to justice."
"Huh?"
The peacekeeper turned around to look at her, but she was already gone.
"DEATH TO THE ENEMY!"
Roaring these words, Captain Marius swung his colossal polearm down hammer-first, reducing the nearest bandit's head to red slurry. Tearing the weapon from his slain foe, he swings it around himself in a wide arc, a whirlwind of metal.
"Make way or die!"
Knocking the lesser men who surrounded him on all sides away like so many bowling pins, Marius roared, sending those of his opponents that were not dead scrambling to escape him.
Except one. A captain among them, it seemed, from the finer armor and the great Odachi he held in his hands. They didn't speak each other's tongues, but they didn't need too. Pointing at Marius, the sword-saint speaks.
"Jinjô ni shobu!"
Pouncing like a tiger, the Kensei's long blade met with Ashfeldian steel.
"Jozu?! You're alive!"
"Shinobu-sensei!"
In the basement of the central tower, Jozu rushed to embrace his master, only to meet a knifehand strike to the top of the head.
"Fool! You were only supposed to get the explosives! What in the world delayed you so?!"
"Well, sensei, I-"
Suddenly he stands straight up.
"Oh, y-yes! I need to tell you something! The Iron Legion is attacking this fort as well! General Tozen has decided to ally with them!"
"Huh?! How do you know that?"
"...H-how do I know that?! How do you know that?!"
"I've struck an accord with the Peacekeeper they sent to infiltrate this place. She took your place, actually."
"The western jonin! Of course!"
"What?! You know about her, too?"
"Well, if we're being honest, I may have been... Um, briefly captured. On my way to get the bakudan."
"What?! So they know about us, too?!"
"It was their commander that first suggested the alliance!"
"So, the Peacekeeper doesn't need to warn her leader, after all?"
"No, sensei! The rest of our forces are just behind. You know me, I run fast. With the Legion assault, we will surely surprise them."
"...Very well th-"
Suddenly, Jozu's eyes grew wide.
"SENSEI!"
Jozu bowls into her, sending them both crashing down. Above her, a western soldier flies, impacting the stone wall hard enough to send spiderwebs of cracks along the whole stone surface.
"Hah... Weak... Gehehe! Much too weak! Give me something tougher...! After all..."
Holding the massive Kanabo that was his signature weapon above his head, Makoto brought it down with a crack that could rival thunder, punching a hole in the solid stone floor.
"...Soft meat hardly needs to be tenderized, doesn't it?!"
Hooking the Odachi's blade with his poleaxe's bearded blade mid swing, he slams the butt of the long iron pole into the Kensei's face, stunning him. Turning the polearm in his hands, he runs his opponent through with the spearpoint, and, lifting him high, slams him back down into the cobbles.
"I see that you're enjoying yourself, Captain."
"Huh?!"
Whirling around, the captain levels his weapon at the Peacekeeper, her hands raised.
"Calm, Marius."
"O-oh! It's you. Don't shock me like that, I could've killed you!"
"Normally, I'd say something to the tune of 'oh, could you?', but right now, there are more pressing matters."
"Y-yes?"
"We aren't the only army trying to invade Rosa Collis, captain."
"Oh, so you've met this 'Shinobu'?"
Silence.
"Wh... what?!"
"We captured a ninja by the name of Jozu. Our Warden translated to us everything you mean to tell us, I suspect. He's supposed to arrange an alliance for us. Time will tell if he's held his end of the agreement."
"Oh, so that's what happened to him? Shinobu-chan's been worried sick."
"Ch-chan?"
"Oh, sorry. I've been speaking Japanese much too long. W-where's the rest of the team, as it were?"
"The old man is clearing the walls of archers, and the warden went to help clear the southwest quarter of the compound."
"Good. One more thing."
"Yes, sister?"
"Why is there a flaming arrow through your head? I'd have mentioned it earlier, but you seem fine with it."
"Ah, yes. It just punched through my helmet, it missed my head by a little bit. I'd take it out, but I think the soldiers find it inspiring."
"Oh, good, I-"
She freezed mid syllable, mouth and body going utterly still.
"S-sister?"
Suddenly, she grabs him by the shoulders and shakes him, voice desperate.
"DID YOU SAY 'SOUTHWEST'?"
"Incumbui!"
Holding her blade in a halfsword stance, she catches the blade of her attacker with the area of the blade between the crossguard and her hand at the middlepoint of the blade, and leverages the latter end of the blade down, combining parry and counterstrike into one crushing blow, felling her opponent. She was standing inside what seemed to be some kind of small house. At her feet lay a small, square table with two plates of delicious looking, if exotic, food, one mostly devoured and the other utterly untouched. Touching the feast with one finger, she could feel the heat through her gauntlet. It was still warm.
She and the rest of the soldiers had come across the Blackstones. They were a whole different breed from the bandits. Every strike was well launched and with purpose. Not even the Iron Legion trained their regular infantry this well. Why would they send such skilled soldiers on this expedition? She thought this was just a meet-up, a diplomatic mission of sorts. Then, she heard a scream from outside.
"Is this the best the Iron Legion has?"
She turns towards the far wall. It was a thin thing, made of paper. The rain had started to grow worse. Thunder flashed outside, revealing the shape of a man, slowly backing towards the partially translucent wall.
"No... N-no! Spare me!"
"Fight..."
As she watched, the soldier backed up closer, shadow growing larger, until he was pressed against the thick paper.
"Or die."
Suddenly, the last half of an Ashfeldian longsword punched through the owner of the shadow and the paper wall both, drenched in blood. A fresh stream of the deep red stuff of life poured out from the opening, and with one last scream, the shadow grew still.
That's why. They were the honor guard, their leader's personal escort.
As the blade withdrew, the dead man slumped to the base of the paper wall. She was no coward. She had fought skilled opponents before. But something about that woman's voice, the sheer heartlessness of her actions and her words... bade her hold her breath and lie still, trying desperately to avoid the cold-blooded killer on the other side.
Five heartbeats, but to her it seemed an eternity.
"...Hmm. Trying to hide, are you? Aren't you supposed to be valiant?"
With one stroke, Apollyon slashed the shōji wide open, and the lifeless corpse of her latest prey flopped onto the floor. Stepping over the slaughtered man-at-arms, she holds the blade in a one-handed, loose grip, blood running liberally off the blade to the wooden planks underfoot.
"Aren't Wardens supposed to slay the wicked? To be heroes? To fight for 'peace'? You don't seem like a hero to me, or a fighter. Just a scared little girl. You stand there, hardly daring to breathe, hoping so desperately that death simply... passes you by."
The Warden attempts a desperate swipe at the slowly advancing warlord. She merely grabs the blade as it flies, ripping it from her grip, clawlike gauntlets preserving her hand from harm. Raising her sword with the other, she slams her blade's spiraling metal pommel into her faceplate hard enough to force her to her knees.
"You stand there, meekly lashing at your predator! Fear. You're afraid. Death comes for us all. A warrior is someone who does what they must in the face of it."
Placing the point of that great, dark blade to her throat, Apollyon shakes her head.
"You're no warrior. Just... a sheep, waiting for the slaughter."
The warden was afraid. But, she felt something else, a gnawing pit, that burned even deeper in her heart. Her eyes weren't looking at the blade that was about to kill her.
They were looking into that dead man's own.
That's what that gnashing heat in her chest was, melting away the icicle this demon had lodged in it.
Anger. It was anger.
Grabbing the sword just as Apollyon pushed forward, the Warden wrenched the blade to the side, sending it into the wall behind her. With her other hand, she made a fist, and lunging forward, punched Apollyon in the face. Fueled by boiling rage, the blow was enough to send them both tumbling to the ground without their weapons.
"Who do you think you are?!"
"Jozu."
"Yes, Sensei?!"
The two stood face to face with the Oni-shiseiji Koga Makoto. His colossal body was sheathed in plates upon plates of thick, strong mire wood, painted in a ghoulish, bloody shade of red, and his face was concealed by a grotesque imitation of an Oni's own visage, forged in iron and colored the same. Propped up on his shoulder was the Makoto no Jisei, a great mass of black iron studded with golden spikes- though much of neither could be seen under the grotesque pinks and reds of blood and pulped flesh.
"Go. Now."
"What?! You don't seriously expect me to abandon you?!"
"The western jonin needs help. She requested that I head to the guest house of the southwest quarter of this place once I am done here. One of us needs to go, and the other stay in this place and fight him. You will not survive him alone. I will. Now go. All I need to do is hold him off till the rest of our forces arrive. You can trust your master to do at least that much?"
"Heh. Go, little rabbit. I'll let ya."
"Huh?!"
Whirling to face the monster before them, Jozu snarls at the manslayer.
"Shut up, you bastard!"
"I SAID GO!"
His voice shifted instantly, switching unnaturaly from deep cheer to a frothing roar, and just as quickly back.
"This little neko-tan seems much more fun to play with than a puny bunny like you."
"Kh-! ...He's crazy! Sensei-!"
"This is my fight. Please, just grant me this, Juzo."
He stands still, indecisive, for several seconds.
"...Please, just wait for Tozen-sama's forces to come and help."
Sparing one last look at his master, the Shinobi slowly heads for the door. He hesitates before reaching the bloodstained warlord's place in between the two large wooden doors.
"Don't worry. I'LL KILL YOU LATER."
Keeping as much distance between himself and Makoto as possible, Juzo squeezes out the door, and immediately sets into a sprint for the southwest quarter.
"…"
"Heh. There's hate in you... Gehehe! I wanna see you bleed! That serious look pisses me off!"
"Not here."
"...Huh?"
The dojo, to our southeast. It is untouched by the siege. We fight there.
"What? Ya want me all to yourself?! Gahahaha, that's too much!"
Suddenly, the Nobushi snaps.
"SHUT UP!"
Silenced for just a moment, Makoto lets the tip of the Jisei drop to the ground, sending some of the viscera coiled around sloughing off.
"Yeah... that rage's what I wanna see... I don't even remember you, but, all that hate in you, I know you want revenge. That nasty kind of hate, that rots your mind and becomes your whole reason for living... I'm so excited! This'll be one hell of a fight!"
Unphased by the warlord's grotesque countenance, the Nobushi begins striding forward.
"...Your death is wholly mine. I will let no one else lay claim to even a drop of your filthy blood."
Removing her mask, she smiles. A cold, vindictive smile, like a viper baring it's fangs before striking. Passing by him, Shinobu speaks with a calm fury as she heads for the dojo.
"You know our destination. Your journey's end awaits you."
"You soulless caitiff...!"
Standing up, the warden locks eyes with her opponent.
"I'll kill you!"
"Ahhh... That's much better."
Slowly rising to her feet and rubbing her jaw, Apollyon chuckles softly.
"I felt that through my helmet. Is your hand alright?"
"Don't mock me, damn you!"
Rushing forward, fist cocked back, the warden launches a haymaker. Apollyon blocks the blow with her forearm, and throws a jab at the mesh of chainmail between the warden's helmet and her breastplate that covered her throat. Watching her inexperienced, but undeniably gifted opponent stumble back gagging, Apollyon nods calmly, as if they were holding a conversation across the short little table in the center of the room rather than in the middle of a fistfight.
"Of course, my apologies. So... there's a fire in you after all. That will to survive... it's what makes us who we are."
Still panting after the blow to the throat, the warden spits back at her.
"I-I... I don't care if I die or not! All I care about... is stopping the senseless bloodshed that you and your kind trade in!"
"Oh, yes. How convenient it is, that you have to live to make that happen. And why do you want to stop me, stop this? Because it's 'right'? Because what I'm doing is 'wrong'? You do what you do for just one reason, the same reason anyone does anything!"
Picking up both their swords, Apollyon points her own at the warden for emphasis.
"It makes you feel good! The only reason anyone fights for 'good', or 'evil', or for anything at all, is because not doing so would cause you discomfort. It would make you feel 'guilty'. Just like a lack of food makes you 'hungry', or lack of water makes you 'thirsty'. It's scratching an itch, satisfying your base urges, nothing more. Why don't you realize that? You doing what you desire is no more 'just' than me doing what I want."
Apollyon looks like she's about to go on, but stops herself.
"...But I think the both of us have tired of sitting around talking. So..."
Tossing the Warden her blade, Apollyon readies her own.
"...Let's try this again."
"Come on!"
Charging, the Warden puts all her force into a stab aimed for the weak spot in her armor at the waist, where flexibility is most important.
"I'll bring you to justice!"
Apollyon just steps to the side, putting a hand on her back and pushing as she moves past her, turning a controlled lunge into a breakneck stumble to keep her feet which sends her right through the shōji out into a rain-soaked courtyard, littered with the bodies of Iron Legion soldiers. Finally regaining her footing, she whirls around to see Apollyon stepping through the hole she made.
"Ah, a much better locale for a duel between two warriors! Wouldn't want to trip over breakfast, would we?"
"Foul creature...!"
Charging once more, she locks blades with the Blackstone warlord.
"You're well trained, if a bit clumsy. You've got good instincts, too. And your smart enough to go for my armor's weak points. You'd make a fine wolf, if only you weren't so self-righteous."
"Who are you calling self-righteous?! Preaching to me about your insane philosophy like some twisted priest!"
Forcing both their blades up above their heads, she rears her head back and headbutts Apollyon, hard enough to send them both stumbling back a bit.
"...Forgive me, a poor choice of words. We both have our beliefs, and stick by them. What I mean is that you could stand to be a bit more... down to earth. Talking about 'justice' and 'senseless bloodshed'. We're animals! We bleed and eat and sleep and die just like them. What makes us different? Some invisible man thinks we're better than everything else? No! So, what makes us different, really? Nothing, save that we have the sense of self to decide the role we take in life! Predator, or prey! That's all life is!"
Raising her sword over her head, Apollyon strikes down. Leaning back to avoid the blow, the Warden puts a foot on her blade to stop her from defending herself as she prepares her own slash. Letting go of her sword with one hand, she grabs the ankle of the offending foot and pulls up with all her strength, sending the warden onto her back. The warden leans into her fall instead of trying to fight it- a technique she learned from Milady- and tucks into a backwards roll right back onto her feet.
"The weak have no right to live in a world like this. And the strong have no obligation to their lessers. Someone taught that to me, a long time ago. A lawbringer, like the man who leads you."
"H-huh?..."
"What pitiful creatures, the warriors of that order. They master themselves, body and mind, and for what? For the mewling plebians that don't even have the strength to survive! But... he knew better. He saw my people, scrabbling in the dirt, and he knew that we did not deserve to be saved. When the raiders of the north came and razed our homes... the sheep fell. And the wolves rose. That man... set me free."
Taking a halfsword stance, the warden rushes forward and stabs. Leaning to the side of the razor-sharp point, Apollyon drives her shoulder into the warden's and tackles her, pushing her back.
"I'm tired of hearing you spout philosophy!"
"I want you to understand. To know what I know. I want someone to understand it like I do."
"Is that why you're here?! Makoto's like you, isn't he?! Insane!"
"Hmph. Makoto's just a tool. He doesn't believe in anything, really. He just wants an excuse to kill. I'll gladly give it to him, but he's hardly what I'd call an intrepid mind."
"And how is he any different than you?!"
" He doesn't care if life has a meaning or not. He's content to live as he desires, but I can't help but... pity you."
Raising her sword into the air with one hand as if she was preparing an overhead strike, Apollyon instead throws an uppercut with her offhand, using the opening to bring the full weight of her blade pommel first on top of her head, sending the warden off her feet. Putting one foot on her breastplate, Apollyon pins her down, and places the edge of her blade on the younger woman's throat.
"You... you fools, lulled into some false belief that you're the most important thing in this world, that your efforts are somehow contributing to some invisible 'Cause', need to be taught the truth. You're wasting your lives. And I am going to teach you. Free you. To live the short few years we have before oblivion to their fullest. To let go of your useless fixations. This world is cruel. It cares for us no more than the rest of the beasts that trod it's broken surface. But if you're strong enough..."
Pressing down just slightly more, worming the tip of her longsword between the links of chain covering her neck, until cold metal hovered just on top of warm flesh.
"You can rise. And survive, in the face of it."
Struggling underneath the metal clad boot, the young warden curses.
"Dammit! Damn you! I won't... let you win!"
"Let? You won't let me? You hardly have a choice."
Raising her sword high in the air, blade still turned downward, Apollyon prepares to stab down.
"The strong will always decide the fates of the weak. You do not have the right to choose."
"覚悟!"
A Kama, linked to a long iron chain, hooks around Apollyon's arm, pulling her off the pinned Warden.
"Ghhh...Can we get to killin' now?"
"Tch. You don't even have the decency to ask my grievances. What a wretched creature you are, whose only pleasures are blood and suffering!"
Turning around to face her blood-soaked opponent, Shinobu levels her naginata at him with one hand. They stood in the center of a great dojo, a long balcony on the southern side, and pillars along all the walls to hold the whole building up.
"Uh-uh. I don't really care too much about suffering. If my Jisei kills 'em quick, I don't mind all that much. I just wanna crush people and live life to the fullest, that's all. People that think the world owes 'em something... Or people that get in my way... they're dogs, that need to be put down. They get me pissed. But people like you... holier-than-thou bastards who care about bullshit like 'good' and 'evil', 'n think I should too... you guys really set my blood going!"
Raising one foot into the air, the slams it down to his side, and repeats the action with the other. Then, he throws his hands open wide in a sumo stance, laughing jubilantly.
"It's a real treat, crushing people who think they're heroes!"
"If you're so eager to kill me, then approach... Koga Makoto!"
"That's..."
Muscles coiling, Makoto burst forward, faster than anyone his size ought to move, the Jisei held across his chest as if he were a human battering ram.
"ALL YOU HAD TA SAY!"
Throwing herself to the side in a roll, Shinobu just barely avoided the charge of the oni-shiseiji. Watching him stumble from his own momentum, she pounces, raising her polearm above her head to slash across his back.
"Amai!"
Looking over his shoulder and laying the colossal iron rod in his hands across his back to stop the blow, he swings around, sending the nobushi flying back with a backhand across the face. Landing flat on her back, Shinobu rolls to the side, out of the way of the crushing weight of the Jisei as Makoto brings it down with all his strength, shattering the wooden floor into splinters.
Rolling into a crouch, Shinobu stabs for the demon's belly.
"I, Satō Shinobu, will be the one who defeats you!"
Swiping her weapon to the side, he slams his own down like a gory meteor. Dodging to the right, she follows up with an overhead strike, and as he blocks the blade with his club, she swings the blunt end of the naginata up in an uppercut like a staff, striking him on the chin. Stumbling back and loosening his mask for a moment, he spits out a bloody tooth and tightens it once more.
"...Satō? I haven't killed anyone called Satō in a while. You sure you got the right guy?"
"It was not your hands that killed him, but your actions! Even you do not know the full extent of the misery you cause!"
"Him? Brother? Father? I wonder what your story is. People always think they're so special!"
Opening his arms wide, he charges, performing the signature move of the order he betrayed, the crushing embrace of the guardian oni. Terribly powerful, but easily dodged by the skilled. Jumping to the side, she slashes him across the back, splitting the wooden plates and tracing a thin line of red across it. But the warlord was unphased, will and skin hardened like iron by a lifetime of bloody conflict. The pain spurring him on, roaring laughter rips from his imposing form.
"Weak! Too weak! GIVE ME MORE! I'LL TAKE IT ALL!"
"行くぞ, 南蛮どの!"
Juzo stood some distance away, on the other side of the small courtyard, twirling one Kusarigama- a kama linked to a heavy weight by chain- around one arm, his other hand holding a bundle of shuriken, one of the finely sharpened throwing stars tucked between each finger.
Apollyon looks back at her other opponent, noting the lack of utter shock.
"You recognize him. So, I'm not the only knight in Ashfeld with a foreign alliance on my hands."
"おまえ の 相 !"
"Oh?"
She casually points her sword at the warden.
"So you think she'll just sit by?"
" 何? す-すみません、英語がわかりません."
He looks terribly confused. Forgetting where she was for a moment, the warden helpfully translates into latin.
"She says that I won't just sit by!"
"え？なるほど!"
Apollyon puts her head in one hand, shaking it annoyedly.
"Can we fight now?"
"O-oh, yes! Have at you!"
Switching to latin, the warden shouts at Jozu.
"Attack from both sides!"
"はい! かかって こい!"
'Out of my way, damn you. I don't have time to kill you all.'
The peacekeeper sprinted through the battle raging around her. Shinobu's allies had arrived. Working alongside Marius' contingent, the fortress would be quickly taken. As she flew through the enemy lines, most of the bandits were too concerned with their own opponents to try and apprehend her. Those few that did were killed without slowing her step. It was only a few years ago, barely a sliver in her long lifetime of war, but ever since that day, it had been everything to her. Apollyon. The scar on her back, long and ragged, throbbed and burned as her mind went back to that day. The blood and the smoke. That hideous cold in her eyes. She refused to lose another soldier to her. Never again. Even if it meant finally ending this long journey, she would always be running towards that black-cloaked devilspawn. She was tired of fighting, anyway.
This time, she could save someone.
Snatching the chain out of the air, she pulls hard and steps to the side, letting Jozu stumble into his partner, sending them both off balance. Taking her sword in hand, she swings for their hips, blade sharp and heavy enough to split the two of them clean in half should it connect. The warden throws them both to the ground, but Apollyon readies another strike, sword raised above her head. Both of them rolling as one, they narrowly avoid the blow. Throwing a shuriken to hold her back, Jozu quickly rises to his feet. Apollyon lunges forward with another overhead strike. Jozu doesn't move to dodge, instead holding his hands out to his sides. The warden screams at him in latin.
"Jozu! What are you doing?!"
As the sword descend, fit to cleave him from scalp to groin, time seems to slow. The ninja starts to bring his hands together, as if clapping, onto each side of the blade. Eyes wide, Jozu shouts the name of the technique, a risky, but powerful maneuver taught to only the quickest of ninpo practitioners.
"真剣白刃取り!"
Hands colliding, his palms stop the sword in it's tracks.
'What?! He's wearing silk gloves, how could he-?!'
Then Apollyon sees. On his palms were two flat iron plates, each two inches long and less than a fifth as wide, studded with curved claws like a cat.
'Climbing claws! His gloves have climbing claws! He captured my blade between them? How could anyone be so fast?!'
"当身!"
Bringing his knee up into Apollyon's liver, he rips the long blade from her grip.
"Merci, Jozu!"
Hands gripping her own blade by the, well, blade, she cocks her sword back like a bat. She has her own 'special technique'; Mordhau, or the Murder-stroke, using the crossguard to penetrate an enemy's armor. One strike, across the knee, then an overhead blow on top of the head, and finally an uppercut golf swing, wrenching her visor open and sending her flying back onto the ground. Jumping upon her, the warden straddles her torso, legs pinning Apollyon's arms to her sides. Looking into the opened helmet, the warden grits her teeth, eyes filled with righteous fury.
"So that's what true evil looks like...!"
Raising her sword high in the air, the warden roars.
"This is the end, Apollyon! Atone for your sins in the next world!"
A cry of fury rising from her chest, the Warden thrust down, into the mad knight's open visor.
…
…
"What...?"
Speaking in latin, Jozu nervously looks at the two swordsmen on the ground, unable to see the gory work of the warden from behind her. But, from the shock in her voice, something was wrong.
"L-lady knight! What is it?!"
"Y-you...!"
Apollyon was still alive, holding the tip of her sword between bloody, cracking teeth, even as the warden put all her strength and weight into the downward thrust. In her eyes, the warden saw... something. Utter, animal madness. For just one moment, that icicle was back.
That was all Apollyon needed. Drawing her boot dagger with one restrained hand, she struggles the armed arm out from under her, and plants it in the warden's shoulder.
"Gh!-"
"南蛮さん!"
Using the moment of shock to throw the warden off her, Apollyon rises to her feet. Jozu charges, sliding on the rain-soaked stone to trip her up once more, but she sidesteps the attack. Rolling to his feet, he spins on one foot and performs a roundhouse kick, but Apollyon ducks it and, as he recovers his balance from the whiffed, acrobatic maneuver, she brings one metal-clad fist into his solar plexus, hard enough to make him collapse to his knees. From a blood-soaked mouth and a dented helmet of skeletal black metal, she speaks.
"You're... skilled. The both of you. Some of the finest warriors of your people I've met. But... you're not strong enough."
"We're... not done yet!"
Dagger still lodged in her pauldron, the warden charges. Calmly moving to the side, Apollyon hooks her sword with one foot and kicks it up into her hands, slashing the wounded knight as she passed across the stomach.
"Ah-!"
She collapses to the ground, one hand clasped over the disabling wound.
"やめろ!"
Jozu attempts to rise up, stop her, but she knees him in the face, breaking his nose, and plants one metallic boot firmly on his throat.
"Dammit!... LET HIM GO!"
The warden attempts to stand, but the pain from her wound flares, forcing her back down.
"Let him go? Hah... make me."
Crouching down, she pulls something from his belt pouch. A small paper orb with a length of fuse extending from one end.
"Chosen bombs?... Not a match for ashfeld explosives, but it'll serve to finish you off. You can hardly move out of the way like that."
"...いいえ..."
Taking a flint striker from her own belt, she lights the fuse, and gently rolls it along the ground to rest under the warden. She tries to throw herself to the side, but simply collapses, just to the side of it.
"Die."
"Damn... it..."
…
Snap.
"What?"
The Warden opens her eyes. In front of her eyes lay three things. The two snapped halves of an ashfeldian crossbow bolt, and the smoldering tip of the japanese fuse, severed from the explosive charge with a precise shot.
"I see I've arrived just in time to see the fireworks. Or, rather, the lack of them."
"Mi...milady...!"
Two black leather boots impact the small of Apollyon's back, sending her stumbling off Jozu.
"DIE!"
Makoto tears apart the floor where Shinobu was until only moments ago standing once more. The both of them were riddled with bruises and shallow cuts from innumerable glancing blows.
"HOLD STILL!"
Ducking low under the swipe, Shinobu kicks low, trying to sweep the ex-shugoki's feet out from under him. Hopping over her leg, he brings the pommel of his weapon down onto her wooden mask, cracking it open and sending her onto her back. Picking her up by her hair, he hurls her into a wooden pillar, knocking the wind out of her.
"ISAGIYOKU SHINE!"
Hauling her up on one shoulder, he braces the Jisei across her back, bloody spikes pressing into her spine.
"Gehehe! I'll snap you in half!"
Naginata knocked from her hands, she draws the tanto on her hip and hilts it in his back. Grip loosening for a moment, she pulls herself from his arms and knees him in the mouth.
"HAHAAH! THAT'S BETTER!"
Unphased by the several inches of nippon steel lodged in his back, he swings the Jisei for her head hard enough to shatter the pillar she had been thrown against as she ducked it. Putting her hands against the snapped pillar, she plants both feet on his chest and kicks, driving him back. Crouching low and sweeping up her polearm, she dashes forward, quickly thrusting past his guard, opening up a bleeding wound on his shoulder. Sticking her blade into the ground to support her, she kicks him back once more. Continuing the onslaught, she readies an overhead strike for her staggered opponent.
"Oshite mairu!"
"Hey, good form!"
Grabbing the naginata by the blade, blood running liberally from his hand, he grins.
"Too good! You know what your problem is?! You're too rigid! I know every kata you're reciting in your head. Every move you have, and when you'd use it! The chosen think war is a mechanical exercise. Every strike is measured and remeasured, practiced until it becomes muscle memory! That makes you PREDICTABLE. Fighting is in our blood! Struggle is the natural state of mankind! All war is... is the natural conclusion of our own instincts!"
Twisting the blade, he snaps the head right off her weapon, leaving her with an unbalanced bo staff.
"You need to use your head less, and your heart more!"
Stepping on her foot, he sends her flying with a golf swing from his Jisei, right into the wooden rails of the balcony overlooking the rest of the hill on the southern face of the dojo.
Sagging into the half-snapped wooden beam, Shinobu wavers on the edge of consciousness.
"What? Are you done? What happened to that revenge of yours?! Can you even remember that, on the verge of death like you are?"
"...Tch. You truly think me defeated? I'm... not even close to done."
Rising to her shaky feet, Shinobu grits her teeth, and looks up, fire in her eyes. Her ribs were broken, and those spikes had punctured deep. But that didn't matter right now. She couldn't even feel the wounds, aside from the unconscious knowledge they were there. She felt... strange, as if she were floating above her body inside of inside it, controlling the flesh as a Ningyōzukai would move his puppet.
"Remember... remember my vengeance? I don't need to do that. That hate isn't in my mind... it's been branded into my soul. I hate you. And I hate this place."
"...Huh?"
"This... foolish land, full of people who are so tied up in traps of 'honor' and 'shame' that they refuse to live in the face of it, afraid to do what's right, if it embarrasses them before their peers, afraid of being ostracized. I've been shamed... degraded, all my life. I'm a pariah. The daughter of a daimyo, yet I can bear no heirs for his bloodline. Born a noblewoman, yet I fight in the mud for the sake of filthy peons. And yet, I fight all the same. I rose above their filth and became something beautiful in my own right, against all odds. Like the lotus. That's... that's what he called me."
"He...?"
"...My husband. The man I loved. The only reason I wasn't alone. The only one in the whole world who saw me as something more than a stain on my family's pride. The man you took from me... with your thoughtless actions."
Suddenly, she broke into run, eyes locked on the half-oni's own.
"Running towards me, without any weapons?! Do you want to join your beloved?!"
"No... Not yet. Come to me... KOGA MAKOTO!"
"This...THIS KILLING INTENT! I LOVE IT!"
Roaring, he charges for her in turn, the Makoto No Jisei raised high.
"You're a hell of a woman, Satō Shinobu! I'd have liked a drink with your husband, loving a thing like you!"
"If our next lives bid it, you'll get your chance!"
Ignoring her pain, she ducks low, rolling under the powerful, clumsy swing of Makoto's kanabo. Springing to her feet and lunging forward, she tears the tanto from his back. Turning around, he laughs insanely.
"FIGHT! FIGHT WITH EVERYTHING YOU HAVE! GIVE ME SOMETHING TO REMEMBER! OR A DEATH WORTH SINGIN' ABOUT! SHOW ME WHO'S STRONGER!"
He winds his demonic club back with all his strength, preparing the mightiest blow he could muster. Holding the dagger in two hands, Shinobu thrusts with all her strength, shouting:
"This is the end!"
...
For what seems like an eternity, all is silent.
"H-huh?..."
The massive rod of iron drops to the ground with a clang. Pushing through, Shinobu continues the cut. Left to right across the abdomen. Just like her husband did, all that time ago.
"So..."
Makoto takes a step back, then, another. Slumping against a pillar, he looks down at the mortal wound across his stomach.
"...This is what it feels like?"
She crouches down low, to meet the dying man's eyes.
"...The love of my life felt this, long ago. He was the retainer of a daimyō that you killed on your escape from the imperial city. Failing to protect him, he was disgraced before the emperor. To preserve his honor, and his foolish pride... to save me and the rest of his family from that meaningless shame... He took his own life with this blade. You... and this cruel society that forced a good man into death for another's ignoble actions... you both killed him. Now, you know his pain."
"H-heeh... Don't samurai who commit harakiri have a second to k-kill 'em quick?"
"Yes. As a nobushi, I was his comrade in arms before I was his wife... and I was afforded the privilege."
She throws the tanto from across the dojo, sailing off the southern balcony to the courtyard below.
"But I refuse to do so again. You are no samurai. Just a dying dog."
"What? You think I want this to end? I just wanted t' stop listenin' t' that self-righteous prattle you bastards like so much... Get real... I wanna revel in this a little longer...! This pain! ...That was one hell of a battle! ...That's what I was l-lookin' for, all my life...! Two warriors, givin' it their all, fightin' to the bitter end! Don't care if I win or lose ...All the torments... that the fires of Naraka have for me... 'll be worth it, after that..."
The chuckling voice of Koga Makoto, Oni-shiseiji of the western swamps, infamous bandit lord, disgraced bodyguard of the emperor himself, faded away, along with his life.
She felt... strange. Wordlessly, Shinobu's body, that puppet she had been so artfully maneuvering, fell to the ground, and she plunged into the deepest sleep she would know.
The battle was winding down. The Iron Legion was cleaning up the rest of the bandits, alongside General Tozen's forces. Captain Marius looked around at the desolation around him. It was so, so eerily quiet. They had done it. They had taken Rosa Collis. Well, he says taken. He already had a vigorous and highly frank conversation with the legendary leader of the samurai army as to the nature of their mission, and agreed to leave the territory immediately or forfeit his life. So, really, Tozen had taken it. But, they had won. Now, there was only one thing to do. The Peacekeeper sped off in a hurry after she learned the warden had gone to clear the southwestern quarter. Like she knew something he didn't. He was battered and bruised, armor banged and ripped by the onslaught it had absorbed for it's bearer. but so long as he had a spark of life left in him, he'd continue the fight. Holding his side, he slung his poleaxe up on one shoulder, and followed after the veteran assassin.
"Apollyon... Long time, no see, hm?"
Flourishing her twin blades, the peacekeeper stands between the two wounded apprentices and the warlord.
"We've... met?"
"Hmph. I really wish we didn't have to wear these masks, maybe people would gasp and go 'it's YOU!' more."
"Sorry to disappoint. Enlighten me."
"Six years ago. We called it the Shard before you took it, but you decided to call it something much more imaginative."
"..You know, it's only you people that call it 'Blackstone Fortress'."
"I was there for your very first act of open treason. You and your backstabbing goons slaughtered the Iron contingent there and founded your mongrel 'Legion' over our still-warm corpses."
Eyes narrowing and voice growing colder, as serious as the barely conscious warden has ever heard her, the Peacekeeper hisses at the traitor knight.
"You slashed me across the back as I ran, and had me and my troops piled into a mass grave and burned! Unfortunately for you, a rainstorm came before the flames reached me. I clawed my way back from hell, through the meat and the smoke... to take you with me."
"M-milady! ...I had no idea that you had ever gone through anything so horrible..."
The peacekeeper looks back at her, a shudder running down her spine for just a moment.
"I'm... very good at hiding it, dear. Not all stories have such happy endings as our captain's, it should seem."
Refusing to speak further about it, she inclines her head to the ninja with the broken nose, and speaks in Japanese.
"You wouldn't happen to be Jozu, would you?"
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Take her, get her out of here. I'll handle this one."
As he hauls the warden up to her feat, letting her rest on his shoulder, she reaches out a hand for the older woman.
"We're going away...? But, you said... not to fight her alone..."
"You've softened her up, my dear. I can handle this. Now, go."
"..."
Wordlessly, she looks down, allowing herself to be carried off by the ninja.
"Hmph. I may have been 'softened up', but I'd say time's done most of my work for me on your end. I beat you once, and you were younger then."
"So were you. And, mind, I have no intention of fighting with any 'honor' this time around . This was never meant to be a fair fight."
"Of course. It's only natural to use everything you have to survive."
"So... shall we begin?"
"Obviou-"
Pulling her crossbow from her waist, she fires as Apollyon answers. She catches the bolt with her off hand, and, throwing it to the ground, charges. Drawing her sword with one hand, she fishes around in her robes with the other, eventually coming away with one of the blinding flash-bombs of Ashfeld, the Fiat Lux. Averting her gaze, she slams it on the ground hard as she can, setting it off in Apollyon's face. She protects herself from the flash with her black cape, raising the thick cloth up with one hand, but that hardly mattered- all she needed was to blind her for a moment, whether it be with light or her own cloak. Dashing around to her side, the peacekeeper stabs at her leg, dagger slipping in between two armor plates. Ducking the counterattack, she quickly backs off, leaving the dagger in the wound, left with only her sword as she eyes the now limping warlord.
"That's one for me, dear."
"I still have the advantage. You want to kill me. All I have to do is stop you. Do I need this leg? You'll come to me of your own volition."
"I could just leave you to be overwhelmed by our forces."
"That would hardly give you the satisfaction, wou-"
The peacekeeper slashes forward with her arming sword in two hands. Blocking the blade, Apollyon throws an easily dodged punch, giving the assassin an opportunity to kick her in her dagger wound, knocking the shorter blade out and ripping the wound open wider. Apollyon slams her sword down, But the peackeeper catches the blade with the flat of her own as she dodged, deflecting the crushing blow into the ground. Crouching low, she snatches up her dagger, and springing up with one leg, she drives the knee of the other into Apollyon's face. Not done yet, the Peacekeeper leaps after her stumbling opponent and aims the tip of her sword for the neck. Stepping to the side, Apollyon grabs the peacekeeper by the shoulder and throws her into one of the many pillars holding up the balcony overlooking their arena. Catching Apollyon's longsword with crossed blades, the warlord pushes her up against the pillar.
"Not strong en-"
"Oh, shut up!"
Tearing her dagger arm free of the blade lock, she brings the short blade's pommel down on top of the warlords head and knees her in the crotch. Having sent her opponent back and disoriented her, she jumps up with both legs and twists her body in the air, dropkicking the heavily-armored woman hard enough to send her onto her back. Loading a bolt into her crossbow, she fires it at her downed opponent. Apollyon just barely rolls out of the way, but in so doing she gave her enemy enough time to load another projectile. And, in the same way, another, and another.
This went on for some time.
"Let me get up, damn you!"
"I said this wouldn't be a fair fight. Now dance!"
The peacekeeper reaches for yet another bolt, but finds her hip quiver empty.
"Oh. Bastard."
Both of her main weapons sheathed to free her hands for shooting and reloading, she hastily holsters the short crossbow and attempts to draw them, but Apollyon tackles her to the ground first. Her blade knocked from her hands from the kick, she was unarmed, but having her opponent pinned to the ground, that hardly mattered. Raising one metal-clad fist, she smashes it into the peacekeepers faceplate, again and again. She tried to counter, but it was no use- without metal gauntlets, her bare-handed blows hurt her more than Apollyon, unless she targeted a weak spot such as the knife wound in her leg or put all her weight behind it like that flying knee earlier. Her sword was too long to be of use in a grapple like this, so her only recourse was to draw her dagger. Flipping it into an icepick grip, she stabs up at her attacker, aiming for the slats in her helmet, put Apollyon grabs her wrist, and, pounding her enemy's head until her grip loosened, tore the blade from her hands and armed herself with it, gripping it with both hands, she prepared to plunge down. Beaten to the edge of consciousness, the peacekeeper could barely think at all, much less think her way out of this.
CLANG.
Thankfully, her new friend, Satō Shinobu, or Shinobu Satō as the westerners would say, had her covered, whether either of them knew it or not. From the balcony looking over the hill's base, where this small courtyard lay, came flying a discarded japanese fighting dagger, or tanto, soaked in blood, spitefully tossed by the wounded nobushi to refuse what she thought to be a request for a quick death. Landing just to her side, the peacekeeper didn't think, except maybe to wonder if she should do that prayer thing more, and grabbed the bloodied knife, plunging it into Apollyon's side. Tearing her visor open with her free hand as Apollyon recoiled from the sudden agony, she let go of the dagger, leaving it in her opponent, and slammed her in the face. With a satisfying crack, Apollyon's nose broke, and the Peacekeeper pushed the warlord off her.
The both of them stayed there, stilled by injury, for a long, long time. They were both terribly wounded at the hands of the other. But eventually, their moment of peace came to an end.
Stumbling to her feet, the Peacekeeper drew her sword. But... it was all she could do to level it at her enemy, the twisted thing that had killed her comrades all those years ago, after a vicious beating like that.
"How... about... running away?"
Silently rising, Apollyon pulls the tanto from the wound, standing straight, sword still held firmly in hand.
"This isn't over yet."
Looking up to the sky and groaning, the peacekeeper throws her arms wide limply.
"God a-fucking-bove, what are you, invincible? The god of war or something?"
"I should hope so. Now... lets end this."
Taking her sword in two hands, the Blackstone warlord charges. With stumbling steps, the Peacekeeper runs for her in turn, shortsword leveled.
'...Whatever. This is a fine way to go out, anyhow.'
But then, something stops them. With a clack, something dark, spherical, and sizzling landed between the two. Eyes blurred by blood and sweat, they both squint to see what.
A small sphere of black iron, with a lit fuse. About the size of an apple, it was much smaller than most other ashfeldian personal explosives, owing to the stronger powder mix inside, allowing multiple of them to be carried more easily and safely into battle. An Igneus Imber, one of the miniature grenades custom made by the order of the Lawbringers for combatting large groups.
"Oh, hell!"
Both opponents threw themselves clumsily back as the grenade explodes into a hellish ball of shrapnel and death.
Both survived, narrowly avoiding the blast, but only Apollyon rose; the Iron Legion assassin had suffered one knock on the head too many to get to her feet.
"Sorry for the wait. I arrived some time ago, but I was preoccupied."
Dropping down from the balcony below onto the scorched, pulverized stone between the two, Captain Marius levels the spearpoint of his polearm at the wounded warlord before him.
"Preoccupied... with what?! She almost beat me to death!"
"With saving a foolish samurai's life, as it were."
Looking up to the balcony above, the peacekeeper saw Shinobu, one arm hanging limply, torso dressed in bandages, and using the shattered shaft of her naginata as a cane.
"The golden knight saved me with strength of arms and medicine both. I didn't just teach myself swordplay."
Raising the axe end of his weapon above his head, and angling the spiked pommel at Apollyon, he assumes a fighting stance.
"The both of you, I will end this. The conqueror is escorting our warden and her ninja friend to the medics. Didn't even try to kill him, either. Find them."
"...You don't have to tell me twice."
Turning his head to look at her, he seemed surprised.
"Huh? Th...that was easy."
"I couldn't fight a dog like this, dear. It pains me, but... I leave it to you."
Plunging her blade into the earth, she slowly rises to her feet. Turning to Apollyon, Captain Marius readies himself for one hell-
She was gone.
"Wh...where'd she go?!"
"Go? She went somewhere?!"
"You...! How could you not see her leave?!"
"I have two black eyes! I can barely see you! GET AFTER HER!"
Whirling around, Marius sprints after the wounded, fleeing warlord.
Hobbling from the combination of the peacekeeper's dagger and the warden's Mordhau, concussed from the same, teeth cracked and bleeding from stopping her blade, and with blood running liberally from her side and nose, Apollyon wasn't actually doing all that well, despite the image she had projected onto the Iron Legion assassin. She couldn't die. Not yet. Not until she accomplished her mission. Not until she saved them from themselves.
Only when she set them free. Her wolves.
Stopping, the Lawbringer looks around the burning fortress, trying to find her among the flame and blood.
There. Off in the distance. Even with one hand stopping the blood running from her side, she was busily cutting down the legionaries trying to stop her escape. Chaos. That was her only objective. To see the ruthless devour the innocent. But he... he is order. He is law. And, by his oath as a Lawbringer, he will stop her.
Cutting down the last of the Iron Legion soldiers, Apollyon looks back. The so called 'lawbringer' was coming for her. Still some distance away, but even in that heavy armor, he's faster than her with these legs. Cutting through a small, burning building to her left, she slashes the crumbling wood of the doorway and it collapses into a pile of embers and char fit to block the way. Limping through the storeroom, Apollyon heads as fast as her wounded leg would let her for the south gate, opposite the Iron legion's entry point, and where her second-in-command and favorite lackey, Holden Cross, was waiting for her, along with the majority of her accompaniment.
Marius simply crashes through the makeshift barricade into the swelteringly hot building. He tries to wrench his visor open to cope with the hellish hear, but is stopped by the flaming arrow, shaft still firmly lodged through his helmet and point still steadily burning. Lord have mercy, what do they put on these things?
"Holden."
Her second in command, helmet under one arm and halberd plunged in the ground, was dictating orders to the Blackstones as they strategically retreated from the lost battle. Hearing her voice, he put a hand to his chest and turned around, only for his arms- and jaw, and helmet, clattering to the ground unceremoniously- dropped at the state of his superior.
"God above! You look half killed! Someone get a stretcher for our-"
Quickly, she grabs him by the shoulder with one clawed gauntlet.
"No. I can walk. Listen to me, Holden."
"Y-yes, Master?"
"A man is coming through these gates after me. A lawbringer, like you once were. The Iron's leader. And he has those annoying mini grenades of yours."
"Igneus Imber? Always thought those were bullshit. They trained us to counter any blow, not throw a bunch of fucking bombs around."
"Whatever you need to survive, I'd say. But that's not important. What's important is that you stop him. Here. Now. Our work is not yet done."
"Easily done. Men! Close the gate, just wide enough for one man to get through!"
Before him lay the south gate. It was the logical point of exit, of course. His troop had entered through the north, and the Samurai forces had used the escape tunnel for their own plan. The two great walls of wood were only barely open, hardly wider than a single man's breadth. How fortunate for the warlord. Leveling his poleaxe cautiously, point ready for anyone to emerge through the other side, Marius advanced slowly. One step through the gates. Then another. One more.
Here he was, past the chokepoint. No one had jumped for him, nor did he meet any archerfire. Well, caution is the better part of valor. Then he looked to his left.
Having hid against the great bulk of the doors, Holden waited for the lawbringer to drop his guard before swinging the hammer end of his poleaxe right into his head, just in time to meet his turning face. Marius collapsed like a bag of rocks, and the disgraced member of the order looked down on his would-be comrade. He was still alive.
"Well, that was easier than I was expecting."
"What..."
"...Are you doing, brother...?"
The whole world was spinning. He could taste iron in his mouth. He could feel a shattered length of mire wood rattling inside his helmet, the last remains of the arrow that had been lodged in his visor the whole battle.
"I'm not your brother, boy."
From under his breastplate, he fished out a blackstone legion medallion, an emblem of a skull and greathelm conjoined by a sword emblazoned upon it. Putting the medallion back inside his armor, he takes his gilded poleaxe in two hands.
"My master requested I stop you from following us. Nothing personal."
"You serve Apollyon...? But... by our oath...!"
"I saw you hold that samurai sword-saint aloft on that axe of yours during the battle. You're strong. And skilled. But not very self-aware. Or realistic, it sounds like."
"…Traitor!"
He surges to his feet-
"Sit down!"
-only to be smacked back down by the metal shaft of Holden's Linebeck axe, and once more as he tries to rise again. Forced to his hands and knees, Holden raises his axe for an executioner's downstroke.
"...How could you?!"
Holden stops his axe as the young man before him snarls from clenched, bloody teeth.
"It is our duty! To protect them! The weak... The very people that the one you so sycophantically call 'master' considers beneath even dogs! Why?!"
"I said that I'm no brother to you. I left the order a long time ago."
"Then tell me why! You bore it same as I! The trials, the beatings, the endless days of drills and forced marches! It is hell! To become one of us is to fight harder than anyone else... So why? Why fight so hard, just to throw it all away?! You're not my brother. But you used to be. What changed?"
Casting his helmet off, he looked up at Cross, face beaten and bloody, blue eyes looking into the older man's own desperately. He really was a young man. He looked more at home behind a plow or milking cows than in a suit of full plate. With bruised lips and bloody tongue, Marius screamed at him.
"WHAT CHANGED?!"
Still holding his axe aloft, Holden looked back down at the idealistic Captain, mouth a grimace and pity in his eyes, for a long time.
"...Stay down, boy. Maybe you'll learn that the world isn't so simple, someday."
Sighing, Holden brought the blunt pommel of his poleaxe down onto Marius's bare face, and darkness took him.