Chapter 8: The Battle of Kerouac Gorge


Excerpt from "A History of Toulouse"

Two and a half years after the Organization's destruction, Phantom Miria, now promoted to Major General of the Army of Rabona, succeeded in one of the most audacious, multi-pronged night-time attacks in the history of military warfare. Her casualties were amazingly low, her attacks ruthlessly effective, wiping out almost half of King Charles' attacking army. However, that half of his army was of considerably less quality than that which remained.

After her astounding victory, Miria's main army, consisting of just over twenty claymores, 1000 pikemen, 500 swordsmen, and 500 archers moved south-west of the western hill-fort to the Gorge de Kerouac. It was soon joined by cavalry squadrons under the command of Miria's fiancée, Captain Cid Malaga and the Elite Guard under Captain Tabitha. The cavalry and Elite Guard only just slipped by King Charles' forces, but brought their army enough supplies to last several weeks.

King Charles' army was cut off from all of its supply lines, the most important of which ran through the very treacherous Kerouac Gorge the Rabonese Army was occupying. The other routes back were difficult, and if Charles defeated Miria's army at Kerouac, he'd have the road to Rabona's eventual conquest wide open. For both accomplished commanders, one recently triumphant, the other horribly humbled, it was a battlefield neither could afford to retreat from...


"As you can see father, that's all of them."

His father, the bearded and graying King Charles, looked through a hand telescope down the perilously narrow length of the Kerouac Gorge. Philippe knew it was bordered by a cliff-face to the south and a small mountain to the north.

"Ah, I see the foul witch," his father commented, "take a look Philippe."

His father was on horseback and in the safety of the Royal Guard's formation. The king handed him the hand telescope and pointed towards the center of the enemy formation, where a multitude of white flags were fluttering.

"She's on that small hill overlooking the swordsmen in their center," his father instructed.

It took a moment to follow his father's instructions, as he first looked through the telescope to find a mass of pikemen, but Philippe swiveled the telescope a little too far to the right to find yet another battalion of enemy pikemen. A quick correction brought into view a battalion of heavily-armored swordsmen flanked by a stream to the south. A glance upwards found the enemy archers readying behind makeshift wooden shields planted into the ground, and just beyond that was...

"Holy shit," he muttered.

"Indeed," his father agreed, "quite the looker. You might say she's the very definition of the femme fatale."

It was not hard to spot the Rabonese general, Miria, who was distinctively armored in plate mail, golden pauldrons, gold-rimmed greaves and gauntlets, and had a magnificent gold-rimmed helmet topped with a plume of white feathers.

"It's hard to believe that she's the one who destroyed half our army."

"Yes, amazing isn't it?"

Philippe blinked and looked over at his father, who had just uttered the words with venomous sarcasm as he self-consciously touched the crown atop his head.

"Father, we had no way-"

His father began ranting: "No way of knowing that the Rabonese army would attack at night? Or that Miria would overthrow the Rabona Orthodox Church so easily? All of you imbeciles told me it would never happen!"

The hugely built General Davout tried to interrupt, "Your Majesty, we-"
"All of you just shut up," his father yelled. "When I said I wanted to hit Rabona with the whole force, the rest of you said no. Now thanks to your advice, I have lost half of my army. To top it off, that damn witch has cut our supply lines. We are going to win here today or heads are going to roll!"

"Your Majesty, with all due respect, the Kerouac Gorge is a deathtrap," Davout reminded.

"Yes, but not necessarily if one knows the terrain," King Charles darkly smiled. "General Miria may be a master of attacking warfare, but it seems she needs experience in defense. Those pikemen she has south of the stream will be useless if it floods. If she had any experience she'd have put her pikemen in the center, but she's put swordsmen in the center. Our knights will have no trouble charging right into them."

"Even given that sire, Phantom Miria's position is outstanding given her reserves of claymores and cavalry," Davout pointed out. "She's got 2200 men and 30 claymores in a high position. We can't win if Miria doesn't commit her reserves before we send in our knights, and we can't flank her!"

"Now that," King Charles rebutted, smiling, "is where you're wrong General Davout."


"Here they come alright, just look at them Miria," Helen commented into her right ear.

Miria turned to find Helen observing the enemy advance through a hand telescope, standing beneath and to the left of her horseback perch.

"Is it too much to ask for military propriety ONE DAY in your life Commander Helen?"

Helen sighed, "No General Miria."

Perched atop a black stallion on the crest of a small hill, it was nearly impossible to miss what Helen was talking about. The Kerouac Gorge was only a few hundred yards wide where they were, bordered by cliffs to the southern, right flank. The left side of the Rabonese Army was bordered by smaller hills. King Charles' army was advancing a mile away, its numbers clearly greater.

Renée , standing to the right, cast a skeptical glance at the Rabonese center, "Should we not strip the right flank and beef up the center? The Swordsmen Battalion is sure to be hit by the full force of King Charles' knights, and pikemen are ideal for that."

Captain Tabitha, standing just a little ways off, angrily retorted, "Are you saying you doubt General Miria's decisions as a commander?"

"Officers," Miria cut off her subordinates before the spat grew worse, "we cannot be flanked, and we have enough reserves behind the center to take whatever King Charles throws at us. We have annihilated half their army in one night, and today we can win this war."

Renée surprisingly kept going after this; "All I'm saying, general, is that the hills to the north, no matter what Captain Tabitha says, are not so steep as to be impassable for enemy troops."

"Commander," Miria whispered to Renée , taking Renée under a shoulder, "I understand your concern, but don't scare our troops. If the enemy attempts anything, we'll have time to react. Remember, as long as I am on this field of battle, we cannot lose."

Miria saluted, which Renée immediately returned.

"See to your troops Commander."

Renée rushed back to the right flank, where her pikemen battalion was awaiting.

It was not hard to notice that Helen was turning to leave.

"Commander Helen," Miria said, at which Helen's gold-gilded pauldrons slumped, "I would like my hand telescope back."

Helen handed it back, saluted, then walked off to the army's opposite flank.

"You'll have quite the legacy if you win here general," Tabitha complimented, walking over.

"I don't need it Captain," Miria remarked. "But," she said, adjusting her vocal chords to speak loud enough for the army to hear, "What I want is for us to win. And what I want more than anything else is for my brave men to survive! I want the brave men of Rabona to survive so that someday, when the people ask you decades from now, it will be enough to say 'I fought at Kerouac' for everyone to say, 'There walks a brave man.'"

The troops let out a huge cheer as the enemy army marched ever closer. As they shouted "long live Miria", she acknowledged their cheers. It took a mere glance through the hand telescope to see a force of around 2000 infantry marching forward, followed close behind by half their numbers worth in archers. Another thousand infantry, Charles' knights, and the Royal Guardsmen stayed back.

Miria managed a small grin as the enemy came into the deadly gorge's narrower portion a mere half mile ahead. Her grin was not sadistic; rather it was because unlike the nonsensical nightmare, Natalie's presence was nowhere nearby. Overhead the massive thunderstorm that had been coming in from the west finally began to pour rain upon the Gorge, with lightning flashing vibrantly overhead and thunder shaking the air.


"Bonjour dear Natalie," a man's voice called out from above.

Natalie looked up to find Rubel standing atop Rabona's central western gatehouse. It overlooked the last remaining major bridge across the slow-moving Toulouse River. She was on the western wall and had been hoping to see the battle when Rubel had interrupted.

"I'm not supposed to talk to you, and anyways, how did you get up there?"

"That information is not for sale," Rubel answered airily, "and anyways, you'd best keep that hand off your sword if you want your beloved mother to live."

"How dare you threaten mother," she snapped, gripping her sword in defiance.

"I suppose however," Rubel commented, "that with my being here and you being on the wall means you couldn't jump to get me, which means chasing me is pointless."

Natalie didn't give him an opportunity to taunt further, but backed away along the wall, preparing her move.

"Whatever it is you're planning I'd suggest against it," Rubel advised.

Natalie instead started running the opposite direction, jumped sideways feet-first onto the side of another gatehouse, and pushed off. She sped up, took a few preparatory bounds, and made a last massive push-off from the wall's stone walkway. Her jump carried her up to heights beyond her most optimistic hopes, and she made the two-story jump with plenty of height to spare.

Natalie landed immediately before a surprised Rubel, drew her sword, and swung it forward at his neck. Rubel blinked in surprise to find his head still atop his shoulders.

"You did say my mother's life was in danger," Natalie whispered dangerously, "so start talking."

"Ah, yes I did," Rubel murmured, seemingly glancing at her blade a mere inch from his neck, "You see, Miria's forces are inadequate for winning the battle. The enemy has enough infantry and archers to send another force around her flank on an old sheep path. In order to slow them down, Miria will have to deploy the Elite Guard. When she does so, King Charles will send in his one thousand armored knights into the Rabonese center. Without the Elite Guard to hold them back, they'll break through, and very soon your mother's valiant defense will become a senseless slaughter."

"So how do I stop that from happening or have you not figured that out?"

Natalie was trying to sound dangerous but not entirely succeeding.

"King Charles will be at the back of the enemy army, escorted by only the hundred soldiers of his Royal Guard. If you were to kill King Charles and his top general, you could throw the enemy army into disarray and allow your mother to win the battle," Rubel suggested.

"What's the catch?"

"Danger of dying I suppose," Rubel admitted, "but chances are much better your dear mother would survive. I don't see why you wouldn't act—it's what a good daughter would do."

"I am a good daughter, and I know you're just trying to provoke me into-"

"What kind of a useful daughter lets her mother die while doing nothing?"

"Good job Natalie," Camilla's voice interjected, "we're coming up in a moment!"

Natalie looked down to the wall below to see coif-haired Camilla and white-haired Virginia running up. Behind them was an entire company of spearmen, and then Virginia motioned to the men, and dozens rushed forward, into the gatehouse's wall door.

Camilla and Virginia were readying to jump the two stories when Rubel moved, drawing back from the sword quickly, and then throwing something. There came a flash of white light followed by suffocating white smoke, and then Natalie found herself alone. The silver-eyed cousins arrived a moment later, both scowling at Rubel's disappearing act for a moment.

"Wait a minute, there he is," Camilla shouted, pointing to the gatehouse's edge.

Rubel was descending on a hangar dangling from a zip line. This was attached to the gatehouse flagpole, with its other end attached to an open window two blocks away.

"He's not getting away that easily," Captain Virginia remarked, emphasizing the point perfectly by slashing the zip line with one vertical swing of her massive sword.

Rubel squawked in alarm as he fell into the thatched roof of a house under construction. A massive pile of dust and debris plumed skyward as Captain Virginia, Camilla and a half dozen soldiers ran down the tower's stairs and out of sight after the ex-Organization handler. Natalie remained, alone atop the gatehouse tower, its white flag with Rabonese dollar and wings symbol emblazoned in gold fluttering in the high winds. She suddenly noticed that there was another small line attached just under the flag, this one descending away from the city and towards the battle.

"Useless, she's frickin' useless Miria," Helen's voice rang out. "There's no point in training her. She belongs in a kitchen, not on the battlefield."

Natalie looked around even though she knew the voice was in her head.

"You want my opinion Natalie?" It was Renée 's sympathetic voice in her head now. "The only way you'll ever truly gain respect is if you do something incredible."

Natalie's decisive spirit was broken a moment later by remembering her mother's plea.

"Natalie, please, I understand how much you want to fight, but it would be too painful for me to watch. No mother wants to see her children on a battlefield, even a claymore like me."

Natalie inhaled sharply at hearing Miria's voice, and then glanced both towards the pursuit of Rubel and the stormy battlefield far to the west. Tears began running down her face…

"What kind of a useful daughter lets her mother die while doing nothing?"

It was Rubel's voice, tormenting her now as she seesawed between helping in the battle and pursuing Rubel alongside Camilla and Captain Virginia.

"The only way to make tough decisions is to follow your heart Natalie. That's the way I decided to marry Raul. Miria loves you, but someday you're going to have to make a decision on your own that she disagrees with. You can't remain Miria's little girl forever Natalie."

It was Nadia's voice from a long time ago, just a few weeks after they'd first come to Rabona, but deep down Nadia's words felt instinctively right. Natalie suddenly noticed she was standing upon a hanger. It looked as though its triangle steel shape would be conveniently strong enough to support her weight going down the nearby zip line. She could see the zip line's end was on the opposite river bank. Natalie took one last glance at Rabona, and then put the hanger on the zip line.


"Alright, let's not panic Camilla," white-haired Virginia said, pacing around Miria's strategy room, the lightning of the storm outside flashing through the window behind Miria's desk.

"What's not to panic about Virginia?" Camilla countered, "Natalie is nowhere to be found, and Miria's going to go ballistic if we don't track her down!"

"Let's just start with what we know Camilla," Virginia stated, sighing.

"What we know is about half an hour ago Natalie probably left in the direction of the battle."

Camilla was sitting on one edge of the strategy room while Virginia paced before her looking like a nervous wreck, running her fingers through her white hair.

"I know that Camilla," Virginia responded, looking at her with frantic silver eyes, "but I think if Natalie were to get hurt in that battle, Miria wouldn't be able to handle it."

"Oh come on, this is Miria-"

"I'm not kidding around Camilla," Virginia shouted, "Miria might be able to handle you or me dying, but she's always wracked by guilt about comrades dying. If Renée or Helen were to die, I don't think we'd ever see the same Miria again, and if..."

"And if what Virginia?"

Virginia's armored shoulders slumped at the mere question.

"If...if Natalie were to die, I don't think Miria would decide to live on," Virginia stated quietly.

"Oh come on, Miria's not the-"

"What do you know of Miria, Camilla? Half the time the only thing you care about is your hairstyling, and the rest of the time is split between finding cute men and your duties as a soldier. I've been through Miria's files from the Organization, and she has two known bouts of near-suicidal depression. We need to get someone to go out, find Natalie, and bring her back," Virginia declared a little more certainly.

"Then there's only one claymore around who could find Natalie, and she's downstairs Captain."

"Galatea? You want me to authorize Galatea's release Camilla? That woman is loyal to the church, tried to kill Miria, and we've had her imprisoned for the last few days, why would she help us?"

Virginia seemed very dubious on the proposition.

"Galatea's been betrayed by the church, and besides, even Galatea should know the consequences if Miria awakened in despair," Camilla pointed out.

"That's a terrifying thought," Virginia agreed, "and the only ones capable of stopping whatever resulted would be Raki and Claire, wherever the hell they are now. Alright, we'll release Galatea in exchange for her help, and if she doesn't agree, scare the hell out of her until she does."

Camilla left Virginia in Miria's office, and ran past numerous surprised guards on the way to the basement stairs. Descending at an almost unsafe speed, the keep's spiral stairwell went by quickly. She opened the stairwell's ground floor door with perhaps a little too much force, sending a messenger in red sprawling.

"Sorry," Camilla apologized to the shocked messenger, and then kept running.

She kept going past the central entrance hall, then rushed around to the left and down a flight of stairs to the vault. A large claymore was nestled before the immense vault doors in a glass case. A dozen well-armed guards immediately snapped to attention as she clambered down the last few stairs into the dank stone anteroom lit only by dozens of candles. The men all presented arms and salutes.

"Lieutenant Camilla," their sergeant said, standing at attention, "you want to open the vault?"

"Yes, get the vault open, I've got to see the traitor immediately."

The men quickly spun the vault's locking mechanisms open, and with a great heave, they opened the vault door to a room filled with treasures and lit only by a pair of candles. Camilla grabbed a sword case from next to the door and walked in escorted by a pair of lantern-wielding soldiers. A nun with milky white eyes sat in a dank corner sniffing.

"Have you come to test my faith, or just to taunt me in my captivity Camilla?"

It took merely throwing the claymore's case at Galatea's feet to get a different reaction, "What is this, some sort of cruel joke?"

"I'm not joking around; Natalie's gone, probably to help her mother, and Captain Virginia wants your help in finding Natalie and bringing her back," she told Galatea.

"I want full amnesty for the church's leadership and myself," Galatea demanded.

"Wrong answer miss zealot, but gee, it's too bad. You're going to look a lot worse in six months than you do now for your penal hearing with the Council of Lords. If you help, General Miria will probably allow you to get some new clothes, haircuts, not to mention get you a bath. I'd agree to it, but what do I know about you, especially since most nuns walk around with split ends anyways."

"Alright," Galatea huffed, "I get the damn picture already!"

"So you'll do it?"

Galatea seemed lost in thought, "Well..."


Nina asked, "What's that whistling sound Renée ?"

Renée knocked Nina to the ground behind the pikemen formation's wall of shields, and a second later several dozen arrows hit the ground where Nina had been standing. A formation of concealed archers was just visible behind the oncoming formation of enemy infantry.

"Holy shit that was close," Nina exclaimed.

Renée helped Nina up, and then shouted at the formation, "Maintain Bouclier formation until the enemy is within fifty yards!"

The pikemen barely acknowledged as a wounded member of the battalion was hoisted out of the ranks. The man had been hit by an arrow in the neck, and was already nearly dead as his blood gushed out of the horrible wound. Renée motioned over a pair of nearby archers, who carried the man away using a bow as a crutch.

Nina asked, "Isn't there anything more we can do for him?"

"If we lived in a more advanced time, perhaps more would be capable of rendering medical assistance, but we don't, so all we can do is hope he'll survive," she told Nina.

A moment later a renewed torrent of rain began falling upon everyone, heaping more misery upon combatants on both sides. The axmen were marching forward now at double their previous pace despite the mud, the archers behind them falling back as Yuma's battalion loosed a horrific volley upon them. A number of the pikemen looked over in anticipation as the axmen closed the distance.

"All men, switch to battle formation," Renée shouted.

The pikemen, lined five deep, swung their curved rectangular shields down, and three lines of pikes swept downwards to join the front line's pikes. Within moments the formation had four lines of pikes and a shield wall protecting it. The axmen came on heedless of the mass of pikes awaiting them.

"Front line," Renée bellowed, coming forward along the stream's bank to view the formation's front, "assume kneeling position and embed pikes for impact!"

The men got the message quickly, and the front line fell to one knee and then embedded their pikes in the ground just behind them. The men only just got the pikes up into their properly angled positions when the axmen came upon them. The axmen's front ranks attempted to jump or hack their way through the wall of pikes, just like the swordsmen of the previous three charges had attempted.

The front row of pikemen managed to absorb some of the attack on their row of pikes, several axmen being horrifically impaled. Some axmen hacked or jumped their way into narrow gaps, where most met a similar fate, skewered upon the thrusts of numerous pikemen from further back. Half a dozen particularly daring axmen tried to run up the streambed between the Nadia's swordsmen to Renée 's right and her own formation.

"Commander Renée ," Nina shouted, pointing at the men in alarm.

"I've got them, don't worry!"

Renée descended onto the banks of the streambed, just above the small but building waters flowing past. One axe man charged her and swung down with a powerful swing. Renée deflected the battleaxe blow, and then felled the man with a vicious slash from head to groin. He fell backwards, gushing blood, into the stream's waters as others charged forward into the gap between formations.

Dodging one downwards swing by stepping aside, Renée was forced to parry the attacks of two different axmen at once. Knocking back both battleaxes and their owners with a high horizontal swing, she then slashed in the opposite direction, slipping the blade under the men's shields and across their legs. They fell, grunting in pain and surprise, into the growing stream, dying the waters red as they flailed uselessly against the current and disappeared out of sight downstream.

Her moment of triumph was short-lived, as the third axe man had sprinted forward in an incredible show of bravery. Renée ducked just as he swung for her head, but his axe connected with her steel helmet in a glancing blow. Knocked sideways by the impact, she found herself helmet-less as the axe man raised his battleaxe for one last swing. It never happened, and a second later, after grunting in obvious pain, he fell almost atop her, felled by an arrow.

Renée dodged his falling body and abruptly noticed a wall of water coming down the stream banks right at her. It took an instinctive leap to clear the torrent of water.

"Commander," Nina quailed, sounding distressed.

It took a mere glance for Renée to know why Nina was distressed; Nina was on the opposite bank of the stream with the men, which was dangerously close to overflowing. Nina waved at her frantically as the pikemen repulsed yet another wave of enemies.

"Commander, you can't jump the stream, it's too -," Nina shouted from behind the lines. Nina's next words were cut off in the midst of the torrential rain and booming thunder and lightning overhead.

"What did—"

"I said, you can just go back and," Nina said, at which point a particularly impressive thunderclap covered up whatever Nina was saying.

"I'll just go back to the bridge-"

Renée was about to talk more, but at that very moment the wooden bridge the troops had marched across further upstream was being carried downstream right past her.

"Shit," Renée muttered.

"Renée ," Nadia's voice interjected, "just get to Miria's side. There's nothing you can do!"

A glance was enough to find Nadia leaning in, a hand outstretched. Renée took Nadia's armored hand and was quickly pulled to her feet by the shorter but impressively armored Nadia.

"Come on Renée ," Nadia urged, "the general needs you more than your battalion."

Just over Nadia's shoulder were the heavily armored lines of the swordsmen battalion, which was facing a charge from an incoming wave of twice as many enemy swordsmen.

"Nadia, the battalion-"

Nadia took one glance at the incoming wave of attackers and changed her mind.

"Alright, Renée , stay with me until they're beaten back!"

Yuma's archer battalion loosed a deadly volley just as enemy swordsmen charged the last hundred yards towards Nadia's swordsmen. The volley intercepted the enemy swordsmen in mid-charge, cutting down dozens as others jumped over their fallen comrades. The archers looked on nervously at the fighting a dozen yards away as Nadia's men nearly buckled under the attack.

Renée moved into the thick of the fighting with Nadia, hacking, slashing, parrying and on occasion dodging enemy blows. It was a frenetic, desperate fight, with Nadia hacking one enemy in half while Renée parried the attacks of five separate swordsmen. Renée could see Nadia was rushing over to help when an opportunistic man slashed down from the side.

"Nadia!"

Nadia's left arm had been chopped in two, with the arm having been cut off above the elbow. It looked dire until Nadia spun clockwise, swung the blade, and neatly decapitated the foe as she fell into the battlefield's mud. Renée ran to help Nadia, but nearly half a dozen enemies blocked the way. Nadia meanwhile was having trouble getting up without a second arm, and three swordsmen rushed to press the advantage against her.

Renée decapitated one opponent only to have to back flip away from four simultaneous attacks. Upon landing it was impossible to miss seeing an enemy swordsman pin Nadia's remaining full arm into the mud by impaling it with a longsword. Nadia however had other plans, and with a swift kick knocked her attacker unconscious. However the other enemy swordsmen kept coming towards the struggling Nadia. Nadia was fighting with desperation to stand, but it seemed Nadia's end was nigh.

A sudden flash of movement came, and abruptly six men went knocked down, blood sprayed out in a horrific arc as they hit the ground. Standing above Nadia, looking magnificent in clean armor, was Miria, wearing a look of absolute determination. Even with Miria present the enemy swordsmen didn't hesitate to attack.

Miria de-handed two men behind in a superb rotating sword swing, then spun to cut down three men to the right with a vicious horizontal cut. The other swordsmen scarcely had time to notice this abrupt thinning of their ranks when Miria mercifully decapitated the two screaming men who'd lost their hands. Miria parried one sword attack, and then with brutal efficiency Miria decapitated the remaining three enemies in a nearly 360 degree spin of her blade. The display was utterly awe-inspiring, especially since it'd taken Miria less than five seconds to accomplish all of the moves.

"Retreat, retreat!"

Renée looked past Miria and Nadia to find the enemy swordsmen were running back to the safety of their own lines. However, a second glance found one reason why: Tabitha's Elite Guard had just hacked into the enemy with horrific results. The Elite Guard was beginning to chase the retreating swordsmen when Miria called out.

"Captain Tabitha, help relieve the pressure on Commander Helen's pikemen!"

Tabitha and another seven silver-eyed soldiers instead charged outwards towards the distant enemy formations of reserve infantry. However the Elite Guard changed direction, swords drawn, and accelerated to the left. The enemy pikemen attacking Helen's men spotted their new attackers too late.

The eight claymores smashed into the enemy pikemen formation like a force of nature. Tabitha and Miata, who hit the formation alongside one another, each took out four enemies a piece. With their commander screaming for retreat, the pikemen hastily drew back.

"Not bad," Nadia commented while being dragged to her feet by Miria, "But why are they not deploying the heavy cavalry yet general?"

"They're softening us up for the final blow."


A glance at the battlefield was enough to confirm it was a bad situation from where Miria stood. Axmen and swordsmen were pinning down Helen and Renée 's pikemen battalions on both flanks, while an incoming massed charge of enemy knights were seemingly unaffected by two volleys of arrows showered upon them by Yuma's battalion. The knights closed the final yards as Nadia's swordsmen braced for the attack with an interlocking wall of shields.

The knights hit in a spectacularly mixed way, some of the horses rearing up at the last moment and ditched their riders. Others smashed into the lines, crushing several swordsmen, but were dismounted by the force of impact. A few dozen knights jumped the swordsmen's' lines entirely and were scything their way into the less prepared archers. A young claymore officer in Yuma's battalion charged toward a mace-wielding knight who'd just killed four archers with grisly efficiency.

The silver-eyed warrior deflected his mace at the last moment with an upward swing, and with the next swing, unhorsed the knight, whose dying horse crushed a pair of unlucky archers beneath it. The knight was about to receive the death blow from the claymore when another knight came in swinging a chained mace. Its attached spiked ball whipped into the claymore's helmet, puncturing it horrifically, and almost immediately the claymore crumpled to the horror of the nearby archers.

The victorious knight's triumph was short-lived, as he'd charged right into the sword range of Yuma, who decapitated both the knight and his horse. Yuma attempted to slay the other knight, but was unhorsed herself by his last-ditch defense.

Not waiting for Yuma's defense, Miria turned to Cid and Matilda, "Counter-charge now!"

Cid and Matilda charged forward, followed by two hundred comrades, the hooves of their horses thundering as they passed by her and smashed into a pocket of enemy knights who'd been threatening to break the center in two. Cid hit the front by deflecting a blow from one enemy knight with his shield while wounding another with a quick slash of the longsword.

Tabitha came forward, saluting, "Shall the Elite Guard join in General?"

"Well..."

The battle was not going well. Nearly half of Nadia's men were already dead or dying, and the others were frantically fighting for their lives. Nadia, after having half an arm hacked off, had been replaced as the swordsmen's commander by Renée . Renée was fighting desperately to hold the line with half a dozen claymores and the remaining swordsmen.

Yuma, having dealt with prior threats, was busily using Yoki nearby to heal Nadia and four other maimed claymores no longer fit for combat. Further to the left Helen's pikemen battalion was holding the line, but Nadia's swordsmen were being pushed back too far.

Helen corrected the situation by drawing the pikemen back further, where the gorge was slightly narrower, and where the battalion could form a line with Renée 's remaining swordsmen.

"I want you to-"

"Belay that, belay it," Renée shouted, running forward, "they're sending a thousand men up the ridge to the north of Helen's men."

"Are you sure Commander?"

"As sure as I can be general," Renée replied, pointing in the direction of the hilly northern edge of the Kerouac Gorge.

"Where are they?"

Renée took out a small hand telescope, handed it to Miria, and then pointed. Miria saw the large contingent just beneath the tree-line approaching the ridge of the small mountain above them. The hill descended on the other side and bottomed out a mere hundred yards behind Helen's battalion.

"There's still time to stop them," Renée shouted, sounding desperate.

Miria sighed as she heard Renée 's words, then closed her eyes for a moment.

Tabitha asked, "General, what are your orders?"

Blinking her eyes open at Tabitha's address, Miria responded, "Take the Elite Guard and stop them from flanking our men."

Tabitha grimly motioned seven other claymores forward, but before they left, each took a bow as well as four quivers of arrows. The Elite Guard then began a frenzied climb up the gorge to catch the flankers before they reached the summit...


It was difficult to keep up the pace Natalie had to admit. She had been running across the western plains of central Toulouse for several hours now, and it was wearying her legs terribly. But despite panting like a dying mule, she was still jogging along at good speed.

"Why does this entire distance have to be uphill?"

It was a rhetorical lament, as everyone knew the Kerouac Gorge was a mountain pass. The only saving grace for Natalie's legs was that the climb started on gentle plains. There were other things to constrict her on the way: low-lying marshes, long grass, several herds of cattle, and mud resulting from a horrendous downpour minutes earlier. Her tight-fitting leather stockings were leaking water inside as she ran along a muddy road.

"Ah nuts," Natalie exclaimed, trying to squish the water out of her outfit.

She reached the ridge top to find an incredible sight of the battle beyond. Far in the distance, deep within the Kerouac Gorge's mountainous walls, was a line of battle. Mixed up in it were countless horsemen and infantry, some waving the white pennants of Rabona. Far more were waving the crimson and gold-crowned pennants of King Charles' army however.

Miria's yoki was unmistakable, but it was also being kept tamped down like a light being dimmed. Renée 's was nearby, and Natalie noticed Renée 's yoki was far more stressed out. Then there was a gathering of very weak yokis farthest away, with Yuma's reassuring presence near them.

"Oh no, mom's got ten claymores too wounded for action already?"

Anyone, yoki-sensing or not, could tell the battle was going badly for Rabona's forces. Far in the distance, upon a northern ridge overlooking the battle, was a group of King Charles' forces. Her heartbeat skyrocketed; if those forces hit the rear of her mother's troops, the battle would be over.

Closing her eyes once more, it became possible to sense Captain Tabitha leading up a troop of seven other claymores towards the flanking enemy troops. It would have been easier to notice Tabitha's yoki except for the extreme stress and strength of Miata's yoki. It felt almost as if Miata was disgusted, even puking on the battlefield. But that couldn't be right; Miata, after all, was a well-known butcher of opposition.

Tabitha's yoki lingered by Miata's a little while, then became determined and moved on at top speed. Tabitha's yoki became abruptly flummoxed for a moment.

"Oops," Natalie murmured, realizing that Tabitha might have momentarily sensed her. "I've got to tamp down on my Yoki."

Tabitha's yoki settled down a moment later, and with unmistakable battle fever apparent, six yokis went slamming into an all-out battle with the flanking troops. Miata's yoki read almost as if Miata were sick, but that couldn't be right. Claymores were well-known for many things, but falling ill was one thing no one had ever noticed a claymore becoming.

"Come on Miata," Natalie snapped purposelessly, "mother's counting on you."

Her pointless encouragement did no good, and it had distracted from looking over the battlefield. A few hundred yards away from the ridge upon which Natalie was standing was a large cluster of horsemen. They were surprisingly well-armored, and each one was holding a spear with a large crimson and gold-crowned pennant upon it. The wind was really gusting now, even as the storm had passed, flapping the pennants furiously. It took a moment to realize the crowned man in the middle of the horsemen was royalty.

"King Charles," Natalie hissed.

King Charles was middle-aged, had a graying beard, and also a sizable crown atop his head. Near Charles was a younger, dark-haired, extremely handsome young man, while rounding out those closest to King Charles was a monstrously huge man in thick armor.

Some of the troops near King Charles were moving away now, including what looked to be hundreds of pikemen. Further away from Charles' bodyguards was a group of several hundred archers. Natalie had become so engrossed in figuring out when Charles might be vulnerable she'd neglected to sense for yoki. It was only when she started looking for a stealthy way down the grassy hill to King Charles that it became possible to notice.

Galatea's yoki, along with that of Camilla, were heading straight for her. They were little more than a mile away behind, and as she looked back, they became barely visible. Her stomach clenched in both fear and apprehension. Had she come all this way for nothing? Was it really not to be, and why was she doubting herself now?

Galatea's yoki flickered, almost as if trying to scream, "Wait!"

Charles was so close Natalie could smell his bodyguards' horses, but even as she wavered Galatea and Camilla were putting on a fresh burst of speed, closing the distance at considerable pace. Natalie closed her eyes one last time, sensing the desperation of the remaining claymores in combat.

There should have been 31 yokis, but only 30 were even apparent. Twelve of those were clearly too weak for combat, while seven were engaged in truly ferocious combat on the ridge. That left a mere eleven claymores, aside from Miria, to hold the line of battle with a declining number of men.

"What should I do?" Natalie cried, "I don't know what the right thing to do is!"

She was literally only a few hundred yards from an oblivious King Charles and yet she was paralyzed by indecision. It was in this moment that again remembered Nadia's words.

"Miria loves you, but someday you're going to have to make a decision on your own that she disagrees with. You can't remain Miria's little girl forever Natalie."

"I'm sorry mom, but this is something I've got to do," Natalie apologized.

Mid-way down the slope the handsome young man, who'd become separated from King Charles, had glanced back, up the hill. Natalie froze in place, not daring to ruin the element of surprise. He looked away; seemingly convinced he'd seen a phantom in the long grass. The young man was escorted by only a few bodyguards, but he wasn't the target.

King Charles, who was Natalie's target, had just split up his bodyguards, with the vast majority going on ahead towards the battlefield. There seemed to be no better opportunity to take the king down, and once he was out of the way, Natalie reasoned, her mother would win.

Natalie pushed out far to the left of King Charles' bodyguards, keeping a low profile, concealed by the abundance of long grass blowing in the wind. It was difficult to cover the distance quickly enough, as Galatea and Camilla were steadily closing in. She crouched behind a large boulder near the most distant of the King's bodyguards and waited.

Her adrenaline climbed as Galatea and Camilla's silhouettes cleared the top of the hill in the corner of Natalie's eye. There wasn't much time to wait, even though Galatea and Camilla's yokis were now moving towards her at a much slower pace. No doubt, Natalie thought, due to having to conceal themselves as they moved. Natalie was just about to make her move against King Charles when she felt shock coursing its way through Renée 's yoki. There could only be one reason for it.

"Ah hell," Natalie muttered a little too loudly, "mom's going to know now."

"Who's there?"

The nearest guard called out uncertainly, sounding uncertain of whether there was anyone nearby. With no choices left now, she unsheathed her sword, spun around, and leapt into the attack.


"The Elite Guard's just engaged the enemy at close range general," Renée stated flatly.

"So this is it, this is how King Charles intends for us to die," Miria sighed.

"We haven't lost yet general," Renée pointed out.

"No, and we won't if I can help it, even without the Elite Guard's help," Miria declared.

Everywhere she looked it was a battle of bloody desperation, aside from the right flank, where Renée 's former battalion was pushing off another attack with ease. They were protected from the enemy knights by the waters of the gorge's stream, which had been enlarged by the now-fading storm overhead. As it faded, so had the waters, allowing just enough clearance for a claymore to get across.

"Get me every claymore in your battalion," Miria ordered Renée , "and I'll get every claymore in Helen's battalion, and we'll hold the center."

"Yes general," Renée acknowledged, saluting before running off.

Miria ran left to Helen's pikemen battalion, finding Helen screaming obscenities at a crowd of enemy knights fearfully approaching the battalion's right flank.

Helen screamed, "Let's go assholes, who want to die first?"

When the knights held back from charging through the gap between Helen's battalion and the heavy cavalry holding the center, Helen responded by extending her right arm and cutting down four knights in a single horizontal slash.

"You bastards are so pathetic, my dead grandmother could fight better than you," Helen taunted.

Eight knights charged forward, and Helen promptly de-horsed half of them, although the other four forced Helen to actually parry their blows before she killed them. Miria was practically on top of Helen when a squad of archers plugged the gap and Helen turned to salute.

"Miria," Helen saluted in an only half-reasonable imitation of military discipline, "have you come to help out?"

"Only if I'm absolutely needed Commander. Helen, I need to give over your three claymore subordinates to my command. I'm gathering all remaining claymores from the pikemen battalions to hold the center," she explained to a grim-looking Helen.

"That desperate huh," Helen commented, "fine, I don't need them to hold the line, we're doing just fine with that. Cantarella, Rosette, and Marianne," Helen shouted, at which three claymores appeared promptly and saluted, "you're to assemble with general Miria and help hold the center."

"Of course ma'am," they answered as one.

It took only a few moments of leading the three claymores to the right to find Renée with twin pigtailed Alexandra and long-ponytailed Nina in tow.

"Alright girls," Renée addressed the five lower-ranked girls, your duty is to hold the center to your last breath. The general will only be entering the fray as our absolute last reserve."

Miria wished them well, "Good luck ladies."

"Thanks general," Alexandra grinned for a moment, then blanched at the piles of bodies and fighting in the bloody muck just a few dozen yards away.

The five claymores turned and charged forward into the fray, where their impact was immediate. Nina rushed into battle, where upon arrival she cut down a knight attempting to kill Galk, who was busily parrying the spear thrusts of a mounted knight.

"I'm not certain this is going to stop them general," Renée commented. "I've got to go back to my battalion in a minute, or else the men will begin to panic."

Renée took out a hand telescope and observed something behind the enemy's lines, "Shit, just what we needed, King Charles is sending in the last reserves, three hundred pikemen by the looks of it. Behind that he's still got a battalion of archers and I'd guess an entire company of his Royal Guard just waiting for a crack at us."

"How far away are the pikemen?"

"Best guess is five minutes," Renée replied, "And then we'll really have some problems, even if you are forced to start fighting. Shouldn't we-"

"Quiet," Miria hushed Renée , looking behind them.

Renée whispered, "What is it?"

"I...never mind, for a moment it felt like we were being watched."

"I've already had the entire gorge scouted," Renée replied, looking at the worsening center, which was being pushed steadily further back by the huge mass of enemy knights.

"Well then, best off to your battalion Commander."

Renée let out a shocked gasp, and then looked down the gorge towards the enemy army.

"What is it Renée ?"

"General," Renée said, grimacing, "Natalie's coming towards us from behind enemy lines!"


"Father, it appears your victory is coming," Philippe told his bearded father, King Charles, who was astride a massive chestnut-colored warhorse next to General Davout.

King Charles smiled appreciatively back, "There, you see General Davout," his father said, slapping the huge general good-naturedly on a shoulder, "there is karma in this world."

"Yes," Davout remarked gruffly while observing the battle with a hand telescope, "it's about time those silver-eyed demons died for destroying half our army."

Philippe could make out, against the outline of his father and General Davout, the marching profiles of several hundred pikemen marching at double-time towards the battle.

"Let's see that silver-eyed demon beat us this time," his father laughed, "Royal Guard, prepare to move forward! We shall give no quarter and ask none!"

A distant movement on the hill to the east caught Philippe's eye while his father and General Davout continued onwards without him.

A Royal Guardsman asked, "Something the matter your Highness?"

"I thought I saw something out on the hill behind us."

The Royal Guardsman turned to look, but the effort was rendered futile by a distant, blinding flash of lightning from the fading storm.

"I don't believe there's anything out there your Highness," the Guardsman concluded, "We'd best catch up to his Majesty's party."

His father and General Davout, escorted by ten men on each side, were trotting along; quickly approaching the reserve archer battalion. Many of the archers were stretching in the moist, muddy field as the sun's rays reappeared.

A guard screamed out ahead of them, falling from his horse, his armored side gushing blood. Next to the guard, far out on the left side of the King's guards, was a claymore wearing a navy-blue leather outfit and wielding a huge sword.

"It's a silver-eyed witch," Captain von Mannstein screamed, "kill her!"

"Oh god," the Guardsman next to him muttered, "The rest of the Royal Guard has gone on ahead!"

The comment was painfully right on, as a mere twenty members of the Royal Guard were around the King, with the eighty others galloping on past the archers and out of earshot. The curly-haired but petite claymore gripped her sword firmly, awaiting the attack of two charging Royal Guardsmen. The silver-eyed girl jumped skywards as they attempted to spear her, and in a spectacular 360 degree turn, the claymore slashed down both men before landing awkwardly.

"Your highness," Captain von Mannstein shouted to him, "we should get back to the archers!"

"Right you are," he responded, and the two of them, along with five other Royal Guardsmen, galloped towards the safety of the archer battalion two hundred yards away.

"Come back you cowards," General Davout shouted as the silver-eyed witch took down yet another Royal Guardsman.

"You can't beat her fighting like that," Captain von Mannstein shouted back at the receding figure of General Davout.

Davout didn't have time to respond, but instead was forced to parry a blow from the witch in desperation, as most of the guards were dead, and the others were beginning to flee. Davout parried one blow with the flat of his blade, but was knocked back. The claymore tried a different course, and promptly sliced through the head of the Davout's horse. The horse's head detached with a sickening crunch, its body crumpling to the ground with Davout while its head flew elsewhere.

Davout shouted to his father, "Your Majesty, run for your life!"

Davout didn't get a second longer, as the petite warrior ran Davout through with her sword a moment later as Davout attempted to slash her from where he was pinned underneath the horse.

"Father, come on," he shouted to his bearded father, who was still near Davout, appearing to ready himself for battle.

Grudgingly, his father the king turned around, escorted by four Royal Guardsmen, and began to move towards the sheltering ranks of the archer battalion.

The witch didn't give them time to escape though, but instead cut off the path of escape, wounding one valiant guard and knocking unconscious another with a strong blow with the flat of her blade.

There was a last moment, when his father's eyes met his own, when an understanding came between them. It barely lasted, as his father was cut down, crashing onto the ground, dead.

He turned to the archer battalion making ready nearby, "Shoot the bitch!"

"But your highness," an archer officer objected, "two of our men are still-"

"They're going to be dead any second, fire anyways," he told the hesitant officer.

The female witch's chest was heaving in exhaustion now as she just barely deflected a surviving Royal Guardsman's sword swing. The man overreached though, and he was hit by a reflexive swing from the petite warrior and fell off his horse, wounded but still alive. He glanced over at the archer battalion while the other Royal Guardsman scurry for cover as five hundred archers put arrows on their strings. The archers pulled the bows taut and took aim.

The witch barely had time to start running away when five hundred bows let loose. Her body crumpled to the ground as dozens of arrows struck home into her back, limbs, and even head. It took everyone a moment to register their victory before an angry cheer rang out.

"We got the witch!"


Two figures were watching this extraordinary development from a mountaintop not far away. One of them was far taller than the other, and spoke in deep resonant tones.

"Oh no, we've got to do something," he exclaimed.

"You promised me when we left Rabona that-"

"This isn't the time for our promise," the man snapped at the smaller, hooded woman. "That was Miria's favorite that just got shot. If we don't intervene now, there will be nothing left of Rabona or any of the other claymores."

"Alright," the woman relented, "we'll go and do what we can."


"Renée , get off of me," Miria sobbed while Renée held Miria back.

"We can't let you go to Natalie, we've still people's lives counting on you," Renée pleaded.

Miria reacted by flinging Renée off with an almost effortless move of her arm. Renée landed badly, hitting her head repeatedly and rolling down the hill until she found herself staring up at a shocked Helen.

"Come on, we've got to hold her back Renée ," Helen gasped while hauling her up.

There was a sudden surge in yoki coming from Miria, and one glance was enough to see why. A pair of black and white-striped wings many times Miria's height spread out of Miria's back. Each wing was beautiful but had dangerously long, sharp feathers. The sight was made all the more breathtaking by the faint sunlight falling upon Miria through breaks in the clouds. Miria's armor was glimmering while Miria's golden, snake-like eyes were welling with tears.

Miria began flapping the wings, at which point Renée rushed towards Miria with Helen in a last-ditch attempt to stop her. Miria began running forward, and just a moment after she lifted off they latched onto her legs, but to no avail. Miria ascended over the men and claymores on the battlefield, drawing a few eyes skyward. It was when Miria began accelerating forward with a powerful wing-beat that their grip upon Miria's legs slackened. The ground was over a hundred feet below, and when another wing-beat came, Renée nearly fell along with Helen.

"Miria," Helen gasped, "help us sis!"

It was too late, and they both fell at a horrific speed.

"Helen, it's been good having you as a sister."

Helen replied while steadily drifting further away in her fall, crying, "Same for you too Renée ."

Then the ground came closer, and then was obscured by some low-lying fog, and suddenly the last thing Renée saw were the horrified faces of pikemen below.


"Is she dead Captain von Mannstein?"

Captain Mannstein was standing over the arrow-riddled witch's body, which was bleeding all over and had stilled recently. Abruptly the petite witch gave a shudder and hacked up blood.

Mannstein smiled at him, "No, but she's nearly there Prince Philippe."

"Cut off her head, I want it as a trophy to avenge my father," Philippe ordered.

Mannstein raised his sword over the claymore, who was gasping badly and bleeding from arrow wounds on her back, neck, legs and head. Mannstein abruptly gasped in shock, slumping over upon being impaled by giant black feather through his back and out of his chest. A number of the Royal Guardsmen and archers cried out as a large shadow descended. A claymore officer in spectacular armor with black and white wings dropped down before the witch's body. Several dozen men began running away at her approach.

"Come back you cowards," he bellowed at them, "and attack her!"

Nobody even inched forward as the angelic demon embraced the horribly wounded witch.

"I'm sorry Natalie," the angelic demon continued, its snake-like eyes crying tears of remorse.

The girl, evidently named Natalie, gasped, "I just wanted to be a good daughter and help and-"

"Hush," the demon said back, "save your strength dear."

"But..."

"I know, you were the best daughter I could ever ask for Natalie," the demoness sympathized.

"Miria," a third voice interjected.

Philippe was shocked to see a blond-haired nun audaciously approaching the winged demon.

"Miria, you've got to turn back," the nun pleaded while a coif-haired claymore arrived, gasping for breath beside the nun.

"That's Phantom Miria," a Royal Guardsman whispered fearfully.

"Natalie," Miria said, trying to awaken the slumping Natalie, "Natalie!"

Miria sobbed uncontrollably for several moments while holding the slumped body of her daughter close, then turned towards them wearing an expression of pure anger.

"Miria, you've got to stop," the nun said, holding out a large claymore.

The nun ran forward as Miria's features began to change, arteries bulging through Miria's skin. The claymores ran alongside Miria, but were abruptly sent sprawling by Miria's two wings, each landing awkwardly and unconscious.

"Run for your lives," an archer shouted, and five hundred men, including Philippe, all followed that advice as Miria's body began growing exponentially.


The only thing Miria seemed to feel was a pure, raw anger as she advanced upon the enemy archers, many of them screaming in panic. She slashed out with a hand, not even bothering to use a sword. Surprisingly her hand was now composed of with several long, vicious claws. Its length and size were useful as she slashed five men, but it was not enough to sate her burning anger.

Miria took a moment to gently pick up Natalie, who oddly seemed smaller and farther away in every moment. Miria noticed her hand had elongated, her arm turning white as it added black stripes. But Miria's only care in the world was treating Natalie's body with reverence, which she scooped up gently and hugged close to her chest.

There were bits of navy-blue cloth still clinging to her arm, but Miria paid this no mind. Instead a dozen archers had foolishly decided to shoot her. Her response was brutally effective: she shot them with rock-hard white and black feathers from her wings. The three dozen enemies saw their bodies annihilated, which was odd, given the scale of what Miria thought her wing feathers to be.

Their bodies had not so much been shot as had been gutted, with gaping holes opening up in all of them, the feathers embedding deep into the ground behind. The remaining archers were screaming now, running everywhere they could. Miria regarded these murderers with a passionate disdain, and leapt into action.

One archer was cowering nearby, but she ignored him; a coward, after all, could never have shot her dear Natalie. With an easy bound, she jumped and landed in the midst of fleeing archers. Miria noticed she'd landed with a tremendous crash, but she ignored the cries of pain from below and focused on the frantic men fleeing before her. She shot even more with her wing's lethal, fast-moving feathers.

"Not enough," Miria growled, her fury still surging, "not nearly enough. Every single one who helped murder Natalie is going to perish here today!"

The slaughter was enthralling, and her body seemed in a heady rush, the pleasure winding its way up her spine. A dozen archers in desperation unsheathed their swords and turned to face her, aware they couldn't outrun her. She obliged them with great pleasure, killing them all with a single slash of her wickedly spiked tail. Their bodies fell to the ground, cut clean in half.

Everywhere it seemed there were more lives to take in revenge for Natalie's passing. Miria kept Natalie's body close, crying in both remorse and the pleasure of taking everything from those who'd taken everything from her. She paused to find the cowardly archer from before running for his life. Miria took off and quickly caught up, thinking that perhaps she'd behead him with a snap of her jaws.

He curled up, trembling in the fetal position. Miria thought of picking him up, but given his small size that'd be too annoying. She opted to shred him with the wickedly curved claws of her free right hand. Miria swung the right arm with vicious speed, but suddenly something stopped it just short. There was a blond-haired, silver-eyed woman blocking the strike with a sword.

"What are you doing?"

"Do you not recognize your own friend anymore Miria?"

The woman was dressed in tight-fitting black leather, much like the uniforms they'd had in the days before the fall of the Organization. The woman seemed very small, with short blond hair cropped just above the shoulders and familiar silver-green eyes.

"Claire?"

"You have to stop this Miria and turn back," Claire warned.

"Stop what?"

Claire shouted, "Have you lost your senses Miria? You've nearly awakened; just look at the carnage all around you!"

Miria followed Claire's pointing to see hundreds of bloodied bodies everywhere throughout the mouth of the Kerouac Gorge. Some were chopped in two, others were horribly maimed beyond recognition, and there were dozens with enormous holes or sharpened feathers embedded in them. Blood was flowing downhill from a huge pile of horrifically butchered corpses past Claire and into a small pond nearby.

"Ahh, no, no, I can't have, I can't," Miria cried.

Staring back at Miria in the pond's reflection was not something she recognized, but rather an enormous creature. It looked a lot like an enormous predatory cat, its hide a lily-white, and its sides and back marked with beautiful black stripes. It had all four limbs upon the ground, each with a massive cat-like paw and large, lethal claws. The creature's head was a mix of a cat and a woman's features, and featured enormous, sharp teeth.

Sprouting from this reflection's back were a pair of massive white-and-black feathered wings, not unlike an enlarged eagle wings, only with longer, sharper feathers. Emanating from the creature's behind was a beautifully proportioned tail complemented with a half dozen spikes jutting out from its end. The spikes, much like the paws, were stained red with blood.

Miria knew as she stared at the lethally beautiful, lean, built-for-speed monster what she'd done in her blind rage.

"Just kill me, there's no point in living if Natalie's gone. I've failed as a mother," Miria cried. Claire's eyes narrowed at the word "mother".

"But she's not dead yet Miria. Just look at your paw," Claire instructed.

A mere glance was enough to find no sign of Natalie's body, which caused Miria's heart to race.

"You didn't drop her Miria. You infused your yoki into Natalie's body, and right now I can barely detect her yoki deep within you. If you want to see Natalie again, you're going to have to synchronize your yoki with mine while Raki pulls Natalie out."

"He's going to do what?"

A second glance at the reflection found an elongated limb wrapping innumerable times around her four, pinning them in place. The limb eventually reached back to a large, well-muscled man standing on a pair of elongated legs, his coarse, spiky brown-blond hair and face immediately recognizable. He was standing right behind the behind of the creature; her behind.

"Oh no he's not, he's not-"

Raki reached inside with a free hand, and abruptly Miria felt something move within her.

"Claire, stop this," Miria protested.

"I've got her," Raki shouted.

Claire walked forward, putting two hands on Miria's face and stared into her eyes.

"If you want this over as quickly as I do, then synchronize your yoki with mine," Claire instructed, "and Natalie will live."

Miria followed Claire's instructions, although the pain and loss of pleasure from pulling back were unbearable. Slowly but surely Miria felt her hips heave, the yoki dropping and then something small left her body. She didn't dare look, as Claire had not uttered a word. It took several minutes, but eventually Miria was staring Claire in the face and looking at her own human-form hands.

Miria turned around as Claire let go of the embrace to find an unconscious, slime-covered Natalie breathing deeply, her body nude in the grass. Raki was nearby, not quite able to look Miria in the eye.

"Thank you," Miria said softly.

Raki blushed, looking awkwardly away as Miria clutched the unconscious Natalie.

"Thank you so-
"It's alright," Raki said defensively, "Claire, tell me you brought a change of clothes."

"Yes," Claire replied, "here."

Miria then noticed that both she and Natalie were quite nude. However, there was one feature in all that nudity that arrested Miria's eyes as she stared at her own kneeling reflection. Both her belly and Natalie's belly no longer had any scars upon them.

Raki began cringing at the slime covering one arm, "Ugh, I cannot believe I did that."

"Just don't tell anyone where your hand was," Miria snapped, feeling very awkward.

"Or else," Claire threatened.

"Of course not," Raki placated.

Miria got dressed in a black-leather outfit with a familiar skirt and long leg and arm stockings.

"This seems familiar," Miria mentioned as they both began to clean the slime off lightly breathing, blissfully sleeping Natalie.

Captain Matilda ran up, breathless, "Oh thank goodness. I thought we'd lost you for sure."

Matilda was taller even than Galatea, who could be seen unconscious nearby.

"General," Matilda saluted, "we've broken the enemy center and won the battle!"

Miria sighed in utter relief until a horrible memory suddenly popped up.

"Where are Renée and Helen?"

Matilda stiffened, "General...I'm afraid I have some bad news."