Session 24

"You must react faster, Page," Tristan said, his voice echoing slightly from behind his helmet as he swung his mace at J.J. "You continue to hesitate when you cannot afford to."

J.J. swayed backward and jabbed his halberd at Tristan, growling in frustration as the knight batted the attack away before advancing. J.J. leaped ten feet into the air and landed a few yards away, trying to put some distance between himself and his attacker. Tristan shook his head in disappointment as he continued his inexorable, plodding advance.

The pair were sparring in front of Susumu's garage, but unlike their normal training sessions, they were both wearing their Rider armor, with Tristan clad in his blue plate armor and J.J. protected by the silver armor of Paladin Class. Once he had recovered from his fight with Lawrence, Tristan had asked to test the abilities of J.J.'s newest form. Evidently, Tristan was impressed, as he'd immediately insisted that J.J. devote as much time as possible towards mastering Paladin Class, to the exclusion of his other forms. At first, J.J. had complied without complaint, but this was now the fifth straight day that Tristan had dragged him off for training, and it was beginning to take a toll on his body. He was constantly sore, both from the accumulated bruises and the strain of constantly training with the armor on. Much to his annoyance, he also hadn't had time to work on his novel, or even patrol the city for Shards. Yet Tristan kept insisting they train.

A hard strike to J.J.'s shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts, and J.J. grunted before stumbling away, gripping his arm while he sucked in breath through his teeth. Tristan shook his head again and sighed, straightening up.

"Focus. You are not using your form to its full potential, page," Tristan chastised him. "Paladin Class is magnificent. I daresay it is superior to any of your other classes, and once you master it, I would recommend using it as your main battle class. It would save you from needlessly shifting forms in battle, as you are wont to do."

J.J. scowled. For some reason, he almost felt insulted by Tristan's comment, as it seemed to be insinuating that his other forms paled in comparison to Paladin Class, almost to the point of uselessness, which in turn seemed to suggest the fighting style he'd relied on for months was now useless. Yet, despite Paladin Class's supposed power, he still had yet to land a solid hit on the knight while in his transformed state, which just added to his frustration. "Praise be to the White Seraph, then, for she hath delivered from on high a form that shall deliver me from sucking in battle," J.J. said bitingly.

"I hope that you are not sincerely directing praise towards one of those damned constructs," Tristan warned him, lowering his voice to a slight growl. "It would be unwise to trust them."

"I never said that I trusted her either," J.J. replied. He decided to seize the opportunity to keep Tristan talking, hoping to enjoy a quick break. At the same time, he urged his brain to get in gear and work out a plan. If he bought enough time, maybe he could figure out a way to finally land a solid hit on Tristan. "I trust her even less than the Black Seraph. At least we kind of have an idea about what he wants. The White Seraph is still an enigma, and that worries me far more. She says that she wants to stop her brother, and if that's true then we're at least pursuing the same goal, but I can't help but wonder if she has her own stake in this that goes beyond altruism."

"It is wise of you to remain suspicious, but I do not believe it is worth the effort to attempt to divine her intentions," Tristan replied. "Mere speculation will not produce results. I would recommend you focus on what we know shall defeat the Seraphs – martial strength. If we are strong enough to best them in battle, all other problems become moot."

"Do they, though?" J.J. countered thoughtfully. "I mean… what do we really know about them? Let's put the White Seraph aside for the moment. What about the Black Seraph? Suppose we took everything Agnar said as truth, and he just wants to restore Almencia. What does that really mean? Would he revive the entire population? Rebuild the island? How would he do that? Is there some magical artifact he could use to do that? What if-?"

"This is why I said speculation is fruitless, page," Tristan insisted, a slight growl once more edging its way into his voice. "Perfect what can be perfected. Attempting to guess the motives of our opponents will drive you mad, as there are infinite possibilities."

From their left, Susumu laughed, sipping a glass of lemonade as he sat in one of the lawn chairs, watching the pair. "I think it's the opposite for J.J., Tristan," Susumu piped up. "Not thinking about it would drive him mad. J.J.'s the type who's not happy unless he has all the facts."

"You're not wrong," J.J. admitted with a shrug. Tristan lowered his head slightly, pressing his palm to his faceplate in exasperation.

"Right now, I do not wish for you to think. Act," Tristan insisted, banging his shield with his mace before dropping into a fighting stance again.

J.J. bit back a complaint as he dropped into a fighting stance as well, holding his halberd in front of him as he crept forward, looking for an opening in Tristan's defense. He had noticed that while the large shield protected most of the knight's front, it didn't completely protect his legs, and he decided to try and exploit that. He darted forward, delivering a slash that reached beyond the shield, as he tried to hook the halberd around Tristan's ankle so he could trip him. Tristan, however, realized what J.J. was doing and slammed his shield into the ground, causing the shaft of J.J.'s weapon to bounce off the edge of his shield harmlessly before he could reach Tristan's leg.

Because of the recoil, J.J. was thrown slightly off-balance, and Tristan took the opportunity to reach out and strike at J.J. again. This time, however, J.J. responded before the counter came, raising his halberd in a defensive position. The mace bounced off the haft, but Tristan pressed the attack, slamming two more heavy attacks on J.J.'s weapon to keep him from recovering. J.J. backpedaled, jabbing at Tristan while trying to gain some distance. At last, the knight let him go. At best, the exchange was a draw, and J.J. knew he was lucky to even get that much.

"Better," Tristan praised him.

"Thanks," J.J. said grudgingly. "But still not good enough, right?"

"Sadly, no," Tristan confirmed.

J.J. sighed softly. Off to the side, Susumu sat forward a bit, folding his hands together and resting his chin on them as he continued to watch.

"This class is good, you're right about that," J.J. said slowly. "But this isn't how I'd fight in an actual battle. You have a clear edge over me, and Paladin class isn't strong enough to overcome the physical stat difference. If this was an actual fight, I'd switch to a different form to get an advantage."

Tristan lowered his head slightly, and J.J. could almost feel Tristan's annoyed expression from behind his helmet. "Then that merely means that you lack experience. With enough training, you would be able to defeat me with any weapon. And the only way you shall accumulate the experience is through constant practice."

"Yeah, and I don't disagree that I need more work. In all my forms, not just this one," J.J. agreed quickly, and Tristan seemed slightly mollified by the admission. "However… right now, since I don't have the experience necessary to beat you, I have to compensate in other ways. And as Susumu said, I'm better at out-thinking my opponent. Would you mind if, for the last couple minutes of today's session, we sparred one more time, but you allowed me to use any class I wished?"

Tristan hesitated, seeming uncomfortable with the idea. "I… do not see how that is conducive to helping you master Paladin Class," he said slowly.

"It's not, but if you want me to practice how I'm actually going to fight, this'd be the best way to do it, right?" J.J. pointed out. "If one thing wasn't working, I'd try something else."

Tristan hedged for a few more moments, before sighing and raising his shield. "Very well," he said slowly. "Attempt to strike me however you please. Know, however, that I shall not hold back either, if this is truly meant to be a simulation of battle."

"Of course," J.J. nodded. He knew Tristan was probably going to knock him around some more, but he was getting frustrated. At least with this little last-minute spar, he could blow off a bit of steam. He figured he could think of it as a scrimmage in a sport – constantly scrimmaging wouldn't improve a person's performance, but occasionally doing so would help gauge how much someone had learned, and also serve to point out flaws that they needed to work on in an actual situation. Plus, it was good for morale. At least, that's what he was telling himself. He made a silent promise not to keep asking for this, though, as Tristan did seem miffed by the request.

The two stared at each other silently for a long moment, before J.J. put his hand on his black D-former and gave it a quick spin. "Reroll! Class: Mage!" his D-former shouted. He was engulfed in an opal crystal as chimes echoed in the air. As soon as he began transforming, Tristan rushed him, but J.J. had been expecting the knight to charge. He immediately kicked off from the ground, using his superior mobility to get a bit of distance, and as soon as the crystal surrounding him disappeared, he pointed his staff at Tristan and released a stream of freezing water at the knight. Tristan immediately halted and raised his shield, but J.J. kept up the attack, aiming specifically at Tristan's legs and the bottom of his shield.

When the attack was finished, Tristan's lower half was caked in ice. The knight scowled and began pulling his shield out of the ice, but before he could, J.J. grit his teeth and shot a fireball towards the knight. The flame connected with the ice, releasing a mist that engulfed the area around Tristan, blinding him. J.J. grinned, putting his hand on his blue D-former next.

"Reroll! Class: Thief!" the D-former shouted, and as a saxophone blared, J.J. was surrounded by a blue die, which turned his staff into a pair of daggers and morphed his black tunic into a blue jacket before he hit the ground. He tried to take advantage of Tristan's predicament by charging him, but Tristan had recovered faster than he expected. As the blue die around him faded, he nearly ran headlong into Tristan's spiked shield. He ducked out of the way, skidding around behind Tristan to deliver a pair of slashes with both hands, but Tristan anticipated the move and simply blocked the blows before swinging his mace at J.J., who ducked under the attack and stepped back.

"Predictable," Tristan warned him. "You should-!"

"Reroll! Class: Warrior!" J.J.'s Driver shouted, interrupting Tristan as a ruby die enveloped him and war drums played. The holographic crystal collided with Tristan, throwing the knight backward and breaking his guard. As close as he was, J.J. was able to follow up without worrying about Warrior Class's reduced speed. He brought his hammer up just as the ruby die faded around him, and he slammed it into Tristan's shield. The knight was barely able to block the blow, but he let out a sharp cry as his arm went limp. J.J. was about to follow it up with another attack, but he hesitated at the shout of pain.

"Sorry!" J.J. cried quickly, lowering his hammer. "Are you alright?"

"My wrist… is a bit strained," Tristan admitted, rubbing it through his armor and holding his hand up. "Let us desist for now."

"Right, sorry about that," J.J. said again. He'd meant to fight aggressively, but he hadn't been trying to hurt Tristan.

"Are you satisfied, then, page?" Tristan asked gruffly, sounding more than a little irritated.

"Yeah. Thanks for indulging me," J.J. said, holding his hand out to help Tristan up. Off to the side, Susumu grinned.

"From where I was standing, that was a lot better," Susumu commented. "You weren't wasting time hesitating; you came up with a good plan on the fly and executed it almost immediately."

"Of course he did. He is more familiar with those forms," Tristan grumbled. "Thus, there is not a pressing need to train with them as there is with Paladin Class."

"I… don't know if that's it," J.J. said slowly. "It's more like… since I knew I had other options available, I didn't feel like I was shackled and forced to fight a certain way."

"You've always been more of a cerebral fighter," Susumu explained. "You approach a fight like it's a chess match, and the more pieces you have at your disposal, the more moves you can make."

"Yes, but when those pieces are removed from the board, you panic and hesitate," Tristan countered as he wrapped his wrist in a bandage, having already demorphed. "You will not always be able to fight as you please."

"You're right," J.J. said absently. "But fighting with limited options is what you're good at. Maybe I should be focusing more on my own strengths. And if knowledge is the source of my power, then doing more research in my downtime might not be a bad idea either…."

"Page!" Tristan said sharply, snapping J.J. out of his thoughts.

"Sorry," J.J. said quickly. "I'm not going to shirk training or anything. I'm just thinking about what I could do to contribute more, since… I'm really not that good of a fighter, and I'm not getting much better," he said, looking away.

"That is why-!" Tristan began, but a look from Susumu made the words die in his mouth. Gritting his teeth, he turned back to J.J. "I suppose… so long as it does not interfere with training, conducting research into the nature of our foe is not a poor course to pursue. However, I must insist that you continue our training sessions as well."

J.J.'s face brightened, and he nodded. "Of course!" he agreed quickly. "Let's see… if it's information about the Seraphs, then the best place to start might be the Marks family mansion. I'll have to see if Gwen would be willing to lend me the key…."

J.J. was aware of Tristan giving him a look of consternation, but neither man said anything. He knew that he would have to be careful not to renege on his promise to Tristan, as the knight did have a point – mastering Paladin Class was indeed important. But in the meantime, it couldn't hurt to also take advantage of Tristan's presence and devote some time to research while he had that luxury… could it?

The next day, J.J. approached Gwen and asked her to borrow the key to her mansion. While she was initially surprised, when he explained what it was for, she handed over the key, but she warned him that he was unlikely to find anything. She was probably right, and he knew it, but he was still of the opinion that he didn't know that until he checked.

When he arrived at the mansion, he unlocked the door and stepped inside the deserted building cautiously. He was equally wary of both mundane threats like squatters and thieves, and supernatural threats like Shards or even the Fool or Agnar showing up to ransack the place. Thankfully, a quick sweep of the area assured him that he was alone. Relieved that the mansion was still secure, he headed into the library.

J.J.'s boots crunched on the broken glass and scatted debris as he approached the bookshelf. He ran his fingers over the old, dusty books with an almost reverent expression on his face. He'd been drawn to the ancient volumes since he first saw them, and now that he had free access to them, he felt a jolt of excitement run through him. If he'd had the time, he would have immediately grabbed one of the classics – perhaps the Adventures of Robin Hood or the Complete Works of William Shakespeare – and he had to restrain himself and remind himself that he was here to work. A harder expression settled over his face as he began to browse the titles.

Most of the books seemed to be of little value, as he'd expected, but he picked a couple that looked promising – the Catalogue of Alchemical Wonders, the Complete Genealogy of Ancient European Nobility, and the Guide to Legendary Medieval Arms and Armour all caught his attention.

With his books in hand, J.J. walked over to a faded leather chair and spent a few moments brushing bits of glass and wood off the seat before settling into it with a content sigh. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that the window was broken, but thankfully the day wasn't too cold, so he was comfortable where he was. He reached over and closed the drapes before picking up the Catalogue of Alchemical Wonders. Once it was open on his lap, he dove into his work.

To both his delight and frustration, the book was genuinely ancient, to the point where the author used Middle English. It was encouraging that he'd managed to get his hands on such an old book, but he was also annoyed that he had to slow down and translate the unfamiliar dialect. Worse, the book was handwritten, and parts of it were smudged and illegible, so he had to do a fair bit of guesswork. Yet, despite the slow pace and difficulties in reading the book, J.J. felt almost giddy.

He was almost unaware of the passage of time, though he did pause in his work from time to time to relieve himself, and when he got hungry, he wolfed down the sandwich he had brought with him. However, he was so absorbed in studying the book that his focus was only interrupted when he became dimly aware of an engine rumbling outside. J.J. blinked in surprise, as most people in town tended to avoid the mansion, so he hadn't expected visitors. He read to the end of the paragraph before mentally marking his spot. He then pushed aside the drapes and peered out the window.

The metallic blue of Tristan's bike caught his eye, and J.J. relaxed. He returned to the chair as he listened to the knight's heavy footsteps on the stone stairs outside before the sound changed to the loud squeaking protests of the wooden floors of the mansion. J.J. looked up from the end of the page as Tristan walked into the library, wearing a thoroughly irritated scowl.

"What are you doing, page?" Tristan asked as he walked into the library, frowning at the stack of books piled up next to the armchair.

"Reading," J.J. stated the obvious, glancing up again with a faint grin to assure that knight that he was kidding. "I take it that Gwen passed along the message that I was going to do some research at her mansion today?"

"She did. It would have been appreciated had you informed me as well," Tristan scowled at him, folding his arms over his chest.

"Oh… yeah, I should have," J.J. agreed sheepishly. "Sorry, it slipped my mind. I was looking forward to checking out the library here, and I didn't think to let you know what I was doing. That's my fault. I'm glad you were smart enough to check with Gwen, though, so at least it worked out."

Despite his apology, Tristan continued to glower at him. J.J.'s smile faded, and he tilted his head curiously at Tristan, wondering what else was bothering him. The knight remained silent for an uncomfortably long time before quietly asking, "Did you also not think to look at the time?"

"I… did not," J.J. admitted, pulling out his phone and flipping it on. His eyes widened as he saw that it was past two-thirty. Usually, Tristan wanted to meet him for training at one. He buried his face in his hand with a sharp sigh. "I'm really screwing up today, aren't I? I'm really sorry, Tristan. I honestly didn't realize how late it was."

Tristan continued to stare at him before asking quietly, "Are you truly dedicated to improving yourself, page? From your recent actions, I cannot conclude that you are taking your duties as a Kamen Rider seriously."

J.J.'s expression slowly shifted from embarrassment to annoyance as he looked up, his hand resting on the face of the book. "Excuse me?" he asked in a low voice.

"I shall never chastise you over your personal diversions when you do not have prior engagements," Tristan said, folding his arms over his chest. "However, when you neglect your training to pursue frivolous amusements such as these…" He motioned towards the pile of books at J.J.'s feet before giving him a pointed look.

"What, you think I'm doing this for fun?" J.J. asked. He was torn between contemptuous amusement and irritation at Tristan's assumption that he was blowing the knight off to do whatever he wanted.

"What other conclusion am I to draw?" Tristan asked simply. "Reading is a leisure activity, especially for one such as you."

"I'm not just reading because I was bored," J.J. growled. "I'm trying to do research here."

"Research?" Tristan echoed.

"Like I said yesterday, we know almost nothing about the Seraphs," J.J. explained, putting his finger on the book before closing it so he could give Tristan his full attention. "How were they made? What are their goals? How do they intend to achieve those goals?"

"I fail to see how that brings us closer to defeating them," Tristan said.

"Really? If we understand how they were made, assuming they really are constructs, then what if there's some way to simply turn them off without fighting them?" J.J. retorted. "That'd certainly be easier than having to fight the Black Seraph all over again, right?"

"Well…." Tristan hedged.

"Or, what about their goals? Agnar said that the Black Seraph intends to restore Almencia, right? Do you have an idea on how he would do that?"

"I do not, but if we defeat him-" Tristan began. J.J. cut him off by holding his hand up.

"We don't even know where to find the Seraph," J.J. replied. "I've only personally seen him once, and that was when he was trying to tempt Kelsie. Unless you have some way to keep tabs on every person in Marville that's unhappy, finding him is going to be a matter of sheer coincidence until we know where his base is, if he has one. The key to that might be in the past. You haven't seen Agnar since you challenged him to a duel, right?"

"I… have not," Tristan admitted.

"And is he the sort to renege on an oath?" J.J. pressed. "You challenged his honor. Would he run off without answering that challenge?"

"Of course not! He would rather die than stain his honor!" Tristan cried.

"Then that means that he's looking for something, and he considers that task to be more important than fighting you," J.J. concluded. "Aren't you curious about what could draw his attention away from something as important as settling a challenge to his honor?"

"Very well!" Tristan sighed, holding up his hand. "You have convinced me. In that case, what have you discovered?"

"Nothing," J.J. replied simply. Tristan's eyes narrowed.

"Then your search for information has been a waste of time, has it not?" Tristan growled, once again folding his arms.

"I'm not going to find the answers in a couple hours of searching," J.J. pointed out, opening the book again. "I need time to-"

"We do not have the luxury of time, page!" Tristan roared. "We cannot afford to expend energy pursuing fruitless endeavors! Unless you have a clear direction, your time would be better spent doing what we know is effective in combating the Black Seraph – mastering your forms and becoming a more proficient warrior!"

"We've been practicing nonstop for days," J.J. countered. "And I'm not getting any stronger. You know that. All you're doing at this point is wearing me out. Is that going to help us beat the Black Seraph?"

"As your skills are now, it would be miraculous for you to defeat anyone," Tristan shot back viciously. J.J. snarled and pushed himself out of the chair, walking over to stand in front of Tristan with his own arms folded over his chest.

"I dunno, I was doing a pretty good job of it without your help," he snapped.

"You defeated opponents who were not used to their Diemon forms, and who had little combat training," Tristan replied. "Do you not recall your difficulty in fighting those that had been trained for battle?"

"I still won," J.J. pointed out.

"Not every fight," Tristan countered.

J.J. remained in Tristan's face, the two men staring each other down for a few long moments. Finally, J.J. relented, sighing and holding his hands up in surrender as he backed away from the knight, unwilling to keep fighting with him. Clearly, neither was willing to back down from their position, and arguing more wouldn't help anything.

"Alright, fine," J.J. said. "I already admitted that I was in the wrong, so let me make it up to you. We'll go train if you still want to. However, I'd like to do one thing before we do."

"Perhaps. What do you wish to do?" Tristan asked cautiously.

"If you're not going to let me do research, at least let me pass it off to someone who can do it in my place. I'm sure Dr. Newman would be thrilled to have the chance to look through a couple books pulled straight from the Marks mansion. He's been trying to get in for years, after all," J.J. explained, unable to keep a slight smile off his face.

"I believe Lady Marks has already expressed her disinclination towards allowing Dr. Newman to study Almencian artifacts," Tristan said slowly.

"She said she didn't want him poking around their property. She didn't say he couldn't look through a couple of their books," J.J. said. He knew that he was rules-lawyering, and Gwen was likely to be angry with him, but this was the next-best option.

Tristan seemed to come to the same conclusion, and he sighed before inclining his head. "If you are willing to weather Lady Marks' ire, I shall permit this. The school is not far away, correct? We can afford a short detour."

"Your magnanimity knows no bounds," J.J. said with a mock bow. He smirked at Tristan as the knight scowled at him.

"To think that the day would come that I would be forced to endure such impudence," Tristan sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Come. The sun continues to sink, and I do not wish to delay further."

Classes were just letting out for the day when J.J. and Tristan pulled into the parking lot of the high school and pulled off their helmets at the same time. They then dismounted and waded upstream through the river of teenagers flooding out of the front doors of the school, struggling against the current towards Dr. Newman's classroom.

"Still think our education system is a marvel?" J.J. quipped lightly, calling out to Tristan over the chatter of the students. "Bet your captains didn't have to deal with trying to teach thousands of recruits at a time."

Tristan glanced over at J.J. for a moment before shaking his head. "Hundreds, perhaps, but not thousands," he replied shortly. "Knights, however, only had a few squires at most, so as to provide them with individual attention during training. Some things cannot be effectively taught to large groups."

"That makes sense," J.J. agreed. "It's a shame that teachers nowadays can't give each student personal attention, but it's just impractical."

"Yes. It is truly a luxury to have a personal teacher, and one a pupil would be foolish not to take full advantage of." Tristan said, giving J.J. a sidelong glance. J.J. scowled and closed his mouth as they finally pushed their way past the crowd and began making their way down the hall towards Dr. Newman's classroom.

The teacher was sitting at his desk, glancing over a stack of papers with a red pen in his hand, when he noticed the pair walking in. A smile spread across his face, and he took his glasses off before pushing himself up to greet the two.

"Good afternoon, boys," he said pleasantly, walking over to sit against the edge of his desk with his arms folded. "If you're here, I'm going to assume you have questions about Almencia, correct?"

"Can't we just be here to say hello to you?" J.J. asked with a slight grin.

"Are you?" Dr. Newman replied. J.J. chuckled, and the doctor raised an eyebrow, though the tolerant grin lingered on his face.

"Unfortunately, no," J.J. admitted. "We… I actually did have a couple of questions I was hoping you might be able to answer."

"Maybe I can. Shoot," Dr. Newman said with a shrug. Tristan took a seat at one of the desks while J.J. leaned against another one, resting most of his weight on the palms of his hands.

"I've been mulling over something," J.J. explained. "Have you come across anything that might explain how someone could… 'resurrect Almencia?'"

Dr. Newman stared at J.J. blankly for several long moments before shaking his head. "That… doesn't sound familiar. Where'd you get the idea that something like that was even possible?"

"A former comrade of mine claimed that it is the Black Seraph's ultimate goal," Tristan explained. "We are unsure as to whether or not it has any validity. I consider it suspect at best, as the Black Seraph is known to say anything to appeal to his victims. Thus, I am hesitant to trust any of his claims."

"So, supposing that he's telling the truth, have you come across anything like that in your studies?" J.J. asked. "Say, an ancient prophecy that Almencia will rise again, or some sort of alchemical artifact meant to preserve the island?"

"Why those specifically?" Dr. Newman asked, sounding mildly amused.

"They're the most common methods you find in fantasy," J.J. shrugged. "Since we're living in a world of alchemical monsters and knights from a thousand years ago, I'm not willing to rule anything out at this point."

"I see," Dr. Newman nodded. He pushed himself up and walked over to his bookshelf, running his fingers over the spines of the books. "In that case, the best place to look would be sources outside of Almencia itself. Few works from the island itself survive, but any indication as to whether something like that was possible would survive in legends passed down from the Almencian descendants that immigrated to other countries."

"So have you heard of any legends like that?" J.J. asked.

"There are numerous legends of islands being destroyed, many of them predating the fall of Almencia itself," Dr. Newman said, still looking through the bookshelf. "Atlantis is the most common example, and that predates Almencia by thousands of years – which is why I don't consider Almencia and Atlantis to be one and the same," he added with a bitter smile. "As for restoring the island, however… the only legends I can think of that sound similar are the returns of heroes. Such tales could serve as metaphors for the nations themselves, if the heroes are allegorical representations of their homelands."

"So… like King Arthur returning to Britain?" J.J. suggested.

"Precisely. But even then, the method of how they would return is never explained," Dr. Newman sighed. "Only that they will return one day."

"You have encountered no mention of it in any of your studies, then?" Tristan asked.

"Not off the top of my head, no," Dr. Newman admitted. Tristan shot J.J. a look of mixed annoyance and exasperation. It was an expression that was clearly meant to admonish him for wasting their time on a needless diversion when they should have been training. J.J. responded by shooting him a glare.

"In that case, would you mind devoting a bit of your free time to studying it?" J.J. asked, turning his attention back to Dr. Newman.

"I don't mind, but I've more or less exhausted my research materials," Dr. Newman replied with a shrug. "I'm not sure how much more I can tell you without having access to new information."

"I figured, which is why I brought you a present," J.J. said, grinning as he reached into his jacket. He withdrew the book on alchemical artifacts and held it out to Dr. Newman, who took the book with wide eyes.

"Where did you find this?" he asked, slowly opening the book and glancing over the first few pages.

"The Marks Mansion," J.J. replied. Dr. Newman looked up warily, frowning.

"Miss Marks made it very clear that she doesn't want me going through her family's property," Dr. Newman said slowly. "How'd you manage to change her mind?"

"I didn't, really," J.J. admitted. Dr. Newman frowned at him as he held up his hands. "But this is to help us fight the Black Seraph. I doubt she can raise very many objections."

"I warned him of the same thing," Tristan piped up.

"If she has a problem with it, I'll ensure it falls on my head, not yours," J.J. assured him. "In the meantime, would you mind taking some time to look through that book?"

"You're offering me the chance to study a book from the Marks family library? Especially one that I've never seen before? How can I say no?" Dr. Newman chuckled, closing the book and nodding. "I'll get to it as soon as my work for the day is done."

"Thank you," J.J. said with a smile.

"Very good," Tristan said, pushing himself up from the desk. "Now, if your worries have been addressed, page, I must insist that you turn your attention to training."

"Sure, sure. I did promise," J.J. sighed, though he didn't stand up. "Thanks again, Dr. Newman."

"Of course. If you boys need anything else, let me know," Dr. Newman said. As he spoke, however, the door opened, and the trio of men turned their attention to the figure barging in. She was a chubby girl with dark skin and a skittish expression, who glanced over at J.J. and Tristan for a moment before fixing her gaze on Dr. Newman.

"I-is this a bad time?" she stuttered.

"Come on in, Cammy," Dr. Newman invited her. "These two are just friends of mine. What can I do for you?"

"I… I just wanted to let you know that I got that five-page report that you wanted done," Cammy stammered. "If it's not long enough, I can go back and add more!"

"The… term project?" Dr. Newman asked slowly. "That's not due for another three months, you know."

"I know! But the sooner I get it in, the better, right?" she asked with a nervous laugh. J.J. raised an eyebrow at the girl while Dr. Newman sighed.

"Alright. I'll accept it if you want, but you might want to spend a bit more time going over it," he warned her.

"Oh, no, I've gone over everythin' like four times!" Cammy said, her voice turning slightly shrill. "It's definitely perfect!"

"If… you say so," Dr. Newman said slowly, almost seeming disturbed by the girl's demeanor. "In that case, well done. I'll see about getting it graded, though it might take me a bit."

"Yeah! Yeah, no, I understand!" Cammy said, nodding furiously. "A-and was there anythin' else we needed to know for the test in three weeks? Anythin' I need to study?!"

"How about if I just email you the notes?" Dr. Newman suggested. "In the meantime, maybe you should head home. You've done more than enough for one day. Maybe take some time to yourself, watch some TV?"

"No… no, I haven't done enough," Cammy muttered under her breath. "Not nearly enough. Thanks Doc! I need to go see Mrs. Reynolds next!" she added, waving to him as she scurried out of the classroom.

J.J. stared after the girl before turning back to Dr. Newman. "…That was weird," he said bluntly. "Creepy, even."

"Truly? I found the girl's enthusiasm for learning refreshing," Tristan commented. "If only every pupil was so diligent about their studies," he added, pinning J.J. with a look that the writer chose to ignore.

"Is she one of your best students?" J.J. asked.

"Not at all. In fact, she was something of a troublemaker until recently," Dr. Newman explained, flipping through the work she'd given him. "Relatively poor grades, and never showed much interest in schoolwork."

"When did her behavior change?" J.J. asked.

"Week, week and a half ago?" Dr. Newman said. "At first, I figured her parents had just gotten on her about her grades. That does sometimes spur students on for a couple of days. However, I've never seen someone apply themselves like this. She seems almost frantic, desperate."

J.J. chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Have there been any other students in any of your other classes who acted like this?" he asked.

"Come to think of it, another boy named Craig has been a bit twitchy over the past couple of days too," Dr. Newman admitted. "I hadn't really thought about it until you brought it up."

"Interesting," J.J. said slowly. Tristan gave him a sidelong glance.

"You are thinking…?" the knight asked slowly.

"There might be a Diemon, yeah," J.J. replied, resting his elbows on the desk and propping his head in his hands. "Maybe students were more eager to learn a thousand years ago, but these days, kids acting like that sends up all sorts of red flags."

"Well, perhaps there are other signs to consider, before we conclude that this is a Diemon," Tristan cautioned. "Dr. Newman, have there been any Shards near the school grounds?"

"No," Dr. Newman replied. "We even have drills in place to deal with Shard and Diemon attacks now, but nothing's popped up for the last couple days."

"That does make me hesitate in the assumption that there is a Diemon on the premises," Tristan said.

"The Diemon could be operating off-campus," J.J. countered. "Shards are drawn to Diemon activity, and while I know they've gone after people who've been exposed to a spell, it looks like they're drawn to the strongest source of Diemon powers first."

"What do you suggest, then?" Tristan asked.

"Let's find that girl," J.J. said. "Ask her what's got her so worked up. Dr. Newman, you said she was going to go speak with…?"

"Mrs. Reynolds. She's the English teacher, two doors down on the right," Dr. Newman replied. "If you hurry you can catch her. And I'll start reading the book you brought tonight."

"Thanks, sir," J.J. said, pushing himself up and darting out the door with Tristan on his heels. The two half-jogged down the hall until they spotted Cammy's figure leaning into the doorway of a classroom whose sole occupant was a kind-looking teacher wearing a warm expression.

"Thank you, Cammy," she said with a gentle smile. "I'm glad to see you've been putting in so much effort lately."

"O-of course!" Cammy stammered, unable to meet the teacher's eyes. "I'm just glad my grades are gettin' better!"

"Well, keep at it," the teacher encouraged her.

"Thank you," Cammy mumbled, before hurrying off to the next classroom. Tristan and J.J. traded looks and began shadowing her, following her to the math classroom and peering inside the other entrance, where an older woman with a sharply pointed nose and chin peered at Cammy with a perpetual scowl on her face.

"What's this?" she asked sharply, frowning as she looked over the girl's papers. "Turning something in early?"

"Y-yes Mrs. Faulkner," Cammy murmured, once again looking away. "I-I'm sorry I didn't-"

"Turning in your work early isn't going to mean it's satisfactory, girl," the woman interrupted her, looking up at her as she kept flipping through the pages. "I'm not going to be impressed by someone merely turning in their work for a change. If the quality is poor, it doesn't matter how soon you turn it in. You understand that, right?"

"I…" Cammy swallowed, starting to tremble. As J.J. and Tristan watched, the English teacher, Mrs. Reynolds, seemed to be listening in on the conversation and walked over to her compatriot's classroom, still wearing a beatific smile.

"Oh, ease up on the poor girl," Mrs. Reynolds said, leaning on the doorway. "She's doing her best, you know."

"Don't give me that 'they get points for trying' new-age nonsense, Jenna," Mrs. Faulkner snapped, pointing a finger at her. "That might work for your classes, but in math, there's one correct answer. If they don't get it, then they've failed. No exceptions. It hasn't changed from when I taught you."

"Surely the fact that she's at least turning her work in now is praiseworthy, right?" Mrs. Reynolds insisted.

Mrs. Faulkner scowled at her over the edge of the paper. "If we're talking about raw numbers, yes. A fifty is better than a zero. But a fifty is still a failing grade in my class." She held the stack of papers under Cammy's nose, narrowing her eyes at the girl. "Are you sure these are the answers you want to turn in?"

"I…." Cammy hesitated, before snatching the papers and hurrying away. Mrs. Reynolds let the girl rush past her before frowning at Mrs. Faulkner.

"That old style of teaching doesn't work anymore, Charlotte," Mrs. Reynolds murmured in a quiet voice. "They don't respond to someone snapping at them all day. You have to encourage these kids, or else they're going to give up without even trying."

"And you have to stop coddling them. I have other tests to grade, Jenna, and I don't have time to chat. You have work to do too, so get back to it." Mrs. Faulkner replied shortly. She then looked up and spotted J.J. and Tristan, frowning at them deeply. "And what do you two want?!"

"Sorry! Just looking for someone!" J.J. said quickly, grabbing Tristan by the arm and pulling him away so they could hurry after Cammy. They found the girl shuffling down the hall, muttering to herself as she looked over the stack of formulas in her hands. J.J. came up behind her and said softly, "Excuse me?"

Cammy jumped almost a foot in the air before turning around to look up at J.J. with a wary expression. "Wh-what is it?" she stammered.

"Sorry," J.J. said with a gentle smile, holding his hands up. "I was just on my way to the principal's office, but I noticed you were looking a little stressed. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Why?" Cammy replied quickly. Looking closer, J.J. noticed that there were dark circles under the girl's eyes, from stress or a lack of sleep.

"We're friends of Dr. Newman's, and he was worried you've been under a lot of stress lately. If I might ask, is that true?" J.J. asked gently. Cammy hesitated, and he added, "It's fine if you don't want to talk about it, but you seemed like you could use someone to talk to. Have weird things maybe been happening to you lately? If they have, I might be able to help," he added.

Cammy hesitated, before looking around, almost as if she was checking to see if they were being watched. She then pushed J.J. towards a corner, while Tristan followed. Once they were in a corner, she looked up at him with an expression that made him wonder if she was about to cry.

"I… don't want to talk about this too loud," she whispered to him. "But yeah, weird things have been happenin' around me lately."

"Tell me about them," J.J. replied, leaning down so that they could speak quietly to each other.

"I know Dr. Newman's lookin' at me weird, and I don't blame him. Thing is… I've never been a great student, and I never cared 'bout school," she explained. "But 'bout a week ago, though, the dreams started."

"Dreams?" Tristan asked, frowning.

Cammy looked down at the ground, remaining silent for several long minutes before she began to speak quietly. "Every night, after I fall asleep, I find myself sittin' alone at a desk surrounded by fog, with a black sky above me. This… thing wearin' a hood comes out of the fog and asks me in an old woman's voice, 'Did you do your homework?' Then she reaches out a nail and drags it across my arm, one time for every class I didn't finish my work in."

"That's… creepy," J.J. commented.

"However, there is no need to fear dreams, girl," Tristan added.

"Really?!" Cammy half-shrieked, grabbing the sleeve of her sweatshirt and pulling it down. "Then how d'you explain these?!"

Long, angry, red cuts had been carved into the back of Cammy's arm. J.J. noted that there were six, with four of the cuts slashed through with a fifth longer cut, exactly like a tally mark. Cammy glanced between the two men with wild eyes, and when neither could say anything, she hastily rolled her sleeve back up.

"Yeah, that's what I thought!" Cammy said, on the verge of hyperventilating. "It doesn't matter if I try stayin' awake, either! Somehow, I always fall asleep, and I always find myself back in that room! I think I'm goin' crazy!"

"No, you're not," J.J. said soothingly, smiling serenely at the girl while trying to ignore how hard his own heart was pounding at what she'd shown them. "And thank you for telling us."

"So how're you gonna help me, huh?!" Cammy asked, half-shrieking hysterically.

"Fortunately for you, we know how to get ahold of the Kamen Riders here in the city," J.J. grinned at her. At this, Cammy seemed to shrink, a tentative smile crossing her lips. She seemed to sag with sheer relief upon hearing J.J.'s assertion.

"R-really?" she stammered.

"If anyone can help you with this, it's them, right?" J.J. said with a shrug. "We'll ask them to look into it."

"Y'know… normally, I'd say that sounds stupid, but right now I'm willin' to try anythin'," Cammy exclaimed. "Just… please tell 'em to hurry."

"Sure thing," J.J. assured her. Cammy spun on her heel and hurried off, muttering under her breath as she continued shuffling papers. J.J. sighed and glanced over at Tristan.

"So what do you think?" he asked the knight.

"I must concur, these events do indeed suggest that a Diemon is involved. Though I confess, I have never encountered one that attacked its victims through dreams," he said.

"Maybe it isn't. Maybe it just waits until people are asleep, and then it scratches them. The question, though, is to what end?" J.J. added thoughtfully.

"The end is irrelevant," Tristan said simply. "If there is indeed an active Diemon, we need simply defeat it, and the attacks will stop."

"I mean… you're not wrong, but I'd like to know why, at least," J.J. said.

"Focus on the task at hand, page," Tristan insisted. J.J. bit back a protest, keeping his expression carefully neutral.

"Right, sorry. That'd be wasting time, I suppose. So, what do you suggest we do?" he asked.

"I would recommend we observe the girl, as we know that she suffers these attacks nightly. It stands to reason that it shall happen again tonight."

"What about if there are other victims?" J.J. asked. "Maybe we should go around the school, see who else has been attacked."

"What would be the purpose?" Tristan asked. "We already know an attack is happening to this girl. If we follow her, we shall head off another attack, correct?"

"Yeah, but what if it doesn't attack her tonight? What if it moves onto another victim?" J.J. countered. "We don't know how this Diemon operates, and maybe-"

"You requested my opinion. This is the course of action I believe we should take," Tristan said shortly. "If you wish to discuss the philosophy behind the Diemon's attacks, I shall happily devote as much time as you wish, but the girl shall continue to suffer in the meantime and we will lose our only lead. Focus on what is in front of you, page."

"Fine!" J.J. sighed, a bit more forcefully than he intended. Tristan raised an eyebrow, and J.J. held up a hand. "Sorry. If we're going to shadow Cammy, though, we should figure out where she lives, explain the situation to her parents, and then watch her in shifts. We'll keep an eye on her together tonight, but in the meantime, one of us should watch her while the other gets food, since it's likely to be a long night."

"Now that is a practical suggestion," Tristan praised him.

"Thanks. Now the trick is going to be watching over her without the Diemon spotting us," J.J. muttered, sighing as he ran his hand down his face. "And let's hope that we don't get accused of stalking her. Last thing I need is an arrest and restraining order on my record."

It was almost midnight, and J.J. was sitting against his bike, shivering and gripping a cup of coffee tightly while he pulled his leather jacket tighter around his body. The weather was getting colder as the seasons changed, and he found himself wishing that the Diemon had chosen midsummer to attack.

To his annoyance, Tristan seemed relatively unfazed. He was sitting beside J.J. astride his bike, calmly munching on a simple ham sandwich on rye bread, one of the few modern foods he seemed to enjoy. It was unsurprising, J.J. thought to himself, as the Middle Ages had both foods, and meat especially was considered a delicacy. Tristan probably felt slightly spoiled having constant access to such high-quality food.

Turning away, J.J. sighed and shivered. Part of his irritation was thanks to how slow a process staking out a house was. He and Tristan had approached Cammy's parents in their armored forms and explained the situation so that they wouldn't be frightened by the two staking out their house. They had then set up near the treeline and powered down, as their civilian forms were less recognizable. If there was a Diemon in the area, it was more likely to disregard them if they weren't wearing their armor. However, over four hours had passed and there was still no sign of the Diemon.

"You'd think a Shard would have shown up by now or something," J.J. commented to break the silence, his breath misting in the chilly air. "At least that'd give us something to follow."

"Eager for battle now, are you?" Tristan commented, finishing the rest of his sandwich before taking a sip from his water bottle. "Where was this enthusiasm earlier in the day?"

"Earlier in the day, it wasn't this cold," J.J. retorted in a pointed, snarky tone. "A fight would give me an excuse to suit up and move around a bit."

Tristan gazed at him coldly for several moments before looking away. "Do not waver in your vigil. The moment you take your eyes from Lady Cammy's residence is the moment when the Diemon is sure to attack."

"Heh. You're not wrong," J.J. said with a wry grin. His smile faltered, however, as Tristan looked away again. J.J. gazed at the back of the knight's head quietly before asking, "Seriously, what's with you? You can't be that upset that I skipped one training session."

"It is not merely that you avoided training, page," Tristan replied.

"Then what is it? Air it out so we can address it and fix it," J.J. suggested.

Tristan looked away, holding up a hand. J.J. snarled, but when Tristan pointed to Cammy's house, J.J. peered a bit closer and saw a shadowy figure approaching one of the windows. Tristan motioned for J.J. to follow him, which J.J. did without hesitation.

The two crept towards the house, keeping low to the ground to avoid attracting the figure's attention. Luckily, it was completely absorbed in whatever it was doing. From where J.J. was standing, it looked like its hand was pressed against a window, and deep purple energy seemed to be swirling around it.

"We should see what it's doing," J.J. suggested in a low voice.

"And allow it to harm Lady Cammy? No," Tristan replied bluntly, holding up his shield. "The sooner we attack, the sooner we can resolve this."

J.J. was about to argue, but before he could, Tristan held his shield to his chest before holding it out in front of him. "Henshin!" the knight shouted, and the figure turned, startled, as Tristan's Driver appeared around his waist and he slotted his buckle.

J.J. winced before exhaling in a long, slow mist, barely able to keep his annoyance in check. While Tristan did have a point about needing to save Cammy before she suffered any more harm, J.J. was of the opinion that they could have at least tried a sneak attack. What was done was done, though, he thought bitterly. He pulled his diary out of his pocket and flipped it open to his stats page, at which point he held it up to his cheek and likewise called out "Henshin!" As his own Driver appeared around his waist, he slipped the book into the belt buckle, and both he and Tristan spun their D-formers at almost the same time.

"Adventure: Begin!"

"Steel yourself! Class: Cavalier!"

The two Drivers shouted into the night, and die-shaped crystals enveloped J.J. and Tristan in amber and sky blue lights, respectively. As the crystals spun around them, trumpets blared and cymbals clashed while the two men were covered in their armor. When the spinning stopped, J.J. was wearing his light leather armor while Tristan was encased in his heavier sky-blue plate armor, his left hand gripping his heavy shield. Tristan pushed the bull icon on his belt buckle, and a bovine bellow resounded across the quiet lawns. A mace emerged from the bull device on his shield, while J.J. held out his hand and his quill flew out of his diary to settle itself in his palm. He clicked the pen once, and it extended out into its short saber form, which he held out in front of him in a loose fencing stance.

"Step away from that child's house, monster!" Tristan commanded the Diemon, pointing his mace at it. "She shall not suffer your torture any longer! Surrender and you need not face our wrath!"

The figure stared at the two men, before throwing its head back and letting out a cackling laugh that made the hairs on the back of J.J.'s neck stand up. It began growing, its shadowy form expanding until it towered over J.J. and Tristan, standing a good thirty feet tall. J.J. swallowed as the stupid face of an ogre or troll stared down at them, with a club resting on its shoulder.

Tristan charged forward immediately with a yell, leaping into the air and swiping at the Diemon with his mace before the ogre had a chance to strike first. J.J., however, hesitated, his hand resting on his diary. He wasn't sure which form was best suited for this fight, as he'd never had to go up against an opponent this large before. Would Warrior Class's strength be enough to counter something this big? What about Mage Class's magic? Was there enough range for him to safely cast spells? Paladin Class was a good balance, but with its weaker power, could he effectively block a direct strike from the ogre's club?

"Page! Fight!" Tristan shouted. J.J. looked up in time to see the ogre calmly step out of the way of Tristan's wild swing, but the knight pressed the attack, charging at it again. The massive beast was deceptively fast, however, keeping out of the short range of Tristan's mace while chuckling in a deep voice.

Tristan growled and planted his shield before touching the falcon device on his shield. His mace disappeared as a raptor's screech filled the air, and a crossbow emerged from his shield instead. Tristan grabbed it and sighted the beast before loosing a glowing golden arrow. Somehow, however, the ogre again swayed out of the way with unbelievable speed, and the bolt missed.

With the ogre distracted, however, J.J. made up his mind. He put his hand on his blue D-former and gave it a spin, at which point his Driver shouted, "Reroll! Class: Thief!" A saxophone filled the air as a sapphire enveloped him, and as it spun, his leather armor split open to become his blue jacket. J.J. then gave his die another spin, and as it shouted "Critical!" his dagger began to glow.

With the ogre still focused on Tristan, J.J. threw the dagger at the monster's unprotected back. To his shock, however, the ogre shrugged out of the way without even looking at him, and his dagger flew past it harmlessly. J.J.'s jaw dropped as his dagger flew back into his hand, and the ogre turned around to face him.

Before he could recover from his surprise, the ogre suddenly disappeared, and J.J. found himself instead facing a coiled twenty-foot long serpent. It lashed out at him with a hiss, but J.J. just barely managed to leap back, its fangs missing him by millimeters.

Or… did they? He wondered that as he felt a wave of fatigue wash over him, making him stagger slightly. In a panic, he looked down at himself to see if he was sporting a bite mark. The last thing he needed was another trip to the hospital to deal with venom. However, he didn't seem to have suffered any physical damage, and as he lowered his arm, the dizziness slowly passed.

Shaking his head, he let out a low hiss, holding his daggers in a defensive position in front of him. He began circling around the snake, but as it was distracted, Tristan lined up a shot of his own from behind it. A golden bolt slammed into the snake's head, and to J.J.'s surprise and horror, its head detached from its body, landing several feet away and writhing for a few moments before lying still. J.J. looked up at Tristan slowly, swallowing hard to keep himself from throwing up, while Tristan shrugged nonchalantly.

The snake's body, however, continued to remain upright, and as the two watched, two more heads grew out of the stump of its body, each head hissing at one of the opponents. Tristan immediately leaped backwards while J.J. backed away with a horrified expression.

"What the hell are we fighting?" he murmured under his breath, dropping his hand to his belt again. He couldn't think of a single creature that could shapeshift from an ogre to a hydra.

Tristan, meanwhile, pressed the bull icon on his belt again, switching back to his mace, before charging the hydra with his shield raised to protect himself from its attacks. The hydra chose to engage the knight, its two heads hissing and striking at him while Tristan tried to block its attacks. J.J., in the meantime, decided quickly on his next class. The legend of the hydra said that its severed heads had to be cauterized, and he had the perfect form to do so.

"Reroll! Class: Mage!" his Driver shouted as he spun the black die, and an onyx die enveloped him as chimes played and his blue jacket shifted into a black tunic. When the spinning around him stopped, he gripped his staff and pointed it at the Diemon, but he paused again, as the shape of the battlefield had once again changed in the seconds since his transformation.

Tristan was on one knee, panting and holding his shield up to ward off any follow-up attacks from the hydra, but the snake was no longer there. Instead, a phoenix hovered above the ground, its fiery wings illuminating the night as they blazed brightly. J.J. immediately felt fear grip him as he saw the fire smoldering around it, and the bird turned its attention to him. It let out a screech and opened its mouth, loosing a jet of flame that J.J. couldn't react to in time.

Fire washed around him, and J.J. let out a cry of panic as his pyrophobia once more took hold of him, briefly paralyzing him as he closed his eyes. Strangely, though, the flames weren't hot, and for a moment he wondered if he'd even been hit. As he opened his eyes, however, another wave of fatigue swept over him, this time dropping him to his knees. J.J. panted wearily as he struggled to lift his staff again, but it felt as if it was ten times heavier. All he wanted to do now was rest.

As the flames stopped billowing around him, the phoenix hovered in the air, letting out a triumphant screech. J.J. grit his teeth, awaiting the next attack, as he once more tried to pick up his staff. Before either could move, however, a short yell sounded from behind the phoenix, and Tristan took a flying swipe at the bird with his mace. Unfortunately, the attack was slow, especially for Tristan, and the bird was able to fly out of the way. Tristan stumbled past it and wound up next to J.J., who could see that the knight was panting heavily. Even though he knew Tristan was still having some difficulty with his armor, J.J. suspected that he was also feeling the same weariness as him.

The bird transformed again, morphing into a looming eight-foot tall wyvern that spread its wings and let out a horrific screech. J.J. grit his teeth as he pushed himself up, putting his hand on his diary again. Tristan noticed this and edged out of the way, as J.J. spun his red D-former. "Reroll! Class: Warrior!" his Driver shouted, and war drums played as a ruby die spun around him and he was covered in his thick lamellar armor. He grunted as he hefted his warhammer over his shoulder, slowly pushing himself to his feet. As tired as he was, he felt as if he needed every ounce of strength just to move, which was why right now Warrior Class was the ideal form to pick.

"We will attack one more time, page," Tristan said, slowly straightening up. "Follow my lead, if you would."

J.J. was too tired to argue, so he slipped behind Tristan, allowing the knight to charge forward with his shield raised. The wyvern let out another screech and swung its barbed tail around in a short arc. Tristan caught the attack on his shield, but he suddenly sagged, grunting out. J.J. took advantage of the opening, though, mustering the last reserves of his strength and leaping into the air. The wyvern brought its tail back again, but J.J. was already descending, his hammer raised over his head. His strike was slowed, however, due to his fatigue. The wyvern flinched out of the way to avoid the attack, but its dodge was too quick. It was clearly expecting a faster attack, as after it made a dodging motion, it stepped back into its original place, putting it right in the path of J.J.'s hammer. J.J. let out a yell as the head of his weapon collided with its head, and the wyvern was driven into the ground.

Before he could follow up with another attack, the wyvern suddenly disappeared, replaced with a shrouded figure on the ground. The figure hurriedly pushed itself up before J.J. could recover, clambering away and clutching its shoulder. It let out an unearthly screech of pain as it melted into the night, scampering into the distance before either of the warriors could pursue it.

J.J. swore under his breath and powered down, dropping to one knee as fatigue enveloped him completely. He felt as if he'd run a marathon, and the weariness he felt was made worse once his suit faded. He spent a few moments catching his breath before looking up at Tristan, who was likewise kneeling on the ground, his face pale and coated in sweat.

"That was… a weird one," J.J. commented lightly between pants. "It's too bad we couldn't-"

"You wasted… too much time, page," Tristan interrupted, raising his head to glare at J.J., who froze. "Your indecisiveness… allowed our quarry… to escape."

"My… what?" J.J. managed to snap, snarling at Tristan. "If I recall… I was the one… who finally hit that damn thing."

"I required your help," Tristan admonished him, finally catching his breath. "That foe required coordinated attacks with no hesitation. Yet you wasted time shifting through your forms instead of simply attacking our foe."

"Oh, well, excuse me for not running in blindly, and instead trying to figure out an edge," J.J. shot back. "You wanna talk about wasting something, how about all the energy you wasted with frontal assaults on it while I was trying to figure out the most efficient way to beat it."

"Yet you did not," Tristan replied shortly. "In the time it took you to transform, your Thief Class could have struck that snake eight times. You shifted to Mage Class instead. Why?"

"Have you never read the legend of the hydra?" J.J. asked derisively. "If we'd kept cutting off heads, they'd have kept re-growing. You have to burn the stumps to-"

"That was not a hydra, page!" Tristan cried. "That was some sort of shapeshifting Diemon that kept changing forms when it saw you were attempting to out-guess its next change! And you fell right into its trap, leaving me to fight it virtually alone!"

J.J. winced, realizing that Tristan did have a point, but he was so aggravated at this point that he wasn't willing to back down. "Hey, you're the thousand-year-old knight with more experience than I'll ever have!" he snapped. "You should've thought of something yourself!"

Tristan glared at him coldly as he pushed himself up. "Perhaps I should have. That was my mistake, assuming you were clever. Clearly, your own cleverness worked against you. That is a mistake I shall not make twice."

"And what do you mean by that?" J.J. snapped.

"It means that I must reevaluate you and what you can offer," Tristan said mysteriously. "In any case, there is no point in pursuing our quarry further this evening. Go home and rest, page. You shall require it."

"Wha- wait!" J.J. snapped, but before he could pursue the knight, Tristan walked towards his motorcycle and climbed aboard, driving off without another word and leaving J.J. fuming as he stared daggers at Tristan's disappearing back.