Reviews:
Tom2011: Yeah, the final battle starts now and with it, the end as well. Hope you enjoy.
FuryJoe: Thank you! Glad that you're enjoying it.
Hairul The Nightrage Beast: Yeah, Harry pulled a fast one on Neo Griffith with his gamble which paid off. The time for retribution is at hand for all. One chance to perhaps end the wheel of hatred causality has established.
Pyromania101: To quote Scar, "Be prepared."
Tero7323: My friend at work told me about that, yeah! Throughout the story, and now at the end more than ever, I really wanted to give each character a chance to shine and show how they've grown and the last chapter was all Charlotte. As for the behelit, it was something I was hinting at from earlier chapters and since Femto would have no choice but to follow the rules he abides by, it seemed like the best way to utilize it as a double-edged sword of sorts.
Celexs Draconia: Glad to see it came as a surprise. I wanted all items the characters have to be utilized in some way and when faced with a situation that he wouldn't be able to stop himself, the task had to fall to one who could. I'm excited to be putting out these last few chapters of the final arc as well.
OBSERVER01: Yup! Stealth and deception made goods allies in helping to topple a demonic entity. The battle is about to commence.
liamrodhudson331: Sorry that you thought early Neville was a bit annoying, he does get better with time and grows out of his nervous habits.
erica phoenix: Not a problem! Hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer- Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Berserk is owned by Kentaro Miura. I own nothing.
"So this is all of them?" Guts' sole eye drifted along the rows of cowled Bakiraka Silat had assembled. He could tell that there was only a few hundred present as the Kushan had told him previously.
"I've seen the work you're capable of doing on your own," Silat crossed his arms. "Adding a force like this, despite how foolish it is, still greatly increases your chances of success, does it not?"
"And you're committed yourself, too?" Casca inquired of the assassin as she adjusted a strap on her arm guard. The ruby on the pommel of her sword shown brightly in the light.
Dark, narrow eyes regarded her. "Is my presence not enough of a confirmation?" he sounded like he was doing his best to sound irritated to mask the fear that he felt. Guts had seen that plenty of times before. The men who did that usually lived through the battle. Just as long as Silat didn't abandon them in a dire moment, he had nothing to fear from their side either.
"So is it time then?" Isidro asked as he tugged on Guts' cloak. "We going to kick some teeth in or what? We haven't heard from Harry in ages and Farnese said she thinks he might have been caught." Schierke shifted on her feet nervously. "Let's go bust him out already! We have more than enough stealthy people now."
From their position in the open Doldrey courtyard, Guts looked over to the gate that led out to the dust-covered field beyond where the Skull Knight was facing. It was as he was awaiting someone. The fighters from Elfheim perhaps? The bone head did say he had made a deal with the elf king there and that they could expect some help. Perhaps they had their own way of arriving that didn't require his sword.
Looking back to everyone else Guts could see the underlying restlessness that was gripping at all of them. Silat hid behind bravado and aloofness, Isidro was embracing his to hide how scared he must be. Schierke was really doing whatever to try and occupy her mind such as fidgeting on her feet and twisting her staff in her hands. Casca had a more neutral expression on her face, her eyes set straight. The only indication of her anxiety came in the form of skimming an armored finger across the hilt of her sword. Since both were of goblin make, Guts wondered if one could scratch the other.
And then there was-,
"Do you really have to go?" Erica was clutching tight to Rickert's free hand, staring up at him with pleading eyes.
"Yes, Erica. I really do." Rickert tried forcing a brave smile on his face. "This isn't goodbye forever, alright? I'm not going to be where the fighting is the thickest. And if I do get in trouble, I'll find Guts, and you know how strong he is."
"The strongest there is!" Erica praised.
He was far from the strongest, he could always get stronger, but he would let the young maiden believe that. If Rickert was in trouble, he wouldn't be alone. Guts turned his attention back to Skull Knight who remained seated near the gate. Best talk to him before any more sentiments could be thrown his way.
"Hey, you ready to go?" Guts asked him. "If Harry really is in trouble there, we're not going to risk Farnese and the others getting captured as well." Their untimely arrival could be just the thing to rile Neo Griffith into acting.
Skull Knight regarded him from the corner of his glowing socket. "Is that your desire? To leave now?"
"Tch! If you know something, you better share it. Cut it with the cryptic crap for once."
"I know only what I speculate. A stirring has occurred inside. The feeling of pulling a sword from the gullet. A behelit."
"Someone used it?" Casca asked worriedly. "How do you know?"
"I have consumed many throughout the years I have ridden my steed. It was the means by which I hunted apostles myself just as the Struggler relied on his brand. No one has used that cursed trinket, not in a conventional way."
"What other way is there then?" Schierke inquired, her mind seeking a clear line of thought.
"A double-edged sword," Skull Knight responded. "The Wizard may have yet prevailed."
"Harry?" Schierke asked.
Ivalera pouted at the Skull Knight. "You better not be raising up our hopes just to smash them down." Guts silently agreed with the pink elf. Knowing Schierke, she'd be thinking of ways to best utilize the situation at hand.
'Schierke! Guts!' the voice of Farnese spoke within their minds as she called to them.
Farnese? What is it? What's happened?
'The wedding. Queen Charlotte she... she walked out.'
What are you talking about?
'Queen Charlotte attended the ceremony but did not marry him. She spoke quietly with him, gave him what looked like the behelit and just left. She's gone.'
A dozen questions began racing through Guts' mind. Charlotte had turned down the person she had been head-over-heels for since he first saw her? The girl who was afraid of her own shadow and whom he had to give a piggyback ride to when breaking Griffith out of prison. She walked away from all she desired and what she believed could have made her happy? Were they even talking about the same girl?
'How'd she get the behelit?' Schierke asked one of the questions Guts himself had.
'My guess would be Harry. He was the one who went to get her. He's the only one who could have done it. I don't what he did, but it worked. As for Neo Griffith, he walked off shortly after. I don't know where he's gone off to. If Harry was captured he's probably in the dungeons, but I don't think that's the case.'
'Where is he now?' Schierke asked the question that was on all of their minds. 'He would have to have... wait. What is-?'
'Farnese? What's going on?'
Guts felt a tingle run along his spine and whipped his body around to see an almost distortion in the air behind him. He thought it perhaps that Femto or Void had discovered where they were and made ready to finish them off right then and there. He was in the process of drawing Dragonslayer when Skull Knight moved in front of him.
The distortion that he had seen took the form of three people, a blonde man, and woman, one dressed as a servant and the other in proper armor. The third was a brunette woman in a white wedding dress. The figurine they had been holding onto slipped from their grasp as they all seemed unsteady from the tug that came from using a portkey.
As Charlotte was ready to lose her balance from the sheer disorientation, a metal hand placed itself upon her shoulder to keep her steady. "E-eh?" her response was warranted as the skull helm stared down at her, their gazes met and made Guts think that he was giving her some sort of mental conversation. Guts was ready to interrupt this little staring contest between the two when he noticed something. It could have just been his eyes playing tricks on him, but it looked like the red in Skull Knight's gaze had lessened. The glowing sockets staring at the Queen of Midland now belonged solely to that of Skull King Gaiseric.
The two blondes who had come along as well had far less calming reactions. The other woman had her hands to her mouth to hold in a scream and the knight looked ready to draw his blade but one look from Skull Knight cowed him into submission.
Guts waited to see if the undead knight would speak and when he didn't, he chose to intervene. "Hey there, Your Highness. He actually got you out then."
The Queen's blue orbs finally broke contact with the Skull Knight's whose sockets were back to his usual glowing mix. "Where... what is this place?"
"This is Doldrey, Your Highness," Casca offered the Queen an answer. "You touched the object that was able to bring you here. You understand that much, don't you?"
Guts observed her, waiting for her response to the question. "Yes..." she managed out. She sounded like she was in some sort of trance. "That wizard - Harry, he informed me of the ploy. I accepted his proposal."
"You've met him?" Schierke asked the young queen. "Is he alive? What of the others?"
"I... yes," Charlotte answered, a bit taken aback by the other girl's direct question. "I prepared a means for his escape and he provided us with this means of escape. He and Sir Laban-," her words caught in her throat and a look of sadness crossed her eyes.
"Your Highness...?" Sir Owen placed a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder. His aversion to Skull Knight was momentarily forgotten.
"He said there were still things that he had to do," Charlotte spoke after a pause. "I do not know beyond that. I never saw any others."
That sounded like something their wizard friend would do. There was just always something to be done when it came to him. He felt the piercing gaze of the Skull Knight on him and Guts looked over to stare back at the animated suit of armor.
"So is now the time?" he had his little family reunion, no point in waiting now. "We can leave now."
Sir Owen's senses looked like they were coming back to him, including his logical side. "You mean to depart to Falconia?"
"If you came along with your queen, then you probably understand that that place is not what it seems," Guts said to the knight. "And right now we have some key players right in the thick of it all. So unless you want an army of demons showing up here looking for you three, best to get it over with now."
He could tell his words had stirred the sense of truth within the knight. The hardened look of understanding was easy to read on the other man's face. Owen spoke again. "The knights and soldiers of Falconia, they are human."
"Uhh, yeah, we kinda knew that," Isidro whispered to Puck, a bit louder than he meant.
"I mean to say that those people, those human beings, they are unaware," Owen stated. "I may not know what our Queen does, but if it is enough for her to walk away from someone like Griffith, it cannot spell a bright future for anyone. The citizens of Falconia are guilty of ignorance in this fight. It doesn't make sense for them to suffer a fate such as that for following a leader who they believe to be supreme."
Anna seemed to understand what he was getting at. "Sir Owen, you don't mean to go and fight as well... do you? Who will be left to defend the Queen in your stead?"
"You misunderstand me, Miss Anna," Owen said. "It would be shameful of me to leave a Queen Charlotte defenseless. If I were to fall then my friend's stand would have been for naught." He turned once more to Guts. "I only ask that any unnecessary deaths be avoided."
"You've fought in battles before," Guts reminded the knight. "You should know that isn't always the case. None of us have any vendetta against your knights, but, if they were to deter our path to Griffith... you're smart enough to know the outcome." There was a look of uncertain understanding on the blonde knight's face as he gave a remorseful and respected nod.
"There is little time to waste," Skull Knight spoke once again, his voice drawing eyes filled with varying emotions to him. It was a bit hypocritical of him to say that when he had been waiting for as long as he had. But with a skull that thick, it must have escaped him. Pulling his sword from his sheath, Skull Knight dipped it down his open helm much to Anna's disgust and Charlotte's morbid curiosity. When he pulled it free, it was the familiar assortment of facial features.
The astral blade cut an arc through the air and Guts waited for the tingle along his spine as the trigger symbol that let him know that the swirling vortex was opening. It took longer this time for the warp tear to open, and he saw why. It started small but began expanding. Shaking along the sides as it stretched out and began pulling the very air toward the center to stabilize itself. With the number of people they were bringing with them, a larger space was needed.
Guts cast a look over to watch Silat, making sure he wasn't about to back out now. If he left, so did the few hundred fighters he had as well. He was somewhat pleased to note that the Kushan assassin was tense, as were his men, but none made a move to leave the ranks. He did not believe they did so out of loyalty, but out of fear of what would happen if they did. Either way was fine with him.
Skull Knight's helm swiveled on his body to look back at Guts and the rest. Now was the time.
He started walking toward the swirling vortex, his hand on Dragonslayer's hilt. Knowing that the sword was on his back gave him the sense of comfort that he always felt before a fight.
"Please come back safe!" he heard young Erica say once more to Rickert.
"I will. I promise, Erica." He would need to work hard to keep it. "But don't forget to do your job too. With us gone, you have to help keep the people here safe, and the Queen too."
That perked Erica's hopes. "Oh, yes! Yes, I will!" she hurried over to Charlotte and her two followers and took hold of the Queen's hand, an act that no rational eleven-year-old would have normally done. But with Erica's warm smile and bright eyes, it seemed to carry no offense. "This way, Your Highness! I'll show you inside the fort! There are more of your people inside."
"...Very well," Charlotte went along with the young maid.
"Your dress is so pretty, Your Majesty! Did you make it yourself?"
"...Yes. Thank you."
"Wow! How did you do your hair? Can my hair be done like that?"
"... I see no reason it cannot."
Their words and voices became distorted as Guts went fully through the tear Skull Knight had opened. He glimpsed them one last time before darkness, and then the light was upon him.
His eye adjusted to the sudden shift and he saw that the arid climate of Doldrey was far behind him now. They had stepped out into the bush of forest that was on the outlining perimeter of Falconia's farmlands. And beyond that, he saw it. The City of Light, the safe haven for humanity stood as a proud beacon and the tree that towered above it reached up into the clouds above, its branches jutting out to stretch in every direction possible in the sky.
The walls were a good hundred feet in height but he could see the main palace without any difficulty and the curve of the giant sphere that was behind that. He was there right now.
Casca was beside him, looking where he had been. He could reach out thanks to Schierke's hairs to read her thoughts, but this was not a matter he needed to know more about. Her face said it all.
The others were filing out now as well. Some handled it easier than others, namely Isidro, Schierke, and Puck, while many of the Bakiraka were coming through with more caution.
"Isidro, Rickert," Guts called the two over. "You both ready?"
Isidro looked like he wanted to say something but he settled with a simple, and nervous, "Hell yeah!" Rickert kept silent but patted the large satchel hanging on his side. The inside was filled with bombs inscribed with Runes by Harry and Schierke. They would keep to the farmlands outside of the city to blow the protective stones apart. Skull Knight had said that as long as those stones were there, he would not be able to enter the city. Once the bombs were in place, Isidro would give the order to Schierke via thought to activate them.
Guts turned his attention to the blue elf who was on Isidro's shoulder. It had been weighing on his mind as of recently and it was about time to put him to good use. "You. You have a new job."
Puck tilted his head. "Huh? What's that?"
Pointing to Falconia's palace, Guts said, "Right now that place is bound to be filled with a lot of confusion. Farnese, Serpico, Sirius, and the rest all know what we're doing, but we haven't heard a thing from Harry. You go in, find him, lead him back to the others or to us and we all meet up inside." He spoke in his usual stern tone but kept it slower in case Puck missed any of that but he did not have to worry about that it seemed. "Think you can handle that?"
With a swift salute, Puck said, "Aye! For one master of Elf-Dimension style, 'tis easy as can be!" he fluttered his wings and floated off of Isidro's shoulder. "You can count on me!"
"If you're serious," Schierke said as she pulled a few green hairs from her head, "give these to him, will you?"
Puck gave a firm nod as he accepted the gift. "Count on it."
Ivalera watched him in confused admiration. "He actually sounds serious."
"Even I know the time and place for jokes," Puck defended. "I'll get the job done like no other. The rest of you just make it in safely." Puck glowed blue as he started to flutter higher. "Oh!" he called as he was about to clear the top of a tree. "I almost forgot; Guts... try not to die. I won't be around all the time to save you."
Guts stared impassively up at the blue elf. "Same to you, Puck."
Puck's already large eyes seemed to enlarge. "Did you just...?"
"Get going already, bug," Guts called him by the usual title. "You're wasting time, as usual." Despite the situation they were faced with, Guts thought he could discern a knowing smile on the elf's face as he took off into the sky and off toward Falconia as a blue blur, a glowing gaze saw him off.
"One so small, he will suffice. Those from his homeland share a similar outlook."
"Can we be expecting reinforcements from them anytime soon?" Guts questioned.
Skull Knight pondered his question. "You speak of assistance, yet your mind is drawn only to battle. You have come far and struggled harder, the light of possibility has been in your sight longer than your knowing. How long have you known your elf companion? Long enough to know that his people are not a warrior breed. If not spears and swords, what can a passive island offer a battle, offer after?"
As usual, he left the meaning of his words up to interpretation. It frustrated Guts to no end, but as he saw the forces that they had now, thought about the people still inside the city, he felt he could piece this one together easier than the ones that came before. And that didn't change the fact he would be giving that skull head a good hit once before it was all over.
It had not been long after Queen Charlotte left the altar that the one who pretended to be Griffith left as well.
From her seat in the aisle, Farnese did not hear him utter a single word to anyone as he silently left as well. She was not too close to the altar, but anyone would have been able to hear any noise on account of how quiet it was after the bride left. She did not know what Harry had said or done to the full extent, but she was thankful nonetheless. The only person who remained at the altar was the ancient High Pontiff, a man who now seemed to the hall rooted to the spot where he stood. The Moonlight Knight Sir Locus had vanished as well, he had looked less than pleased.
"He actually did it," she heard Sirius whisper and could feel the smirk the man had without looking at him. It was perhaps a look they all felt on the inside, he was just bolder about showing it. "A true Marauder if there ever was one."
His words seemed to spark some whispering from the other guests in attendance. The most common things being said were, "Where has the Queen gone?" "Has the wedding been postponed?" "Did you see where Lord Griffith disappeared to?" "What were they talking about?"
Through all that confusion, Farnese managed to hear the High Pontiff quiver out a few words of a ramble. "Esteemed... guests. Rise for... matrimony of... Lord Griffith. The... Savior of Humanity..." he could not seem to process the event better than any of the people around her, save for those who knew the truth.
Two youths of a few years her junior took action and tried to move the High Pontiff from off the altar. One was a boy dressed in armor that gave an indication he was from the Wolflame house, and the other was a blonde girl with large blue eyes. "Your Holiness, it is time to let go," the Wolflame boy told the older man.
"Dearly beloved... recite the vows that..." he hardly seemed to register presence.
"What should we do?" Serpico whispered into her ear. "We haven't heard from Harry since his capture. Do we seek him out on our own?"
"You're damn right we do!" Sirius said as quietly as he could, not that anyone would pay him any mind.
"A rescue from a rescue," Sir Azan surmised the situation. "An honorable action as any!"
"Lady Farnese?" Serpico asked, letting the choice fall to her.
"I... agree. We cannot leave Harry alone to rot. Serpico, do you think you and Sirius would be able to sneak off to the dungeons to try and find him?"
"I'll be as swift-footed as I can be," her long-time companion assured her.
Sirius shifted his robe to show the base of his wand. "Not all magic requires an invisibility cloak."
She nodded. "Alright then." The voices and protests of the hall were getting momentum. "The two of you go and-,"
"There!" the blonde girl who was now at the altar shouted out above all the rest, her young voice carrying across the hall. She was pointing to something, something coming in through the set of doors.
At first, Farnese did not see it, not all of it. It blended in too well with the overall theme of white that the palace seemed to have in abundance, and it did not help that the sun was shining in through the glass windows either. When she did look at it, she had to squint to not only discern it from all the white but to protect her eyes as well. "Is that...?"
Floating before the hall was a white avian shape that seemed to radiate light from its body. Along with that light came a sense of serene calmness that was sorely lacking at the present moment. Looking at it now, Farnese felt that she was able to only think of her fondest of memories, even from her days as Commander of the Holy Iron Chain Knights. It was as if her worries were momentarily forgotten in the briefest of seconds that could have stretched into minutes or even hours.
As the white bird of prey lifted its head, Farnese swore that it looked straight over to her. It began to speak - no. It didn't speak. Rather, it allowed a familiar voice to be heard.
"Let the others know to be ready."
It was short, it was simple, and it was all the signal Farnese needed to know what needed to be done.
Sensing that it had done its job, the Patronus faded into a wispy mist that seemed as if it was never there at all. And then the chaos started up once more.
"What was that?!" "You saw it too?" "It looked like..." "Was it the Hawk of Light?" "Was this Lord Griffith's doing? The same as when he fought the Emperor?" But none appeared more stunned and in awe than the two youths still unsuccessfully trying to move the High Pontiff.
"A corporeal Patronus," Sirius quietly muttered. "If only you could see him now, James."
Farnese turned to her bug-eyed, slack-jawed elder brother Magnifico who was staring at where the Patronus had just disappeared. "Magnifico," Farnese said to him, shaking his shoulder to get his attention. "Magnifico!" she said a bit more forcefully.
Her brother sputtered. "Huh, hrm, y-yes?"
"You're going to be pleased, but you can probably leave by now," she told him.
His eyes seemed to brighten. "Truly? You mean it?"
"There are conditions," Farnese reminded. "See how many of the guests here you can get out as well. Then, get back to the inn we stayed at and let Luca know. She'll see what she can do to get the common folk evacuated to the sewers."
"Well... yes, alright," Magnifico relented any retort he could think of. "But, what will I say to get these people out of here? They'll be wanting answers to what just happened."
"You're a Vandimion. Surely that amounts to something." And if Farnese could rely on her brother for anything, it was to throw around the family name when it suited him best. If his best was up to par had remained to be seen, however.
The only thing moving faster than his feet were his thoughts. They echoed in the halls of Falconia as he ran, taking him farther, back, all along the interior of the once stainless city capital. Blood had been spilled already, not directly by his hand, but the stain would still be there. Harry wondered why Rosine had killed that knight when she did but knew that ultimately, it didn't matter. If he had made an impact on her life, the choice had been her own, the same as it had been Charlotte's.
With his Patronus sent, there remained one clear goal left for him to complete; sever the link between the Godhand and their power. Going off the knowledge Flora had distilled in him during his studies, different places and relics often had ties to the astral world. There was a branch from the World Tree that dipped down into the open ceiling of the ceremony hall where Farnese and the others probably were right now. But that couldn't be it. It would be far too obvious and easy if that were the case.
Harry cursed himself. He should have said so much more in the message that he sent, there was no way he could convey all he had to say with what he had. His best chance stood with reuniting with them now, get out of the palace safely and then find a spot that would have some connection to the deepest part of the astral layer, the Abyss.
As he furthered along a bend in the hall, a smell most horrid invaded his sense of smell; the smell of blood. His boot made a quick splat as the toe touched a thick, red liquid pooling outward and staining the once untarnished white marble floor.
There, slumped against the wall was the figure of a knight with dark brown hair and a well-trimmed beard. His sword was laid at his side and contained more than a few chips in the metal, but his armor was what faired the worst. A hole looked to puncture straight through his chest if the stain of blood on the wall was any indication. His blue eyes were open and dark, cast down at the ground, staring at the blood that continued to pool around him.
Approaching cautiously, Harry knew who it was without having to move the body.
Sighing in cursed frustration, Harry was going to keep on his path, casting only one look at the fallen knight, an act that ended up saving his life.
Through the bloodstained armor, there were spots that remained untarnished. And from the light reflected off of the metal protection, he caught a flash of grey-silver that was coming up from his blindside flank.
Swinging his staff arm to the side, Harry recited the spell for the banishing charm, knocking the swing of the strike away from him. Kacrik! the long, metal lance impaled itself in the wall, the eyes of the wielder reflected a dark storm about to be unleashed.
Getting both his staff and sword at the ready, Harry stood and faced the Moonlight Knight, Sir Locus.
"Just my luck I would run into you," Locus spoke with calm, unbridled resentment. "It was you. You came here and ruined a beautiful ceremony."
"You can save the knighthood romanticism for someone who actually cares," Harry said. Not wasting any time, Harry levitated Laban's fallen sword and made it shoot straight toward Locus' flank.
The lancer apostle predicted this move, however, and moved his lance in a horizontal arc, batting the makeshift projectile aside as if it was little more than a fly. Preparing for a fatal attack, Locus was about to pivot and lunge when Harry fired off a spell to shatter one of the halls tall windows. Like the sword, he levitated the shards and sent them hurtling toward the fake knight.
Locus acted quickly in shifting to a defensive stance to block the shards from piercing his pale eyes, his arms moving to protect his face. Most of the glass shattered helplessly against the impeccable design of the metal, but some shards did manage to get a good lick in, notably, a loose strand of his oily, midnight black hair fell to the ground along with a quick drop of blood from a cut on his cheek.
The disguised demon sneered at him, his would-be handsome face resembled a melting candle. "Cheeky bastard," Locus hissed out through clenched teeth. "I've already gotten word to my fellow War Demons, they'll be joining me shortly."
Harry met his gaze, ready if he should pull a fast trick on him. "Do you really need all that help just for me? I guess if you want to keep up the act, you'd pretend to be courteous."
Locus' sneer deepened along with his loathing. "I would take the greatest of pleasure in transforming now to finish you off, but you are not mine to kill." Locus ran an armored finger over where the glass had grazed his flesh. "But where would my honor in a knight be if I did not assist another apostle in their endeavor?"
There were footsteps approaching their location at a rapid pace. Thinking it was more of the War Demons, Harry raised his staff in defense and was surprised to see the reinforcements that came were that of the regular castle guard. "Sir Locus!" the lead boy cried out. "We came when you summoned for- General Laban?!" they had noticed the body of the fallen knight.
Not sparing a glance behind him, Locus said, "Your arrival is welcome, young Wolflame. The wizard intruder from yesterday has escaped his cell. He bewitched good Queen Charlotte into leaving her wedding and abducted her with his sorcerer's ways before killing General Laban."
That bastard! Seeing what Locus was doing, Harry pointed his staff to the ceiling and sent a blasting hex at it causing bits and chunks of rubble to fall down on the reinforcements and Locus. The ones who raised their shields above their heads were spared from the attack and those who didn't fell to the ground. Locus simply pierced straight through some of the rubble with his lance, with a sweeping arc, he launched them back off and toward Harry.
Seeing the attack coming, Harry slowed the velocity of the projectiles and blasted them straight back to Locus who was growing frustrated with these games despite keeping a cool mask on. Locus began to advance.
Not wanting to risk straining himself fighting an apostle like Locus, Harry made it seem he meant to blast another part of the ceiling to halt Locus in his path. When he saw Locus about to switch to a defensive stance, he instead blasted the floor in front of the apostle with such force it created a hole to the floor below. Halting in his pursuit, Harry took the time to continue along the opposite way of Locus and the human knights.
That moon bastard was slippery. By bringing the regular guard into this, he was taking measures to confine Harry to the palace interior. Soon, he'd be trapped between a legion of knights from the continent over and a pack of bloodthirsty demons and a dark wizard; and if the worst came true, Neo-Griffith as well. There was one silver lining to this, he still had the invisibility cloak. It had worked out well the first time, why would now be any different?
Halting only momentarily to put the cloak over himself, Harry continued to where he believed the ceremony hall to be, if his Patronus was able to find it, he should too. About to descend a flight of stairs, Harry suddenly pressed his body against the side as another group of knights started their ascent, a blonde girl trailing behind them.
"Is Mule this way?" Harry heard the girl ask. "I have to tell him something important!"
"Go back to your room, girl," a knight ordered her. "It isn't safe for you to be out with the intruder on the loose. If you're not careful, he might abduct you too."
"But my friend Luna told me he's a good person. Sir Locus must be mistaken." This girl was Sonia.
"Then your friend doesn't know the sky from the ground!" another snapped at the girl. "We're dealing with a wizard here, who knows what kind of tricks he has up his sleeve. My advice, either shut up or go find Lord Griffith, ask him yourself." Sonia seemed to settle on the former, continuing her pursuit after the knights.
He pondered the idea of perhaps reaching out to the medium seeing as she knew about Luna and the existence of other astral layers, but he thought against it. There was no telling how loyal she still was to Neo-Griffith and if she would even go along with him at all. Finding Farnese and the others were still his top priority at the moment. Once the sounds of footsteps receded, Harry proceded downward.
The cramped confines of the stairs behind him, Harry was racing along a relatively open wall with a long balcony running the outside. From this vantage point, he could virtually see the entire layout of the city. Some branches from the World Tree sloped down to nearly touching the tops of some of the houses and shops in varying districts.
Someplace in the city with a connection to the past... a place like that was sure to exist. It would be small or even inconsequential to the naked eye, or even staring him straight in the face. A place that would have depth and meaning, something liked to Gaiseric. The whole city was supposed to be modeled after the capital of old. Something that didn't fit, that would have some meaning, something small and blue.
What?
His eyes weren't deceiving him. Flying his way was a blue blur so fast that if he were to blink he would have missed it. The blur paused as it assessed the possible points of entry before settling on this floor.
Breezing right in like he owned the place, the elf took a brief look around before making ready to fly off further.
He couldn't refrain. "Puck!"
Hearing his name called, Puck did a double take, seeing no one, he blinked. Harry's hand left the confines of the cloak and grabbed the small creature. "H-hey!" Puck cried as Harry pulled him under the cloak.
"Puck, it's me!"
Blue eyes widened. "Holy-! You're still alive!" his voice was filled with pure joy at seeing the wizard. "How did... never mind! We've all been worried sick about you."
"You flew all the way from Doldrey to find me?" Harry asked.
"Not from Doldrey, from out in the woods," Puck casually said. "Me, Guts, Casca, everyone, we're all here. The portkey you had, Charlotte and her people got out just fine. And with a little help from out bony friend, here we are." Everyone was here? Then there could be only one outcome if Puck spoke the truth. The elf studied his face. "They thought you might be a bit out of the loop. Here." Puck unwrapped the green hairs he had tied around his waist and presented them to Harry.
Accepting the gift, Harry tied the hairs around his finger and sent out a thought, Schierke?
'Harry!' a multitude of voices ranging from Schierke, Casca, Isidro, and Farnese all shouted into his head at once. 'Where are you?' 'We're outside the city now. what's going on with you?' 'Just tell us where you are and we'll see if we can make it to you.'
Everyone! Harry mentally shouted. I'm fine, don't worry about me. What's been going on with all of you? Casca, you're outside the city?
'We are. We're moving against him, finally. I'm not about to let him take any more Hawks away.'
'Rickert and I are planting some of his bombs right now near those feather rock things. Things seem pretty quiet out here.'
'Magnifico has convinced a significant portion of the guests to leave the palace. Things are looking to pick up. Guards are scrambling about everywhere.'
Are you still inside?
'We're near the doors. Sirius seems to have bewitched the one guard to keep the doors open for as long as we need, but I don't know how long until others get suspicious. Just tell us where you are and we can meet up with you.'
If they were near the doors, they had a way out. Knowing the trouble that was sure to come their way if they lingered any longer, that wouldn't be safe for them to stay. If they could meet up someplace that was more isolated... and he spotted it. South of the palace and to the east. A tower stood, almost frozen in time, ancient compared to the flawless craft of Falconia's homes and shops.
The Tower of Rebirth.
"The city, or, it's remains, lie at the bottom of this hole. It was built in the middle of nations, so it earned the name Midland."
A place with a connection.
Farnese, listen carefully. I know where we have to go.
Pandemonium was in a state of pandemonium. Very few War Demons were in their true apostle form, but the cries and the yells for blood were very much alive. Voldemort had grown somewhat used to their behavior, he was still above it, naturally, but this he could understand. His blood was near a boil as well. Locus had informed Grunbeld that there were intruders in the palace.
He cared not for this world's leaders or its people and if anything happened to any of them, it was no skin off his back. No. What bothered him to know was that the intruder was none other than Harry Potter.
The very wizard he had been chasing after for so long was right here, under his nose no less. Did Femto really not foresee this? He knew a thing or two about how arrogance can blind a man and he could see the proof when it was in the pudding. What's more, he was learning that Potter had been captured and held captive the previous night. Why had he not been informed of that? He would have dealt with Potter quickly. But here he was, in Pandemonium with the rest of the apostles listening to the man who called himself Griffith explain the details.
"I hear your cries for blood, I will take no such thing away from you. Captains, present yourselves." Apostles like Zodd, Grunbeld, Rakshas, and then Voldemort stepped forward. He felt his Death Eaters lingering behind him, closer than the other apostles to their captains, Bellatrix especially.
"The fliers are to mobilize and patrol the city skies, the titan units are to establish guard in every distract from the palace to the gate. Rakshas, take to the streets, take to the shadows."
"My Prince," Grunbeld took a knee and still managed to remain taller than most. "What of Sir Locus and Sir Irvine?"
"The Lancer Captain seems to have already mobilized his forces and dispersed them to and fro," the Godhand answered. "He'll be punished for his hastiness, I assure you. Irvine is patrolling the woods. I've sent a falcon to summon him back."
"Hasty for just one wizard?" Rakshas cackled at the mention of Locus. "He has always been far too serious. I almost pity the man, if he was one."
The Godhand looked at the masked apostle with restrained emotion. "The wizard is far from alone." They all seemed to know not to press further. "You have your instructions, mobilize yourselves." The masses cheered and roared as they began filing into ranks, Grunbeld was already practically out the exit and to the bridge. Voldemort lingered
"Lord Griffith," he strained the word. "Surely you have not forgotten about me and my forces? Where do we stand in your grand plan?" Two sets of slit pupil eyes regarded the other.
"I promised you that the boy wizard would be yours to finish, I stand by what I said. Magic is at your disposal, use any means you deem necessary."
"Any means?" Voldemort fought back a small smile. "Some magic can be worse than others and Potter has proven himself to be a slippery one."
"Ruinous as well," the Godhand said. "Locus may be a fool, but he is a tenacious one at that. To have bewitched and abducted the Queen as well as murdering an esteemed general, he surely means to see Falconia in ruins."
Voldemort's red eyes gleamed in understanding. Slytherin indeed. "That is all I wanted to know, Lord Griffith. I thank you for informing me." More than you care to know.
The Godhand regarded him and gave a dismissive nod before turning his attention to the organizing ranks of apostles.
"My Lord," Bellatrix spoke next to him. "What are your orders?"
Voldemort's hand went to the yew wand that he had committed so many spells with over the years. Magic was might. "I am done waiting for Potter to come to me. He is here, somewhere, it is just a matter of weeding him out." It was time to remind Potter and his followers why he was named "the Dark Lord."
"So, you are done taking the words of the divine to heart?" Voldemort grit his teeth at the sound of the voice. "You finally display an understanding."
He could see Bellatrix and the rest looking at the other apostle in silent loathing. He spoke before a curse could be uttered. "Strange, considering you said you issued a prophecy to him before. Perhaps the longevity of hundreds of years is starting to fade."
The eyes of the Fliers Captain gleamed with unspoken excitement. "And what of yours? Do you claim you accepted the offer for another reason other than to save your own life? Look around you, you are surrounded by those who made the same choice as you." He paused. "The prophecy I spoke was from what I knew, not what was true. Can you claim the same? Whose faith do you truly believe?"
Voldemort felt his brow furrow and his nostrils flare. "There can only be one of us living. That is what I know to be fact."
The captain regarded him. "Mmm. I look forward to seeing your fight with him; if I am not occupied with the Black Swordsman."
"You speak of the man who humiliated me." Voldemort felt the scar he had received during the battle bristle in irritation. "He will get his comeuppance as well."
The once amusement faded from the other apostle's equally red eyes. "You have your fight, I have my mine." He turned to leave. "And that is what I know to be fact, prophecy or no."
He watched the captain stalk off to assemble the others of his division. "Tch!" he spat. The arrogance was as worse as any Gryffindor he had known. Voldemort knew he had his fair share of arrogant moments as well, his scar was proof enough, but he had always kept that side in check with a calculated mind. It was why he despised the one called Griffith more than any apostle; because he seemed to do the same.
"Come," Voldemort began walking behind where Grunbeld had assembled his troops. We are leaving."
He and his Death Eaters seemed to get absorbed into the ranks as the other War Demons raced to get out and across the bridge to the palace. Despite his immense size and heavy armor, Grunbeld and his Titan unit were already more than halfway across. Voldemort and the rest were only just beginning their trek across. Behind them, Rakshas seemed to melt into the shadows and disappeared from sight. Zodd and his fliers were behind them as well, but he did not seem to want to cross the bridge. He shifted into his apostle form and spread his wings, ready to take flight, his troops doing the same.
"You are that eager to fight already?" Voldemort mockingly asked.
Zodd had started to take to the sky. "I thought you knew you would fight your rival. I intend to see mine through to fruition." He took off, his Fliers beating their wings after him.
Voldemort frowned, a tingle going along his spine. He looked around, seeing if his Death Eaters had felt the same sensation he had just then. Only Bella seemed to furrow her brow in a curious glance. He knew what the thrill of going into battle was like, this was not it. This was something different, something... magical. What Zodd had said, the feeling of danger building in his core, knowing that Potter had been here... Potter had been here.
He raised his hand, halting his Death Eaters as the other War Demons continued to pass them, snarling at them for the sudden hold-up. "My Lord?" he did not answer, his eyes were scanning the bridge. Potter had been here...
If Potter was as powerful and clever as the Godhand and other apostles made him out to be, he would have to have a plan for coming here. If Voldemort had the opportunity to sneak into the enemy side, what would he do? What traps would he create?
From under the marching feet of the army, a certain spot seemed to glow purple. It pulsated like a beating heart, a heart about to stop. A rune.
Eyes going wide, Voldemort drew his wand in a fury and cast, "Protego!" the magical shield enveloped around him, his Death Eaters and few War Demons behind them. It happened not a split second after.
WhhhhhBoooooooossssssssssss!
A sudden pressure condensed in and exploded outwards in a magically charged blast of combustion, a giant purple cloud followed in its wake, dispensing the fog that usually obscured the bridge, or what was now left of it. The explosion was so loud, so bright that it left his ears ringing and eyes burning, the screams of the War Demons caught in the blast followed after, their bodies falling down into the emptiness below. Some tried shifting to their true forms, but if they did not have wings, they did not have a chance at life.
How many had just gone over? Looking across to the other side of the now destroyed bridge, Grunbeld and his unit were across, and he and his Death Eaters had been spared as well, same with any who did not make it to the center of the bridge. He estimated a good twenty or thirty had just been blasted to their final death.
Runes, of course, it would be runes! They were tricky and a difficult branch of magic to understand, but they were incredibly useful. He had even used some during the first Wizarding War, the muggle news had just reported it as being bombings. Potter had seemed to have the same idea. He had prepared it to activate when a large mass of apostles had crossed over it. It was just like what he did with his own runes when someone not bearing the Dark Mark entered a place they were occupying during the war.
And he felt envious. Potter would have made a fine Slytherin, he came up with this idea without so much as even studying about the tactics he used during the first war, and he was succeeding at them.
She didn't have to be close to the palace to hear the resulting explosion. When it happened, several visiting patrons either spit out their drinks, fell off their seats, or scrambled to the window to see what had happened.
"What in the hell was that?" one patron asked.
Luca sighed and mumbled to herself. "I guess this is what they meant when they told me I'd know when to act." She had shown the dark man around the city districts as well where he inscribed those strange symbols. If that was the result of just one... she needed to act fast. "Pepe!" she called out to one of the barmaids.
"Miss Luca did you hear that?!" the younger girl exclaimed, the tray of drinks spilling to the floor.
She pulled her aside. "That I did. That I did. Listen, go gather the other girls and go round up as many people as you can. Get to the sewers, those who don't follow you, tell them to stay in their homes and don't come out no matter what."
"Ah, o-okay. What are you going to do?"
Luca put her fingers to her lips. "Phweee!" she whistled, getting everyone's attention. "Everyone! The bar's going to be closing a bit earlier than expected. But to compensate, all drinks are free of charge. Go home to your families or follow any one of my barmaids to a safer location. Thank you." She sighed again. I really hope they know what they're doing.
"Pass me another one."
Isidro held out his hands as Rickert tossed him another one of the bombs. The blonde youth would have shown more care with them if they were traditional bombs, but since these were rigged with some sort of magic, Schierke would activate them whenever he gave the thought to her. He didn't get it, but he didn't have to to know that an awesome explosion would happen when it was ready.
Using his dagger, Isidro started hacking the ground near those wing-shaped rocks, making it big enough to fit the rounded piece of metal. Once it was in, he filled the hole with the soil he had unearthed. "That's your fifth one already," Rickert noted. "You're good at this."
"I grew up in the mountains, you know," Isidro recalled. "Stole a lot of things that weren't exactly mine and I needed a safe space to hide all of it, so I just started digging holes."
"Well, glad to see that thievery has paid off for you." Rickert handed him a spare bomb as they made their way to the next of the stones. Some were larger than others, the largest having been closer to the forest and they had planted four bombs next to it for safe measure.
"How many more do we have anyway?" Isidro felt inclined to ask. "I mean, we don't want any bowing up in your bag once I tell Schierke to do her magic thing or whatever." And after hearing that one explosion from all the way out here, he didn't want to risk being near one when it went off.
"Excluding the one that I just gave you, about three." Rickert took one for himself and the two of them got to work on unearthing the ground near the latest of the rocks. "I had to make a rough estimate at how many to bring, I only briefly saw them when I got in the first time."
Isidro was ahead in progress. "Hey, you seem to have got a pretty good amount to me. We should be done after this."
Rickert smiled warily. "I suppose so. The sooner we finish up, the better." He moved the soil back in place. "You all set then?" Isidro nodded in affirmation. "Then let's hurry and-,"
"Pardon me." A respectful voice interjected. Isidro swallowed a ball of saliva. Of course, it wouldn't be this easy. Turning to see who their intruder was, he saw it was a slim man dressed in purple hunting garb and a hat as well, a bow and arrow hung from his shoulder.
A hunter? What was he doing here? He spared a glance over to Rickert to see the older boy with an equally startled expression. But spending time with Puck and even having Schierke's hairs had taught him how to get a pretty good read on people, and Rickert's expression was proof that this man was one of those apostles.
"I must ask, what are the both of you doing out here?" he kept a soft tone, not giving any sign he meant them harm.
Rickert licked his lips after swallowing his spit as well. "You see-,"
"-The old farmer sent us out here!" Isidro lied easily. He had been scamming the elders in his village long enough to know what cards to play when lying to a stranger. "He kept saying his knees hurt too much to be out here working, but I know that isn't true. He just wanted to see if he could get into Queen Charlotte's wedding, the old perv. I mean, from what I heard, the Queen is a sight to behold."
He felt like he was being stared at by a wolf. "Do try to have respect when talking about your queen." Isidro did his best to hide a nervous gulp. "But many farmers have taken the day to try and be in attendance for the wedding. You have my sympathy for having to work in his stead."
"Heh, yeah, funny how that works out." While Isidro kept the act up, he had to wonder, did this apostle believe him, or did he see through the lie and was luring them into a sense of security?
"And he wanted you to till the soil without any proper tools, right next to these rocks?"
Crap! He was suspicious. "Well, yeah," he tried to think of a lie to get out of this one. "He-,"
"-He said he heard the most fertile stock grows the closer you are to them, Sir Irvine," Rickert thankfully join in. "He didn't want other farmers to know we were coming out to plant the seed, so he told us not to bring our tools, just what we could carry." Damn, that actually fit.
Irvine pondered him longer than he had Isidro. Does he maybe recognize him?
"Be that as it may, he should know that it is dangerous to be outside the city unsupervised," Irvine relented.
"Yeah," Isidro played along. "But, that explosion just now, I'm sort of glad we were out here when it happened. I bet the old man wishes he didn't slack off today."
Irvine's pale eyes traveled to the puffs of purple smoke that were drifting from behind the palace. "All the more reason for me to make haste. I do apologize in advance for what you're about to see." Before their very eyes, Irvine began to change. Hair began sprouting from his face and arms, his outfit being replaced by shaggy, black fur, his nose tip flattening to partly resemble a wolf and his teeth growing sharper, and that was just his torso. Where his legs used to be was now the body of a direwolf beast with two antlers protruding from its head which only had a single eye.
"Sorry if this comes as a shock to you," Irvine apologized as he reached for the two youths, picked them up and put them on the body of the wolf. "But we will return much faster to the capital like this." With all the speed of a wolf as well as the entire pack, Irvine was dashing back to the walled city.
Crap! If he keeps going at this rate, he'll come across Guts and all of them. Schierke, you there?
'We're here, Silat and a few of his men got up the wall and are going to open the gate for the rest of us. Where are you?'
On the back of an apostle.
'You- what?!'
We got found and now he's taking us back to the city. If he goes any faster he's going to meet up with you guys and its only a matter of time before he sounds some kind of alarm.
'...You're right. Is there any way of slowing him down?'
I don't know, you're the smart one, I thought you would have some ideas! But I don't see how- wait.
"Rosine?" Irvine suddenly spoke, slowing his pace to a trot as he glanced up at the sky. Isidro followed his gaze and could discern a greenish blur that was making its way across the sky. Another apostle? "Rosine!" Irvine yelled loud enough for the apostle to hear. It seemed to have worked.
Flying down to eye level was a girl apostle who had luminescent wings on her back, bug eyes, and an antenna on her head. She was probably around his age, maybe a bit younger.
"What is it?" Rosine asked, sounding emotionlessly frantic.
"Why are you leaving the capital? I got the letter from the falcon just fine. Have you come to report an update?" Irvine waited for her answer.
She was hesitant to reply. "I don't know anything going on there."
"That explosion just now, are you-?"
"I'm fine, Irvine. I just... I won't be going back there, I can't."
"Rosine, what are you talking about? What happened?"
Isidro tapped Rickert and mouthed the words, "get ready to run." It wasn't his best idea, he hardly got any of those, but he had a feeling this would make Guts awfully proud.
"You wouldn't understand," Rosine said, continuing her conversation, sparing the two ridealongs only a momentary glance. "I just realize that I wouldn't be... wouldn't..." she was staring at them, more importantly, at Rickert.
Oh, don't tell me this is that girl apostle that came after him when he tried to escape! It was. He was going to have to act fast then. He took the satchel containing the last bomb from Rickert and swung it over one of the antlers of Irvine's apostle form and gave Rickert a push off the side of the wolf body, he followed shortly after.
Schierke! he thought. Do you're magic, blow the bombs!
'Are you a safe distance away? You could end up-?'
Just do it, please!
Rosine watched them run, Irvine was ready to take off after them. She glanced at the smoke from the explosion at the palace, her eyes went back to the bag hanging from Irvine's antler. It clicked. Rosine snatched the satchel from his body and tossed it back toward the two boys running away, not seeing if it caught them or not. She, Irvine, and even Isidro and Rickert could see nothing as a bright flash illuminated the field, followed closely by several other bursts of light that illuminated anything, save for safety.
Guts had to hand it to Silat, the bastard's slipperiness came in handy when it was convenient for them. He and his men had managed to scale the wall using their ropes and were making ready to open the gate. For any guards who were on station, the only indication of a struggle came in the sound of a few faint clangs of metal on metal before silence fell; a silence only broken by the grinding of metal as the portcullis was raised.
They had just barely made it through when a deafening noise shattered the silence.
Kawhooooo!
It sounded like the one that had rocked the back of the palace, only much closer. He could see huge plumes of purplish smoke rise up in the farmer's field just beyond the wall where they were now.
"Rickert and Isidro make it out okay?" Guts looked down at his witch companion.
Schierke opened her green eyes, having just completed her activating of the bombs. "He sounded... frantic. I... hold on." He could tell she was reaching out to their other companion to check on him.
'Isidro...' Guts heard the voice of Schierke inside his head. 'What's going on? Give me something.' There was no immediate reply. 'Isidro...'
'Here...'
'Oh thank goodness!' Guts could feel the relief roll off of the witch. 'You and Rickert made it out safely?'
'Rickert...?' Isidro sounded dazed and confused. 'He's... I'm right here with him. Don't know about...' the connection was fine, but Isidro's voice seemed to be growing distant, fainter, weaker.
'Isidro?'
Silat!" Guts called to the Kushan who was meeting them at the other end of the gate.
The Kushan regarded him with a bemused expression. "Was my performance unsatisfactory? I sustained no losses and casualties were kept to a bare minimum."
"The fields outside," Guts said, not caring for a report. "Have one of your people go and check on Isidro and Rickert. They're out there right now."
Silat's two bodyguards came up beside him and he hissed a command in Kushan to the one who bowed before barrelling out of the gate to the field outside. "Fret not," Silat smoothed. "The blacksmith and the brat will be in good hands." If Silat was willing to put his life in the other Kushan's hands, Guts would take his word on that.
"They'll be fine," Casca did her best to assure Schierke of that, maybe believing it herself.
'You're all inside?' Harry's voice reached them by thought.
Yeah, we're here. Where are you and the others?
'I'm with Puck, we're just getting out of the palace now. I told Farnese and the others where I need to get to, the Tower of Rebirth.'
What about Griffith? Guts asked. Have you seen him at all?
'Not since I was captured, no. But you won't be able to fully kill him unless I get to that tower.'
'That's where you mean to sever the connection?' Schierke frantically asked.
'It's the best place for it,' Harry replied.
'Well... don't do it until Farnese and I are there!' Schierke warned. 'If you try and do it alone, it might kill you in the process. Magic is stronger when others join in.'
'I know. The two of you can erect a barrier around so-,'
'You're not doing it alone.' Schierke would no doubt have said more if the sound of Guts drawing Dragonslayer hadn't snapped her from her thoughts.
He had spotted them. Up in the sky, a flock of winged beasts had taken to the air. Some resembled small dragons, others giant bugs, and a distinct horned one with bat-like wings that was at the front of the pack. They knew of the fight that was approaching.
"If you want to give him an earful, do it in person," Guts advised as he spotted the top of the tower. It was more than a fair distance away. "Hey, Silat, I have another job for you." The Kushan waited. "Have your men take to the rooftops, have them scout the clearest path to the tower, any dead ends, enemies, anything. We're not slowing down."
He barked a few more commands in his native tongue and the Bakiraka dispersed. No sooner had they done so than Guts began down the main street of the city in pursuit. Silat kept close to his clan, occasionally going from rooftop to back on the ground with the Guts and the rest.
"The right leads to a dead end alley," Silat said as a scout reported back to him. "Stright ahead is our best option before a side street opens up again."
Nodding in affirmation, Guts took the knowledge and continued on the street they were on now. He kept his eye moving constantly, scanning for the next turn or the side street that was promised. He scanned the roofs too to see if any scout was on the way to report back soon.
Casca's pace seemed to falter. "Something's wrong." Silat seemed to think so as well as he drew his katars.
As Guts scanned the roofs, he had to squint his eye as a shining light was reflected in his gaze. Blinking, he saw spots, as well as an armor-clad man with midnight black hair that reached his shoulders and a lance in his hand; a lance that had the body of a Bakiraka impaled through the chest. The Moonlight Knight.
The apostle flung the body from his lance and jumped from the roof, his lance set to impale the smallest among them.
Guts moved faster, Dragonslayer batting the lance aside, creating more than a large chink in the lance. Locus' face molded into an impassive scowl as he landed, small streams of smoke emanating from his body.
"Grunbeld spoke of your speed," the apostle kept smoking. "Have you even activated that armor of yours yet?" Locus was growing in height, the smoke consuming him, his armor stretching. "You'll find mine to be up to par."
Locus was now a silvery centaur creature with a lance melded onto his forearm, his eyes were a visor of glowing yellow. His metal hooves kicked the ground and Guts advanced. With all the grace and speed of a stallion, Locus jumped over the swing entirely, aiming his own cut at Guts from above who deflected it with his prosthetic arm.
Barely touching the ground after landing behind Guts, Locus jumped again, landing on the side of a building before kicking off again. This time, he had his lance set to impale either Schierke or Casca.
Grabbing the other girl, Casca rolled to the side as the tip of the lance struck the stones of the street instead. He quickly withdrew his weapon, going now for Silat who just barely managed to catch the tip of the lance by crossing his blades around the point.
"Young Master!" Silat's one bodyguard cried as he jumped at the prospect of protecting the other Bakiraka.
Rearing up on his hind legs, Locus brought his front two hooves swinging down toward the bodyguard who took the brunt of the blow on his crossed forearms. There was a sickening cracking noise as the metal hooves made contact.
Casca rushed Locus from the side, her armor seemed to weight next to nothing as the ruby pommel of her sword gleamed just as bright as Locus' eyes. Her blow was clean and true, landing a hit night on his neck with a resounding, clsiish! but it did not go through. The goblin-made steel managed to make a dent in the organic armor that covered Locus' body, but it seemed little more than a mosquito bite to the apostle.
He took a swipe at her which she blocked with her sword and the armguard of her armor causing sparks to fly where the two metals collided.
Guts raced over to her, Dragonslayer poised to tear right through Locus' protective coating. Even with his eye still seeing spots, he was able to see the shadow that fell over him. Another apostle was crawling from one roof to the other, a long, caterpillar looking thing with its multiple legs all sharpened to a point as fine as any sword. he acted fast to bring Dragonslayer up to deflect one of the legs from stabbing him in the neck.
Torn between who to help, Silat chose the least dangerous and threw one of his chakrams at the apostle between the rooftops, the disk slicing through one of the legs. Guts capitalized on the situation by thrusting Dragonslayer straight up and plunging the blade through the apostles exposed underbelly. A foul stench filled the air as Guts cut forward, spilling dark blood and hot, steaming intestines down to the once clean cobblestone road.
"Oooghhhhhaa!" the apostle gave one last death gurgle as its body came crashing down in two separate parts.
His target was now Locus, who made good use of his apostle form and used the environment to his advantage. He knew his lance was too long to just swing around in the street itself, so he kept to jumping and lunging for his intended targets. He got lucky and impaled Silat's bodyguard through the leg, just below the knee. He would have finished him off if Casca and Silat had not flanked him from the side, their weapons bouncing harmlessly off of his hardened metallic skin.
Guts was close to them now, he was confident that Dragonslayer would succeed where the other attacks were failing against the Moonlight Knight.
Thrum! Thrum! Thrum! Thurm!
Heavy footsteps were approaching fast. From the left, the side of a shop was demolished as another of Locus' lancers burst onto the scene. A squat but large reptilian apostle with a massive set of heavy set jaws that seemed a mix between the scally green of a crocodile and the power of a shark. The familiar pair of jaws opened wide before snapping shut on Guts' prosthetic arm as they had before, holding him in place.
Locus continued to dance around his multiple opponents, their attacks ringing harmlessly off of his hide. Schierke looked ready to perform a spell of some sort, but Locus never stood still long enough for her to cast it properly. He seemed every bit immune as he was graceful. A knight in a monster's body. But even the strongest of knights had to be able to move.
Casca, his legs. Guts thought to her, hoping she would know what to do. He turned his attention back to the apostle biting down on his prosthetic arm. This would one didn't need to be severed. Gripping the string with his teeth, Guts jerked his head as the cannon fired off.
Baboom!
Smoke and fire filled the large maw of the apostle as the cannon fired straight inside, tearing straight through the stomach and other internal organs. "Bwhaaagghh!" the apostle was forced to open its maw, smoke billowing out in dark plumes.
"Arrgh!" Guts felt the fury in him as he let Dragonslayer cut straight through the open maw, nearly severing it in two equal halves, just a few strong tendons remained to keep the upper and lower jaws attached. Raising Dragonslayer high above his head, Guts gave another fearsome cry as he drove the blade down straight through the top of the jaws, through the bottom and then into the cobblestone below.
When he pulled it free, the top portion finally severed, leaving only a smoldering corpse behind.
As he finished with that apostle, Casca understood what had to be done with Locus. Instead of going right for the torso or the head, she was trying to get behind him, to cut him right behind the knees. It was easier in concept as Locus never seemed to stay still long enough for her to get behind him. Silat was slippery, but he seemed more concerned with staying on the defense and keeping Locus at a distance. Schierke had to keep moving as well, Locus seemed to recognize her having magic as a threat and made several attempts to run her through with his lance. silat's near crippled bodyguard snatched her up and rolled to keep her in one piece.
Turning his attention back to Casca, Locus made a move to dash at her but was then intercepted by Guts. His glowing yellow visor burned a dangerous shade as he eyed the newest challenger. Locus' face was metallic as the rest of his body, but if his features were able to move properly, Guts had no doubt that they would be in a deep scowl.
Wasting no time, Guts swung Dragonslayer at Locus' front two legs. As expected, Locus was faster. He reared up as a means of escape and before he could jump back or take off, Schierke found the time to do her spell.
"Fiends!" Locus cried as he looked to see that the stone ground beneath him was grabbing onto his rear hooves, holding him in place. He made ready to cut himself free form the trap when he took sight of a new danger coming toward him. "Perish at the hands of a captain of the Band of the Hawk!" he took a mad swing at Casca who ducked under the wide arc and rolled behind the apostle.
Her sword cut through the back of his knees much easier than the rest of him.
Metallic blue, almost black blood spurted out of Locus' wounds as his back legs severed from the rest of his body. "Gnaah!" Locus tried supporting his weight on his lance and tried to hobble away, but Guts wasn't having it. Dragonslayer cut his arm at the elbow, more blood shot out from his wounds. "You... devils!" Locus collapsed to the ground. "Look at what you have done! Monsters! You endanger Falconia and her people! They will die without knights like me! Lord Griffith needs me! I am a knight!" his blazing visor stared them all down with cruel malice.
It seemed a strangely fitting end as Casca thrust her sword into the visor of the apostle and the faux knight. The cost of following the Hawk was finally realized.
The view from the very top of the palace was a grand sight, but not one that Voldemort intended to savor any time soon. From here he had a view of the entire city and layout before him, taking the free reign that had been allotted to him and putting it to good use.
Ever since the explosion at the bridge, he and his followers had to magically repair it so the rest of the army could properly file out. Apparently, Griffith himself would be taking to the field as well. He could decimate any force if he shifted to his true side, the evil that lurked behind those blue eyes of his. But in his own words, "Griffith gave the people this city, Griffith will defend this city."
If he did end up revealing his true self, Voldemort could always manipulate the memories of the citizens, but he wouldn't. If the Godhand slipped up they should have the power to fix it themselves, their troubles were not his own.
He had seen the explosions that had decimated a large portion of the farmland outside and his first thought had been that it was Potter. It was a thought he quickly laid to rest as he realized that unless Potter knew how to apparate, he wouldn't have been able to get there in time unless he had a portkey. No. It was unlikely that he was already outside the city.
But with magic, there was always a way to find where someone was. One of the benefits of having so many Death Eaters working for the Ministry was all the information that they were able to bring to him. Rookwood had been in the Department of Mysteries and had been able to give him all sorts of information on the Trace. There were ways around it like Lucius had told his son that magic in an all magic house is nearly untraceable. And for every loophole, there were exceptions as well.
While he could not trace Potter since he did not use a wand, rather, a staff that was from the time of Merlin himself, he would be able to cast a spell that would detect any amount of magic that far exceeded any output.
Voldemort reached out with his wand and freehand both, nonverbally casting the charm he had learned and even incorporated in various ways like taboos during the war. He had specifically ordered his Death Eaters not to perform any magic while he searched, it would only make it harder to locate where Potter was hiding.
Right away, he was able to "see" that there were only two other people in the city who were using magic at this point in time. One seemed foreign to him almost, like the magic of this world, the other was much more familiar. Or perhaps familiar was the wrong word. It was pure magic, what he had desired and longed for in his now immortal life. He knew where Potter would be.
To ripen the mood, Voldemort cast his wand to the sky, his long fingers stretching out like he was using them to touch the ground below. The once clear, sunny sky was being replaced by a rolling cloud, only bleak rays of sun piercing the dark shadow cast overhead. Feeling an electric pulse running, arcing along his spine to the tips of his fingers, Voldemort opened his eyes and caught sight of multiple bolts of green lightning shoot from the cloud and down to the spot where he suspected Potter to be.
The sound of cracking thunder soon followed joined in hand with the crumbling of stone from the buildings in the radius as the blast. The people below were surely in a fright, but what else could they expect from the wizard who abducted their Queen?
Feeling satisfied, Voldemort stared at the area where his attack landed and felt a tug and the feeling of being compressed through a tube, the normal feeling when apparating.
"Ack! Gnhh!" Harry coughed out as he shifted around some rubble. He figured something was up when that cloud rolled in all of a sudden, but he hadn't been expecting to nearly get his head blown off with lightning, no matter what shape his scar was. "You okay, Puck?" he uncovered his hands to see the blue elf.
"Never.. akk! Better." He offered a weak thumbs up, still visibly shaken from the sudden strike.
"Good to hear. If you're feeling up to it, I need you to-," Harry's whole spine tingled with the feeling of someone walking on his grave.
He cupped his hands over Puck and rolled to the side as a jet of deadly green light skimmed past him. Standing amid the rubble was a man who would be considered handsome by most with his wavy dark hair peppered with bits of grey, a defined jaw, and high cheekbones. He had a scar on his forehead, jagged and rough that ruined the image, same with his slit red eyes.
"Well, Harry Potter at last."
A/N: Sorry for the delay, I meant to upload on Easter, but Game of Thrones took priority, I meant to upload on Dyngus Day, but my family wanted to celebrate. The first chapter of the final battle is here. Thank you for reading.