-53-

Darting over the fields littered with orc corpses, a boy could not believe his luck. The very first sword he picked up from a dead orc was one of the few left intact. Identifying it as a broadsword, he took a few test swings, and then glared after a silver being riding at the back of a large orc force.

The boy obviously targeted the great knight, but he did not do just that. His brownish tabard was stained with large blotches of black blood, as did his forehead and his boyish features. His gloved hands gripped the hilt of the broadsword tightly –and literally transported himself right into the fray.

The teenager swordsman looked insubstantial. If a person were standing in front of him, he might be able to see what's behind the translucent swordsman. To many, he was known as Doppelganger.

He vented his fury on the orcs. At least seven to nine orcs fell with a swing of the broadsword, while the rest of the green beasts stared after the impossible-to-be-followed swordsman in bewilderment. A swirl of grey shadows caused the orcs to mistake it for the genuine one. Before they could take a second chance to seek him out, the naked blade of the broadsword sliced across their neck.

"Doppel…" Lord of Death mumbled in surprise.

Doppelganger easily took down the orcs before him. His eyes now a blazing red, his fury augmented when he caught sight of the Lord of Death.

"For myself…"

The broadsword cleaved several more orcs dead. The Prontera defenders shared similar reaction as the orcs, a shock expression plastered hard over their face at the appearance of Doppelganger. The last time he was here, they did not forget how he slew their forces with an effortless swing of his blade. They were glad that the phantom swordsman was helping to even the odds, though he might be turning on them still. The best thing to do now, was to resume their battle without obvious slackening as though Doppelganger was not present.

"For my return…"

Doppelganger bowled into more orcs, kicking and slashing madly at the endless sea of them. Snarling, he drove the blade through two successive orcs. Death took no initiative to rid of the impudent swordsman; he merely looked calmly as the carnage he was causing. A very heavy one, considering a long trail of piled carcasses all the work of one single unit.

"And for the damnation of the Lord of Death!"

Slaying the last line of orcs barring him from Death, Doppelganger launched a case of ice at the knight superior.

"So you're still alive as I presumed…" Death rasped as the ice attack did not affect him at all.

The silver knight reined Silver forward, thrusting his ethereal lance forward in the middle of Doppelganger's chest. The swordsman's blade knocked the lance tip away, but the shaft quickly buried into his side. Doppelganger flew to his right from the force, crashing through a beam. The top shorn off portion of it clipped his forehead. But he merely leaped back to his feet. Nothing was going to stop the assassination of the Lord of Death…

"Of course I am, and this Trait business is over, knight," the swordsman said.

He hurled the two halves of the beam at the silver knight, but he might as well drink every single drop of water in the Byalan Dungeon. Lord of Death brought up his lance and the beams degenerated into dust. Doppelganger dashed and skidded right to a stop when he stood just mere inches away from Silver. He ducked below the steed, driving the broadsword through the armoured underside. Silver neighed madly and ran around in a frenzy. Death could not even calm the powerful warhorse down.

Doppelganger appeared behind Silver and scored a stab through Death's lower back. But the blade did not go deep, for the armour Death wore was too resilient. It caused a mere scratch along the back. Dismounting Silver in a swift move, Death drove the lance towards his foe's ribs, but it only tore the tabard.

"Despicable knight, forfeit!"

Doppelganger tried smashing his sword against the lance as a pretext to his plan. Death withdrew it fast enough as the blade struck the ground hard –and a booted foot slammed against his left arm. Pain coursed through the arm, but Death dismissed it. To the great silver knight, pain did not exist!

Doppelganger made a beeline for the silver steed. Death followed with lance readied, in case the swordsman laid an ambush. Silver was still running around aimlessly as blood spilled from the wound, the large mount even trampling a few orcs. Doppelganger took track of the moment, making quick estimations. When Death neared, he went down to tackle a hoof. Silver lost balance and as expected by Doppelganger to crash onto the knight, the steed went through a lance instead.

"Damn you, lowly swordsman!"

Jerking the lance free, Death drove himself on with the painful death of his steed. The lance managed to catch the swordsman on the shoulder, then the knight followed it up with a shaft to the gut. The force sent Doppelganger reeling backwards many feet, knocking down several orcs. It actually took more than ten sturdy orcs to break the inertia. Killing the orcs around him in the blink of an eye, the swordsman wiped off his blood to continue the confrontation.

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When the army of orc zombies marched into the city, they met no resistance at all. Dead warriors dressed in ninja suit lay dead at their feet, the white ground smeared with trails of red. Many orc warriors stood still along the curb of the walkway, a dazed expression on their bestial face. But the foul zombies paid them no attention and trudged on lifelessly. They were employed by the Lord of Death at the eleventh hour to boost his forces, and their purpose served only to seek out and slay the humans, not appreciating sidewalk orcs.

A thud alerted several orc zombies. They were terribly careless to have overlooked the unusual behaviour of the orc warriors. A roar rang throughout the city and the orc warriors fell onto the ground, and a dozen defenders came at them from behind the dummies unexpectedly. Cerberus flicked his two swords, and a combination of fire and ice bolts pelted down onto the undead army.

"We're still unmatched! Their numbers are too great!" the knight shouted for his alchemist friend while battling off two orc zombies. It was already too late, for he realized the mistake of trusting Piffy's idea. No matter how great an idea now, the orc zombies would overwhelm them eventually. Death was certainly seeking amusement before taking its toll on the pathetic lot of them. A dozen men against an army of about a two hundred orcs? How worse could the joke get.

Cerberus took one last look at those fighting with him, especially Piffy, for he has not the chance to see them again. It was meaningless duelling when it spelled doom sooner or later. Cerberus was about to submit his fate to the dark orcs when a horn blared just outside the south gate. It did not sound anything like the horns of Prontera; it was more of… orcish fashion. The orc zombies were going to be joined by their reinforcements.

The orc warriors that were fighting alongside the zombies halted their undead brethrens. They listened as another note sounded, this time prolonged.

"Orc chief? Chief call for retreat? But we winning!" one orc shouted.

When the orcs started again, the horn blared again.

"Get back! Retreat to orc chief! Trouble outside!" the same orc shouted to the rest.

The orc zombies hesitated at first, some even turning back to the battle. But the life orc warriors hollered them back out, the entire army assembling at the fields. Cerberus and his band continued watching hopelessly as they saw a fully armoured figure, supposedly the chief, waved desperately for the orcs to exit Prontera. The orc army could not see even a tiny fragment of their chief's hide, for the armour pasted with an orc emblem hung loosely from his body. At his side hung an orcish sword, and his hand held an orcish horn.

"Danger from church, get back," a throaty, yet peculiar voice spoke. The orcs had their suspicions, but they would be seeking for themselves a high load of trouble if they had questioned the real chief. They dared not risk some punishment because of verification.

The orc army kept silent as they followed the chief into a woody region. Tall trees and thick scrubs came into view, and the chief seemed to have forgotten about their purpose in marching here.

"Chief, we must go back to attack!" an orc found wits to voice his thoughts.

Expecting a severe lecturing from him, the chief only led them deeper into the woods without so much as making a noise.

"Chief! South gate still near, we go back!" another broke the barrier of silence, questioning his chief without as much fear as before since the first received no harsh lectures. Unfortunately for him, the chief stopped and turned back.

"Quiet! We move!"

When the chief was done with his lectures, he raised the horn to his lips and blew at random. The orcs held a look of befuddlement, for they had never heard such a note before. A few more wanted to question the odd chief again –and the woods sprang into life. Dozens of assassins and rogues flipped out of their hiding spots, more of the agile figures slipping over the orcs without them noticing.

Katars and daggers whipped out, they worked cunningly at the orcs's vital points. The rather large band of saboteurs leaped and dodged nimbly, cutting their blades into vulnerable areas they discovered without much effort. The "chief" shrieked in fits of laughter as she removed the pieces of baggy armour, hurling them onto the ground. Those orcs who saw her gaped in shock as they have been had; their "chief" had been some red haired rogue all these while!

A black-robed figure stepped out calmly. Waving his Staff of Soul across the air, Sagizeulus electrocuted his adversaries when balls of electrical energy surged into the orc zombies. In their death, they made a gurgling noise, before their charred body collapsed with smoke drifting about. The necklace was revealed when it fell out of the robe, the two rings glowing brightly. The crystal ball atop the Staff of Soul gleamed with magical energy.

"Safe your efforts," Sagi said when he saw Manald prepare a spell. "Save it for the main force."

The priestess frowned as she stopped her chants abruptly.

"Set yourself as an example first."

"That… was just a couple of Jupiter Thunders. I can't be wasting too much of my spiritual powers with that," Sagi switched hands as he spoke in a composed manner.

Meanwhile, ASS looked unlikely to lose this battle. They had the fast-diminishing orc zombies surrounded, which facilitated the kill. Back at the south gate, Cerberus calmed himself, which he found it a difficult task. They did not understand this; first of all they were spared unconditionally, and second they saw the orcs leaving for good. They became out of sight ever since they entered a small woods just yards from the south gate.

"What…"

The knight let his sword clatter onto the ground as he stood up. An acute pain shot through his torso when he did. He let out a stifled cry, realizing that he had sustained a deep wound along his left rib that ended near his stomach. He was surprised that he did not feel any pain during the battle. The sudden pain forced him back down, and he began grunting in agony. Blood poured without stopping, and his heavy full plate was making breathing difficult. He fumbled for the straps, stripping the armour off him. He then felt a dead weight lifted off him.

"How ya feelin', lad?" Piffy sat beside him. The Fiendbanes alive too suffered no little injuries, but they gave Cerberus a salute as they knelt on one knee.

"No… no," the knight croaked. "I don't deserve that… no… I failed."

Obliging the knight's wishes, they supported each other as they sought medical help from priests.

The woods was left in a mess of torn plantations and blackish blood. The ASS, or rather Association of Sneaky Slayers, nodded their head in grim satisfaction as they surveyed their work. The orc zombies had been totally wiped out, and Maraulea leaped about with much enthusiasm, screaming "good training after rounds of beer!" When she was quieted, the rogue inspected for spoils among the pungent corpses. A hand grabbed her shoulders.

"So? Was it fun playing alongside with your former association?" It was Invus.

She yelped with excitement, and dragged the ASS "chairman" off to a corner to have a chat.

Now that she was back in Prontera, Manald did not forget about her intended visit to the church. Excusing herself, the priestess ran the rest of the way back to the south gate, leaving the celebrations and cheers behind her.

The first thing, or rather the first person she found was a bleeding knight half lying beside his stripped off armour. An alchemist kneeling beside the knight looked up when she neared, and both gave the same reaction. The two uttered each other's name at the same time. She was glad to see her guild mates again since the long parting, yet the mood of war forbid any further reunion celebration.

"Cerberus! Your side…" Manald exclaimed when her eyes swept over the wound.

"Hurry! Heal him!" said Piffy. "Doubt he can hold on much longer."

The priestess did not have to be told. She was already kneeling by the knight's side, muttering words to a healing spell. A greenish wave encompassed Cerberus, the wound slowly closing up. Piffy watched in awe, though he had seen it many a time.

"Still as good as always, huh."

The priestess managed a smile, and tended to the wound.

"Stay here, and unless you want it re-opened, don't get involved in the battle."

"Whatever you say," Cerberus responded with more vigor.

"I must be heading to the priests and the church. Later."

Gathering up her dress, Manald ran down the walkway, and to the square. The defenders, who were initially losing grounds to the orcs, suddenly pushed forward till they were no longer lined past the fountain. A superior had aided them tremendously by interfering in the battle, slaying a mass of orcs to even the odds. Encouraged by this, they fought with renewed hope. Even the Lord of Death was bothered with the untimely disturbance, and the Prontera forces did take note of the fact that the silver knight would wipe them out with a snap of his fingers albeit the counterattack. They had to kill off the orcs before the Lord of Death was done with Doppelganger.

Manald put off her participation in the battle seeing that they were doing just fine. Right now, the church was all that mattered. And somewhere in her mind though, she wondered the whereabouts of the assassin, Skull. He had stubbornly ventured off on his own, breaking off from them when they opened a portal to Morroc. Many dangers awaited him in the wilderness, the high officials under King Tristan III posing as the main threat.

The priestess stopped in the middle of the square, muttering a blessing for the troops. When she was done, Manald continued northwards to the church. Nothing amiss was seen or heard so far, except for distant raging of the battle. She turned to a path that led her to the right, where the church stood. She breathed a sigh of relieve at the sight of the undamaged church. However, she has yet to discover those caused the by rocks. Stones that broke off from the church structure littered the grounds outside.

She walked into the church. Dark clouds had gathered thickly outside, a drizzle coming down without so much a noise. The sour smell of rain was carried in the whistling wind that started blowing wildly. The church was lit dimly with small torches, and down the aisle sat a monk with his attire much more bloody than Cerberus. At the front bench sat King Tristan III himself, and four of his personal guards sat at a few rows behind him.

Manald walked quietly along the red carpet, seeing no acolytes or priests around. It was not surprising, since most of them were assigned to the battle. She could not resist her doubts any longer.

"What happened?"

Her voice rang out over the church, causing looks of alarm from the guards. The king slowly turned to see a priestess standing near the entrance. Nobody spoke, and the monk still sat against a bench without interest. The silence in the church spoke of trouble, as far as she could sense.

"Is the church going to be attacked?" she asked. Again, no answer came. The guards had turned away from her. Initially she did not recognize the monk, for he had his back turned to her all the while. But after he stood up and faced her, a gasp escaped her throat.

"Tien…" she muttered.

The brown tunic which looked more like an unbuttoned jacket flew open each time a wind blew. The well muscled monk strode towards her, each step making her want to take a step back. His clenching fists and his scarred cheek could make someone think twice about provoking him. Manald prepared a holy light spell, expecting the monk to take her out. Fortunately for her, Tien stopped a few feet away from her.

"You fear me…"

"What are you waiting for? Just take on me if that's what you wish!" Manald cried, once again drawing gazes from the king and his guards.

Tien walked closer to her.

"Make no mistake about it, priestess, we have something much, much important to fight. If I wanted, I would deal with you after this battle. Take out our common foe, that's first."

The words to a spell died on her lips. She was pleasantly surprised to hear such words from Tien, the unfeeling leader of the Overlords. But right now, she guessed that the guild business in Prontera would be called off on a large scale, as the king said.

"Right… we shall fight the common foe. But can you at least tell me about the condition…"

"Orcs had been throwing rocks at the church from outside. Obviously their purpose was to rid of the sacred powers protecting the city," Tien explained, looking at her with those eyes that would make someone extract his gaze. An intense expression was adhered to Manald when the monk mentioned about the attempt to damage the church. "But now it had stopped. I'm thinking Pay and Elemire got themselves a bunch of men to stop the catapults."

"Pay? He's here?"

"He came with me."

"What happened to the rest of your guild?"

"Dead…" Tien spoke in a flat tone.

Although there was no need to be polite or kind to this man, she felt sorry for him. She wanted to ask more, but decided that she would do it when the monk felt better. The death of his guild had gave him a blow.

"I'm sorry –"

"No."

Tien strode past her and walked out of the church. A grunt suddenly came, then Tien's body flew backwards, landing on his back roughly. A trail of blood trickled down his lips.

"What happened!?" the priestess screamed.

The four guards immediately ran over to flank the king. King Tristan III stood up in time to see a large black figure step in. Outside the church, something smashed against the church loudly. Cracks began to form on the walls, while stones chipped off. The black figure advanced, walking past Manald. He held a extraordinarily long black sword, and loud thuds sounded with each footstep. He glanced down at the monk.

"The end is near…"

"Abyss Knight," Tien uttered painfully. "What do you want!?"

"It is obvious, isn't it?" the ebony knight said as he raised his sword over the monk's body.

"Help him! What are you waiting for?" King Tristan III gestured to the monk.

The four guards sworn to protect the king, but leaving him to save a monk made them uneasy. But a severe glare spurred them into action. The four guards, with swords out, charged for the black knight. The loud thuds against the church continued ceaselessly, and more stones flew. They knew the church was under attack.

"Do you seriously think your legion of ten-zeny brained bulls could tear down the church just like that?" Tien shouted defiantly to the Abyss Knight. In fact, he was trying to buy time for the priestess. The priestess murmuring sophisticated words to a devastating spell…

The four guards leaped onto the knight, only to be thrown far back by a dark wave. Muttering "fools" under his breath, Abyss turned to see Manald chanting furiously. Tien knew the priestess had no time to complete the spell now. In one move, she would die. Abyss strode purposefully towards her, as though he knew the exact time that was going to be taken for the completion of the spell.

The four guards stood up again. Abyss waited till the four was within range, then he suddenly spun to deliver a devastating slash that left two of the four dead. The fear-stricken priestess began to falter in her chants, but she saw the promising look from Tien. The monk knew he was definitely in no condition to fight the knight. Being a superior Abyss was, Tien guessed that he did not stand one chance even if he was in the best shape.

A quick estimation told Abyss that a Magnus Exorcimus was going to be cast very soon. He took out the other two easily, and made a charge for the priestess. The pounding on the church intensified, as did the chants. A blue sphere smacked Abyss in the back of his head, stopping his charge briefly.

"This church will perish! I will rule!" Abyss roared.

Tien summoned another spirit sphere, hurling it at the black knight. Abyss stumbled.

"I shall rid of all you pests when I'm done with her!"

Abyss ignored the spheres thrown at him. Resuming the charge, Abyss's extended sword was only a few feet away from Manald. Only a few more syllabuses to go…

The tip of the black sword barely touched the priestess –and a white explosion blasted Abyss far back. The black knight crashed through several benches, a loud roar of agony resounding throughout the holy structure. The Magnus Exorcimus demanded too much from the priestess. She fell onto some broken stones, scraping her skin at several places. Her face was drenched in sweat, and her damp dress clung onto her uncomfortably. She heard more shouts, but oblivion stole over her. Everything seemed to black out.

The explosion had vibrated the entire church. Even the poundings stopped outside. King Tristan III, well aware that his life would be jeopardized if he did not make himself scarce, retreated into an unused chamber in the midst of the confusion. He could not escape straight through the entrance either, for the minotaurs would pulverize him with their hammers as soon as he made the exit.

Tien struggled to stand up. He saw the priestess lying against a bench with half her conscious gone from the spell even in the smoke. The holy blast had left several properties shattered, and a mist formed.

"Priestess!"

Tien scooped the priestess up and made a run for one of the chambers to hide her. The Abyss Knight had long recovered, unfortunately, the superior sneering to himself when he saw the persistent monk. He crossed the pile of broken wood benches, stalking the monk as he carried the priestess off the main hall. Abyss pointed a finger at him, and an invisible force flung Tien into a wall. Dust bits rained off the walls as the monk lost his grip on Manald, and he tumbled.

Abyss laughed briefly. Leaning down, he grabbed a fistful of Tien's jacket, and pulled him to a standing position.

"Tien… I give you an alternative. Personally, I think it is just damn good sounding."

Tien looked at the knight through the slits of his eyes. He did not put up any form of resistance, and he waited for the knight to continue the explanation of the "alternative".

"You fight well, monk. I shall spare you, but you will fight for me," Abyss offered. He did not wait for the monk to give the yes. Pointing the tip of his black sword at Tien's forehead, Abyss sent a flow of dark energy into him. Tien's eyes opened wide, then his body twitched spasmodically. He screamed until the flow ceased. Tien thought he was dead since he felt no pain. Surprisingly, he was full of vitality again. He was back in his best shape.

Tien's orbs now glinted with a purplish glow, his frame surrounded by red electricity. There was something different about his critical state. His skin would normally turn scarlet, but this time it was… greenish. The Kaiser Knuckles and his fists swelled with power as always. The monk now looked at Abyss in a different light. Something made him kneel before Abyss, making his head bend low. And something made him pledge his servitude to the ebony knight.