I'm gonna be putting ideas I came up with for the plot in the end note. They probably won't make their way in.
I take stock of our 'last stand' for one last time. There're seven of us, and of the named characters we have Geoffrey, Kieran, Brom, Nephenee, and myself. Unless I don't count as a named character, which you could argue I don't. Anyways, in terms of classes, we've got the Myrmidon-Soldier of Nephenee, the Lance Knight of Brom, Geoffrey the God-Paladin, Kieran the Axe-Cavalier, and myself as some weird dude with a, frankly, absolutely disgustingly broken ability. intelligent systems, ability op pls nerf.
Geoffry, too, had been assessing the situation, from what I can tell, and his expression is certainly grim. "Soldiers. I ask for your names," he says, his voice as melancholy as his expression.
Kieran's expression sharpens; he knows what's going on here. "Sir. I am Kieran." He's uncharacteristically quiet.
The cavalier's seriousness seems to strike a chord with the rest of the platoon, as looks of realization dawn on everybody's faces.
I simply grin and lazily salute. "Conor Kyser, General. A pleasure."
Brom introduces both himself and Nephenee; I guess Nephenee fears embarrassment even now, which is kind of endearing.
One of the nameless men pipes up. He's got a blue cloak and blonde hair. "Name's Caen, and this is my brother Roubaix!" Caen, like me, is cheerfully grinning in the face of death. Wonderful, a kindred spirit. Roubaix, wearing blue... leather armor? nods affirmatively at his brother's words.
Geoffrey nods silently, then thinks for a moment, if his scrunched brow is anything to go by.
Turns out, Caen is a mage and Roubaix is an archer. I guess Caen must've been a scholar or something, before conscription.
Geoffrey quickly begins throwing out orders. Brom, Nephenee, and I are making up the small frontline, with Brom at the center and Nephenee and I on the flanks. Geoffrey had Caen join Kieran on his horse, and Roubaix with Geoffrey, for a mobile ranged force. Or something, I think that's what they're doing. Anyways, the mounted units are supposed to keep pressure off me and Nephenee so the flanks don't fold and get Brom killed.
During this admittedly short planning, Kieran and I both insisted that should we begin to lose, Geoffrey flee and catch up with Elincia, for 'Her highness's safety' and whatnot. I was surprised to find that Geoffrey actually agreed- a side effect of being childhood friends with the princess, I suppose. I'd figured he'd refuse to do so due to honor or some related bullshittery.
We'd only just finished taking formation when the Daein cavalry began their next charge, followed shortly by the infantry charge. I noted that the enemy cavalry had dropped by at least eight since the last charge, and I took a bit of satisfaction in that fact. I think I'll count the yards again.
Twenty yards...
...
Ten yards...
Seven...
Four...
Three...
Two...
CLANG!
Unlike the previous charge, I actually had good footing. I held my ground by a much easier margin by comparison. Here comes the next-
BANG!
I have to take a moment to readjust my stance after that hit, and luckily I finish said adjustment before-
CRACK! (CLANG!)
FUCK! SHIT, I THINK MY HAND JUST BROKE! FUUUUUUHUHUHUCK! Arrrgh... okay, okay, it's fine, I didn't get skewered or anything... all I gotta do is...
Click!
Whew! No more injury. Thank fuck. Oh, hey, Brom is looking at me oddly- oh, can people hear that clicking noise? It is kind of jarring, now that I put some thought into it. The click sounds kind of like a lower-pitched rendition of a lighter being ignited. Oh, and it's much louder. I don't know if the noise follows me or not- I'd have to reveal the ability to really test that- but it is definitely jarring to hear. I'd figured people wouldn't hear it because all the enemy soldiers never paid it any mind.
Kinda weird, really.
Anyways!
Brom and Nephenee are fine, and I see maybe five or so cavaliers lying around with varying injuries. Looks like our own mounted units are doing pretty well.
Regardless, the enemy infantry have pretty much arrived, only a little ways away before combat starts. I feel something rush through me. Determination? Adrenaline? Gah, whatever. I'll fuckin' live through this shit, I'm guaranteeing that.
The first foe that I'm faced with is expecting me to remain defensive, but I'm not stupid enough for that. Or smart enough, really. Whatever. I lunge forward and thrust my sword towards his chest.
He was already stepping back, so I only get a shallow wound, but hey, it's a hit. He goes to slam his shield into my overextended arms, but I lurch back, just barely avoiding it. I suddenly have an idea- this guy's decent, but not great, so...
I swing my weapon in a lazy manner, and he quickly moves to block it. Ha, jokes on you! I sock him in the face, and he clutches at his nose, cursing. That's all the opening I need. I grin, and successfully resist the urge to shout a crit quote because this isn't Awakening-on, it's Tellius.
Fuck, why can't I have a clean kill? I take out a portion of his neck and oh god he's gurgling I hate that so much.
As I stand in disgust at the display, I barely register an enemy cavalier in my peripheral vision. I launch myself out of his charge, the lance barreling right through the space my chest had just occupied. Fuck, that was close.
I'm rebalancing myself when another soldier decided to pick a fight with me- this one's got an axe. I frown, fucking axemen are stupid fucking strong.
Once again, I go for the first strike, but at the last second I slip back. Good call, too, because there's a swung axe where my head would've been. Unfortunately for my good axe-wielding friend, he's overextended himself. I stab my blade into his chest has quickly as I can make myself attack, and luckily, it connects well enou-
Fuck it's stuck. I got the guy, but my sword's stuck. I struggle with it for a few seconds, and I pull it out of the guy's fresh corpse with a cry of triumph.
Well. Um. It seems I've been impaled yet again. Ow. Lots of ow. Many ow. Many, many ow. Click! CLICKCLICKCLIIIIICK!
Click!
Oh, thank whatever-deity-Tellians-worship-because-I-can't-remember.
I click to just after I'd freed my sword, so I'm under the lance that'd impaled me. I take a swing- with my sword- at my adversary's legs, and actually take out his kneecap. I wonder if getting your kneecap sliced by a sword or bashed in by a bat hurts more.
Eh, that'll never be answered, that's for sure.
My opponent yells and falls to the ground, unable to stand because kneecap slicing just occurred.
Glorious.
I'm... starting to get tired. I push myself to my feet- I'd fallen in order to pull off the kneecap slicing- and proceed to mercy kill my impaler.
Fuckin' dickweed.
We're still outnumbered around seven or eight to one. We're fucked, aren't we? We're totally fucked, and my presence didn't change jack shit.
The battle slowly becomes... automatic, I guess. I'm not really thinking anymore, it's all instinct at this point. My arm moves my sword in a swing or a stab and I don't really acknowledge it. My legs move me from danger without a thought. I click without a moment's notice.
Then, all too suddenly, my instinct leaves me. I realize how bad the situation's gotten. Geoffrey and Roubaix are gone, to where I haven't the slightest. I barely see the red cloak of Caen lying nearby. Wait, no, wasn't it blue? Fucking shit, he's dead, isn't he? Shiiiiit. I sort of process that I can't see Kieran or Brom or Nephenee anywhere at all. I've lost. We've lost. Fucking ass shit damn it all. I'm surrounded by maybe fifteen enemy soldiers. No hope here.
But, somebody starts pushing through the soldiers, shouting for them to move out of the way.
A Knight- the class- stand before me, glaring. His armor is Daien black, highlighted by golden adornments. Short, well-kept green hair that flows to the right- his left- of his chiseled face. Guy's actually pretty handsome, I won't lie. Oh, hey, a forest green cape.
"So you're the one these fools can't beat." He looks quite pissed. He's glaring pretty angrily.
"I guess so." I shrug. "I'm just trying to not die, is all."
"You're worth fighting, given how many of my men you've killed. My name is Maijin, captain of this little group that you've cut us down to. Now, give me yours, hm?" He glares, but now there's a bit of excitement and curiosity. Figures.
"The name's Conor. Conor Kyser. This may be my last fight or yours, but either way, I'll definitely give you an exciting one." I raise my sword and shield. I need to focus if I don't want to die.
"Fantastic." Maijin grins widely, pulling out a lance- no, a javelin- from a pouch. "You better live up to that statement."
"Oh, I will." I grin back.
As soon as I end that sentence, he throws his javelin at me, swiftly pulling out a second as he charges me. I raise my shield and the projectile clatters down next to me.
I barely jump to the side as Maijin thrusts his weapon towards my gut. I try to take advantage of the opening, but his shield is already guarding him against harm. He once again attempts to stab me.
Well, 'attempt' is a bad word. He does stab me.
"Pah! You call yourself an exciting battle? Easy! I'm disgusted with you, men!" Maijin is pissed with a side of angry. This guy must love a good fight, damn.
"I'm not finished yet!" I swing my blade towards his neck, as he's dropped his guard in his outrage. Unfortunately...
"Not that easy to catch me off guard, weakling." He hisses, holding my wrist in an iron grip. Fuck, that reall- oh, he's squeezing and I can feel bones breaking.
I shakily grin. "Not that easy to get me in a bad spot."
Click!
And I'm behind him, already lunging forwards for his neck, the only really vulnerable place on his body. Fuckin' knights.
However, he's already moving away by the time I connect my sword. I give him a nice slice, though.
"What in the name of Ashera was that?!" He's seemingly shocked out of his previous rage at my clicking. Serves him right. Then he grins. "Maybe this will be a good fight, after all." He throws his javelin with a burst of speed, which I click away from. I once again try to finish him quickly with a hit to the neck, but he learns fast.
"Not that simple, Kyser. You won't be going anywhere with predictability like that." He sneers at me. I glare back.
"I can fight forever. Can you?" I lazily smile. "I don't even need to worry about dying of wounds or collapsing because of exhaustion. I'm just that good."
"But, what do you have, Maijin? Heavy armor? Limited energy? Now, I wonder how long it'll take before you collapse, hm? What do you think?" My previously lazy grin turns devilish.
"How... DARE YOU?! I'LL DESTROY YOU, INVINCIBLE OR NOT!" Maijin launches forwards that's way too fast for somebody wearing that heavy armor what in the name of the sweet mother of fucking bullshittery is this?!
I leap back- probably too far- as his javelin zooms forwards to where my chest had been only moments before. I leap back again, and a third time. Then...
Click!
I'm right behind him, swinging as soon as I'm there. I catch the gap between his armor around the shoulder, luckily enough, and he yelps with pain.
Then, he outright kicks me in the gut and stabs me in the forearm.
Click!
I'm standing a bit further away than before, injury-free. Damn, he's too good. I can't beat him at this rate, bullshit power or not.
The fight rages on in a back-and-forth like this for a couple minutes. I might get a lucky hit in, I'll click whenever I get injured, you get the idea. Maijin's been getting pretty bloodied throughout the exchange.
Of course, all good things come to an end. He successfully predicts where I'll be next and throws a javelin into my leg. I try to click out, but the click doesn't go far enough... or something. Unsure as to how to word this.
Anyways, Maijin is now holding a javelin- one of his last ones- to my neck. "Surrender." He huffs, exhausted. I wince and drop my weapons.
"You win. Good job." I grin shakily.
He punches me in the face, and everything goes dark. The last thing I see is somebody wearing white running up to Maijin.
Potential ideas:
-Killing Geoffrey. I wasn't sure I would be able to write this one.
-Force-Conscripting Conor? Felt stolen from Spellbinding Radiance, though it was a logical idea since the Daein Army knew of Conor's stand. It's also still up in the air, so if you think it's a good idea, go ahead and say so.
-Kieran, Brom or Nephenee dying in the 'last stand'. Didn't happen, but it was an idea I had.
Thank you to:
si-mania, for following the story.
lucsld, for following the story.
Feels good man.
Notably, this chapter is about a thousand words longer than the previous chapter.