Chapter 9: Scorched Heavens
Summary of current events:
After so many years of wandering, searching, and fighting, the Ghosts, who had been joined by Galatea, Miata and Clarice, discovered that the Army of the nation, which had been waging war against the mysterious Dragon Tribes, was responsible for the creation of the Organization, as well as the experimentation of Awakened Beings being conducted on the Continent. As the bloodshed continued, the supreme commander of the Army, Grand General Lord Carmelo, was revealed to have orchestrated everything on the continent since the beginnings of the Organization. Now, the final battlelines had been drawn. After receiving news of not just the Western Gate Marshal's defeat at the hands of the Ghosts, but of Raphaela's as well, he formed a vast force of seven armies to personally initiate the Awakening of the Ghosts, and consolidate his vision of victory against the Dragon Kin. Leading these seven armies were his Pacifying Generals: the Eastern, Northern and Southern Gate Marshals Antonius, David and Frederick, the Organization's Black Twins, Alicia and Beth, and the Abyssal One Isley and his consort Priscilla.
The curtain was about to fall on the bloodiest battle in the history of the Continent: the Battle of Darene Plains…
*
Afternoon. Outside the city of Darene
"What's up, Miria?" asked Helen, as the Ghosts gathered around their de facto leader. They had made their way out of the partially rebuilt city gates, "Are we leaving Darene?"
Miria nodded, looking towards the distant clouds of dust that could only be stirred by the thundering hooves of warhoses. "Yes. I suspect… we are very close to facing the mastermind behind the Organization and everything that has happened up to now."
"How so?" asked Helen, puzzled. "Oh yes," she looked at Galatea, "what in the world happened to the woman who was fighting you and Dante two nights ago?"
"I had… a talk with my prospective assassin early this morning," said Galatea, feeling the grip of Cynthia's hand on her arm tightening. "I'm not sure if I managed to convince her, but she's left Darene now. I've directed her to a more… suitable person for the answers she seeks."
Miria looked out towards the plains. "We must keep the city safe," she murmured. "There will be no more incidents like the Siege. We'll move out towards the prairie. We'll block their way before they even come close to the gates. And we'll defeat them there, on the plains of Darene."
Deneve nodded. "Sounds like a plan."
"It looks like they're not holding back anything this time," observed Clare, as the clouds grew even larger. "I don't know how long we can hold against these enemies."
"We shouldn't think about that just yet," snapped Helen. "Come on!" she said, gesturing to Clarice, Miata, and Yuma. "We've got a battle to win."
With a nod, the Ghosts began to move out, advancing to the plains beyond the city. There, no innocents would be harmed. There, the Continent's fate would be settled.
A cloud hung over them as they strode to their last battle together…
*
The flags of the Army were billowing powerfully as the wind blew against the expeditionary force.
Amidst his warhorse and surrounded by thousands of marching men and heavy cavalry, Marshal Frederick raised his arm. "We will defeat the former Number Six and put an end to the war against the Dragon Kin!" he declared. "This will be the final battle. Be prepared!" He gestured outwards with his sword, and the Knights began to spread, riding out towards the ten tiny pinpricks of black. His eyes narrowed. "We will crush these annoying insects under our greaves once and for all." His voice rose as the Knights broke away from his battalion completely, charging towards the nearing Ghosts. The divisions of the Army spanned across the entire horizon, its soldiers flooding the sandy plains. "Forward! Leave nothing of Darene and her guardians standing!"
The seven armies roared their obedience.
This day, the Ghosts would kneel before His Eminence, the Grand General!
*
The Army's initiating of hostilities was quite obvious from a distance. As the multitude of Knights charged, Miria's pace quickened. She beckoned for the women behind to follow her. "Do not worry about the Knights, or the infantry. Punch through their formations and attack the commanders directly," she said calmly. Her eyes flashed. "I will adopt the strategy Rigardo used against us during the Northern Campaign. Right now there are…" she closed her eyes. "Four, five… seven powerful auras. We'll defeat those seven warriors, and then this will be all over."
"But what about the other soldiers?" asked Clarice. "We barely survived against five hundred, let alone these many thousands. The Army won't just – "
"Leave that to my friends," interrupted Clare quietly. "Miria's foresight is formidable. Knowing it was only a matter of time before the Army attacked Darene again, we arranged for someone to help us gain some semblance of a fair fight."
"Friends?" said Clarice. "Who?"
Galatea suddenly broke into an exasperated grin even as the Knights became completely visible, closing several yards with every gallop their warhorses strode. "No, it cannot be."
From the west, another massive cloud of dust was approaching. Suddenly, as the massive army of Knights aimed their lances at the sprinting Ghosts, the right flank of the Army was torn apart. Horses and men were hurled into the air as a cavalry attack pierced through the charging body of Knights. From the safety of the formation's rear, Frederick balked at this unexpected counterattack. "What?!"
A boyish cry of glee sounded above the pandemonium. "Hurrah!" yelled the young man called Cid, urging his horse on and thrusting two knives into the head of a struggling Knight. Behind him, Galk led the charge, his lance smashing through another group of completely unprepared Knights. Followed by several hundred horsemen, they cleaved a path through the side of the dispirited cavalry. "Damned mainland soldiers, attacking their own people!" roared Galk, drawing his sword and cutting down a soldier who tried to attack his horse's legs. "Let's see if you're so high and mighty when you're dealing with the elite guard of Rabona!"
"Keep these bastards occupied," said Cid, as he commanded the horsemen to spread out and hold back the Army's initial wave. "Give the ladies enough time to penetrate the secondary lines of defence." They charged, disrupting the movement of the Army's attack and temporarily halting their advance towards the city.
It was a heartening sight. "Yeah!" cried Helen, as the distance slowly closed between the Ghosts and the Knights, this time to the Ghosts' advantage. "Now that's a real rough- up!" She glanced at Clare. "Miria's strategy's freakin' miraculous!"
"Now's our chance!" urged Miria. "The odds have evened out, if only a little. Go!" Miata, Galatea and Helen sprinted towards the floundering horde of Knights and somersaulted high into the air, their momentum propelling them past the jabbing polearms, halberds and spears. Clare and Miria landed and began to tear their own way through the roaring throng of soldiers. "Thank you for coming when you did!" cried Miria, as she decapitated a pikeman about to strike Galk's horse.
"On behalf of Father Vincent and the heroines of Rabona, we've come to defend Darene from the true enemies of the nation!" affirmed Galk, breaking into another charge against a division of Knights that had separated from the commanding unit. "Leave this to us, Miria!" The allied horsemen rode past her, hurling themselves at the soldiers of the Southern Gate. "Do what you have to do!"
Miria closed her eyes. "I won't let you down." As she opened them, yellow irisies viewed the raging battle in clarity. She charged, knocking down a dozen Knights in one dash. In one fell swoop, she smashed aside an entire row of pikemen who dared to block her way. She leaped up and aimed her sword straight at a blond-haired man who remained at the centre of a throng of elite bodyguards. She roared her fury. "You're not going to get away with this, you monster!"
The man looked up, and his large eyes shone with pleasure. "Hello there, leader of the Northern Campaign," smiled Isley. "Let us enjoy ourselves today."
*
As bedlam reigned around them, Helen, Deneve, Tabitha and Yuma stood in front of a pile of Army corpses, facing the three Marshals of the Gates: Frederick, Antonius and David. "So, you've come this far. In honour of that, we shall destroy you by our own hands!" declared David, raising his bastard sword. David drew his longsword, and Antonius steadied his polearm.
Deneve licked her lips. "Let's go." She lunged, attacking the Marshal with the polearm. Antonius riposted with surprising speed, digging the end of his staff weapon into Deneve's stomach. Deneve staggered back, and Helen moved forward, swinging brutally against him. Antonius parried and David leaped over him, slashing at Helen. They exchanged a flurry of blades, with David gaining a slight advantage. Deneve intercepted Antonius, but he was prepared and flung her back, his greater strength offsetting her balance. His eyes flashed, and he began to advance.
Tabitha and Yuma had engaged Frederick with difficulty. But Frederick was stronger, more experienced and faster than his opponents. In one stroke, he cut across Tabitha despite her anticipation of his move, and as Yuma moved to help Tabitha, he raised his bastard sword and slashed at her legs. She screamed as she fell to the ground, unable to move. Frederick shouted in triumph and moved to assist Antonius. Antonius had pushed Deneve back, his polerarm overcoming her sword. "Now you persih!" cried Antonius. "Begone!" In a surprise move, he released his weapon, hurling it directly at Helen's body. Having just regained her footing, she could not raise her weapon in time –
Helen dashed in front of Deneve and blocked Antonius' finishing blow, bashing the projectile aside. The polearm clattered to the ground. Immediately, Antonius made a dive for his weapon. But as he did, Helen's eyes turned yellow. "DIE!" she roared, her arm suddenly elongating and shooting at Antonius. Caught mid-air, the Eastern Gate Marshal's body was skewered by Helen's sword, blood spurting from his armour. He gurgled in shock and tumbled along the ground. Helen retracted her arm triumphantly, but she had done so too early. Frederick's bastard sword emerged from her chest, and she gasped in shock. Frederick emerged behind her, his soulless eyes alight in victory. With one savage twist, he wrenched his sword out from Helen's body.
"Impressive. But this is as far as you go," sneered Frederick.
"HELEN!" screamed Deneve, as her lifelong comrade crumpled to the ground. In fury, she somersaulted over Frederick, and in one enraged slash, decapitated him. The Marshal's eyes, wide and disbelieving, remained open as his head hit the throng of Knights behind him. Roars of despair and fear resounded as the soldiers panicked at the death of one of their commanders. David quickly blocked Deneve's way, raising his longsword.
"In the chaos of battle, there is no time to grieve, young lady," he said, lunging. Blinking back tears, Deneve pushed him back. He attempted another riposte, but she anticipated his counterattack and swung upwards, denting his armour with her pommel. He leaped back and steadied his sword, before lunging and attempting a full-powered thrust against her. Deneve calmly stood her ground, and as the longsword shot towards her head, she ducked, diving and tackling him to the ground. Before he could scramble up, she had straddled him, raised her sword, and plunged it into his chest.
The moment stretched itself out. After several moments of disbelieving silence, the dying Marshal spoke. "How could this be… to lose to silver-eyed witches like you…" he groaned. He let out one last sigh, and moved no more.
The Three Marshals were defeated. But Helen was on the brink of death as well, and Tabitha and Yuma remained silent. Were they dead as well…?
All around her, her comrades were falling. How could it have turned out this way?
"No," whispered Deneve, staggering towards Helen. "No…!"
She could say no more, as a spear from behind impaled her through the chest.
It took a long time to fall.
*
Galatea and Cynthia had detached themselves from the rest of their comrades, but for now, it was impossible to reunite with them in the chaos of the current struggle. Amidst thousands of soldiers, they fought determinedly to survive, and to carry out Miria's last order. Together, they fought.
Side-by-side, they held back the Knights from following their leader's trail.
And as one, they faced, amidst the dying Knights and Rabona riders, two young women who blocked their way. Clad in complete black, Alicia and Beth stared at Galatea and Cynthia, their eyes emotionless. Galatea's white eyes widened. "It… it's you…"
The Number One and Two of the Organization, in the flesh.
Alicia took a small step forward.
Galatea did the same. "…I've always wanted to speak with you," she declared, her voice surprisingly quiet for someone amongst hundreds of roaring soldiers. "Ever since I saw you fighting for the first time, I have wanted to convince you to flee the Organization. Perhaps even by my side."
Alicia remained silent.
"We are not trying to destroy you," said Galatea. "We are here to defeat the people who we all once called our contractors, our masters. Please understand this. If you do, then step aside. We can settle any quarrel you have with us later. For now, the fate of this Continent and its people are at stake."
Beth closed her eyes.
"Galatea, watch out!" screamed Cynthia suddenly.
Galatea backed away as Alicia began to grow. An agonizing crunching sound, and Alicia's transformation was complete. Suddenly, her bladed appendages struck out at Galatea with blinding speed. Galatea grunted in pain as the overpowering force hurled her back, smashing into a unit of pikemen, who crumpled under the sheer weight of Alicia's attack. "No!" she cried, scrambling back up. But it was too late. The soul-link was complete. Beth was completely in control of Alicia's psychic domain, while Alicia could unleash her Awakened powers with impunity. "Cynthia!" roared Galatea, as she rolled away from the scythe-like hand of Alicia. "Quickly! You must get behind Alicia and strike at Beth! Do not kill her!" Cynthia nodded and moved to comply, but was stopped by Alicia's other hand. The Awakened warrior was only a little taller than the other two, but her strength was tenfold. "Cynthia, hurry!"
It was a craven, almost cowardly strategy. But it was the only way to save the Twins from the clutches of the Organization.
The former Number Fourteen calmly somersaulted forwards and dodged another angry slash from Alicia. She rolled behind her and dashed straight for Beth. Alicia turned, and with lightning fast speed, pursued Cynthia. But Galatea blocked her bladed hand with her sword. "You don't have to do this. This is what he Organization wants. But is what they're doing really going to save this land?" Alicia shifted and charged, smashing Galatea aside. She ignored the pain, grabbing hold of Alicia's arm so that she could buy Cynthia time.
Heart pounding, Cynthia had managed to avoid Alicia's lethal attacks. At last, several yards away, near the battling horsemen of Rabona and Army Knights, stood Beth, her eyes closed, her full concentration focused on restraining Alicia. She was still completely unaware of Cynthia, who had managed step around.
Cynthia raised her sword behind the defenceless Beth.
"Forgive me," she whispered remorsefully. She brought her Claymore down onto Beth's shoulder. Beth's eyes suddenly opened, and she screamed in pain, dropping to the ground. The wound Cynthia had inflicted on her upper body was comparatively light, but was painful enough to hurl her concentration away. With her mind unable to maintain the soul-link, Alicia began to transform back. She shrieked in panic and fright as her body lost control, and her mind lost its vestiges of humanity.
It was not too late.
Galatea leaped upwards, aimed her sword, and plunged the entire length of her Claymore into the struggling Alicia's brains. Her blade cracked the tough shell of her Awakened head, piercing through its protective casing and burying itself deep into her throbbing, pink, neural flesh. Blood spurted from her skull as Galatea despairingly thrust deeper. Would this pain ever end?
There had not been enough time for Alicia to recover from the sudden, lethal attack. Tottering, the young girl toppled to the ground even as Galatea leaped away, bloody sword in hand. A loud, horrible slam. She groaned, whimpering in pain. Her eyes clouded over, and her body reverted back into its human form. Beyond the demonic black armour she wore, it looked as if she had been truly murdered, her life cruelly cut short by conditions beyond a small girl's control.
But it was too late. There was no other way. The Organization's Number One, Alicia, was now dead, dead even before she had truly lived.
Gritting her teeth, Cynthia resisted the urge to cry, turning around and slashing aside another pikeman's weapon as the uncaring battle continued to rage around them.
Galatea rushed over to Beth, who was lying on her back, breathing heavily and fearfully. She took the wounded child in her arms. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" gritted Galatea, closing her eyes as her body shaking with anguish and woe. She held Beth closer, her lip trembling. "You will not die here. I swear to God himself. I will protect you."
Beth blinked softly, her eyes clearing.
Galatea felt herself fall deeper into an abyss of desolation. What have I done…?
"Can you speak?" whispered Galatea tearfully, ripping cloth from her own garments and pressing it gently against Beth's wound, stemming the loss of blood slightly. "Please, say something. Anything."
For a moment, the younger woman remained silent.
"Where… where is my sister…?" she finally murmured.
Galatea's head slumped, her nose pressing softly against Beth's tear-stained cheek. "I'm… so sorry, my child… I… I… had no choice… but to end her life. in order to free you ever so slightly from the prison the Organization had forced you in."
Beth's face fell, and for the first time since she was captured by the Organization, she began to weep, tears flowing freely down her bloody countenance.
Galatea let out a soft cry of helpless mourning.
How dare they… how dare they do this to you…? How dare… we do this to you? You… you are… only children…
*
Across the battlefield form where Alicia had fallen, Miria's sword slammed against Isley's arm. A trickle of blood flowed from his slim limb. "Impressive," declared Isley, bidding his bodyguards to scatter. "I will make sure you attain your full potential by Awakening you. You deserve my full power, do you not? I will fulfil my end of the bargain, so that this Continent will be mine." His Yoki surged, and his body began to grow. Miria eyed him calmly as his centaur body moved with supernatural grace, trampling over several dozen soldiers with one casual step. He aimed his organic bow at Miria. "For your own sake, you should hurry and Awaken," he said quietly.
Miria's eyes remained steady. "Miata. Clarice. Attack."
He released his taut bow, and several divisions of men were hurled into the air, sand blasting upwards in geyser-like motions. The men around Isley panicked and began to flee, as the gargantuan Awakened Being advanced, giant arrows the size of warhorses leaving small craters in the sundered plains. Miata and Miria leaped away gracefully, and Miata managed to grab hold of Isley's arm and swung upwards, thrusting her sword at his face. The centaur being flung her off and raised his hooves, trying to trample her into the ground. But Miata somersaulted away. Isley calmly reformed his hands into a giant lance and shield. "Be glad I have been ordered to hold back my full strength," he said quietly, thrusting his lance at Miria. Her New Mirage managed to dodge his lightning-fast attack, but it did not stop him from bashing his shield into her. She felt her right arm and leg break. "Now, lie there and fall into despair. Fall into despair and Awaken!" called Isley, as Miata leaped up and cleaved into Isley's arm, but Isley merely flung her off. Clarice lunged, her eyes wide. She swung, attempting to sever one of Isley's thick legs. The centaur looked down and aimed his lance. Clarice glanced up and rolled away as the organic weapon dug into the sand with the force of a thousand men.
Miria struggled up, gritting her teeth. Not even Miata had managed to seriously wound him, but neither was he aiming to kill them either. This is going nowhere.
"What a pity… it seems that without killing intent, it really is impossible to subdue you so-called Ghosts… how fitting," chuckled Isley. "Well, that's not a problem with me, but I wonder how well Priscilla can obey His Eminence's orders."
What? "Priscilla?!" whispered Miria.
Isley leisurely raised his hooves, trampling another several Knights underneath him. "You'll find out very soon... just how much of a pinch you have gotten yourselves into."
Miria stared at Isley for several moments, and then her eyes widened in horrified understanding. "Could she… be fighting Clare?"
My God. No.