The drakes are upon us within moments, with baleful roars leaving their maws, which on some, is already glowing infernal red.

Bayle's dragon mockeries seeking to hasten Caelid's destruction piece by piece until it resembles its state in that future.

"To arms, to arms!" I pay little heed to the Commander's words to his men, or how both Fort and the minx seem surprised for a moment before starting to reveal their true shape.

The guise of man will be of little use to them in the upcoming fight.

Not untrained as they are in the intricacies of the form.

And…how feeble their human shape is in all honesty.

Grinning wild, with blood singing in my ears, leg muscles tense and I jump.

Roaring.

Hand reaching for one of the sword handles in the middle of my arc.

And then I fall like a comet to the ground once more, but I'm already at the halfway point between the incoming drakes and the soldiers rallying behind. My precious people.

I leap again, and as I soar through the sky, the flapping wings of Lansseax and Fort, mingled with their own offended roars reach me.

At the same time as, a foolish drake, thinking me but meal delivering itself to its gullet.

Turns and stretches its neck, snapping its jaws in my direction, the stench of sulfur from within somewhat disagreeable.

And my grin hurts.

"You are not worthy," I simply say, unsheathing my blade and with a simple swing…carve the drake in two, the air pressure grievously wounding one flying close to it. And as the life is in the process of fading from its bewildered eyes…

I grab the drake's teeth still coming towards me out of sheer inertia, place my feet on the lower wet portion of its maw, relaxing my grip around the cracking teeth and…

Using the dying failure as a springboard, jump towards another drake nearby.

There are plenty of their ilk doting the skies after all.

And as I do, a furious minx bodyslams into two of the drakes, pulping bones, muscles and organs upon her steel-like scales while from her hands spears of red light fly towards the incoming host.

Something Fort seems keen on replicating, if…without Lansseax's desire to emulate the 'wrestlers' of that timeline and future.

My friend content to rain down spears and Dragon fire with alarming speed from afar.

And while I've little doubt we won't manage to completely stem the horse before it crushes into my people.

At least, we can reduce the casualties.

For every life under my banner counts. Or at least should, on principle.

Eyes widening, I open my mouth to shout but know she won't react in time, and so, letting Faith in Gold and Mother bolster my body, I jump again and with blade aloft, crush into a sneaky drake trying to take a bite out of Lansseax's wings.

My sword burying into its head and the resulting weaving, an explosion of Faith stemming from the blade ensure death undeniable.

Although…as a surprised Lansseax gives me a surprised nod and I pull the remains of the ruined weapon free, molten steel dripping from the glowing slug remnants above the handle…

The blade couldn't handle it, it seems.

But, a small price to pay for helping the minx.

A favor she quickly returns, as with an offended roar and opening pale jaws wide, a thin beam snipes another drake whom, as I turn and pull free another blade seemingly sought to crush into me and its falling brethren.

Throw me into the ground below.

A momentary inconvenience at best.

Still, I nod at Lansseax and, in the moment between seconds, kick of the drake corpse, throwing my new blade towards a pair of drakes barreling towards Fortissax and, as my blade slams into the guts of one, making the black fiend howl, a red spear of lightning, courtesy of Lansseax slams into the other.

And as I smash into the soon to be drake corpse, pulling the blade with another protest from the meat.

Feel the rush of Runes enter me with each corpse added to the pile.

My grin is wide enough to hurt. I laugh.

Truly, few things can compare in life!

"Please…buy…something. Anything…" the pitiful whine and the stench of foul, almost rotten meat. Is enough to make Nago startle and pause.

Ignoring the small folk hurrying all around her, and feeling a vein jut on the side of her skull at the sight of some women, who are clearly of her Blood even if not kin, dressed and lounging around the entrances of places of ill-repute…

She takes a deep breath and forcibly calms herself.

The injustices, she would see to them in time.

And the fact that Ilirei has been distant the past few days doesn't help her mood. Not that she blames her Lord. She's the one who told him to not give up, and when her demigod was absorbed in a project, well…

And this time its not just the one, his bid for the Throne by amassing the support of the nobles. Oh no, Nago's latest find, according to his words at least, seems to have been the missing key which helps make things make sense in Ilirei's mind regarding that secret art from the Land of Reeds.

Oh my Lord…

Sighing, she looks down at the groveling, stinking, traveler. She can't help but curdle her nose.

Not out of any distaste for him and his folk.

No matter what rumors floated around the Capital.

The traveler in front of her did not necessary share blame with whatever the rest of his kin may or may not have done.

The Golden Order is not as infallible or Just as it likes to portray itself…

She would know…

Despite the stench, her eyes soften and with a sigh, she manifests a few Runes from within her, giving them to the husk of a man. And even with her gift, she doubts he'll last much longer.

The man seeming so close to death its a miracle he is still alive.

But, if this makes his last few days more comfortable…

"A-ah! T-thank you! I have something if you—"

Holding her palm she shakes her head. "No need," and with a wave and a chorus of non stop 'thank yous' from the husk, resumes her trek towards…towards home.

Before today, she hadn't thought it possible, and yet, Lucia had reached out to her.

No doubt Shandra playing a part but, still, bad blood and a coward for a sister?

It will be nice to be together again, if for a few hours.

They could pretend at least.

As the woman whose soul, to his eyes, screams of turmoil turns around a corner. He slowly stops with his shouted platitudes, and, once he's certain she is far away.

Or suspects at least. Can't very well check as he is now.

Timing is everything after all and that one-eyed no fun prude would spoil his fun if she but caught wind of him!

He allows his lips to do what they've been craving, and undoubtedly, conditioned to do.

He smirks and feels his eyes glow a tad brighter.

Yes~ This one is promising. Unlike the white-haired one. So stiff and…assured that one.

Time to drop a hint to his 'friend' he thinks.

That dour oaf with his foolish ambition will prove useful for something at least.

Slinking back into the alley and out of sight, wet cackles mixed with phlegm leave his throat.

"There is no faster way," Tiche says with a clipped tone towards one of the youngest of their Order.

Great, now even the neophytes and the world itself seem to intent of deriving amusement at her expense.

What with the young girl having the gall to ask if there was a way to fasten the absorption of runes.

The very mystery and task both her own Lord asked, trusted, Tiche to find a solution too.

"But—"

"But nothing," she says, tone stern as she scoffs and crosses her arms. "Our Blood already speeds up the process when compared to the mortals. Seek not unearned strength for that way lies ruin."

The young girl stares up at her with a mulish expression, not realizing she should be thankful its Tiche towering over her and not Alecto.

Sadly, time will teach the young one the errors of her ways.

It had done so with Tiche after all.

"You say that, sister and yet the reason you are so much stronger is because of the Runes!"

"And while that's correct I've spent time."

A lot of time, effort and tears.

"Mastering the basics. Subterfuge and trickery are tools even the Goddess herself has deigned to use after all."

"R-really?!"

"Of course, now back to work you lazybones."

Making her way out of the training room a familiar voice stops her.

"Growing soft, are we?" Alecto's teasing purr, is as always, a dangerous thing to listen. For the veiled amusement could very well result in a shared moment of mirth or, more than like, reveal the hidden threat and sadism within.

Tiche scoffs. "As if I need to behave like our sisters. Needless cruelty is pointless. And besides. We have you for that, don't we, mother?"

Alecto's shoulders shake as a dark giggle leaves her lips.

"Oh~ Learned your lesson and already craving to do the same to another? Very well, I will be the hammer falling upon the little slut's spirit while you serve as her soothing balm…until you turn into my anvil~" the woman says and, Alecto's lips twitch as for a moment, a hint of warmth enters her eyes and she cooes. Caressing Tiche's face. "Oh my daughter, I'm so glad you understand. So glad you learned the lesson~"

And Tiche wants to jerk away.

She doesn't.

Instead she leans her face into the touch for an instant.

"Truly, you are my masterpiece~"

"As you say, mother."

Tiche is not hers!

Lucia manages to contain her giggles.

"And then, do you remember when Shandra here, strode up to you, a-and barely coming up to your knees?" Her s-sister on the other hand… "K-kicked you in the shin? Your armored shin!" seems to be faring quite a bit worse. "Or how she yelped and jumped a-a-ahahaha!"

"I did no such thing!" the old woman sharing a table with them says with a huff. Although her flushed cheeks seem to indicate her words to be lies.

"Hmm, are you perchance confused, Nago?" she asks, tapping a finger on her chin.

And making her sister, blink. "Eh? Lucia?"

"Are you mayhaps confusing things? For I too seem to remember a young girl kicking a sheen, only it wasn't mine own but rather that of Lord Godfrey when he—"

"C-clearly your memory must be failing you sister for I never did such a thing!"

She giggles.

And amidst denials, gentle ribbing and back and forths, Lucia, for the first time in a long while and with the answer to her Lord safely tucked in her heart…

She feels content.

She could get used to this.

"She serenaded, Godwyn. Shandra. You should have seen it, Lucia strode up to him with a couple of bards and—"

"I-it was in my younger days!" she squeaks, her cheeks burning.

But despite it all…

Can't stop the smile.

Yes, this is nice.

The endless slaughter taking place over the last few days, marked by small reprieves, had quickly lost its luster.

There is only so many ways I can kill weaklings after all and make it interesting.

But, if nothing else, with my friends by my side, and the help of the common soldier, things had been easy enough that even managed to experiment with some of my weaving ideas in between kills. When circumstances permitted it.

And even if I haven't made any grand breakthrough?

The small golden wings manifesting for an instant, making me hover, much to the surprise of this wave's last drake below, are useful still, even if they aren't quite true flight yet, or, even 'double jumping'.

They vanish.

I fall.

My sword gleams.

A pitiful whine leaves the maw of the drake as we land on the earth below, its body shattered from the height, my blow, and the magic within it.

Pulling the sword free and inspecting it, I nod.

Cracks can be seen all over, but, the second blade still has some life left in it, thankfully.

Thankfully for as Fort and Minx land beside me, a furious roar echoes from further in the mainland.

"Finally!" I growl. My rumbling whisper so less impressive than Greyoll's roar and yet containing the same promise of violence.

It'd taken a few days but we managed to rebuff the assaults and with the three of us as the speartip, open a path towards the enemy's stronghold.

And indeed.

Above a distant, massive form. The much less impressive forms of Greyoll's own children fluttering around her in a vaguely protective manner, almost like gnats when size is taken into account and about as important all things considered.

The gnats merely being time consuming to dispose off rather than difficult, even if they'd managed to land a gout of flame or scratch my plate here and there.

But Greyoll…

My grin hurts and with a brief instant of focus I roar as my body, my armor shines Gold.

"A worthy hunt."

Tiche growls as she pulls the blade free from the mortal, ending the foolish man and his foolish ambition's life.

Her Lord most loved, his task… she feels not one step closer to its completion and it vexes her most profoundly.

At first, when she'd been tasked with it, her first instinct, or rather, waking thought had been to dismiss it as something foolish. Impossible.

And yet, later, in the silence of her own thoughts under cover of night…

Her own instincts whispered to her.

The instincts which had rarely led her wrong before.

And she knew then that Godwyn spoke truth.

The task to be possible.

And yet.

And yet…

She still had little idea as to how to go about fulfilling it!

Which mattered a great deal! For if she didn't even if her Lord would mind not most likely, she couldn't bear the weight of failure. To have the start of her service marked so!

No!

Unacceptable!

Growling, she pays little heed to the meager flow of Runes entering her, courtesy of the dead fool, her body already storing them with practiced ease and, beginning the slow task of mixing them with her flesh. The flesh which, like the rest of her, so dearly longs to receive her Lord's lifeforce and light within her.

Make it her own—

Tiche freezes in the midst of wiping and re-sheathing her knife, paying close attention to the process her body now undergoes by rote while her brain feels ablaze as her exchange with the neophyte a couple days prior replays in her head and, Tiche also remembers some of the hidden teachings in regards to the abilities of her blood.

Of the Numen.

What some of the texts, and even Alecto rarely, called Mikos.

Apparently a splinter of the greater Numen people proper.

It…it can't be that easy?

For a given value of easy.

The dark mood that'd been following her these last few days starts to lift as the makes her way out of the building.

This might, or might not be the answer which she seeks but, she now has a lead and, owes it to her Lord to try once he returns.