Chapter 117: Battle of Eagle and Lion (III)
It was an array of all manner of colours, spluttering forth and crashing into the troops, the shouts of fallen men and roars of attacking knights drowned out all other noises.
By this point, it would be described as a chaotic mess in the most generous of terms.
And through it all, Edelgard was still moving forwards, determined to push through and break out of the encirclement. If they could rout the attackers, they could find some way of defending themselves. Yet the larger eruption earlier, the flash of light and the thunderous crash with force enough to nearly sweep her off her feet.
It was concerning.
And it had decimated an entire section of the forest, trees had fallen low and a hefty crater remained in the soil.
Edelgard fought forwards, shuddering as an arrow struck her shoulder and bounced over the top of her armour. Her eyes whirled to the source and narrowed as she immediately spotted the archer in question. They met her gaze and shot back a cocky smile, the very same she would have expected from Claude by this point.
She turned and sprinted towards him, sweeping her axe up in front of her face and hearing the sharp crack of the next arrow bouncing off the flat of her weapon. She pulled it down and swung, first into the knee of one man and then across into the chest of another. Weaving between the two of them, back and forth, she knocked them down and delivered a swift and bodying kick to someone who had been fool enough to run right at her from the front.
If nothing else, the Deers had become reckless with the success they were currently experiencing.
Edelgard carried herself forwards in another run, crossing the distance between herself and Claude in several long strikes, swinging down and sweeping the axe through nothing but air. Her eyes narrowed as she watched him roll to the side, finding a small gap between the men and throwing himself into it and moving just out of her range.
She would have given chase had she not spotted a much larger individual stepping through the ground and throwing a rather large fist towards her.
Briefly she was met with the vision of the same large fist cloaked in shadow, a shudder travelled up her spine at the image which overlapped with this one. A howling roar which sounded inhuman and a blur faster than any demonic beast. Yet the image faded away and she saw nothing but a human.
Just a regular person.
Even if he was rather more well built than the average peer.
Nonetheless, she was swift enough and had enough warning to step backwards and move out of range. The gauntlet of treated wood passed inches from her and swung through nothing more than the air. The tall blonde - Raphael - moved to correct his miss and swung the arm back around.
She ducked beneath that one and stepped around once more, reversing her axe and swinging for his leg.
Her attack thudded against his second gauntlet, having lowered down to act as a shield and catching the attack just before it reached him. But she was swifter still, twisting the axe in her grip and pulling upwards, very nearly catching him in the chin with the uppercut, had he not leaned away at the last moment.
A blur shot through the ranks, carrying with it another man who was thrown into the ground between the two of them. Edelgard had little chance to react before Caspar - yelling like some manner of berserker - went charging right into Raphael and in an impressive display of strength, tackled the boy with enough power to lift him off the ground and carry him into a row of those behind him.
It was a startling feature, but she barely paid heed to it, what she instead focused on was the effect of Caspar's rampage.
It had torn open a line in the Golden Deer's front and she was eager for her own to exploit it, with a wave of the axe above her head as the signal, the mages and swordsmen poured through the gap and split the front line clean in half. Or so she hoped, but she was still searching for where Claude had managed to hide himself.
Her eyes narrowed as she threw herself into combat once more, trading blows easily with the knights and searching for the Golden Deer amongst the faces. He would likely have found somewhere to hide himself away, but she had not yet spotted where the others might have been and she still hadn't-
Something tickled the back of her neck.
She turned and swung on instinct.
It was the right move, a shudder travelled up her arms as the crack of metal filled her ears, watching the axe of Hilda get parried off course from her back and into the space beside her. The pink haired girl having reappeared and seemingly eager to finish their earlier contest. Edelgard was not going to disappoint her.
This time, there would be no escape for the axe wielder.
More crashes as they hammered into the other, trading blows with increasing ferocity and managing to form a gap in the space around them, none wanting to risk getting close and being hit with a stray swing from the pair of them. It was fine by her, she could do without the distractions.
A weakness.
Hilda swung down, Edelgard turned and reversed her axe, catching Hilda's blow in the groove of her own weapon just under the head. The crook looped around as she twisted and jerked forwards, pulling up. Hilda stumbled as the axe was wrenched right out of her fingers and flung to parts unseen.
There was only a brief flash of surprise, then an unsettling realisation.
Edelgard turned herself and brought up a leg to kick the girl.
Hilda caught her at the ankle.
She blinked.
Then she found herself being thrown off balance, sweeping up through the air and landing flat on her back with a grunt, a weight slammed into her chest and she let out a gasp, pink filled her vision as the situation slammed into her.
As did Hilda's fist.
The girl was straddling her, pulling back her other hand for a clumsy blow.
The first had dazed her, she could feel the pain spreading across her cheek. Her vision was blurred and her neck was sore from the jerked movement, but she still had sense enough in her mind. She turned on instinct and felt the impact on the ground beside her neck, a tremor through the earth and she moved.
Her hands came up and looped around the back of Hilda's head and pulled down, a crack and she felt pain lance through her once more, spreading across her temples as she pulled the girl into a rather painful headbutt, at the same time she jerked her legs up as far as she could in the confusion.
With a single knee pressed between the two of them, she pushed with all her might and threw the weight off her body, rolling as she did so and clambering onto all fours. Coughing and focusing on the blur, she charged forwards and kicked right into the side of the girl, earning a gasp and a pained groan.
She would have kicked her again if Hilda hadn't rolled onto her back and held up her hands in surrender, wearing a pained look on her face while twitching.
Edelgard held herself back and exhaled, nodding once and then leaning down, grabbing the displaced axe and shouldering it.
Now to find Claude.
Focus was slow to return to her, but it eventually returned.
And with it came a rather startling picture as she picked herself back up, eyes flickering all around to try and notice where the sounds and flashes of light were coming from.
But of all the sights she was expecting, she would not have expected to see this specific one.
Eyes widened as she watched Catherine slam Goetia into the ground in a full press, but it was a short thing before she was rolled off his body, Goetia flew to his feet and threw a single punch into the top of her head and then kicked up into her chin, or tried too. Catherine spread her arms wide and wrapped them around, twisting her body and dragging them both down into a hold.
Goetia made a sound, a mixture of a growl and a snarl, and then there was a veritable storm of wind. She recognised the spell from descriptions, but the last thing she would have expected was for him to deploy an Excalibur around himself just to avoid getting pinned to the ground.
The vortex carried them both into the air before it cut short, the wind spat them both out and towards the ground, awkwardly falling to the ground in a tangled mess of limbs, her teacher was slower to rise than Catherine, who had managed to whip out a training knife and swung towards his head.
A flash of light and a sudden rush of wind sent Catherine sprawling away from him.
Lysithea jerked as she remembered she was actually still in the fight, taking in a breath and pushing herself to her feet, she rushed up and immediately regretted moving too quickly. Her vision swam and her legs felt like metal, she barely managed to keep herself upright, but she managed it.
Pulling on her internal strength, she grit her teeth and brought her hands up.
With a flex of strength, she focused on the sight in her minds eye and then swung out.
Fingers carved through space, tracing lines and symbols in the air before her. With a deep breath, she flexed her hands and pushed. There was a short pause before it pulsed and burst, with a loud pop, the runes exploded with light and surged towards their target, it was something she had practiced with but had been met with limited success.
As expected, her teacher sensed something.
Or he heard it, to her it sounded like a muffled thunder but it was still loud, the ringing in her ears shut out most of the noise.
He turned on her and spotted the flashes of light, a mixture of flame and ice steamed through the air. He stepped and brought up his lone hand, the ward formed in front of him and then braced against the explosion. It washed over the front of the barrier with a loud hiss, flames and ice spread over it with a cracking of breaking glass.
Lysithea clenched her fist, spikes formed around him and accelerated towards him.
He flashed with light, a pillar engulfed him and he vanished in the second before they struck.
She froze and stared with wide eyes, glaring left and right and spotting nothing, but the back of her neck tingled.
Turning, she spread her arms wide and formed her own ward.
But she had few exceptions and already was forced several steps backwards, a shuddering feeling spread through her limbs and nerves. Her body tensed and convulsed as the thoron slammed into her shield and spread great cracks through it in mere seconds. She grit her teeth so hard she thought they would shatter.
When the spell faded, it felt like years had passed, and it took longer still for her to finally muster the strength to inhale. Swinging her hands outwards, she blasted apart the ward and launched a thick spread of poison from the space before her, the malignant liquid with a texture like cooking oil hissed as it splattered into the ground.
It bubbled then froze solid within seconds.
Her eyes danced up, Goetia with his hand aimed down, mist still hanging around his fingers, never once removing his eyes from her.
His hand swung up at the same time she thrust down.
Seconds passed, long and agonising seconds as she waited for the spell to materialise, the world ground to a crawl. Everything moving so slowly that she could pick out every single minute detail. The wild movements of Goetia's hair, the pulse of light climbing across his palm, the knights who were charging towards him from behind.
All of it.
She needed something else.
Her mind whirled with the possibilities.
She settled on one and narrowed her eyes, the world resumed as the spell came into effect. The ground beneath Goetia glowed and pulsed, a faint shroud of darkness barely past the ankles formed.
And then came the buzzing, the claps of a thousand beating wings.
Goetia froze for half a second, his eyes swung down and then immediately he stepped up. It was a spell she was disturbed with, even for those of dark magic, but she utilised it all the same. The swarm of insects conjured by magic surged forwards and up, flinging themselves into Goetia with bites and stings.
Her fingers curled like claws, hooking around the invisible target and forcing the bugs closer and closer to Goetia, closing in as she pressed millimetre by millimetre.
She did not know how long it was, but she heard the sound in the split second before the world was nothing but flames and wind.
Goetia let out a rather loud roar, it sounded inhuman to her ears, echoing in ways that a human voice could not. Then the spell, the swarm of insects, exploded outwards and upwards, the vortex span around and then burst into flames. A thousand points of light glowed like stars, the insects burnt to ash as they were carried high by the mixture of the flame and the Excalibur.
It cut short before it hit her, but that was now what she was concerned with.
No, it was when Goetia all but appeared from within the tower of flame.
She froze on the spot, rooted to the ground as he fixed her with eyes that burned scarlet red, brighter than she had ever seen them glow before and filled with…something that made her feel as though she would stop breathing.
He wouldn't kill her.
He wouldn't kill her.
He wouldn't kill her-
Lysithea felt her breath lodge in her throat, her eyes widened as something pressed against her forehead. She glanced up and stopped doing anything else. The world fell hushed and silent, Goetia stood there, right in front of her, with his lone hand pressed flat against her forehead.
His fingers closed down, slowly they dropped onto her scalp and did no more.
She met Goetia's eyes, still unmoving.
He looked down at her, then spoke only a single sentence.
"...You did well enough."
Well enough.
Even as a compliment, it stung.
She felt the pressure build up, the increase of magical energy forming as if sucking the very air from her lungs. She lost whatever breath she had buried in her and failed to even wheeze.
Well enough.
It sounded like an excuse.
It sounded like…
…She didn't want to be well enough.
She wanted…she wanted to win.
Her eyes locked onto Goetia, something flooded her body that made her feel loose and mobile. She swung her hands up and gripped his wrist, snarling as she yanked it aside. She barely even recognised the noise she made in the back of her throat, a sound which would have been better suited for some sort of demonic beast.
Displacing his hand, she yelled out and swung her leg upwards as hard as she could.
Goetia let out a wheeze, something higher than she had heard, and in the moments before his hand flashed, she spotted where she had driven her shin.
Right between his legs.
…She was thankful for the encroaching blackness as whatever spell Goetia launched knocked her out.
Because the horror of her actions caught up with her at that moment.
A flash of light, she swung her hand about and loosened the spell, it snapped from her fingers so swiftly that she barely had a chance to aim it. Rather, she let it go the second she saw someone moving towards her with what she assumed would be harmful intent.
Dorothea's mind was a rush of adrenaline at current, fighting was just what she was doing because there was nothing else to do.
The circumstances passed into mere background thoughts, she just kept loosening spells as fast as she could aim them. As were the other mages who surrounded her, of all types and shapes they strung out from the hands of the casters, flying into the mix of forces and knocking down men and women.
Yet their cries of pain still reached Dorothea and it twisted her heart.
Really, all she wished to be was a songstress.
That and little else had been what dominated her thoughts for so very long and she wondered if it was truly such a bad thing to wish for. Yet with the cost of this, she found it difficult to link one and the other together.
When would she need this in her future?
She certainly hoped she wouldn't need it.
But her thoughts of the future vanished as swiftly as they had come to her, she brought her hands up and let the magical energy flow through her. She tensed her body and then swung down, the lighting followed mere seconds later, trailing behind the chapping motion as it struck right down.
Bodies flew and voices were raised, she held herself back and allowed her body a moment to rest.
Pain exploded over her side, a gasp wrenched itself free of her lips as she fell, a weight slammed into her and for a brief terrifying moment, she thought she might have gotten tackled or struck by someone who snuck up.
Yet when she turned her head through the fall, she watched another mage fly over the top of her, vanishing above her and into the ground behind, she heard the thud and felt the tremor of their body striking the earth. She hit the ground on her hands, keeping herself upright as best she could and turning for the source.
It took few seconds to find it.
Manuela cut a rather daunting figure wherever she might have been, either in the classroom, on the stage or even in the battlefield, it seemed.
Regardless of how out of place someone would have thought her, seeing the professor there hurling spells out as if they were nothing more than casual party tricks was a rather intimidating sight. More so when she watched the woman swing out her hand in an almost lethargic backhanded motion.
The air rippled, light pulsed and Dorothea watched the gale lift a full grown man in plate armour well over two metres into the air before sending them crashing down into the earth with a heavy crack. She stayed there on her back, watching with wide eyes before her body went into action.
Scrambling up, she took in a breath and pointed for the songstress.
She hoped someone on her side would see, but she could barely tell left from right in the madness that surrounded her.
Instead she twisted her body around, golden flares surrounded her fingers as she twirled around, a movement almost like that of a dance, then she stepped forwards and brought her hands to bare and thrust them forwards. A crackle and then a roar in front of her.
Pupils contracted at the intensity of light, the beam accelerated instantly-
It twisted, Manuela turned and she did not see what happened, only that the beam struck something in front of the teacher and then bounced off it, almost like it was reflected, and then launched itself into the sky before it vanished less than a second later.
The eyes of the Professor swung onto her.
Dorothea found it stilling for another way rather than the monster Gotie had thrown at them as revenge for a prank.
…Sentiment did not keep her feet long.
She tried something different, another deft movement and it was a spell that could not be blocked through such means. Strength returned to her body as Manuela visibly shuddered at the grip of the nosferatu, the pull of power leaving her making her stumble for only a moment.
Yet Dorothea did not linger, she ducked and ran.
A crash behind her, she did not dare turn around but she felt the dirt rain down on the back of her neck and into her hair, watching it sail past her eyes. Spinning and slashing down once more, but again, she did not bother to wait and see if the thunder actually managed to strike the professor.
She assumed it would not and if it did, she assumed that Manuela could take it.
It was little surprise, then, that she felt another burst through the air and threw herself to the ground, hitting it roughly on her shoulder and gasping, she rolled and briefly caught sight of the flash of light tearing through the earth, sending flutters of debris soaring up and above her, washing her over with dirt.
As expected.
It would be tough.
She rolled once again and thrust her hand, feeling her strength tug just a bit more and fired off another thoron at the professor. It was perhaps something she knew would never work, but then again, maybe it didn't need to.
She had stolen just enough strength and trained just enough for one last movement.
Dorothea rolled and swung her hand down in an arc, in the moment that the thoron was blocked by Manuela, thunder dropped from the sky and slammed into the ground next to the professor. The explosion of dirt and the shockwave sent the woman into a cartwheel, an almost comical sight were it not for the dizziness that Dorothea currently felt.
With that, she truly felt drained and slumped on the ground, breathing heavily as the sounds of fighting continued around her.
She really hoped they won.
Or at least came close to a win.
Finding Claude was a challenge and a half, her fellow house leader had an uncanny ability to escape danger.
But his numbers were running thin and he was losing places to hide.
It was only after she swung and caught another man in the leg with the axe and dropped him to one knee, that she spotted Claude not far from her. The boy made eye contact with her, something she did not drop, even as she brought the weight of her axe around and slammed it into the chin of the man she just kneecapped.
They slumped down like a puppet without strings.
Claude put on a wry face as he watched her. "You're looking tired."
Edelgard let out a gasping breath, she straightened and kept her eyes locked onto him and on the arrow he had nocked into his bow. The string wasn't drawn yet, but she knew how fast he could loosen in. If she lost focus for even a moment, then he could take her out with that.
"If you're worried I'll be too tired to fight you…" She breathed out, managing to wear a confident smile on her face. She hoped it hid the exhaustion she otherwise felt. It felt like she had been fighting for hours. "I am afraid I will have to disappoint."
"Do you have too?" Claude offered a playful smirk. "You could always just surrender, you know? I think you really could do with a rest."
"Are you worried, Claude? You sound nervous."
"...I just watched you plough through all those knights like you were cutting down wheat." He flatly remarked, jerking his head towards her. "I believe I am rather entitled to feeling a bit nervous at the idea of suddenly finding myself now in your sights."
Edelgard allowed herself only a moment to think on Claude's words.
She supposed, in his shoes, she might have felt some sense of trepidation.
But she would never back down.
"Would you surrender in my place, Claude?"
The tanned boy watched her for a couple of moments, then gave a lopsided grin. "Nah. I'd probably turn and run away. Better to fight fresh than to lose tired, you get what I mean?"
Edelgard huffed. "As always, you have a third answer for a question that is yes or no."
"Every yes or no is really just; yes, no and maybe."
She very nearly rolled her eyes at him before she caught herself, she knew what he was doing and knew that if she lost focus because of his antics, then he would catch her. A rather slippery individual, that never changed.
Narrowing her eyes, she adjusted her footing and rolled her lips.
Claude started to tug at the bowstring, she heard it creak slightly.
This could not go on for long between them, someone would need to move first.
But she saw the movement in the corner of her eye, the sight of Petra unslinging the bow and nocking her own arrow into it.
…She could have spotted her without drawing attention to it, but she glanced in Petra's direction a bit too long for it to be random. It was a movement that Claude noticed if his twitch was any indication, she saw his own eyes dance towards that direction and his tongue briefly darted out to wet his lips.
A breath left his nose.
Claude dived backwards and turned on Petra, pulling his string back and loosening the arrow.
Edelgard launched herself forwards, springing off the ground in a jump that cleared far more distance than she imagined herself doing. Vaguely she heard the cry of pain from Petra, but she dismissed it as she focused on Claude and him alone, bringing her axe to bare the second his feet hit the ground and he turned towards her.
A fraction of a second later, his eyes widened.
She swung with all her might and caught the bow with the edge of her axe, knocking it clean out of his hands and flinging it away. Leaving behind a rather dumbfounded looking Claude who was now without a weapon. But she wasn't going to risk engaging him in a battle of strength.
She had seen how far and fast he could loose an arrow.
Edelgard was too tired to contest him in that sort of contest.
With her whole body still moving, she crashed into Claude and tackled them both to the ground, throwing her weight into the shoulder barge and ensuring she landed on top of him. Claude let out a grunt of pain and a wheeze, she was pushing herself up and swinging around the shaft of the axe.
Pressing it down on his neck, she made sure not to choke him too much, but enough to hold him in position.
He briefly looked rather panicked, gaping up at her as she imagined a fish would do for a fisherman.
It was a rare treat, she supposed to see him looking so utterly lost as right this moment, where he didn't have a plan to get out of this predicament.
She pressed down a little further and leaned forwards, pulling her lips into a triumphant smirk that perhaps could have been a bit too smug.
"Care to surrender?" She asked in a breathless voice, still keeping her amusement present.
She got a shaky nod back in response and pulled her weight off him, still straddling him as he let out a cough, moving a hand up to rub at his throat.
"...And I thought Sparkles was the one to watch out for." He croaked.
Edelgard smirked. "That…was your failing. You missed the forest for the trees."
"...The what?"
She didn't blame him for that reaction.
She had a similar one when Goetia dropped that saying during one of the training sessions, though she forgot what it related to at the time.
Never in his life could he have imagined a pain like the one he was currently experiencing.
He staggered back and flexed every muscle in his body, uncaring to where Lysithea had been launched or how she had landed, all he could focus on was the lances of agony driving through his body at this very moment.
Another step back, his lips peeled open and he spat out a breath, a mixture of spittle and wind, a low and pained groan without any intelligence behind it. Merely one of pain, as though breathing and gasping would somehow make the blow hurt him in a lesser manner.
Goetia stumbled forwards and caught himself, activating a spell on instinct and turning himself about, the wind spell knocked down some who had thought to charge him, but he did not see who it was or how many there were. All he wanted was the peace to cast a recovery spell and heal himself from this pain.
…Why did Lysithea have to strike him there of all the places?
Not even Fujimaru had done that in their desperation to win.
Sweat dripped off his brow, he watched the droplets fall to the grass and splatter onto the greenery.
His eyes climbed up and he turned, spotting the distinct figure of Catherine staring at him with raised brows.
Her mistake, she had not yet moved and looked close to laughing at him.
Goetia felt his nerves spike as he straightened out, burying the pain as deep as it would go and ignoring the flashes and burns spreading out across his hips and legs. He turned with limbs that felt boneless, stomping his feet down and marching towards the woman, eyes wide and face tight.
He was unwilling to show any of the pain he currently felt.
"You can just surrender and get that looked at, you know?"
The snicker in her words made him burn all the more, the desire to just wipe the amusement clean off her face and out of her eyes. Nothing else mattered in this moment to him, merely the fact he was going to make sure that Catherine never spoke of this to anyone as some manner of story to boast about.
Goetia clenched his fingers into a fist and let out a sharp breath.
"Alright." Catherine rolled her shoulders and stalked forwards, hoisting the sword she had likely plucked off from some unlucky soul. "It's you and me then, Sparkles."
The nickname of Von Riegan had his jaw clench.
"No." He growled back to her, preparing his body for the charge and turning side on, lowering himself and taking in a deep breath. "It is just me, Catherine."
Stepping forwards, he pushed himself into a run that sent his body screaming beneath the skin and he paid no heed to it. Charging forwards without stopping or letting any stand in his path. A spell left and right cleared any obstacles and Catherine dropped down and charged to meet him.
Then they crashed into one another, for lack of a better word, as he drove his shoulder into her torso at the same time the hilt of her sword cracked against his cheek and rocked his vision. The both stumbled away, his face awash with pain while his shoulder stung from striking full plate metal.
He wasted little time, swinging around and throwing a swift left hook.
Catherine wasn't sure what she was expecting from a fight with Goetia.
He was always the mage.
The foreign mage who used spells and he struck her as the sort who never wanted to get his hands dirty in a fight, the type who saw it as beneath him.
That was her initial impression of him, that sort of condescending attitude that was always rather pleasing to see knocked off when someone landed a punch on them or they were forced out of their comfort zone.
That was how she saw Goetia.
Catherine would admit that things had changed a little since then, from that time he refused to arm wrestle her as if she was some sort of annoyance to the time he walked in and threatened to crush her and the Golden Deers with his bare hand. It was a marked turn, but she couldn't help but wonder if it was always there.
For all Goetia used his magic…he was deceptively good at throwing a punch.
That was her thought as the fist cracked against her cheeks and buckled her stance, it was a good and solid punch. The sort she would have expected from a man who threw the same sort of punch every single day.
She did briefly recall spotting Goetia when he was wandering around nearly butt naked save for the blanket.
Idly, she recalled his impressive muscle tone and how it shouldn't have been possible for a man who solely practised magic to get a body like that.
With the benefit of hindsight, it made sense he could throw a punch.
She stepped back and brought her sword out, his reactions were equally impressive. His lone hand countered and met the sword midway, slapping it down and jerking back to try and counter her. She wasn't careless enough to fall for that, leaning out of his range and letting him pass through nothing but air.
A step back and then a charge forwards, a heavier swing with both hands, designed to knock someone off balance.
Goetia brought up his arm and shielded his face, the edge of the training sword struck against his bare skin - revealing the odd scars along his body to the world as the sleeve dropped down - and made a sound like a hammer striking meat in a butcher's. A tender thwack which was decidedly unpleasant.
The reaction was a slight stumble and nothing else, a sharp intake of breath if she wasn't imagining things.
Pushing the blade back, he tried for another counter, a straight jab for her face.
Her head dropped, his knuckles struck her forehead and she felt pain lance over her temples, but she imagined it was worse for Goetia, the hand jerked backwards and she pushed on, another thrust for his chest was chopped down, knocking it off angle, he stepped and trapped the sword between his arm and his body, under his armpit.
A kick landed against her left side, she grimaced and swung forwards.
Her headbutt caught his temple and she briefly blinked back in a daze, able to pull her sword free but feeling as if she had just headbutted a brick wall.
If there was some joke hidden in that, she missed it during the heat of the moment.
Instead she raised her sword high and swung down, another blow hammered into Goetia's forearm and slid across at the angle he held it at. Grazing down skin and over his now reddened fingers. She didn't have time to be impressed by his endurance as she continued the offensive.
He kept up with her, turning back body back and forth to meet the blows as they came, red eyes darting around and following her every movement.
But that was what he was doing.
Following.
Then perhaps-
A thrust at the left, he followed.
She punched him in the right side with her free hand, Goetia hissed and stumbled at the feint. She followed and thrust a hand out, her fingers snaked through his long golden hair and dragged him back into her range, yanking down with all her might and swinging her knee up right into his chest.
A cough rewarded her.
Then she felt his arm loop around her knee before she could drop it, he pulled up and her weight fell back, he followed suit and thrust himself onto her, ensuring they both went down into the dirt, landing at an angle, she quickly kicked him and knocked him away from her.
Catherine scrambled to her feet and brought her sword around.
The blade stopped.
Goetia caught it just before it could land on the right of his head, fingers curled around the blade.
She twisted and yanked it away, Goetia released it the second he felt something happen and managed to avoid being caught. He was smarter than she would have thought when it came to this sort of thing.
As if he had experience duelling swordsmen with good skill.
…He really wasn't that bad.
…She was actually having a bit of fun with this.
His arm came back up in a guard and his eyes narrowed, she could see the gashes in his skin, the red sliding down his forearm and the bruises forming on tanned features. She was sure she might have still had pieces of his golden hair wrapped around her fingers as well.
Both of them were breathing, practically panting like wolves, as they glared at one another, waiting for the first to make the move.
"How…odd…"
Goetia spoke, his voice wistful.
"...This is different…to before…"
She wasn't sure what he was talking about, but she felt compelled to respond.
"...You're not bad, you know?"
She got a huff in response, but it lacked the sort of heat she had come to expect from him.
"This is one field I am content to receive such words."
Goetia took in a slow breath, then stepped forwards and swung out again at her.
She expects the punch, except he stops and suddenly she is suffering from a sharp kick just under her ribs. With a cough, she staggers and feels her eyes widen in surprise. It was something she hadn't been expecting, more so when Goetia swung from the other side, moving fast like a snake and catching her in the left before she could actually recover from the first.
He spins on one heel and kicks out, the third and final kick strikes her pelvis and she bucks backwards, face twitching as he stamps down and launches another offensive at her. The mixture of the single punch and the kicks has more variety than she was expecting, at least in the initial barrage.
But she catches it.
The brief hesitation when he throws a punch and changes to a kick.
He's accommodating for his missing limb, something he was expecting to use.
It's a minor slip and she's not sure he's even aware.
He threw another right hook, she parried it away with the sword and stepped back, her own leg came up just as he swung his right foot at her. His shin cracked against the steel plate, his eyes twitched at the pain and his leg jerked backwards, the second it hit the ground, she launched forwards.
A swing for his neck, he caught it with the back of his hand and stumbled with it, another narrowed eyed look and he leaned back to avoid the thrust, almost falling as he avoided her. Bringing his lone arm up, he swung down.
Something she was ready for, holding up her sword and waiting.
Goetia really was showing himself to be a bag of tricks.
At this point, she wouldn't have been surprised if he started swinging a sword around.
But it was almost a shame.
She would have liked to fight him if he had both hands, he would have made for a decent sparring partner if that was the case.
…Maybe.
His knuckles cracked against the flat of Catherine's sword, she swung up at his chin with her free hand, he stepped back and let the fist zoom past his face. Goetia twisted and pulled, his fingers wrapped around the sword and dragged down, ignoring the bite of metal - even blunted - against his fingers and pulling her out of position.
Far enough out that he could drop down into a roll and sweep her legs out beneath her, she toppled forwards and onto her front, he spun around and rolled back, locking his legs around her sword arm and gripping it at the wrist with his lone hand, pulling right and trapping her.
Catherine snarled and fought to wrench herself free, pushing up on her knees and forcing herself into a crawl, even then she did not loosen her hold on the training sword.
Her capacity for pain was as impressive as it was annoying for him.
She released the sword, fingers opened and the blade slipped out.
Except they then snapped shut, curling around the collar of the simple cloth he wore as opposed to his regular attire.
The plain brown cloak as he used to wear.
Goetia glanced down and had a single moment to blink, then widened his eyes as Catherine rolled onto her side, the world went vertical before he crashed into the ground face first, his head bounced off the dirt and he felt his nose cry out from the impact, his hold loosened enough for it to be torn open, Catherine retrieving her hand.
He rolled and kicked, earning a gasp as he landed a solid blow against Catherine's side, she staggered back onto one leg, whipping her head around to face him.
Goetia surged forwards, though his dazed vision made it more of a clumsy tackle, but he was in the best position to use Jacob's limbs as it was intended to be used.
His legs wrapped around her from behind and his arm crossed over her chest and locked her shoulder in place, his fingers clamped down onto the fabric on his right shoulder and held it in place, the hold preventing her from moving her right arm in any capacity, then they fell backwards, he grunted as she thrashed and bucked like a feral animal.
Forcing himself to lean to the side to avoid catching an elbow, yet even then he did not entirely succeed.
Twice she caught him in the temple and twice he nearly loosened her, but he did not stop, rather he pulled tighter and closed his fingers into a fist. The sound of fabric stretching, tearing, it shrieked in his ears as Catherine growled and her struggles intensified, he started to squeeze with his thighs, forcing the air out of her body.
She would tire herself out soon.
She had to, it was only natural…
…Except he was starting to feel the exhaustion as well, the pain in his muscles and the blood in his limbs cutting off.
It was a cold numbness spreading through him.
Her right hand tugged and pulled at his arm first, then dropped to his legs to free them.
He clenched his teeth hard and refused to buckle, even as she started to twist at his skin.
Shadows fell over them and the struggles paused from Catherine.
Goetia stopped and squinted at them, his blurred vision focusing as he realised what he was looking at.
The bruised faces of the Black Eagles stared down at the pair of them, a mixture of surprise and mirth.
Catherine let out a breath.
"...Guess you got me then…huh?"
…She sounded only mildly disappointed.
Goetia released her, dropping his limbs onto the ground with a thud and let out a sharp hiss. It was far more physical than he was truly accustomed to. The woman pushed herself off his body, standing up and rolling her shoulders, flexing her sword arm back and forth and shaking it, as though trying to pull some feeling back into the limb.
…He could empathise with her.
She turned around and leaned down, grabbing him by the arm and then yanking upwards, Goetia kept silent as he was pulled to his feet. The only noise that might have been heard by those closest was the barest hint of a gasp, but that was all. He swayed back and forth, eyes still facing forwards.
Then he blinked and looked at Catherine as she watched him rather wearily.
For a few moments, none spoke.
Then Catherine let out a snort and shook her head. "...Not bad for a mage…especially with one hand but…ah well."
With a shrug, she grinned and then turned and walked through the parting lines, swinging her hand up. "Alright Deers, let's clear a path for the victors and grab all the injured and will someone find Manuela?"
Goetia briefly noted Dorothea wince at the mention of the name, a flutter of a guilty look on her face.
Edelgard let out a sharp breath and looked around. "We…we keep pushing forwards. We need to be far away from the Blue Lions to recover…they will be marching to catch up with us and we cannot meet them on an open field."
She looked at him, then stepped forwards and rested a hand on his shoulder.
He would have disregarded her touch any other time.
Right now he was physically exhausted in a way he had never been before.
"...Caspar." Edelgard called out. "Help Goetia, everyone else…move as fast as you can."
The blue oaf parted from the crowd and came to him, slinging his arm over his shoulder and hoisting up his weight.
Goetia accepted it.
It was logical to conserve his strength until he needed to cast the recovery spells for the group in addition with the mages they had at present, however many were left at least. Once that was accomplished, he would be back to his full strength as if the skirmish with Catherine had never occurred at all.
…That was all this was.
But there was something more pressing.
"How many?"
With Edelgard's back to him, he did not see her expression.
But he did not need to do so, in order to grasp the emotions that flooded through her, the faint drop of her head and the twitch of her shoulders spoke of ill news. Beyond that, he needed to only use his eyes to judge what had transpired and it did not bode well for them at all.
"We have eighteen remaining. Including those of our class. Linhardt was taken out by Manuela, Petra was defeated by Claude before I caught him."
"...Did you strike him hard?"
"...I knocked him down fairly quickly, yes."
Eighteen.
They lost perhaps half against the Golden Deers.
And the blue lions could well have had double that number, or approaching triple.
And Byleth was present as well.
"...I've seen victory from worse odds." He commented idly.
Edelgard was silent for a moment.
Then he heard a single huff of noise, an exhale of breath.
With a turn of the head, the pale haired girl looked at him with an exhausted expression and a quirked lip. "...Then I truly hope that we can repeat such sights for you."
"As well you should." Goetia took in a breath. "Else I will advise regular battles against Heracles."
"...Please do not make jokes like that."
"...Jokes?"