A Knight's Lilies

“One of the unspoken truths of the Traxo-Elven conflict is the prolific use of mercenary warriors by the elves of the alliance. Outside of major battles, most of the fighting is done by mercenary companies, free companies, and vengeful refugees displaced by the inexorable advance of the Imperials. Thus, outside of the romantised view of fleet footed elves fighting dogged last stands at every bordertown, checkpoint or pass against the Imperials. We actually find a mostly human on human conflict until the alliance deploys its main forces for a strategic offensive or to plug a hole in the defenses.”

- Professor Bethany Elster, Arterian Academy Department of War Studies, “Analyzing The Traxo-Elven Conflict”

Sophie held up two fingers and gestured for the others to move forward. Mila and Hanabi joined her stacking up next to the wall. The three of them had been hired to clear a small farmhouse on the city state’s outskirts. Allegedly it had only been overrun by only a small handful of undead, likely remnants from the time of the Battle of Brightfields that hadn’t been eradicated. All due to Sophie’s conversation with Hanabi being overhead by guild staffers when she discussed having dealt with the undead before.

Much to Mila’s concern and disapproval, they had accepted the commission as Aralyn had promised a bit of a bonus for the completion of this task in regards to pay. Hanabi however, managed to convince the inquisitor by expressing her desire to test herself against such a strange foe. Sophie was just eager to finish what looked to be a hard but ultimately self contained task that wouldn’t stretch for too long, giving her a chance to return to Aryana’s side.

At least, that was the well of hope she had. One that seemed to be quickly running dry as the guttural ‘zombie-like growls’ were quickly interspersed with goblinoid growls and squawks as they wrecked havoc with the livestock in the farm’s barns. Knowing that they were now up against a likely sentient and fast thinking enemy along with the undead, they took a far more cautious approach. Although in Sophie’s estimate that between herself and Mila, much less with Hanabi’s saintess strength added, this shouldn’t be a problem. Still, she could never be sure.

“Hanabi.” Mila hissed.

Quietly, the outlander grabbed the inquisitor’s legs and lifted her up, allowing the girl to peak through one of the transom windows of the farmhouse. Whatever Mila saw made her frown as she gestured for the outlander to lower her.

“What’d you see?” Sophie whispered.

“Bad news, a shaman. At least currently gorging himself in the kitchen. Likely the necromancer responsible for the rest of this.” Mila growled.

“Main target?”

“Priority at least. Without him, no undead, just goblins.”

“Go with the usual plan?”

“Mmm.”

The two looked at Hanabi who just shrugged and cracked her knuckles.

“I can do it. Done it before.” The outlander affirmed nonchalantly, “I’ve killed goblins, at least. A subjugation trip with Sens-err Lady Eva.” She added when she noticed Mila’s doubt.

“Good enough for me.” Sophie interjected before Mila could object. She shot the inquisitor a knowing gaze, one that was returned with a hint of apathy. That’s right. Worst comes to worst, we’ll be the ones doing the killing after she breaches.

“Got it. Just count on me.”

“Good.” Mila reluctantly huffed, “Then we’ll swing hard right until we clear the kitchen.” Her expressions becoming a mixture of distaste. Seems like working alongside even an ex-saintess and putting her to work is getting to her. Heh.

“Alright. Works for me. Ready?” Sophie let out a soft breath.

The other two nodded quietly, Mila’s face hardening as she prepared for what was to happen.

The trio skirted along the walls until they reached the doorway. They had a limited amount of time to eliminate the shaman. If he escaped to the second floor, there was a high chance magic would be deployed against them. So far, Mila was the only real competent spellcaster amongst them and Sophie had no intention of burdening the poor girl any further.

With their agreement firmly acknowledged. Sophie drew in one final breath and led the other two to a nearby wooden door. As it was on the city outskirts, it was sturdy and well fortified to act as a possible safeguard for the occupants within in case of emergencies. In theory, enough for them to last until nearby Redcloak patrols arrived. Wait a minute, then how did…

Her thoughts faded as the door shattered inwards, exploding into a cloud of splinters under a withering blow from the outlander. Hanabi quickly retreated to care for her bruised knuckles and Mila jumped into to fill the gap.

“Beshdairite Heinaotus Helaotux.” Mila snarled.

Light flared into the house and on instinct, Sophie joined her compatriot in charging inside. Before any goblinoid or greenskin could react, the one sided assault tore into them. With expert precision, Mila cut and sliced into the closest of the goblins, their short lanky forms crumpling under the strikes.

Sophie barged into the kitchen, crashing through a half dissolving skeleton that took the brunt of the holy spell. Rotted bone and bits of flesh plopped across her armour as she drew her blade. A startled grunt from the greenskin shaman, clad in rusted iron armor and draped with cloths and talismans managed to stagger backwards just enough that her first strike missed, his chimes jingling as he fell back. Preparing a second, she felt herself being dragged to a halt as two goblins desperately clawed at her, their eyes glowing an unnatural purple as opposed to the usual yellow or red. Possession, bastard.

Her hand let go of her blade, her fingers curling up as an uncomfortable feeling welled up within her. Like a growth sprouting up within, she felt her airways clog up as her entire body tensed. Horror crossed her face as she felt a scuttling sensation within her, an inhuman itchiness as she tried to claw out whatever it was that was within. A… curse? Dark… ugh…magic? Whatever it was, she could feel the sinister magicks roiling about her insides. Barely able to keep her eyes open under the pressure, she dropped to her knees in agony as something chewed at her from within. With each bite, she tried to scratch at it only for her pained fingers to meet skin.

Teeth clamped down around her sides, pressing onto the armour as the goblins continued their attack. She screamed, uncertain of how or why. Only that there was a glint of malice emanating from the shaman, every move of his hands leading to another twitch of agony within her body. But amongst the pain, there was a gnawing, crushing feeling fighting against the encroaching magics. At first she could only gasp from the pain, but a calmness began enveloping her, enough that she managed to regain enough of her senses to push the two goblins off.

There was hunger as there was agony. Emptiness where there had been magic. Only a brief thought flashed through her mind when she caught one last glimpse of the orc’s face. A momentary look of befuddlement as it snarled. Then, it all went dark.

“Watch out! Two more! Stairs!” Mila called out.

From above, an orc and a skeletal warrior raced towards them. The rage on its face was more than evident from its twisted tusks and how it practically threw the skeleton at them.

Seeing the new threat, Hanabi wasted no time and stifled her disgust. Reaching forward, she punched directly into the head of the undead. Her fist landing a solid hit and punching through the creature’s skull, shattering it and sending a puff of bonemeal and dust that now caked her arm and face.

Hanabi turned to face the orc, the angry creature having paused a little to regard her better, observing the carnage she had caused in the hallway. Hanabi shivered a little as it approached, the creature’s true size standing at least two heads taller than her and far bulkier. Each heavy step almost serving as an introduction to a fraction of its true power.

Half embedded into a wall was a goblin whose spine got shattered, before her feet lay the crumpled remains of the undead. Another goblin had perished when she decapitated it after swinging a plank at it.

She wasn’t afraid of the greenskin though admittedly, the only time she had seen one fight was back when Sensei Eva had thrown one off a balcony. Noting its bulging muscles and stance, she could reasonably expect it to charge headlong at her the same as she would do to it. The orc seemed to think the same thing, narrowing its eyes at her as it tried to look her up and down.

The snugness of the hallway meant that they would likely be the only two combatants. Not that Mila would be helping her, the other girl was busy holding off stray undead wandering in from the living room.

“You’re not her.” The orc growled, huh?! Wait what?

The orc grinned and lifted his axe, “No matter, more to butcher.”

Fine by me. Hanabi steeled herself, won’t feel too different from a goblin. Just one that’s bigger.

“Begone, whelp!” The orc roared and swung.

Hanabi managed to drop into a defensive posture as the swing came for her, her hands reaching up to try and grasp at the handle. To her surprise, she only staggered the blow as the axehead grazed her shoulder. A minor spike of pain cried out as she tried to push the blow back. To her surprise, the orc recoiled from the strike, a more appraising look in its eye as he grinned at her.

“A worthier challenge than I thought.”

Taking advantage of the break, Hanabi retreated a little and held her fists up. It was only now that the thought crossed her mind. Thanks to her outworlder status, she was stronger than any human. It just so happened that there were humanoids and nonhumans that could be equally or even stronger than that in physical prowess. Makes me feel a little useless here, tch. She smiled back at the orc, the world outside the church sure is interseting at least.

“Likewise.” She tried to hide the wince from the wound.

Hearing this only seemed to embolden the orc as a ravenous grin overtook its visage. She recognized the flicker in his eye as that of battle lust. Ahh, I might’ve just made everything worse. Sorry Mila-chan, Sophie-san.

“H’oh.” The orc flexed, “Then have the honor of knowing this, whelp. You shall die at the hands of Durgboz the Drake Hunter. What is your name so that I may etch it upon my blade.”

This… this might be a little more difficult than I thought. “Hanabi Kimura. I’ll remember you, I guess.” She didn’t know what to do and awkwardly bowed, keeping her eye on her opponent. Do they even respect martial arts like we do? Does anyone in this world?

“Meet your end with honor, human.” With a furious roar, the orc charged, his muscles practically pulsating with excitement as he lunged at her.

She dodged, throwing herself through a doorway to avoid the vicious blow. Even then, she could feel the residual air or his passing and the cracking of wood as his axe connected with something.

Before she could stand back up, the doorway exploded into a shower of splinters as the orc charged after her. Only a quick roll allowed her to pass under a table as it too, exploded from a strike.

They were now in a lounging room of sorts, some comforting farmers decor now destroyed or tainted by whatever ritual or terror these invaders had brought with them.

Clambering up to her feet, she leapt back to the ground to duck under another swing of his axe. Needing to regain some control, she reached over and gripped the leg of a chair, absently hurling it at the orc. It was an ineffectual attack, one he swiped away easily enough. But it had given her time to recover.

Tough. She steadied herself and tried to analyze her opponent. Aggressive, rash, very strong, green. Need some way to stop attacks. Looking to her side, she found a suitable shield. Matching his ferocity, she threw herself at him. Her hand raised a small end table up. One strike.

Her arm buckled under the blow, but it worked. The orc’s axe embedded itself into the end table. Though splinters pierced her skin, she had her opening. With all her might, she threw her free hand forward, her fist aimed at the orc’s head. One blow in return.

Pain flared from her hand as she connected the blow. A sickening crack met her might as one of the orc’s tusks snapped off from her attack. But to her horror, the creature only staggered back a little but did not fall, howling with surprised agony. Her eyes widened as a dark grin overtook the creature’s pain and met her gaze. Yabai, they’re already stronger than humans.

In her own hubris, she hadn’t observed enough. Hadn’t analyzed it more thoroughly. Her reward was to be sent flying by the orc’s backhanded strike to her gut.

It was almost as bad as when she first had pains due to puberty, the surprise and shock of it threatening to buckle her legs. She weezed in agony as she fought to remain standing from the hit, her instinct to curl up barely held back by the desire to stay alive. She clutched at her stomach, trying to ease the pain however she could.

Wobbling a little, she backed away slightly, using a couch in the room as a buffer between her and the orc. For his part, he seemed equal parts impressed and amused that she managed to damage him in any meaningful way simply using her hands.

He brandished his axe and a cold wave of doubt swept over her. Seeing the bladed weapons and how unbothered the orc looked. Hanabi started to wonder if she could even win. One wrong move and she was quite certain the axe would end up. Approaching this with naught but confidence and no weapons now seemed like a distinctly bad choice.

As the two moved to circle each other they both stiffened up and froze. Something erupted from the other room, but neither knew what. Whatever it was touched the depths of their beings, a twisting squeezing of something like a sponge, trying to wring them dry. There was an eerie silence save for their increasingly labored breaths, Hanabi herself letting out a small pained groan as the first sign of weakness.

She struggled to breath a little, the pain and this discomforting sensation making her stomach churn in unnatural fashions. Yet she was not alone. The orc wasn’t looking at her anymore, he was looking past her. If not me then… Mila-san? She should be in the hallway, so… ah! The kitchen! The elf and the other orc!

Hanabi tensed. She was trapped. She had to fight the orc in order to aid her new companions. But her chances of success had lowered to unacceptable levels, yet leaving her companions to suffer was equally unacceptable. Some help I am, she chided herself.

“I see.” The orc muttered, “No more games.”

He pointed his axe at her. Hanabi readied herself once more.

“Freings Fletare!” A pained voice cried out.

A wisp of fire zipped from the doorway and struck at the orc, lighting part of his fur armor on fire. The orc roared in frustration and Hanabi seized her chance. She lunged forward. It was a desperate blow and it nearly connected. She slammed against the ground as the orc kicked the couch at her. She wheezed as what little air remaining rushed out of her lungs.

“Freings Fletare!” Came another pained cry followed by a heavy crash.

Another wisp of fire flew towards the orc.

“Troublesome!” He roared as he shrugged off the blow, ignoring the newly burnt skin on his arm.

Hanabi pushed herself off the ground and squared up to the orc, briefly glancing over at the doorway.

Mila was crumpled at the feet of the entrance, her hand still firmly gripped on her blade even as she lay on the floor.

A loud thump echoed from the kitchen and the most unsettling of feelings enveloped the farmhouse. Even the orc snapped his attention over to where the kitchen should be, his battle fury extinguishing in but an instant. Following his gaze, Hanabi paled. Even she could see it, or at least a part of it. Whatever was outside this room that the orc had seen, she could see the shadow writhing about in the air unnaturally. It alone making her body churn with revulsion. A sense of ravenous hunger emanating from it.

“I see… how irritating.” He snarled, “You!” He pointed his axe at Hanabi, startling her.

“What?” Hanabi managed to snap back, though her concern lay with her fallen comrade.

“Hardly.” He snorted, “This might be my loss. But you and I, we are not finished. No foe shall escape Durgboz, of that I swear. Only one of us shall remain. We shall finish this, later.”

“Wha-?”

Hanabi didn’t even get time to react when the orc smashed through the lounge window. Too stunned by the display, she could only stare at the now empty space mouth agape, trying to form words that didn’t quite make it out of her throat. He… he just… he just ran?

“Urgh.”

A soft moan snapped her back to attention as she turned her gaze to the fallen Mila, the inquisitor weakly trying to stand up. Casting a wary glance at the doorway to make sure the strange shadow did not intrude, she hurriedly snatched up the girl and dragged her inside the room.

“Mila, are you okay? Mila?” Hanabi prodded the inquisitor.

Mila remained unresponsive, though when Hanabi put her hand against the girl’s neck, she could feel a weakened but very much present pulse. She’s alive, at least, whew. Finally not in direct danger, Hanabi tried to assess the situation more properly.

The orc had fled, although she recalled it mentioning something about her not “being her”, could it be talking about Mila or Sophie? If so, why? Then there was the dark magic pulse that swept through the house. It was likely related to the shaman and Sophie, which meant something had gone wrong. With the shadow of some amorphous tendril outside the doorway, she could reasonably deduce that it was also a result of dark magic.

“Eugh…” Mila groaned, “Up…” She feebly grasped.

Hanabi helped her at once, lifting an arm over her shoulder. “Mila?”

“Fuweh, gah, gak.” Mila coughed out some blood and Hanabi immediately set her down on one of the few surviving chairs in the room.

“You’re…”

“Fine… I’m-I’ll be fine.”

Hanabi grunted, not entirely believing her comrade.

“Sophie?” Mila asked.

Hanabi turned back towards the doorway, “Don’t know.” She answered.

“That… ugh, that magic. Did you not feel it? The effects?” Mila rasped.

“Unpleasant, inhuman, magical?” Hanabi tried to answer.

“Hah… definitely a saintess.” Mila muttered.

“Hmm?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. We need... hah... we need to check on Sophie.”

“But…” Hanabi paused, flickering between the otherworldly shadow and Mila.

“We need to. She’s, ugh.” Mila grunted, “She’s draining the mana from this place.”

Hanabi frowned but said nothing, her hand clenching back up into a fist in preparation. Supporting Mila, the two of them moved closer. Almost like it was responding to their presence, she could see the shadow of the tendril recede as they got to the hallway. She felt Mila tensing up beside her, the inquisitor finally clocking onto the fact that something was very wrong.

In the hallway, Hanabi could see Mila’s handiwork. A half dozen dead goblins with slashes across their throats and chests. Even one or two armed skeletons that didn’t get extinguished in their violent entry. The shadowy mass however, only got worse the closer they got to the kitchen. Here, the air felt thicker, deader. The ever persistent tug at the back of her mind only grew more intense.

Peaking into the kitchen, Hanabi saw a horrifying sight. Suspended in the center of the room by several leathery undulating tentacles was Sophie. Each of the tendrils having either pierced into the walls or the now desiccated corpse of the orcish shaman impaled on one of them, his flesh having melted on sunken into his now hollowed corpse. Underneath Sophie, two goblins formed the pillars supporting her, or rather, their torn apart corpses kept still standing by more shadowy tendrils holding them upright. Every few seconds, the fleshy mass seemed to pulsate, clearly alive or some form of it.

“By the Goddess.” Mila mumbled as she pushed off Hanabi and rested against the doorway. She slid down and knelt, her hands clasped together in prayer.

Hanabi herself could barely process the sight, her eyes being continually drawn to the strange sludge like slime that dripped from the tendrils. What concerned her the most however, was one tendril that was unlike the others. It was thin, similar to a brittle rope, and it had an eye. A yellow, dry, pale orb with a shadowy iris that seemed to drain the very world around it, surrounding a muted but kaleidoscopic pupil. Behind that singular tendril was a dark, shadowy mass with a hint of something else hidden within it. What the hell is that?

Looking at Mila, the girl didn’t seem to even register the stray tentacle. Can she not see this?

As if noticing that she could see it, it lunged at her.

“Gah!” Hanabi staggered backwards, fear overtaking her heart.

“Hanabi?” Mila looked up.

Hanabi gulped and looked ahead, the eye stalk had stopped directly ahead of her, examining her, looking into her very soul, but unmoving.

“Do you… do you not see it?” Hanabi muttered.

“I see the darkness holding Sophie?” Mila answered.

Huh? So she really doesn’t see it?

The tendrils pulsed once more.

You. See?

An otherworldly voice boomed within her mind.

“Hwah!” Hanabi moved backwards, her hand now firmly gripping the doorway for support.

“Hanabi?!”

Catch. Her.

It boomed once more.

Catch… her?

The eye blinked. In a flash, the duo were blinded by a blackness that stretched into the depths of reality before breaking into a thousand shattered pieces. The tendrils shrunk into the tear in the world before winking out of existence. The air returned to her lungs as life seemed to pour back into this emptiness. Flesh crackled and burst as the shaman’s corpse and goblins began disintegrating.

When the magic began fading, Sophie’s limbs began dropping. Ah! Catch her!

Braving her own fear, she darted into and scooped the soon to fall Sophie in her arms.

“Hmpf.” Caught her.

Carrying Sophie, she motioned to Mila who wearily tried to stand up. Using the remainder of her adrenaline and strength, Hanabi also supported Mila and dragged the two back out of the house.

With fresh air to breath once more. Hanabi stole a big gulp and set the two down against the wall.

Able to relax a little, she breathed her own sigh of relief. Damn, what a day.