Chapter 38: The Iron Wall and the Shadow
The clash of steel echoed down the courtyard like thunder as Felix collided with the vanguard shield line.
His broadsword swung in a massive, sweeping arc, the sheer weight of the blow buckling two vanguard tower shields instantly and throwing four heavily armored guards off the marble steps. The air rang with the screech of scraping iron.
"Hold the stair!" Vane roared from the top landing, his broad-bladed spear gleaming under the arc-lamps. "Suppress the big one!"
Three polearms thrust simultaneously toward Felix's chest.
Before the cold steel could pierce his armor, a blur of motion flickered across his vision. Lucy dropped from the upper balustrade, her obsidian daggers striking with terrifying precision. Clang! Clang! Clang! She deflected the three spearheads in rapid succession, her foot planting firmly on the middle shaft to drive it into the stone floor.
Using her momentum, she launched herself upward, her secondary dagger slashing across the throat latch of the lead guard. He collapsed without a sound.
"Too close, Sentinel," Lucy purred, landing lightly back behind Felix's left shoulder, her breathing rhythmic and calm.
"I had it covered," Felix grunted, stepping forward to absorb a heavy shield bash with his massive iron pauldron. The impact rattled his arm, but he didn't give an inch. He slammed his elbow back into the guard's visor, shattering the metal faceplate. "Though... nice timing."
"Don't get used to it," she replied, spinning her right dagger into a reverse grip to catch a side-blade aimed at Felix's exposed flank.
From fifty paces back, near the central fountain, Noah's bowstring sang continuously. Thwip-crack! Thwip-crack! Every arrow found the narrow gap in an armor seam or caught an archer on the high balcony before they could draw on the frontline pair.
"More coming from the south gate!" Noah shouted, pulling three black-feathered arrows from his quiver at once. "You two have about two minutes before they swarm the landing!"
"Two minutes is plenty!" Felix roared. He planted his back foot, driving his broadsword deep into the flagstones and using it as a lever to hurl a massive stone balustrade section straight into the advancing wave of guards.
The heavy stone scattered the front rank in a mess of crushed steel and groans.
In the brief lull that followed, Felix leaned his heavy back against the high pillar, chest heaving beneath his breastplate. Sweat glistened on his forehead, mixing with the dark soot of pine ash from their camp.
Lucy pulled back into the pillar's shadow right next to him. She reached up, her small, gloved hand catching his arm. She didn't check his armor for damage; instead, her eyes searched his face, carrying a sudden, rare sharpness that wasn't about the fight.
"You're taking too many hits for me, Felix," she whispered, her voice dropping the sarcastic edge for the first time.
Felix looked down at her, his dark eyes steady despite the adrenaline roaring in his veins. He reached up with a blood-stained gauntlet, gently touching the corner of his heavy fur mantle still draped over her shoulders.
"That's the job," Felix said softly. "You keep them dead. I keep you breathing."
Lucy stared at him for a beat, her lips parting slightly. A faint, genuine warmth broke through her guarded demeanor. She reached up, her fingers lingering against his wrist over the iron plate.
"If we make it through this night..." Lucy murmured, looking straight into his eyes, "...you're buying the wine."
Felix smiled—a broad, uncharacteristic grin that lit up his rugged face. "Deal, Phantom."
The south gate burst open with a iron clang, signaling the arrival of Vane's secondary reserve unit.
Lucy let go of his wrist, her daggers spinning back into combat ready position. Felix lowered his visor, gripping his sword with both hands once more.
They stepped out from the pillar together—shoulder-to-shoulder, an unbreakable wall of iron and shadow holding the threshold while the rest of the Great Eight pressed into the Great Hall to face Arthur.