The air was stifling... breathing had become a heavy chore. The men stood on their tiptoes, hearts leaping into their throats as if time itself had frozen,moving, but with a grueling, agonizing slowness. They stared at the soldiers whose eyes held no life, a mindless horde racing to see who would strike first, who would be more violent, who would perish while killing the most. Living corpses, moving without reason. How do you fight an onslaught that has no will to survive?
War had always been a matter of give and take. As long as both sides desired victory, the rules never changed. As long as each side had a family and a life waiting beyond the battlefield, the scales remained balanced. There was always something at stake.
But Vanguard's men were facing an enemy unlike any they had encountered before. An opponent whose only desire was your demise.
This was the terrifying truth behind the Grace coursing through the veins of the beast lurking at the rear,the Supreme Commander of Okousia's ranks, Zvyrf.
As gazes flickered toward the man's right, they noticed a girl approaching with startling boldness, intruding upon the death game Zvyrf had initiated. She ran with everything she had. Vanguard saw her too, bracing himself in a combat stance despite the impending doom.
"Hilda…!?"
Yes, it was her. Hilda. She found herself closing in on Zvyrf, but there was no sword at her hip, and even if ..no time left to draw one. The collision between the suicide charge and Vanguard's unit was imminent. Hilda realized this,she had analyzed it all in a heartbeat. No time for a clash. But...
Hilda raised her right hand high under Zvyrf's gaze..
Terror gripped him the moment his eyes locked onto her, as if he were staring at a demon, an angel of death, or a hideous monster. His eyes bulged, and his jaw dropped.
"Hilda… what are you doing here!!!" Zvyrf's mind screamed in panic.
Her arm remained outstretched, straight and high. Then, she swung her hand down with force, striking the air toward Zvyrf.
Physically, nothing moved. Hilda's gesture didn't change the material conditions of this ill-fated battlefield. It stirred no hurricane, no whirlwind.
And yet...
Zvyrf's soldiers collapsed to the ground as if death had plucked them one by one. All that frantic running and shoving ended in the dusty earth beneath them.
Zvyrf stood paralyzed, as if struck by lightning. A moment later, the "aftershock" of Hilda's swing passed,a gentle wave of air that seemed to be what had cast Zvyrf into that trance. As soon as the calm breeze from the beauty before him drifted past, the man regained his senses.
But what use was lucidity now..
Life stirred in his men again, but as they began to rise, Vanguard's companions fell upon them with blades and blunt force, desperate to stop them before they succumbed once more to that suicidal frenzy. There was no point in the "Dictator" regaining his consciousness now.
He glared at Hilda, who continued her graceful charge toward him. He gripped his sword, bracing himself. "You bitch!!!!! I'll kill you..."
As she entered his reach, he swung with pure rage, but she ducked, evading a strike that was far too easy for an expert like her to read. She kicked his stiffened wrists, sending the sword flying. He looked down at her, but his vision faltered,the world in his eyes spun as she swept his legs from under him with a lightning-fast low kick, slamming him hard onto the ground.
She rose from her low stance instantly, seizing his arm and twisting it with enough force to nearly pop the shoulder from its socket. The moment Hilda secured him, Zvyrf's soldiers collapsed again.
This time, there was no reprieve,they froze to the ground like stiffened statues. Vanguard's men took their time finishing them off, one by one. When the last was gone, Hilda released the Commander's arm beneath her foot, dragged him toward the horse nearby, and bound his arms with a saddle rope. A dark cloud of defeat settled over the cruel leader's face.
"Hilda!" Vanguard waved from a distance, overjoyed to see her. All the men felt the same, her intervention had saved them from certain death. They gathered around her.
"What took you so long!" Vanguard said with a hint of reproach.
She shrugged.
"What do you mean!? Where are the others?!" he asked with the same casual frustration.
She pointed toward the river.
"Hmm, I see..." Vanguard calmed down a bit. "Good call leaving them and coming here, Hilda." He smiled, patting her head before turning to Zvyrf.
"Looks like you've fallen, Dictator... finally!"
The defeated man muttered unheard curses, but he was smiling. Then, he laughed. A deep, guttural cackle.
He quieted down, his laughter fading into a whisper, then silence. Finally, he spoke.
"If Western Okousia fell to your hands, it was destined. But if you fail... you are far worse than you think."
The group was puzzled. Vanguard replied:
"You mean the Prophecy. I knew you'd say something to ruin the mood. But even if the Prophecy promised your kingdom's fall, it doesn't make our victory any less significant."
"...Victory? What victory? Our strengths were drained after endless wars against Eastern Okousia. Just as the Prophecy said... Okousia burned after the disaster in the capital, 'Caltia,' drowning in a sea of fire. And here we are, watching the other side come true."
"What prophecy...?" some wondered.
Nokio stepped in to explain:
"The Burning East, the Falling West, and the Waning King of the Horn of Yuria."
______
Eastern and Western Okousia had fought for centuries,over 300 years of border wars, land disputes, Graces, the river, and bloodlines. No matter the reason, the two kingdoms always found an excuse for war. But exactly 51 years ago, the world plunged into total darkness during a night known as..
"The Night of the Blind."
Everyone lost their sight, and those with Graces lost their powers along with it. It was brief,extremely brief, lasting no more than a moment..but the chaos and panic from that darkness awakened a lingering madness and terror in people, a premonition of doom.
This prophecy was one of those that had resurfaced after being buried in the dark pages of history books and folklore.
"A Questian man like you would never understand... you are ignorant. You are just a small puppet in an endless marionette theater."
Zvyrf's words were heavy. He was an experienced man from a kingdom that had lived through eras of power. Western and Eastern Okousia stretched across the Horn of Yuria, possessing the means to deal with the world across the sea, while Questia drowned in its fear of the world, relying on what it could trade with its two neighbors. Questia had no borders with the sea,to its south lay mountain ranges leading to a void of unknown lands, to its north the intersection of the three kingdoms, and to its flanks sat the two Okousias.
So, when a Chief of Staff of such a kingdom tells you that you know nothing... he means it.
A voice from behind broke the somber silence of their victory. Everyone turned to see a few men trudging heavily toward them, some supporting their comrades. The group that had been with Vandal was arriving to meet Vanguard's unit.
"Where are the others?! Is my brother alright?" Vanguard asked, but he could already spot his brother in the distance with Canaria and the rest. One soldier carried the 'MorningStar,' while others collaborated in dragging the captive Bismark.
Once they gathered and checked on one another, the core group stood together: Vanguard, Vandal, Rico, Kanaria, Nokio, Hilda, and Rodeln, who seemed to have regained some of his energy.
"If you decided to help my brother instead of me, Hilda... remember that well," Vandal reproached her in turn.
She explained herself through untidy panicking hand gestures.
She didn't want him to think of it like that.
Vandal smiled. "Fine, fine... you're right, that was a good call."
"Wait, what's the deal with this 'Hilda'? Doesn't she talk? And why do the Brünn brothers keep scolding her!?" Nokio wondered.
"Oh, you don't know? She's their childhood friend. They came from the same village," Canaria explained. "As for her not talking... well... it's a bit complicated."
"She just doesn't like talking. Let's call it that," Rodeln interjected.
Vandal searched left and right.
"No, they aren't here yet," Canaria answered, knowing he was looking for his two companions.
__________
His two companions who were truly struggling against the beauty who had exhausted them. The beauty who smiled at the two giants with sheer audacity. She held her severed hand, looked at it, then let it go, her smile vanishing.
"It seems you don't quite realize..."
She raised the stump of her arm.
"My Grace, 'Eunomia ,' does not allow you to be favored over me."
Tartar's right hand began to vanish before his very eyes.
"Impossible...!" He could do nothing to stop it. Even Casper couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Meanwhile...
Astria's hand sprouted quietly, slowly, until it was whole as if nothing had happened. She pointed it at them.
"Any physical superiority under the gaze of my Grace shall be given to me."
They knew that. But... this hadn't been accounted for.
"I thought that only applied to muscular strength and effort... I apologize, Tartar!"
"Don't apologize!!" Tartar exploded. "Don't apologize. We have to end this, whatever the cost." He gripped his axe with his left fist, in a wretched state. "We just... have to end this."
When Casper saw the determined look in his partner's eyes, he knew there was no need for apologies. He knew his comrade was ready to pay the price of war, just as he had paid it before.
"Alright, partner... let's do it."
The fight ignited again. A relentless barrage of strikes that never faltered. Astria flowed like water between the two towering walls of muscle.
She succeeded in utilizing the "habit" factor.
she had always fought this way, so she excelled at handling a physical advantage she didn't possess in her daily life, she had earned this edge through combat experience. She also worked on destabilizing their balance and confusing them with the sudden onset of fatigue. But...
"I won't be able to handle the backlash," Astria thought.
This side effect of her ability was the fatal flaw when facing a Grace with this effectiveness.
"If the fight continues at this pace... the exhaustion backlash will be lethal," she mused while dodging and striking in return.
...
The Grace 'Eunomia'... all the acquired effort and shared fatigue would return as a side effect immediately after the Grace was deactivated or the Lumen ran out.
The mercenary duo knew this.
It was, then, a war of attrition.
The pace quickened despite the mounting exhaustion on both sides. Even Astria's Grace wouldn't be of much use if the target had nothing left to give.
But after that sudden charge of exchanged blows..the fight got very heavy and very slow.
Her punches grew weaker. It took a long time of patience and endurance. Casper tried to punch her repeatedly, storing his Grace for a guaranteed hit. Tartar narrowed her field of movement, readying his axe to keep her within reach.
Her movements slowed. Then...
Tartar raised his axe high. She tried to retreat, but Casper directed a strike from his left arm, activating his Grace this time. She tried to escape his flaming palm, backing away... but it seemed her luck had run out. She collapsed to the ground from sheer exhaustion, her legs could no longer carry her weight or keep up with the men's attacks.
Terror filled her as she looked at them.
"If I'm in this state... how are you two still standing!!"
The Grace could take from the opponent's fitness and send Astria's fatigue toward them... but what it couldn't take was the sheer willpower to push through shredded muscles and agony.
Tartar still held his axe high. He knew that if he dropped it this time, he wouldn't be able to lift it again. She scrambled backward, pushing with her hands and feet to escape, still on the ground. Casper couldn't continue; he fell to his knees, even his Grace flickering out.
Tartar moved with agonizing slowness. Every step felt like he was carrying a mountain. He moved toward her... then... he fell.
He didn't have the strength left to swing the axe. So, he left it to gravity.
The axe plummeted with all its weight onto the center of Astria's torso, splitting her vertically.
Astria's blood sprayed, a mixture of viscera and internal organs. She finally fell, her head hitting the ground, her mouth drowning in blood.
And yet... her Grace showed no mercy. It wouldn't let her die without paying the price for what she had consumed.
Her muscles contracted and shriveled. The accumulated exertion squeezed every fiber of her being until her eyes nearly burst from their sockets. She suffered for moments in silence, then her corpse grew still, surrendering to eternal rest.
The place grew quiet, save for the ragged gasping of the two men. It was finally over.
After their breathing steadied, they decided to stand again. They struggled, utterly exhausted, but...
"We have to meet the others." Tartar leaned on his axe to rise, then offered his left hand to his partner's left. Casper smiled and took it.
"Yeah... let's go."