Rain fell like arrows upon her helm. The constant pinging was driving her towards madness as she rode along the edge of the winding trails of Mount Wrath. Her cloak failed to repel the water any longer, drenching her clothes beneath her armor. If not for the mild burning of an azure flame in her armored palm, Archsaintess Jeanette De Belle would be hyperthermic by now.
The Knight Troop riding in her wake produced a musical rhythmic trot. The old hands of her group singing an out-of-tune hymn to raise the new recruits' spirits in this dreadful storm.
What a horrible first mission for aspiring Holy Knights.
That didn't mean it wasn't a beneficial experience for them. Hardship creates tough men, and the world needs men of caliber.
Their mission started in the Elkait Peaks further north, snaking downward to Mount Wrath. The aim? Eliminate any Demons and Minervaians that dared to cross the border between Saine and Marduk.
Marduk, an unholy kingdom corrupted by the evil of the devilish underworld goddess Minerva. Twenty years ago, when Jeanette was six years old. Pope Pius Lummus declared it was the time of prophecy. Launching the great crusade for the supposed ultimate battle between Solaris and Minerva.
He turned out to be wrong.
Many good men and women, and many Saints and Archsaints of that generation, were lost to one man's mistake. Including the man that inspired her to pursue the Holy Path of Solaris.
Jeanette's chilled lips curled into a warm smile, thinking fondly of that man. Her age hadn't reached double digits when she met him. His scowl frightened her when she spied him behind the orphanage Mother's skirt. His voice coarse as tree bark. He embodied the very image of a stern father. Not that she knew hers. She'd been left on the Belle Church steps in a breadbasket as a newborn.
Despite that gruff demur, he spoke with kindness. He was there on an inquiry to ask the mother of the church questions. She didn't understand what he asked of Mother Clementina. Only that it made the Mother uneasy by how pale his words made her.
She remembered how the veins popped against Mother Clementina's skin as her fist clenched her skirt. One sister spotted her snooping and dragged her off to bed. So, the rest of the conversation was a mystery to her, even to this day.
If that was all he did, he wouldn't plague her mind to this day or inspire her to fight evil where it reared its head. That man, Archsaint…
"Lady Belle!"
"Yes, Lichard?" She replied, shaking the past from her mind.
"Look ahead, there!"
His armored finger pointed in an odd direction, high above the trail. What could he spot in this torrent of rain and darkness? Her line of sight followed his finger. She fiercely wiped the rain from her eyes, shielded them with her hand, and activated Sight.
Azure flame illuminated her silver-blue eyes, allowing her to see more than any human could hope to. She saw them, perched on a small ledge… no, they were standing on the rock face as if it was ground.
Three Demons.
"Prepare to engage!" She ordered, flipping her visor down.
Drawing her sword, Jeanette jumped from her horse, blue translucent wings unfurling from her back as her raven black hair whipped in the wind.
"I'll go on ahead, back me up!" She ordered to Lichard, rallying the men for combat. "Your time is done, Demons!"
The Demons scattered, avoiding her first strike that shook the mountainside. Stone the size of a man's fist toppled down the slope. The three demons clung to the mountain's face so they probably couldn't fly. Good for her.
"Ragh!" the female of the trio snarled. She wore tattered and stained vestments, wielding two rusty curved Shina swords. Where had she come across those? Shina was nearly on the opposite side of the world from here. Everything Jeanette knew about the East was limited to her time in the convert states. Her time there numbered less than two months.
The rusted chipped single-edged blades were no better than saws, but their shape and curve made no room for a miss-match. Jeanette dropped her guard, preoccupied with why these swords were so far from their origin. The demon wielding the rusted swords had hair white as snow, with two antlers growing from her head. She leaped, bridging the gap between them by propelling off the cliff side with the speed of a lit rocket.
Parrying the rusty swords with her own, specks of corroded metal and dust flecked off her opponent's weapons. Jeanette got a good look at the Oniska's pearly white fangs.
Grunting, she pushed the Demon back, using her wings to put force behind her blow. The White Demon landed on the rock face, glaring at her decayed weapons.
Don't blame me for your poor maintenance. She grumbled, calling for her buckler. The small round shield materialized on her off-hand. Barely in time, too. The two male Demons, both in as tattered, if not more tattered clothes, then their female comrade, engaged her.
One had crimson hair, adorned in torn pants and a waistcloth, his muscular chest the envy of men, and the desire of women. In his hands was a rusted claymore. The blade is in no better shape than the White Demon's. Rusted as it was. It was a massive piece of steel, over six feet long. Jeanette blocked with her buckler, the vibrations traveling through her entire body. The Red Demon's sword stuck partway through.
"Try this!"
Igniting her blade with Solaris's fire, she swung, catching the demon in the abdomen. Azure flames burst from the sword, shooting through the Red Demon. Solaris's light was the bane of Minerva's foul kin. It purified and destroyed Lesser Demons and sent True Demons back to the realms of hell from where they came. This Demon she couldn't place. His face contorted in pain, but despite his body being half consumed by flame, he didn't burn.
Jeanette couldn't ponder the oddity further as she was jerked towards the mountain. She gritted her teeth, feeling something heavy around her arm. It was a chain. A chain was wrapped around her sword arm!
Following its length, she saw the last demon. Long black bull horns, long hair that went from fiery orange to greasy black. He was pale, with shackles around his wrist. As if he just escaped from hell. She called him Black. The three were Red, White, and Black.
"Let go!" She pulled at the chain. With the power of her Angel, she had more strength than any human, man, or woman could ever hope to achieve. He stumbled forward a bit but planted his feet and pulled! There was a sickening pop! The sound came from her shoulder, her sword arm limp and unresponsive.
"He dislocated it! That's…. not possible!"
Black reeled his arm back, pulling her towards him with such force she couldn't brake with her wings! He was gearing up to hit her when…
"Fire!"
A barrage of azure bullets from her knights pelted Black. Below, Lichard ordered the men to fire another volley with their muskets. The .477 caliber bullets ripped through Black. Splattering the mountain face with blood. She saw his red eyes fade to blue, wide with shock and confusion. Jeanette freed her arm from the chain before he dragged her earthward. Black hit the road, rolled, and disappeared into the rapids.
"Lichard!" she yelled while the thunder roared overhead. Drowning out her voice. It was raining so hard; he didn't see the Demon fall into the river. The glow of her wings was the only light this night.
Slamming her shoulder against the mountain, Jeanette forced her limb to work and took up her sword again. Red and White were harassing her men. Black will have to wait. She threw a few flasks of Holy Water into the rapids and leaped back into the fray.
She'd get Black later. How far could he go?
In the outpost far below the raging battle. Travelers from the adjacent plains filtered through the checkpoint before the mountain path. Unaware of the fierce struggle above them. They registered their belongings to the Holy Knights stationed there. Their guides restocking and waiting for the group heading eastwards to finish preparing for the journey across the plains.
A violent shake, one that caused the mighty mountains to quiver, caught them by surprise. When the knights, travelers, and guides righted themselves. Wondering what could have caused such a phenomenon. One man cried out for them to look up. They gasped as the clouds that hid the mighty Wrath Peaks cleared away, giving them a rare view of the top. Or it would have if the peaks weren't missing.
No, the once-mighty fang of Mount Wrath was split in twain. As if Solaris reached down and cleaved the mountain itself.