Tolrik arrived when the battle was at its peak, and in a few moments, he, Fernand, and Gedik quickly took cover from the shots flying in all directions.
"Shit, what is this, a damn open-field battle?" Fernand grunted, dumbfounded, as he used his destiny seal to create a water barrier.
In an instant, he recited:
"Evocatio, portuno."
Water began to flow across the ground as if it were a flood, causing the crossfire to halt momentarily.
And Gedik took advantage of that moment.
"Sword, go," he murmured with all his will. The sword in his scabbard unsheathed itself, and floating in the air, shot forward with a force and speed that no one present could match.
It flew toward its target, which was none of the people present. Instead, it was the Iaspis Legion's vehicle itself.
The sword split into dozens of shadows, which bombarded the vehicle, destroying it completely, blanketing the combat area in an explosion and clouding the vision of most.
"A swordsman," one of the legionaries grunted in surprise as he tried to retreat.
Unfortunately, a spear pierced his chest, severely wounding him, and he was dragged away by the rest of his comrades as they fell back.
The legionaries' retreat slightly surprised Tolrik, who realized that their prowess did not differ much from that of common mortals if not for their weaponry.
Tolrik thought about pursuing them, but stopped when he realized a different group was present.
And he didn't recognize them at all.
"It seems we have new guests," said the one who appeared to be the group's leader, wiping sweat from his face with the back of his hand.
"Yes, it seems we are. We heard a cry for help and came to check," Tolrik said as he emerged from the shadows. "My name is Tolrik, heir to the lord of the Kongqueror Clan, at your service, sir..."
The man's expression changed slightly upon hearing those words, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly as he looked at his companions, who, just as surprised as he was, had their mouths open.
"So the young lord of the Kongqueror Clan, what a coincidence," he said with a smile. "We were coming to meet with a certain Dracma, an envoy of the clan lord. Is he perhaps with you?"
"If you're looking for Dracma, you have him before you, boy." As if he were a specter, the jovial old man appeared, riding his Ferghana horse at a slow pace as he spoke those words aloud. "And I imagine you are the Griffon Brothers."
"Davin, at your service, gentlemen," the burly man said, bowing courteously.
"These behind me are my brothers and sisters in the group: Michel, Sandro, and Botice."
Echoing his words, three people appeared, each carrying different weapons.
Michel appeared to be some kind of craftsman, as he carried what looked like spiritual bombs in his hands and had ammunition tied around his waist and shoulders.
Sandro seemed to be a sort of sniper, carrying a spiritual rifle shaped like a curved bow.
While the last member of the group was a gloomy-looking woman. She had pale skin and seemed to be of mixed blood, but the strangest thing was that her lips were blue, and she seemed to cover most of her skin with fabric similar to silk and muslin, while carrying needles and blades as weapons that gave Tolrik a sense of danger.
What a diverse group, Tolrik thought to himself, quickly stepping forward to begin a cordial conversation with the group alongside Dracma.
When he suddenly remembered something he had unconsciously forgotten...
"Wait, what about the wounded girl?" he asked, both he and Davin realizing their mistake, and immediately went to the remains of the velocipede.
Where they quickly found two crouching figures, one of them feeding the other.
Tolrik quickly recognized the figure of his own servant, feeding his blood to the unconscious girl, who surprisingly was still alive, although semiconscious.
"Young master," the servant said with a strange expression, "you took too long. It's a good thing I tried using my blood to try and heal her."
Dumbfounding everyone present, the semiconscious girl suddenly sat up, ignoring the fact that she was still severely injured, and yelled:
"Please, save my mistress. She is being held hostage by the princeps, he is provoking the war, he..." But before her words could fully form, she finally lost consciousness.
Although it seemed her vitality continued to recover. But that wasn't what worried the newly assembled group; it was the woman's appearance itself.
Because she was clearly a giant.
...
He wished that a battle of titanic proportions would unfold after that, one that, after much blood and tears, would be resolved in favor of the heroes who finally freed the world from evil...
Or something like that. Ducanor was never much interested in history, even though Uisuk said that if he liked fighting so much, he should listen to the life and death of the many heroes and generals of antiquity.
But Ducanor wasn't one to admire the heroes of the past; he was someone who admired the living. He didn't care in the slightest about the dead, especially the dead from thousands of years ago whom he didn't even know.
How could he admire a stranger?
If there was anyone he admired, it was his mother—well, his adoptive mother. Masha's biological mother; she was the only person he truly admired and respected more than anyone in the world.
Why am I thinking such nonsense? Ducanor thought to himself as he got dressed, wearing a toga with red and purple borders.
The discomfort of the toga made him feel strange as he adjusted the knot tying his chest.
"Shit, why did I have to agree to this?" he said while pacing back and forth in the room.
Now the question was how the hell he had ended up in this situation.
Well, the reason was quite simple: the girl they rescued was curiously none other than a slave to the sister of the current king of the giants.
She had been kidnapped a few months ago by one of the princeps and sent to Edna to be held, but during the transfer to this new prison, her mistress used the opportunity to order her slave to escape and ask for help. Her initial goal was to reach the Lord of Ulheim himself.
But unexpectedly, she had run into Tolrik.
And currently, Tolrik's goal was nothing less than to rescue the princess, and to do so he needed to infiltrate Edna's high society, but his own identity was known.
And for that, they would use an invitation to a high-society party taking place today. This invitation, funnily enough, was the mysterious gift Ulrika had given him, making Ducanor think that perhaps she knew something.
But she wasn't here at this precise moment.
Which was where Ducanor came in, being an unknown, nameless servant.
"Why me? Couldn't you have used Fernand or Gedik?" he had said in an attempt to resist, but the arguments were hard to refute.
Fernand was known within the circles of the Ulheim region, while Gedik was too old to pass unnoticed as a noble attending parties, and the mercenary group had no experience in these kinds of infiltration missions.
"And do I?" he had tried to say, but ultimately said nothing and surrendered to his fate, especially when Gedik surprisingly pointed out that he was, probably after Tolrik, the most attractive of the group despite his size and relatively burly build, unlike Fernand or the mercenaries, plus he was young.
He was currently in a room on a Kongqueror Clan property in the wealthy part of the city; the supposed Iaspis legionaries were apparently just a group of the princeps' own servants or warriors using forgeries.
So they had no problem entering the city, as long as they hid the giant girl's identity.
"Are you ready?" asked a voice full of urgency, and without even warning, the giant girl entered the room.
Leaving Ducanor dumbfounded as he saw her clearly this time. The girl had been badly wounded when he found her; now she was covered in heavy black armor with violet markings, sporting a pair of curved horns on top, without leaving a single millimeter of her skin exposed.
"Hurry up, we must arrive early," she said, urging him as she, without any etiquette, helped dress him by throwing a long, dark blue tunic over his toga for the occasion.
Ducanor didn't speak and simply let himself be helped by the giant girl.
"That armor, where did you get it?" he asked, dumbfounded. He didn't remember her pulling armor out of the wreckage of that strange vehicle.
"This is not armor, it is the materialization of aura," the slave said politely.
Ducanor nodded and asked nothing more. He vaguely remembered Masha referring to her innate giant abilities as aura, but he didn't remember exactly what they entailed.
"I see. Just in case, what is your name?" Ducanor asked, as she placed her hands on his chest while straightening his tunic.
"Is the master interested in me?" the giant girl asked with a flirtatious tone. He hadn't noticed before, but she was quite tall; she wasn't as tall as Masha, but she was almost as tall as he was, reaching his eye level.
Her face was covered by her helmet, preventing him from seeing it, but he vaguely remembered that she had bluish-white hair with delicate features.
"My name is Leona," she said, her voice distorted by the helmet. "Rest assured, I will protect you, Lord Shiva Texus."
To which he simply responded with a smile.
After all, that was his identity now.