"Heh," a voice said. "Solid fortresses are always breached from within. A pity this wanted criminal didn't contact us. We could have made a fortune."
"Exactly," another voice agreed. "What 'Primeval Sorcerer'? No money, no interest."
Laughter and chatter rose, then fell. They had no care for the sorcerers' squabbles.
"Watch your words. For now, we and the Raya Lucaria Academy are in the same boat," the elderly knight interrupted, raising his whip to the northeast. "The Haligtree Army hasn't left yet. If not for the Academy's protection, Lord Matthews would have apologized long ago."
His words didn't stop the din. Instead, the knights erupted in curses.
"Hypocrites! Has the Haligtree Army killed any fewer people? What right do they have to criticize us?"
"Right! They dared attack Stormveil. Think they're the invincible Valkyrie herself? I hope they get their heads smashed."
Godrick, Lord of Stormveil, had denied passage to the Haligtree host. Tensions were high. The Haligtree Army massed to the northeast, near the inland sea.
How could Godrick—the one who'd fled Leyndell in disguise—hope to defeat Malenia?
The elderly knight shook his head. He remembered Leyndell's defense years ago. The demigods' combined forces. Liurnia's conflicts were mere skirmishes.
Tens of thousands of soldiers charged. Boulders from the Trolls fell like rain. Sorcery and incantations outshone the Erdtree's light. Thinking of it made him tremble. His companions were nothing but fodder. Heroes fall, and only these insects remain?
The former deserter sighed. He looked toward the checkpoint ahead. A day and a night had passed. Few remained. Now it was the turn of a couple.
"Halt! Empty your belongings for inspection. Coin purses too!" A soldier stopped them.
The couple complied. They produced their bundles. Offered a handful of Runes to the soldier. Sensible.
The soldier weighed the Runes. Pocketed ten. Tossed the rest into a chest. He was impatient from the day's inspections.
"What are you going to Limgrave for? And take off your hats; let us check your faces properly."
As he spoke, another soldier approached with a portrait.
The artist, masterful, had captured an eighty percent likeness. A man stepped forward, head bowed. "My lords, my wife's face was once injured. It is quite hideous. I wouldn't want to frighten you."
"Interesting. Then we must see it even more."
The soldiers chuckled. Surrounded them. Like they were about to admire some rare animal. The woman kept her head down, a harassed wife. Reluctantly raised a hand. A staff slipped from her sleeve.
Exquisite, the staff. A large, pale blue glintstone at its tip. It caught the eye. The soldiers looked. Instinctively. What a beautiful staff. Greed. Only an instant. Something wrong. Wait, how does this look like a sta—
Brilliant light. Thoughts froze. Magic. Gathering. A sigil. Crystal Burst! One meter. A shotgun against a chest. Erupting glintstone crystals. Pierced armor. Shredded flesh. Gore sprayed Thorne's back. Is Master angry?
The thought. A flash. Sellen. Early. Seeing the soldiers, he didn't overthink. Lifted his foot. Bloodhounds Step! His body vanished. He stepped onto a chevaux-de-frise. The swordsman looked down. A soldier gripped his spear. Swish—
Star-frost. Slashed down. Cleaving the man and his helmet in two. Hot blood sprayed Thorne's face. He didn't wipe it away. Snatched a spear. Spun. Hurl. Cleanly. Toward the watchtower.
Whoosh! Like a shooting star. The two-meter spear. Pierced iron plate. Skewering both the bugler and the crossbowman. They fell, screaming. A human skewer. Crashing onto the coin chest. Golden Runes flew. No one cared about wealth now. Large squads of Cuckoo Soldiers swarmed from the tents. Some hadn't even had time to put on their armor. Wielding swords, spears, raising crossbows.
Because the Academy search party had arrived, not only were the knights slacking off, but except for the patrols, the rest of the soldiers had crawled into tents to escape the sun. A quick reaction. Thorne saw the crossbowmen stop. Raise their light crossbows. Aim at Sellen. A flick of his toe. He caught a shield from beside a corpse. His body vanished again. Bloodhounds Step. A brief burst. Moved several meters laterally. Positioned himself exactly between the crossbowmen and Sellen.
A slight numbness bloomed in my forearm. Bolts thudded into the shield's surface. I peeked out. Crossbowmen reloaded. Soldiers flanked them. Knights on horseback, watching from afar, began to gallop over. Well-trained. This was The Lands Between.
Before the crossbowmen could nock a second bolt, a sphere of magic appeared above their heads. A downpour of crystals followed. Magic Downpour!
Sellen, without my prompting, targeted the crossbowmen. Her primary threat. This low-tier sorcery, devastating in her hands.
Whish, whish, whish.
Magic crystals filled every space. Shredding. Iron plate, muscle — torn like paper. As the mist of blood spread, I turned silently. Hurled the shield. Knocked down a spearman. Locked eyes with Sellen.
No words. Staff and long blade raised simultaneously. Starlight!
Two bursts of intense light bloomed. Afternoon, yet the flare left everyone's vision blank white. Biological instinct forced eyes shut. Closer, I closed my eyes too. But I kept moving, as if I had eyes in my heart. I brushed past Sellen. A brief sensation of clothes rubbing.
"You take the front, I'll take the back!"
"Mhm."
Two staves, different designs, rose again. Magic sigils appeared. Two Glintstone Arcs unleashed. One faster, one larger.
They swept across, waist-high. Enemies briefly blinded. The staves danced. Glintstone Arc after Glintstone Arc. The screech of torn air. Soldiers opened their eyes, only to face more intense light.
Thud, thud, thud.
Like felling trees. Over a dozen soldiers cut in half. Flowers of blood bloomed. Too cruel, yet magnificent. Those behind froze. Before they could gather courage, a mad-dog-like figure pounced.
Odachi in my right hand, straight sword in my left. Drenched in blood. I gave the enemy no room. I charged like a demon from hell. Blades flashing. Beheading, severing legs, piercing chests, bisecting waists.
"This is impossible!"
The elderly knight galloped wildly. Dozens of meters from the battlefield. From their arrival to their reaction, barely half a minute. Nearly half the soldiers guarding the checkpoint slaughtered. The rest, trembling. Too fast. Too fierce. Too efficient.
Even in Leyndell, back then, he had rarely seen such a ferocious warrior.
These two were sorcerers. He felt a sense of doubt, deep in his gut.
A comet slammed head-on.
The knights reacted. Quick. They yanked their reins, dodging. The comet tore through the center of five knights. A carriage behind them exploded.
"Scatter! Use Cuckoo Glintstones to stall them! Wait for the Academy!" The old knight bellowed.
The Cuckoo Knights scattered. Exactly as planned.
A single sorcerer wasn't hard to handle.
Add a mad dog to the mix. Some of them would die today.
The knights were skilled. Horseflesh and steel. They circled, drawing Sellen and Thorne's attention. Glintstone Sorcery was powerful, but slow. Not fast enough to catch a warhorse.
The knights harassed them. Scattered soldiers regrouped. Academy sorcerers raced toward the shore.
Longsword dripping blood, Thorne looked around.
South: Stormveil Castle. Godrick wouldn't help.
West: Village of the Albinaurics. A Cuckoo camp at the mountain's foot.
North: Seluvis wanted him dead. No question.
"Master, break through to the east!"
Thorne pointed his blade east. Without hesitation.
Death if they stayed. A dozen Cuckoo Soldiers in that direction.
"They're breaking out! Pursue them!"
The knights were not fools. They turned their horses. Dust billowed. Lances lowered. Greatshields up. Preparing to charge.
Forty meters. Fifty. Sellen trailed behind. One spell only. She remained calm.
Carian Phalanx.
Ten glintblades. Two feet long. Around her body.
She snapped her fingers.
Go!
The glintblades moved. In pairs. Five targets.
Tracking.
The knights slowed. Hid behind their shields.
"Impressive indeed." Thorne cut down three men and dispersed the rest; seeing this, he couldn't help but cheer. Sellen's magical prowess was not inferior to Miriam's, and her fine control was even superior. He hopped back with a backstep, grabbed Sellen's hand, and ran. Just as they rushed past several corpses, he heard the rhythmic thundering of hooves again. "They have horses; they're faster," Sellen shouted in a low voice, trying to pull her hand away. "Let your master blast them to pieces with Comet Azur first!" "It's no use; the enemy is prepared." Thorne knew these tin cans too well.
He knew it. Sellen was charging her spell. Soon, the enemy would unleash Cuckoo Glintstones. A witch in a dress? No chance against that. They had to stay alive. A scratch meant death.
Thorne stopped.
Suddenly, he pulled Sellen close. Next, he dropped to a crouch, swept her legs, and hoisted her onto his shoulder.
"Thorne, what are you doing?"
Sellen stiffened, trying to keep her body straight.
"Being your human warhorse."
Thorne glanced at the knights behind who were preparing to t...