[PLAINS 3 - STRUGGLE]

They snap around to see The Knight, framed gloriously at the top of the hill by the barely visible stars.

“Ride to me, and be measured,” it commands like a beckon from the dead to the living.

Masaru flinches to run, but Valerie digs in her right foot behind her.

“Wh-what are you do-”

“I’ll buy you as much time as I can,“ she interrupts as she lifts up her aim.

Masaru’s not usually the type to let a pretty girl down, so he struggles at his feet for a moment.

“Don’t make me waste my life and you end up leaning nothing,” she says, her muscles tensing to steady her shot.

He could whip around and tell her that they already learned about the existence of the town thanks to him, but he keeps his mouth shut and decides to just do as his team mate says. It feels wrong to leave her in peril, but on the flip side he understands that they’re playing a special kind of game.

Their top priority should be to learn the rules, not to keep bashing their heads against the wall.

With a nod, Masaru bolts down the hill.

“Give ‘em hell!” he shouts as his dashing turns into bounding into the soft soil below his loafers.

The Knight bites its stirrups into its steed, and this time the horse is really moving. There’s no ceremonial lineup, the “slight glide” to its right is replaced with a slick, abrupt batter’s pitch.

Valerie gets a rushed shot off before she’s utterly disrespected by the wide slap of the lance, the hysterical force of the weapon departing her from most of her head in a single, perfectly placed swing.

Masaru glances behind himself in shock— that was super fast.

His breathing becomes uneven as he makes it to the halfway point of the town, The Knight riding up right behind him.

The next thing he sees is a storm cloud of black zoom over him, only to land and block his approach with a bloodied lance at the ready.

Masaru stops cold, waiting for his moment to react.

“Try me,” Masaru scoffs. “I won’t let her sacrifice go to wa-”

“Dost thou fancy me a knave?” The Knight booms out.

The dimmed rays of the sun give the faintest dramatic lighting as the stars take full ownership of the sky.

Masaru stands stupefied at The Knight’s words for a moment.

Is this guy trying to lecture me?! he thinks to himself with an aghast expression plastered to his face.

It takes him a moment to remember how such old Japanese worked, but he gets the gist of it.

“What? What do you mean?” Masaru asks.

There’s a pause, and a sigh can be heard from The Knight. “You had left your maiden to die as you ran to the safety of the town.”

Masaru scoffs. “Don’t you mean to say yonder hamlet?” he asks in a mocking tone. “Valerie’s just fine. She’s the shooter, so as much as I hate it, she made sense when she told me to run.”

“That is unchivalrous of you,” The Knight explains, its horse stamping its foot angrily in Masaru’s direction. “Not only do you delay to ride to me, but you also have your lady battle alone in your stead.”

Masaru places his hands on his hips with a sneer. “She told me to. We’re a team.”

“That is a poor excuse for not challenging me directly. Life must be played by certain rules, and duels must be fought by acceptable standards.”

“Uh, no,” Masaru says.

The Knight waits a moment before responding.

“No?”

“Yeah. I’m playing this my way. You think I’m just going to fight you a million times and not figure you out? I already know your patterns,” he says with a respectless gaze as he draws back saliva into his mouth.

The Knight, its tone clearly irritated, looses a long sigh. “These ‘patterns’ are not guarantees, but a reminder that certain things must be adhered to. It is vital to understand that in all matters of importance we conduct ourselves with dignity and-”

The salaryman spits at The Knight, hitting its left-side boot. “Yeah? Adhere to that!”

The two of them pause. Even the horse glances aside in a moment of second-hand embarrassment.

Masaru clears his throat. “So what… are you going to let me pass, or do you want me to get your other shoe?”

The Knight bows its head to look at its boot before looking back to Masaru.

“You will pass.”

Masaru grins. “Good. Now once I figure out how to beat you and your stupid pattern I’ll come back and we ca-”

The Knight drives its stirrups into its steed, causing it to leap into the air, and onto Masaru.

The dense crack of a dozen breaking bones fills his body, a truly unforgettable sound.

Masaru struggles helplessly as the steed, without any direction from The Knight drives a mighty hoof into his skull.

It’s brilliantly fast, exceptionally painful, and decisively fatal. The "drowning" lasts less than a second.