Chapter 8 - They who continued to not know

Cestela led the eight knights into the forest entering approximately five minutes after Solyon’s charge. The only reprise in the situation was that she didn’t need to puppet anyone to follow her. She had expected at least two to ignore her words.

“Who’s the highest rank?!” she yelled over her shoulder.

“I am, Pup-ma’am! Captain Faible. With us are First Lieutenant Rachir and Chaud. Everyone else are second lieutenants, but seasoned.”

Cestela examined her compatriots. It was difficult with the helmet and visor she now wore. She didn’t typically wear it as it was only standard for knights who fought up close with the Stéle. However, she almost died. If that simple piece of rock had struck her in the eye, in her mouth, or pierced her brain, she was not confident she could save herself in time. So she grabbed one of the many spares from a squire and donned it despite her discomfort. She didn’t like the idea of increasing her blind spots, but she had no choice.

“Good. Captain, you’re going to take lead. Follow the trail of the others! I’m going to find the origin of the flare.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

She broke from them.

-“What?” “Oh god.” “No way…”

Their surprise was expected. Even if they fought with the Puppeteer before, this was the first time they fought with her in the forest. Even for Cestela, it was a first but she figured it was possible. She had sent her threads into the treetops and began swinging from tree to tree at a speed faster than any other knight was capable of.

The flare bared true West from the Stéle. Cestela was concerned that they were endangered. Scouts were lightly armed compared to the knights in order to allow quick movement and escape but the danger flare was still used. With no ability to discern the true intent of the flare, she would need to hear it from word of mouth. She swung from branch to branch increasing her momentum to cover as much ground as possible.

But she would not hear it from his mouth.

She found the scout. Or, better said, a statue of the scout. His face stone cold in a literal sense. There was nothing Cestela could undo. She had no time to offer for a prayer, nor did she consider prayer was useful. Instead, she quickly fished for his dog tag.

“First Lieutenant Bernard.” Cestela wrote his name on her heart.

As Cestela stood up, she identified an unusual tear in the statue’s abdomen. The cladded leather and cloth had a perfect hole. The statue itself was missing a portion underneath as well. It was too clean for a giant-class Stéle nor did the surroundings support a fragment from another boulder attack. Perhaps, the flare wasn’t to alert others about the evolution of the giant-class Stéle…

“Damn it all.” Cestela launched herself to a treetop for a vantage point. The Stéle’s height made them easy to spot. Four total. Three were hunched over likely fighting with the knights on the ground. The fourth was smallest in stature being further from her and was throwing another boulder. She watched as the boulder soared towards the original rendezvous position and destroyed one of the wagons. She was worried about the supporters, but the medics would have to sustain any injuries. Cestela had triaged that the worst casualties were yet to start on the front lines.

“Arachnids!”

Unfortunately, Cestela couldn’t be the first to inform them despite her rushing. The knights were ambushed by the insect shaped Stéle who were hiding in the treetops.

“Ah, screw this!” Cestela threw off the helmet. The thick woods made identifying the location of screaming and yelling difficult. The extra level of narrow field of view and muffled sound behind the sheet metal headwear just made her additionally frustrated. Finally, she found a knight as they cleanly cut down one of the legs of the giant felling it to the ground. “Behind you!”

Perhaps, the knight was unaware of the looming predators but they had relaxed their body after striking. An arachnid-class Stéle jumped at them from behind them. Luckily, Cestela casted her threads to the knight commanding control and quickly swung their body ready to deflect the sharp front legs of the hidden Stéle.

“What?!” yelled the knight. Cestela noticed that they were gathering mana once more in their sword. She released her control and the knight seized the opportunity to split the Stéle in half. Afterwards, Cestela landed next to them and the knight turned to her. “Ms. Vielle?”

“Lieutenant Garde? Good. The flare was a signal of a mixed attack.”

“We need to inform the others!”

“Where are the others?”

“I sent them to the other giant-class Stéle.”

“Damn!” Cestela immediately considered the eight that entered late. With the vanguard splitting, she was worried about what action they took. Not to mention, she silently judged the decision for the impromptu leader to separate himself from his flock. However, arguments would only hurt the current situation.

“Major! Can you throw me?”

“What?” It was an absurd idea, but it was worth the thought. “… It will probably hurt like hell.”

“That’s fine.”

“Alright, but the landing is all you.” She coiled her threads around his waist and positioned herself high in the treetops. With the amount of mana she had, Solyon felt weightless and so, with a single twirl of her finger, Cestela easily threw Solyon into the air above the foliage towards the next giant-class Stéle. Solyon, once more, collected mana into his sword and struck the enemy center of its chest. While he wasn’t strong enough to them cleanly in half, the transfer of momentum was enough to throw them stumbling backwards. “Wonder if he’s alive…” Cestela jumped down building her own momentum and launched herself once more through the forest.

The Puppeteer tried her damn best to follow the screams and finally found the original eight that had followed her. One laid on the ground motionless no longer of flesh. Another was gripping their upper arm tight to prevent losing too much blood from cutting off their own arm. They were surrounded by insect perpetrators.

Arachnid-class Stéle were similar to the wolf-class in terms of their intelligence. The major exception was that the wolf-class were capable of attacking in unison with each other likely to cover for their weaker individual abilities. Arachnid-class did not show signs of coordinating attacks but individually, they were vicious. Their sharp legs and acute precision targeted the same spot relentlessly until the armor gave out. For most, continuously channeling mana into one’s armor was tiring and left them unable to use mana for a counter attack.

As she landed, Cestela quickly attached to the injured knight and began healing. “Wake up and pair up!” she barked. It was common practice to have one tanking the attacks while another strikes back against the arachnid-class. “Before I make you!”

The latter comment spurred the knights to recollect themselves. While healing, Cestela could not efficiently take control of others, but they didn’t know that. And so, the fight continued.