Year 2: The Battle of Rhodes - Chapter 11

For months, Kayleigh had trained for this day - the day she’d come face to face with one of the Demon Emperor’s generals.

Their fists collided and shockwaves ruptured, shattering walls and glass, breaking the ground around them, threatening to collapse the entire building down around them. Lightning sparked from her Divine Artifact to the sound of roaring thunder.

Fenrir smiled as her fur singed a little.

Kayleigh bitterly glowered back, pain radiating along her arms, down to her bones and along her nerves.

Fenrir swung for another punch and Kayleigh answered in kind.

The outer wall finally collapsed and the ceiling began to shake and cave in on itself, but both women remained standing before each other, their fists connected, locked in each other’s eyes.

Last time, I couldn’t even see her. Now! Kayleigh’s gauntlets surged with electrical energy. I can at least sense where she’s going.

“Not bad.” Fenrir’s grin widened. “But!” She wound her right arm back again, bloodlust radiating from her body. “What about this?!”

Kayleigh clicked her tongue and raised both arms before her to block.

The punch was far more powerful than anything else Kayleigh had experienced in Aangapea, sending her flying through the air and out of the collapsed far wall, just as the building began to crumble.

The barracks had once been home to hundreds of soldiers, but most had died fighting long before Kayleigh and Fenrir’s battle reached the building or were still fighting to their last in the palace.

Kayleigh rolled across the dirt, gaining even more bruises and cuts, but she landed in a kneeling position. She chose to stay low to the ground, like a cat ready to pounce, her fists ready and waiting for Fenrir, as the wolf girl ran full sprint towards her.

Faster than a bullet, louder than an explosion, more terrifying than anything Kayleigh had ever seen in her worst nightmares.

This is…the might second only to the Demon Emperor. Kayleigh, despite her worried and injured exterior, remained largely calm inside, carefully watching and analysing everything she could about her opponent. Fenrir’s strength is insane, but she doesn’t use any real techniques. She just throws her punches and kicks with enough speed and force to render any fighting styles used against her irrelevant.

“It’s worth a shot, though.”

Kayleigh jumped up to meet Fenrir’s momentum, but then sidestepped the wolf’s drop kick. She tried to wrap an arm around Fenrir’s legs, but Fenrir spun her body around midair and threw a kick at Kayleigh’s face. Kayleigh ducked beneath it, then rose quickly back up and chucked her closed left fist at Fenrir’s chest. The wolf girl brought the leg that had flown over Kayleigh’s head down, stunning the hero and then used her ankle to kick Kayleigh beneath her.

With the hero’s footing disturbed and her head disorientated, Fenrir kicked off Kayleigh’s back hard, landed on all fours, then jumped at Kayleigh’s back, driving a fist into her spine. Kayleigh hissed in pain as she felt the impact blow through her armour and radiate against her spine, as she tumbled onto the floor.

Fenrir leapt high into the air to drop kick Kayleigh, but Kayleigh rolled out of the way of the impact. Fenrir’s attack left a sizeable crater behind, making Kayleigh even more thankful that she’d managed to dodge the attack.

Fenrir closed the gap again and threw three punches, but Kayleigh bobbed and weaved out of the way, then threw a backfist at Fenrir’s face. The hit landed, startling the wolf, but it didn’t do more than that. Kayleigh then took on a boxer-type stance and threw repeated punches at Fenrir, keeping the wolf girl on the retreat, or so the hero thought.

Fenrir caught one of the punches, pulled Kayleigh in close, then headbutted her, hard enough to leave cracks in Kayleigh’s helmet and to draw blood from her forehead. Kayleigh, however, pushed through the pain and thrust her other fist, charged with lightning magic, into Fenrir’s chest, exploding with great force.

Now, it was Fenrir’s time to be launched into the distance.

Kayleigh took a sharp breath, grateful to have even a few moments to catch her breath, before Fenrir came charging back over; the fur on Fenrir’s chest had burnt slightly and there were some bruises.

Fenrir dodged Kayleigh’s fist by sliding beneath it, then jumped up and headbutted the hero again; this time, her skull collided with Kayleigh’s chin and the hero was knocked several metres backwards. Fenrir then swept her leg to take out Kayleigh’s legs, then palm punched her in the face.

Kayleigh rolled for dozens of metres across the ground, before hitting the outer walls of the palace and coming to a complete stop, face down on the floor.

She tried to push herself up, but threw up blood and nearly collapsed.

Fenrir, brushing the dirt and grass off her shoulders and fur, slowly walked towards Kayleigh.

“You’ve gotten a lot better,” the wolf praised her. “Honestly, with a few more months or years or training, you might be able to kill me. But.” She crouched beside Kayleigh and then held her head up by the back of her skull. “That would mean you lot had more time. Hmm…I know Master wants us to kill you lot, but maybe he’d let me keep you as a pet. I could raise you to become a good sparring partner, and you’d be treated well. What do you say?”

Kayleigh didn’t hesitate to spit a mouthful of blood into the wolf’s face, then smirked arrogantly at her.

Flatly, Fenrir whispered, “Alright, die then.”

And went to slam Kayleigh’s face into the stone walls.

***

Elysa’s role in the attack was over, though that didn’t stop her from enjoying the spectacle of the Siege of the King’s Palace.

From the tallest tower, she watched on, humming a gentle tune, kicking her legs playfully off the ledge without a care in the world.

There had been soldiers in the tower, but they’d proven no match to her.

Arrows and magical attacks came here and there, but their senders usually round up dead soon afterwards.

Now that it’s come to this, I’m a little nostalgic about everything. The people, the places, the memories we shared…

She shrugged.

“Oh well.”

***

The dorms had proven much easier to defend for Yve, Fala, Trevor and Gabriel.

The Demon Emperor’s forces had followed them inside and still struggled against their numbers.

That is until Brenda, Feng and Blake arrived with Alliance soldiers to reinforce them.

Together, trapping the demons, skeletons and elves from both sides in a pincer movement, they nearly wiped out the lot, but the remaining demons and elves fled through out the windows and side entrances.

“Sister Yve, how are you all?”

“Fine, thanks to you guys, Feng.” She looked at the three helpers, then titled her head slightly. “Where’s Duncan? And Stephanie? And Dao Chen? Are they-?”

“Busy, fighting the Demon Emperor’s ilk somewhere,” Feng said. “Hailey asked us to come and-”

Yve gripped Feng’s shoulders tightly. “Where is she?!”

“At the east gate facing off the Demon-Wait, Yve!”

“Let me go! I-!”

“Elysa betrayed us,” Blake interrupted. “Everyone’s scattered but us and Duncan’s fighting a brainwashed Dame Chelsea. Hailey is not our priority, not until we know you guys are safe and Duncan is.”

“…Dame Chelsea…” Trevor muttered, shocked by the news.

Gabriel clicked his tongue while Fala looked down dejectedly at her two cats which clung to her legs, terrified by the night of fighting.

“…Do we know what the situation is outside?” Gabriel asked.

“Other than the battle’s still going,” Brenda answered. “Let’s head back and regroup with Duncan, see who else we can find along the way before going back to the east gate.”

“Right!”

***

Dame Chelsea had taught Duncan the basics of everything he knew about fighting.

Her core skills were his, even after King Alexander had taken over as their instructor.

But her fighting style had changed in the near-year it’d been since Duncan had seen her last.

She was vicious, rough and not afraid to throw her own safety away if it meant defeating her opponent.

Her sword had been broken, yet she still fought with a dagger.

She had drawn in multiple times and pushed Duncan back, aiming to take the fallen Prince Julius’s sword, but hadn’t found the right time to lunge for it.

She’s got to be getting exhausted at this point, right? Duncan thought, trying to keep his breathing hidden from his opponent. If it comes to a battle of attrition, I might lose.

Dame Chelsea came in again, thrusting her dagger at his neck. Duncan dodged it, then blocked her follow-up thrust and chop with his Divine Artifact. He swung at her, but she ducked beneath it before trying to drive the dagger into his knee. Duncan jumped above it and slashed downwards with his great sword at her.

Chelsea spun around it and drove her dagger into the back of his shin, but the blade couldn’t pierce the armour and it had missed the gaps between the joints. She cut in between the largest of the gaps, eliciting a small grunt of pain from Duncan as blood began to trickle from the wound. Duncan spun around with a wide sweep using his sword, but Chelsea rolled between his legs, then made a run for Prince Julius’s sword.

He panicked and activated Raidho to close the gap, but that had played into her hands.

Chelsea came to an abrupt stop and stabbed at his eye.

Duncan saw it in time and moved his head, then grabbed her chest and threw her behind him, further away from the prince’s blade again. Chelsea landed on her hands and feet, took back up her dagger and charged again, switching from stabs to slashes.

Each skimmed across the armour as Duncan moved to block with Angurvadal, and she couldn’t land a solid hit.

Then, she kicked his knee, but it did no damage, before she kicked his hand that was holding the bottom of Angurvadal. Again, it did little before Duncan grabbed her foot and tackled her to the floor, placing himself firmly above her, pinning her arms to her chest.

“Dammit!”

“Chelsea, please!” Duncan ground his teeth together as the Awoken struggled in his grip. “Don’t make me do this! I know you! The real you! I know you’re still in there, somewhere, and you want to fight this! Please, just tell me…show me…you’re still in there and tell me how to save you!”

She headbutted him, but hurt herself more; Chelsea glared at him viciously.

“You still don’t understand, Duncan.” She was beginning to pant as she tired herself out. “This is who I am.”

“No, you’re not!”

“But I am. I’m the Chelsea who has awoken to the truth of this world and that wants nothing more than for you to fight alongside me with our rightly lord.”

“Shut up.”

“Duncan.” Her tone became sickly sweet. “You know I’m-”

“Shut up!” It took all he had to prevent himself from crying, as holding Chelsea in a vice-like grip was all he could do. “…You…you can’t be…gone.”

“I’m not, silly.”

“I promised…I’d…I’d save you.”

She laughed, just like the way she used to. “I don’t need saving, Duncan.”

There has to be a way, right?

A way to-

Chelsea suddenly struggled harder than before, just enough to slip free from Duncan’s grasp.

She ran away from him and took up Prince Julius’s sword.

Duncan slowly rose to meet her blade.

And then-