The barricade was ripped apart, some of it sent to cinder, it even sent pieces of wood flying around at high speeds like shrapnel. This brought more harm, to both sides, and Soter couldn’t care less. The grunts of those suddenly injured cluttered the chaotic soup that was the air, gripping the smokey scene. The whole castle shook, the walls that surrounded the door began to collapse.
The wood that survived was alight, catching all other things on fire like a disease. Those unfortunate enough to have helmed the pack laid dead upon their floor or even outside if they were blown away, their bodies alive with the energy of the attack still coursing through their veins. Smoke bellowed off of their melted armour, heat like a raging sun emitted from them. But the smell of burnt away flesh was more than enough to cause a deterrence, truly enough to strike the strongest with sickness.
Through the smoke and fire from the blast, those that survived, hungry to avenge their brethren. Adil and Raphael charged alongside any ablebodied man available, taking on the Loyal Knights headstrong. But from a small gap between the left shoulder and the right shoulder of two Loyal Knights came an arrow, looking for blood.
The arrow found the young leader’s right leg, going clean in and out. He dropped onto the floor, his leg being swept from under him. He gripped his teeth, his face becoming an rough grimace. His purple eyes stared straight down at the injury, seeing the arrow charter its path through his leg. Blood drained out from the young leader, his leg like a pipe with a leak.
It created a small puddle beneath him, being to the floor yet another unwashable stain. Drops of sweat poured out from his head, his hands tightly clenched as he dealt with this newfound pain. He couldn't find any remedy, it was something he simply could not get acquainted with, something that pushed him miles outside his comfort zone.
He had to shake it off, he knew he had to push passed it. He looked forward, seeing even injured men getting back to the battle and fighting off the Loyal Knights. Dizzy and weakened, Raphael planted both of his hands on the floor and began to pick himself up. He had the will, the determination, the strength to rise... He wasn’t going to give up.
The entrance room turned into an utter scene straight out from a nightmare, turmoil and strife consuming the room. Everyone just a step from each other, barely any elbow space. The nurses who tended to the wound were the first to go, unable to defend themselves from the touch of steel. Rada defended her fellow nurses with her body, taking a furious stab straight through the chest.
The old nurse's blood abandoned her, standing there with a breathless expression. Dripping down upon the floor, its imagery never to be washed away. "NO!" Raphael shouted off the top of his lungs, quickly jumping to his feet. A Loyal Knight then charged at Raphael just as the young leader stood up to his feet, the Solasúian's hand clenching a sword and ready to go in for the kill.
The Loyal Knight went in, swinging his blade down upon Raphael. Raphael guarded against it, and the Loyal Knight would go in for a multitude of strikes, each would result in the same reply from Raphael. The young leader unable to apply much weight on his right leg, otherwise it was cause a great deal of pain and give out on him.
Raphael appeared off-balanced, his swordplay completely off. The silver-haired young man simply couldn't get a grip, trying his best just to defend himself. That was then that the Loyal Knight did sense something, his Solasúian sense murmured death was in his future. But that's when he felt it, a blade pierce him from behind, going right through his armour.
From behind the attacking knight, Soter, his hand upon the blade that entered and exited the knight's body. With a swift boot to the knight's back, Soter tore his blade out. With that kick, the knight's bleeding body collapsed, painting the floor with more death. Soter then heard the sound of rushing footsteps from his right, turning his green gaze in that direction.
He pulled his blade up quickly, knowing a strong force came this way. Two swords collide, both up high. Two weak edges shaking, two men trading perhaps the last glances that they'll ever give upon this hell called life. Green met sky blue, Soter's stern face upon the withdrawn face of the scar-faced general.
Behind Gallows, extra men that the Resistance didn't count on seeing. At least over a dozen extra, all ready for the incoming fight. As the clashing of steel, a fierce battle growing even stronger, ringing out all around them. The two were about to engage in a deathly waltz themselves, locking horns. In the midst of the sounds, the screams, grunts, and blood being spilt, they collided in a flurry of strikes.
Gallows stepped off to his right, Soter pulling down his sword to prepare. Soter stepped forward, swinging his blade from his upper left to his lower right. Gallows guarded against this attack with the strong edge of his sword, Soter's sword stopped in its track. While in the instance of guarding, Gallows stepped off to Soter's left. He was outside of Soter's attack range, he was wide open.
The scar-faced general struck in an instant, swinging his sword across Soter's left arm. The slash severed Soter's left arm clean off, sending it flying and becoming among the long list of other lost limbs upon this night. After this strike, those familiar magical embers began to ooze out from his severed arm, floating up into the air and then turning into nothingness.
Afterwards, Gallows began to feel a tightness around his chest, a sudden sense of alert. With all of his might, the scar-faced general then launched his right foot forward. He kicked the side of Soter's abdomen, sending the titan zooming across the room. Gallows then turned to his left, seeing a soldier dashing towards him at full speed.
Gallows stepped forward, readying his sword for the attack. He swung his blade down at the soldier coming his way, aiming for a direct hit. The aggressive, almost savage looking swing hit the soldier exactly where Gallows wanted him to get hit. But the blade just phased right through the soldier, because that warrior had begun to fade into black mist and into thin air.
The distracted general then felt pain be inflicted upon the far lower left of his back. causing him to fasten his teeth. From behind, the young leader with his sword in the general's back. It was quite the charge, his step faltering due to the arrow in his leg. Though, because Raphael was in a rush to get the blow in before Gallows attacked the clone, his attack was far less effective and well-placed as he'd like it.
The lunge he made was just a bad flesh wound, missing all of Gallows' internal organs. Gallows swung around, attempting to hit Raphael's head with the pommel of his blade. Seeing this coming, Raphael pulled his sword out from the general and proceeded to duck low. The moment Raphael was low, the young leader swept his left leg down across Gallows' feet.
Instead, Gallows launched his right knee up, smacking Raphael right in the face with the top of his knee. The general's steel plated knee was incredibly painful, smashing into Raphael's forehead. The young leader's head flung backwards, and it held with it enough speed to send his entire body downwards.
Raphael dropped onto the floor hard on his back, clenching onto the sight of the injury. The blow busted open a large cut in the young leader's head, dyeing his face and clenched hand red. He groaned, being brought to suffer at the hands of the scar-faced general. His consciousness barely holding on after the intense burst of energy ran down his body, after the blow stuck like being slammed by a heavy hammer.
Gallows stared down at the agonized Raphael, readying his sword for the kill. That was when a familiar veil consumed the room, a foggy vessel that acted as though it were the air. Outside of the castle, Shinon had unleashed a barrage of arrows, hitting a variety of targets, inflicting both minor injures to death sentences. Though, he was not too please with his performance, all of them should have been fatal wounds.
And then this smoke appeared, rendering his archery useless. He sighed, putting away his bow, inclined to use his sister's sword. "How lame," the red-headed archer growled angrily, he then rushed into the fray, sword in hand. Down the western wing of the castle, the siblings casually strolled to their destination, hearing the ardent, all-consuming battle rage.
But that's when they noticed the fog appear once more, enveloping the entire castle. Balor sighed, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "This is getting quite stale," Balor scoffed, turning behind him where his soldiers would be. "Men, search the premises. Find a boy in a strange garb, dark in color. Once you find him, do not kill him, take him prisoner."
All of the Loyal Knights stood up straight, clenching their left hands into a fist and putting it to the right side of their chests. "Yes, my king!" they received, taking in their orders. They made a rush for the entire castle, looking up and down for the young man in question. This left the siblings to themselves, who were prepared to make their entry into the fight.
Back in the battle, Gallows quickly covered his face in reaction to the mist, shuffling his eyes. At the corner of his eye, he saw a figure charging at him. Its appearance was faint, but it was there. The soldier then appeared out from the fog, ready to fight. Gallows stepped forward, ready to challenge it. Gallows swung his blade horizontal at the soldier, from his right to left, cutting the man in half.
But it dissipated into nothingness, once more catching the general off guard. This process was repeated, Gallows seeing another soldier at the corner of his eye and then proceeded to do the exact same thing. And it ended in the same result, the soldier being cut in front and turning out to not be real, but another of Daevarro's illusions.
The general appeared frustrated, quite angry with the whole turn out. He then regain his composure, letting out a breath and calmly taking his time to assess the situation.
"So, what could cause a man to appear real but not be?"
the general thought to himself.
"Magic, presumably, but who's the sorcerer? Where would the Resistance even have acquired a sorcerer?"
Gallows' Solasúian sense then began picking up on a threat, and because he saw nothing before him, he turned to look behind him. That was when he saw a fireball get hurled at him, penetrating through the fog. Seeing this mass of flame rushing towards him, Gallows rolled out of the way. His sky blue eyes then saw the freight train gunning for him, Soter's fearsome verdant eyes impaling the scar-faced general like spears.
Gallows then stood up to his feet, being left on his knees after his roll. The general darted towards the messenger, the both of them readying their blades once more for the collision. They were just one pair of sound effects among this large cast, of this rule of blood, sweat, and death, just two more blades in this utter forest of swords.
Thanks to Daevarro and Soter both, Raphael still clung to life. He required a wall to help him up to his feet, using the cover of the blackness to his advantage. Planting his right hand up against the wall, he slowly rose to his feet, his other hand clenched his head. His face was almost an entire mask of crimson red, his vision doubling, his stance wobbling like a tower of jelly in an earthquake.
The young leader attempted to gain control of himself, calm his breath to recompose him. He reached his right hand downwards, grabbing onto the arrow that was lodged in and out of his right leg. He snapped the front end of it off, and then pulled his hand behind him and broke the upper portion of the shaft. It was now as though a small, narrow stick had impaled his leg.
Then he appeared from the fog, his crystal-like armour shimmering by the fire beside Raphael. His sapphire blue irises took notice of Raphael, shaking his head. "Tck, tck, tck..." spoke the king, taking a step forward. "Where's your bravado, your valor, your gallant triumph over the "tyrannical madman"?"
"Quiet," Raphael suddenly and very angrily growled, his purple eyes sharply glared. His vision went from normal to a large blur, constantly seeing two Balors shift into one. A horrid ringing in his ear always screeching, Raphael reached for his sword. "Or I'll—..."
"—Oh? Intend on taking up your sword?" Balor questioned, interrupting Raphael. "You've no strength, you can barely manage standing!"
Balor then suddenly appeared in front of Raphael, grabbing onto his enemy's throat and slamming his back against the wall. Raphael was pinned to the wall, getting choked out. "What I cannot fathom is why Divus chose
you,
" he went on. "It's apparent that you cannot protect anything: your home, your meager Resistance, not even yourself. And what is a king without the ability to protect that which they hold so dear?"
Though losing breath as Balor's hand was wrapped around his throat, Raphael could still feel air finding a way in. "There's a difference between me and you, Balor," Raphael stated, drawing Balor's interest. "At least I can protect all that I care about from myself."
Immediately receiving an unwelcoming reception from Balor, the king very swiftly tossed Raphael away. The silver-haired young man hit the ground hard on his left side, feeling the sting of the bloody stone. Balor's merciless eyes glared down at Raphael, tightly clenching his sword. He tried so desperately to fight back the violent, murderous thoughts that raged in his head.
"Come then," the king said. "face your fate with dignity."
Raphael quickly stood to his feet, readying his sword for the fight for his life. His stance spoke his agony, his inability to properly see and prepare for this fight. His back was hunched, his breath weary. His sword held out to his right, Balor stood tall, straight, and positively imposing and noble over his enemy. Their eyes connected, having a war between just the two.
They then dashed at each other at the exact same moment, their weapons held in the opposite hand. Raphael appeared far more aggressive than he usually was, furious by the Imperial Kingdom's invasion and the words Balor had given to him earlier. The king was calm, composed, confident in his abilities. Their blades collided, sounding off into the air. But the noise was gone, lost to the sounds of war.
The two leaders of the armies at war clashed once more, this time was much different, however. There was a sense of desperation, a discouraging feeling that ran down the spines of all upon the losing side. But still, hope filled the hearts of those who fought, even if the situation was futile. The mere prospect of going down in a blaze of glory was enough, to do those proud that no longer walk this world.
Raphael and Balor attacked in the same fashion each and every time, the same speed and way. Raphael swung his sword from his upper left to his lower right, Balor would swing his sword from his upper right to his lower left. Their swords were constantly hitting each other, ringing out in the middle of this absolute strife.
Balor goes for another swing, which Raphael goes to counter. He caught Balor's sword in the crossguard of his sword, stepping forward towards the king. As he moved, he grabbed Balor's arms to restrain his movement, carrying his sword forward as he did. He bashed Balor in the center of his face with the pommel of his sword, half-swording the king.
The king staggered backwards, clenching his face with his left hand. Blood had begun to pour out from the king's face, Raphael had hit the bridge of Balor's face. He grunted at this instance, fastening his teeth, perhaps feeling the sting of a broken nose. Raphael rushed over to Balor as fast as he could, his step a limp due to his injured leg.
His slow pace gave enough time for Balor to recover somewhat, getting over the sharp pain for just a moment. Raphael goes for a downward strike, aiming for the top of Balor's head. The king pulled his blade upwards, catching Raphael before his strike became a high risk. Balor then kicked the leader away, sending him staggering off-balance.
With each forced step he had to take due to Balor's kick, Raphael's face tightened up. But the young leader would not just receive a kick with this assault, forced to take in a parting gift. His whole torso was exposed, opened for a free attack. Balor swung his sword from his upper right to lower left, the very tip of the blade cutting through across Raphael's torso.
It carved a diagonal line across Raphael's trunk, appearing as a mere flesh wound. Once Raphael managed to regather himself, finally regain control over his legs, he grabbed onto the ghastly wound. His blood began to stain his teal-blue tunic, flowing freely and without boundaries. But there was no time to gripe over the injury, Balor was coming in for more.
Balor swung his blade at Raphael, who quickly reacted. He guarded against the attack, Balor's blade sliding into his cross-guard. Raphael then twisted his sword downwards, lunging his sword towards the exposed chainmail between Balor's right paul*ron to his cuirass. And that to his underarm, Raphael's sword aimed.
The young leader's sword penetrated the chainmail, but just barely. The power and velocity of his attack simply not enough to do any serious damage to the king's armour, causing a deep flesh wound. Balor's face flinched, succumbing to the agony of his new opening. Raphael quickly yanked out his sword as swiftly as he could and prepared for the next attack.
Further into the smoke, Gallows and Soter still continued to do battle. The screams and sounds of clashing had slowly begun to silence, implying that the battle was close to its end. Gallows' blade and Soter's blade began in a fearsome earnest, entering a heated melee. Gallows appeared more injured since he took that flesh wound, having several cuts across his torso, legs, and arms.
Soter as well, those glowing flakes flowing freely out of his wounds. The two stepped towards each other, carrying with them the intent to kill. Their blades strike at each other, Soter's blade sliding down off Gallows' blade. Gallows stepped off to his left, finding himself at Soter's side. Lunging his sword with all of his might, Soter's body was stabbed from his right side.
