Knights Apocalyptica
Chapter 73: Hate Rules All

Garin struggled on the ground, his hands desperately fending off Dame Yuvia while fist after fist slammed past his guard. Each crack of her gauntlet echoed at the harsh crash of steel against steel. Nearby soldiers stumbled around, dazed and trying their best to avoid a clash between Knights. Garin shouted for help as more dents littered his Armor. There couldn't be much more plate left until Yuvia started bashing his life out.

Erec let go.

Dust spewed from underneath his feet as he rushed the distance between them. Each push from the ground using all of his growing Strength to propel him through the air. A second later he crashed into Dame Yuvia and shoved her off his friend; straightening himself as her body tumbled over dirt.

But the Knight protector wasn’t easily stopped, she twisted as she tumbled. Her feet carving grooves in ground as she regained her feet. Unlike the soldiers before, this woman was highly trained. She possessed higher Virtues then any of the regular military men and woman in this centuria were capable of.

A bloodied sword lay near where she came to a stop; Yuvia kicked the blade into her hand. Had she killed with it before?

[Careful—]

Erec yanked the battle axe off his back; the weapon felt unfamiliar, but the grip was all too right. It was a weapon meant for war.

Today, it’d taste blood.

[—Oh, you’ve lost it, huh?]

Yuvia flashed through the space, her speed on another level from anything she’d shown off before on the road. But compared to Dame Robin, the woman paled.

That didn’t make it easy since her Agility quickly had to have outpaced his own.

Yet, she didn’t outspeed the processor. In a split second, Erec saw a blur, a predicted vision of where the point of her weapon was going. It wasn’t much, but enough to tell him that Yuvia’s charge wasn’t aimed at him. She intended to spear Garin with her speed and momentum. Such a strike would pierce right through his defenses and land a lethal blow.

Erec didn’t have time to think. Luckily, the fire inside meant he didn’t have to.

His body twisted, smashing his steel boot into his recovering friend and sending him rolling away. Almost instantly after, Yuvia’s blade skidded across the airborne leg, sparks flying from the awkward contact point as it scored a mark in his Armor.

Without a thought, Erec carried the momentum of his spin, screaming as an arc of blood splashed out from the cut in his leg. Using the force of his twisting body to power the arc of his battle axe.

[Going too far.]

Yuvia’s body jerked like a puppet. Even with all of her Agility, it wasn’t a quick enough reaction to stop the edge of his axe from cleaving into her side. Metal crunched, and the woman flew from the hit. Her body crashed across the ground for a second time.

Blood drenched her side as she climbed to her feet. Impossible to say how deep the blow went or what the limits of her Vigor were. But there wasn’t an ounce of self-preservation in her.

Good. Let them fight to the death.

With every move, the Silent ones aimed at causing the maximum amount of suffering to humanity.

They could burn in hell.

Erec laughed as he tested his wounded leg—still fine. Fine enough for this fight. Yuvia began to move, giving him another half-a-second blur as the processor analyzed her intended route. Enough to drive his body to react, he pushed forward as the fire burned inside, his muscles screaming as his axe clanged against her sword and stopped it from going into his neck. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the ɴovᴇlꜰirᴇ.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

With another slam, her blade danced along the edge of his axe.

She stabbed, again and again, a thousand pinprick needles testing his guard. To each blow, he slammed the pathetic attacks aside. They twisted against one another as the song of the battle rang out in Erec’s soul; a chorus of blood as phantoms of her movements danced, and he responded.

There could only be one outcome.

His axe met her hand and dug into the wrist; her pathetic sword dropped to the ground.

Perfect.

Erec tackled her—turning the fight into a wrestling match. This lack of range meant his battle axe was useless, but it also rendered her annoying speed irrelevant. Besides, he didn’t need the axe. His hands were plenty enough. He’d rend apart this puny slave to the White Stag.

She squirmed beneath him. Too weak to resist his Strength, yet the blasphemous Stag radiated out from her. The fingers of her good hand dug into his greaves, trying to claw past the steel with raw Strength her body didn’t have.

Good. Erec’s knuckles smashed into her helmet again and again, denting deeper. Breaking the metal apart. Just like she’d done to Garin. Let the Stag taste humiliation; let it suffer as much as it’d made—

[Pulling the ripcord! Calm down!]

Erec’s body shook as sedatives flooded in. The metallic taste of blood overpowered his mouth; at some point, he’d bitten his lip. With a shaking wrist, he slammed his gauntlet into the twisted metal beneath him again. This fight needed to end—

A cold fire burned inside.

He fought against it, hand shaking as he raised a fist for another blow. One more. That’s all. Let the inferno burn away his problems.

A malestrom of flame warred inside. His anger raged, but he couldn’t stand back against the control. Erec’s fist dropped, and a moment later, he slumped away from the lump of twisted metal that was Dame Yuvia. His hands shook as horror flowed through him. All of his fears came to fruition—the nightmares of turning on an ally—despite her being a minion of the White Stag…

What had it all been for?

Why had he tortured himself with that ritual when it was meant to prevent this very thing?

Dimly he heard Olivia bark orders to the nearby soldiers to strip the Knight Protector of her Armor and bind her as she took stock of the situation. From the quiver in her voice, she wasn’t sure that Yuvia was even alive anymore.

Erec sunk to his knees, feeling Garin’s palm on his shoulder as his friend sprawled next to him.

Today hate had ruled.

— - ☢ - — - ☼ - — - ☢ - —

“You put the Knight Protector into a coma?” Boldwick’s baffled voice rang out over the static polluted long-range communicator.

Erec hung his head on the table. The rest of the remaining Knights gathered nearby—the most senior among them a single Knight Errant out of the three. The White Stag possessed one of the other two. They’d been killed by the other Knight, who suffered grievous wounds to get the job done.

And, of course, the Knight Protector was now comatose and under the heavy binding to ensure that if she woke up, she wouldn’t simply start slaughtering humans again.

It’d been difficult, and although he felt numb, Erec pulled himself together and worked with his friends to pull the camp together and put the fires out.

At least he hadn’t ended up killing Dame Yuvia. Though, many had no choice but to kill their fellow soldiers.

Erec numbly pulled up the blinking in the corner of his vision as static came from the communicator. In the last few hours of hell, he’d prioritized helping everyone around him. Most of the leadership in the centuria were slaughtered during the fighting. All the soldiers now looked to underqualified Knights to take charge and drag them to safety.

Cognition Advancement: Rank E - Tier 3 → Rank E - Tier 4

Psyche Advancement: Rank E - Tier 1 → Rank E - Tier 2

That was… Good. But his Strength was out speeding what his Psyche growth was capable of. Fury only grew more intense.

How long until he flew off that cliff?

“I’m impressed.” Boldwick’s voice cut through the silence. “Dame Yuvia was known for high combat marks. Though, I suppose she didn’t use her Divine Talent. From the reports, none of those taken by the stag were capable of more than raw physical attacks. Still, impressive.”

“Thanks,” Erec shook his head and pulled himself up a little. Hearing Boldwick’s voice on the other end did a lot to drag him from his mental rut.

It wasn’t a place he could afford to be right now.

With a host of possessed prisoners eager to slaughter on their hands, he needed to keep himself steady for the people looking up to the Knights.

“The way I see this now is our scouting parties have failed their duties and were attacked by the enemy. Part of our Army felt the effects of that ‘possession’ pulse. Though, it seems to affect the less seasoned soldiers primarily. I’ll make this simple. You have a new objective. Your squad is to lead your centuria back to the main Army. Bring the restrained possessed with you, and avoid any further conflict,” Boldwick’s smooth tone carried over. It was calming and intentionally nonplussed.

But it was a lie. Each word held a little strain, even if he disguised it well. Boldwick was afraid and desperate to find a solution. All the while, the White Stag that showed itself capable of turning humankind against one another was nowhere to be found. Terrifying.

“Understood,” Erec said, not wanting to draw attention to the strain he picked up in the orders.

“And just how are we supposed to do that? We’re all alone out here—“ Knight Jefferson, the sole combat-capable Knight Errant, spoke out.

“By gritting your teeth and doing the job that needs to be done,” Boldwick said. “Scout, patrol, be careful, and keep in contact.”

“Bullshit, you didn’t tell us the enemy could turn our own against us—I ran my sword through five different people—“

“Aye, I’ve also heard reports from men who had to put down their childhood friends when they lost control and started slaughtering other soldiers. Do you think you’re alone in this, Jefferson? Do your job.”

“Fuck you.” Jefferson shook his head and left the tent

Erec exchanged a look with his friends. They’d all been shaken, to be sure, but none of them were quite as far gone as the Knight Errant. Perhaps it’d been because he was the one to find the two others of his rank bleeding out after their fight to the death, or maybe the killing got to him.

Unlike Erec, he hadn’t made the call to try to spare the possessed. Panic and fear hastened him to what he’d done, and no doubt he’d questioned his choices a hundred times already.

Not that sparing them was necessarily the right call, to begin with. Goddess only knew if they could be saved or if it’d spell the death of this centuria.

Whether possessed or not, the White Stag had left a mark on all it’d touched.

“He’s not going to be able to do it.” Boldwick’s voice cut through the silence again. “You need to pull it together and get everyone to safety.”

“I’m not very good at that either; I don’t think I can do it,” Erec said, looking over to Olivia. She’d led the soldiers during the fighting while he struggled to keep himself together, only to, in the end, lose it.

“Doubting yourself? Listen, no one starts as a great leader. The fact you made the call to spare as many as you could tells me what I want to know. You care about these people, so get them back safely. We’ll figure out the next steps from there. But don’t think you have to rely on just yourself—you have the rest of the initiates with you. Work together because Jefferson’s likely to find a nice hole and convince everybody to crawl into it until the White Stag comes and tracks you down.”

“…Right…” Erec shook his head.

“Best of luck.”

The radio crackled and went quiet as his mentor’s voice cut off. Leaving him and his three friends in silence.

Outside of their tent was half a centuria. The men were bloodied, scared, and far away from the giant steel walls that had promised them safety for years. Erec’s knuckles went white as he clenched his fist.

They’d have to fight their way back to the army.

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