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Chapter Text

Ten years. That's how long the forces of Zenoira took to control all of Fevrith. Humans, Elves, Bestrals, and Angles alike all fell victim to these invaders.

Though resistances were created against Zenoiran forces, they fell one after another, without any change to the invasions.

However, the tides of war were about to turn—a Hero, from the stars themselves, would descend on Zenoirian lands.

In the continent of Elheim, home of the elves and dark elves, Rosalinde, a dark elf, knelt in prayer under the shade of a tree. The night breeze gently swayed her long aqua hair and cooled her face and body. There, she gave her gratitude and prayers of thanks to the great tree Ervélda and asked for those in Elheim who continued to fight in hopes of driving Zenoira off their land. Rosalinde did this every morning and every evening.

Ever since the day the tides had turned in Elheim—and her sister Eltolinde the ruling Turenós of the kingdom was forced to surrender to the Zenoiran invaders, Rosalinde had gone into hiding, gathering all those that remained who stood against the Zenoira regime, hoping to both reclaim her beloved Kingdom's sovereignty and rescue her sister, Eltolinde.

Sighing, Rosalinde opened her eyes; then, with a fluid grace, rose from her kneeling position. Gently brushing her long hair back, she walked out of the thicket, very few Zenoira patrols ever passed the grove where she had been praying.

Stopping in her tracks, she enjoyed the cool and refreshing air. The sound of the leaves and brush around her blew in the winds and she shut her eyes and deeply inhaled, then released a gentle exhale. Just how much more could her people withstand, enduring and persisting through the heavy, oppressive yokes, the painful trials, and suffering? Would they ever be freed to rejoice again?

She hoped so, but something needed to change for their sake...

Opening her eyes once again, her deep red eyes shone with renewed strength and hope, her aqua hair gently swaying with the breezes. Something good would come from their great suffering... She would not give into despair!

Taking a step forward, she suddenly stopped. A blue hue illuminated the trees and brush around her; her pointed ears twitching, she looked around... She couldn't find the origin of this strange phenomenon and it only seemed to get brighter! Then she looked up and her eyes widened in shock and awe at what she beheld...

"T-the stars?!" Her soft, gentle voice was full of wonder as she exclaimed.

A large purplish-blue portal in the sky above opened and grew larger and larger until it seemed to collapse in itself, and then from its center came a streak of blue light.

"By the great Ervélda!!" her face was full of pure wonder, amazement, and just the slightest hint of fear, as she cried out and took a step backward. The wind howled through the woods around her as this 'fallen star' tore through the sky at an astonishingly quick speed.

Flying overhead and crashing a few miles in front of her with an almighty rumble and thunderous bang. The earth itself seemed to quake from its impact as a dust cloud rolled into the air, rising high above and sending the animals and birds scattering from the area, with loud squawks, shrieks, and squeaks.

Her aqua hair waving in the strong wind, Rosalinde panted a little, her heart racing at such a sight! Running toward her grove, she frantically grabbed her staff, spellbook, and other important belongings. Wasting no time at all, she hastily headed toward the direction she saw the large cloud of debris rise.

Whatever it was that fell from the sky was definitely worth investigating. And no doubt any Zenoiran forces might very well converge toward the area in hopes of securing it and claiming it for their own gain, whatever it might be…

Running quickly, but carefully through the thicket, her dark elf ears flicked and twitched, listening and analyzing the surroundings for anything that would bring harm or a hindrance to her journey.

Soon, her keen ears picked up the sound of wyvern knights flying overhead. For a split second, her heart leaped, and her mind thought they had detected her. Taking cover behind some shrubs and bushes, she waited anxiously... Her hand tightly gripped her staff. If need be she was prepared to put them down swiftly and silently...

Luckily though, the knights continued in the direction where the fallen star struck down. A wave of relief and tension washed over her... Once she was certain the wyvern squad had gone past, she rose and went running, dodging trees and stepping over fallen logs, doing her best to keep a straight course towards the crashed fallen object.

It felt like an eternity had gone by, but finally, Rosalinde reached the edge of a clearing in the forest, standing up on a hill looking upon the destruction of fallen trees and brush scattered below. The scorch marks upon the ground gave no doubt that whatever it was had descended with great speed.

Crouching low, her red eyes stared keenly across the clearing. Zenoiran forces had gotten there already. It wasn't just wyvern squads patrolling the perimeter, but also various personnel searching and combing the ground... Archers, soldiers, hoplites, and the occasional witch and wizard...

The dark elf grimaced a bit, seeing such activity; she might have to relent on investigating the crash site now... But something within her couldn't just ignore what she had seen, her curiosity got the better of her and she simply had to know what that great big blue light that soared through the night sky was!

Crawling up towards the crest of the hill, and gently lying low as she peered over the edge to observe their activities, her keen elvish hearing picked up a few conversations...

"Hurry up!" a rough, mean voice barked "No mistakes! Secure the area! Elheim resistance fighters might show up soon... Elves are damned fast. That last rebel ambush cost me most of my best men!!"

"Yes, Sir!" replied several voices; though the response was hurried, it had a unified solidarity to it.

Screeching squawks and howls filled the area as two wyvern knights forced their mounts to land down beside the crash; the beasts snapped and hissed at each other as their riders climbed off and inspected the sight...

Whatever had fallen had slid into a ravine. It left behind a scar of destruction, burning trees and charred grass, as it carved its path through the ground...

From her vantage point, the elf couldn't make out anything, but she guessed a few Zenoirans were already down in the ravine...

Any attempt to retrieve the crash was now completely impossible... Her stomach turned into knots. Not out of fear or anxiety, but just the simple knowledge that Zenoirans might obtain this crash could result in something terrible, that was something that couldn't be overlooked.

Clenching her teeth, Rosalinde raised her head hoping to catch a glimpse of just what was in that crater. The sound of shouting, more arguing, and commanding tones flooded her pointed ears, making her hunker back down lower and hold her position.

Was she discovered?!

The voices increased their volume, her ears picking up more words now...

"Surrender!" a Zenoiran hoplite called out from within the pit.

"We've got you surrounded! Submit to Zenoira and your life will be spared!"

Cheek pressed into the soft grass, Rosalinde realized the Zenoirans weren't referring to her at all...! She relaxed a bit and risked another peak over the top. So did that mean an entity from the stars crashed and lived? Her dark elf ears flicked, excitement beginning to course through her.

"Identify yourself!" shouted a soldier from the pit again, his demand sounding more frantic...

"This fool thinks we're playing." a rough voice cut in. "Ha ha ha, fine. If he won't tell us, we'll force the answers out of him."

The sound of a blade leaving its sheath caught Rosalinde's attention even more. Anxiety began to build, this wasn't going to be good. Whoever it was they were definitely in danger! Her body seemed to move before she could even think of the ramifications; rising once more, she froze as a thunderous crack broke through the chaos below.

Screams and the sound of steel being drawn rang loudly in Rosalinde's ears, something inside her mind told her to hold, to see if things would take a turn, to wait a bit longer...

More of those loud cracking, popping sounds shot through the commotion, as screams followed suit, making Rosalinde's elvish heart leap! What was going on?! She didn't want to stay hidden for much longer but...

The Zenoirans who'd set up a perimeter surrounding the area also rushed in, readying their weapons and advancing toward the ravine.

And with their actions, more of that unnatural sound rang out; she couldn't explain it... It had to be the unknown entity within that crater causing all these loud bursts to break through the shouting...

"For Zenoira!!!" roared out several voices

"Charge!!! Charge!!"

If this thing was an enemy to Zenoira, then was it possible that it might be considered an ally? Her heart raced; would it be able to help the resistance free Eltolinde and her kingdom?! Was it too much to hope...?

Gripping her staff and rising to her feet, she wasted no time at all running down the slope... Her purple cloak and black cape billowed and flowed behind her as she gracefully dodged and stepped around brush and fallen debris.

At the very least, there was now an opportunity to thin the enemy ranks and investigate the mysterious entity!

Strange shouts, shrieks and screams resounded below, making her blood race within her veins. Nearing two archers who'd stayed back, the dark elf pointed the crystal atop her staff and twirled it around quickly.

"Sylphic Wind!" Rosalinde chanted in a loud tone, quickly casting her wind elemental magic, and conjuring a powerful gust of wind.

"ARGGGH!!" roared both Zenoiran bowmen as the magical wind slammed into both, blowing them into the air!

Rosalinde ran down the rest of the steep incline of the hill and leaped the moment she reached flat terrain, the sound of the two archers’ bodies breaking against rocks and tree limbs far from her mind...

Making it to the opening where the crater was, the elven girl dashed, leaping over branches and various debris.

Shouts and commotion, with screams added to that, rose, echoing louder as she sprinted over some grass and mud, getting closer.

A soldier stood at the edge of the crater back to her, seemingly frozen in place as he stared down. The strange noise never ceased, as cries, roars, and then booming resonated.

Her brows narrowing, her whole demeanor brimming with fierce resolve, planting her feet, she spun her staff around and sliced.

Barely registering her appearance, the soldier began turning. Delivering him a blow straight into the side of his unguarded head! Blood spilled from the gashing wound, and the body instantly crumbled and slid into the hole.

Rushing to the ledge, she gasped, her eyes widening as she beheld a lone figure standing against a mass of Zenoirans.

Large, bulky, armored, and towering over them in height! It was a masculine being. It was wearing bizarre green armor that covered nearly every inch of its body, with a glowing golden visor that covered where the eyes should have been.

In its hands was a sleek but crude-looking weapon... It didn't have a sharp-bladed head; in fact, it looked like a pale attempt at a crossbow...

Its design was strange... But its effectiveness could not be ignored or written off! The moment the armored knight would point his weapon at a target, it would roar that thunderous bang and discharge a shot at the intended victim, felling its adversary on the spot.

Magic?

Another round discharged, the bolt slicing through the air and slamming into an unsuspecting target, going clean through the chest. Another thunderclap resounded, a Zenoiran's head snapping back as a hole opened. Then, another, and another, and another... Bodies piled around the massive armored knight as more enemy reinforcements flooded in.

But that weapon wasn't the only means this mysterious 'Star person' possessed! Swinging out his hand, he effortlessly caught an advancing Zenoiran by the throat, a Hoplite, no less! Lifting the larger armored Zenoiran like he was nothing more than a doll, the knight crushed, silencing the choking pleas, and casually tossed his body aside.

Snapping from her shocked trance, the elven beauty spotted a Zenoiran knight leaping and bringing his sword down upon the 'star person'. Instinctively, her staff moved, and a burst of magic expelled from the end, shooting toward the knight.

Crashing hard into the aggressor's body, the magic sent him off trajectory and into the dirt. Turning the 'star person's' gaze fixed on her.

Worried, her breath caught in her throat, the Star Person brought his weapon toward her!

"WAIT!!! STOP!!" Rosalinde cried out, holding her staff over her chest in defense.

Pulling the trigger, a thunderous bang and flash accompanied his aim.

Barely an inch or so away from where she stood the bolt pierced and shredded through a soldier attempting to charge her, going straight through his skull, and his body jolting from the shock of the hit. His corpse slid into the ground.

Recognition kicked in the elves' brains. His shot wasn't aimed at her at all; rather, it was intended for the Zenoiran attempting to take her down, no doubt returning the favor for her earlier action...

Gazing into his golden visor, her face held a surprise, then softened, and finally, the tiniest hint of a warm smile tugged the corner of her lips,

"T-thank you..." Rosalinde, managed as her cheeks felt like they had gotten a bit warmer. Did this thing even understand her...?

As if to answer her question, the armor-clad knight nodded and returned to attacking his targets, mowing down anyone who got in range or attempted to charge him down.

Feeling confident the 'star person' had her best interest in mind, the elven lass was eager to lend some assistance, striking foes with her sharpened staff and conjuring up wind element magic! Sending enemies flying and scattering about.

She noted how the green knight paused briefly when she cast her spells. However, the hesitation seemed to never delay his attacks.

Delivering a vicious big boot that seemed to cave in a soldier's torso in, sending him and his armor crashing, rolling, and tumbling backward. A bit of vulnerability seemed to finally show on the walking juggernaut's form when a Zenoiran witch launched a magic missile spell, striking the 'star person' right in the chest, making him stagger slightly as a beautiful golden light suddenly encircled him, spreading out over him like ripples on water.

Upon quickly recovering, the 'star person' unleashed a quick draw, putting an abrupt stop to the Zenoiran witch's second spell.

At last, the seemingly endless waves of troops seemed to peter out as the last of the Zenoirans realized trying to bring the behemoth of green and golden glory was a lost cause.

"Retreat!" shouted a wyvern rider, who barely made it out of the clearing as he gave the order.

"R-retreat!" "Tactical withdrawal!!" other Zenoirans hollered in a panicked manner as they turned tail and started running, losing order and fleeing into the woods...

Breathing a small sigh of relief the elven beauty twirled and tucked her staff away, taking in the scene of bodies scattered about, a few moaning, screaming, and grunting in pain. Her aqua hair swayed as her shoulders seemed to slump a bit, war was always such an ugly thing...

Moving up closer to the green knight, Rosalinde stood straight and studied his appearance. What manner of beast was he...?!

The knight held his crossbow high, scanning his surroundings, as his body seemed tense and alert... He was more akin to a tiger or a wolf. Watchful, vigilant, and dangerous, but not malicious, not unless there was a threat or something that would result in harm.

At least that's what she wanted to believe. The strange entity was incredibly strong, powerful, and decisive... This much she couldn't deny.

Gazing to look up at his faceless golden visor, their height difference was almost staggering, her head didn't even reach up to his breastplate. His arm and overall body shape and physique dwarfed hers greatly.

Lowering his weapon a bit, he still kept it at ready and pointed at the ground, turning to stare down at Rosalinde, silent, it was so quiet she thought perhaps her own breathing would be loud to her, not to mention her heart.

Was he assessing her as a threat, wondering if he would have to fire upon her...?

"Identify yourself." A deep, rich, masculine voice broke through their silence.

Relief filled her; he was sentient, a living and breathing individual, and he spoke their language fluently... Perhaps if she spoke carefully, diplomatically they might even reach an agreement!

"My name is Rosalinde." She replied simply, her voice soft but warm, polite, "Augur of the kingdom of Elheim."

Silence filled the air as her heart seemed to tremble slightly with anticipation. It was always hard to read people with a mask or some kind of concealing helmet on; his glowing gold visor gave little away, either.

He? Was that an appropriate assumption...? Rosalinde was quite certain the armored being towering over her was a he, gazed around, and took his surroundings again.

Courage welling, and determination taking hold, Rosalinde's jaw hardened and set as she raised herself to stand tall, no longer in any sort of meek or timid posture.

"Might I inquire about yours?" she said in a clear tone, her voice raised a bit to give some sense of power and control.

He paused for a few heartbeats and seemed to stop looking around. She could almost feel the weight of his unseen gaze on her, not that she was uncomfortable or scared, but it made her wonder what thoughts were churning behind that golden visor.

"Chief..." was his curt response.

"Chief?" She replied softly with a quizzical expression.

Nodding slowly and steadily he repeated,"Master Chief. Spartan."

"Spartan?" Rosalinde replied softly, testing the new term, committing it to memory...

She wasn't sure exactly what a spartan was, and well she didn't understand what a 'master chief' was either, but they didn't seem like names, more like titles.

"I see," she softly replied after a long pause, her eyes still taking him in.

A quiet stillness came over both as they continued to quietly stand and study each other. It wasn't until several long moments of awkward silence passed that the dark elf spoke again.

"I've so many questions for you, Spartan Chief."

"Master Chief." His strong voice echoed out again correcting her.

Rosalinde nodded and smiled, "Yes, that's what I meant..." She trailed off a bit before adding, "But not here; it's far too exposed, and no doubt the Zenoirans will soon return... More heavily armed this time."

She extended an arm out towards the wooded area behind them. "I know a place, east of here near the village of Vilta where we won't be disturbed."

There was no indication that the Spartan, Chief, even noticed her words or motion at first; however, when he moved to step forward, she felt relieved.

Smiling with a kind gaze, she followed and moved up alongside him. Her red eyes took in everything: how he walked, the subtle movements of his arms, his fingers, the way he held the unusual weapon of his...

Her aqua hair gently waved with the light breeze; keeping step with the larger Master Chief, she studied his armaments and armor. His design and appearance made no sense to her; his body shape, strength, and physique also made her mind stir and ponder; surely there wasn't anything of his like walking amongst Fevrith till now...

Their steps crunching through the dead leaves and dirt were the only sounds audible in the vicinity; at least it was a little comforting; the elf couldn't remember the last time she walked in a silent woods and actually enjoyed it.

Her mind buzzed with questions. Questions upon questions. How did he know to speak her tongue...? Was he truly from the stars? If yes, was he a god? If he wasn't a god, was he a mortal? Was he a half-elf? Perhaps some secret order from Ervélda? Or had he somehow been blessed by the gods? Was he alone on Fevrith, or would more come? Would any more come??

Of course, they'd have to reach their sanctuary first before all the answers could be given. So with the wind in their backs, both the elven oracle and the spartan continued through the trees.

A neglected cemetery lay quiet and still. Not a sound, nor was there any sign of activity stirring. It was not the most inviting or favorable meeting place, but when the entire kingdom had been conquered by the Zenoira invasion, hardly any place could be called safe or welcoming.

Leading her spartan guest, Rosalinde glimpsed back to make sure he was following still on their journey from the crash site to her current sanctuary; one thing became abundantly clear. The Master Chief was unwaveringly silent, from his lack of conversation on the trek to his amazingly quiet footsteps... She wondered if he was weary of her. She hoped that wasn't the case. It would make the upcoming discussion all the more awkward and difficult.

"My apologies for bringing you to such a place." Her tone held regret as she knelt before the grave "You must think me most impolite," her gaze focused upon a humble carved headstone... "No proper host would ever bring a guest to a place meant for the dead..." she finished sorrowfully, her delicate hand rubbing at the stone as she gingerly wiped some dried leaves and branches from its engraved letters.

Master Chief walked over slowly and gazed at the grave she kneeled at. There were dozens more scattered throughout the forgotten grounds and hills.

"We have very few places where we can meet safely," she looked up at him with a half-smile "Zenoiran soldiers patrol all the roads... Checkpoints are everywhere; they watch everyone closely, searching homes... I'd rather not invite needless suspicion to any nearby village."

Nodding, Master Chief walked around a bit, examining some more gravestones; some of the graves themselves had become nothing but dirt-filled divots, and others were still visible mounds.

Rising, she patted her knees and brushed off a few pieces of dust and twigs that clung to her bare knees. Moving toward him, her cloak gently flowed in the wind.

"Tell me, Chief. Are you from the stars?" Her question was direct, and her expression one of earnestness, no hint of dishonesty to be found in her countenance.

He looked up at the night sky as the brisk air hit both of them, the light breeze running gently through her hair as she patiently awaited his answer.

Finally, her companion turned, "A question for a question." His voice was hard, like tempered steel, unbending and unmovable, and unyielding.

Those were suitable conditions she could work with, at least he didn't deny her questions but demanded that his curiosity, no, his need for knowledge, would also be appeased.

"Of course," Rosalinde's hand went over her breast in agreement and concession "Only after you have answered mine, however," she stepped closer "That is only fair,"

Chief seemed to regard her for a brief moment and then turned to gaze skyward once again.

"Yes, I am"

His reply, though short and simple, made the dark elf's skin breakout in gooseflesh; a feeling of excitement ran through her...! It was indeed true, Chief had come to her from the heavens above.

"Please," her eyes shining with great eagerness, "Do tell, for Ervélda's sake, please tell! Have you come here from the realm of the gods? Have you come to save Fevrith? Us?" her excitement and eagerness making the flow of questions spew rapidly from her mouth.

A raised hand from Chief put a quick stop to the elf's inquiries, "My turn." Was his answer.

Her cheeks darkened a little out of embarrassment for getting ahead of herself, however her eyes gleamed with both excitement and hope.

"Where am I?" Chief inquired, his deep baritone was all serious.

Rosalinde tilted her head to one side just a bit in an endearing, if a bit cutesy fashion, the tips of her pointed ears, gently bobbed a bit.

"Fevrith. More specifically the kingdom of Elheim." She replied plainly, as though he should have already known this.

The Master Chief looked at the area and nodded slowly, seemingly to be deep in thought.

"Has the great tree Ervélda sent you to me?" Her voice came out a bit eager as her whole disposition brightened in appearance, "Has the divine tree sent you to save the kingdom?" her hand pressed upon her bosom, her eyes glistening with a glimmer of hope, her face brimming and radiating optimism as she smiled with a somewhat dazzling, if innocent radiance, at her celestial guest.

The Master Chief was able to put most of her questions in context. Ervélda. It must be their god of sorts, Chief thought, although, considering he'd never heard any of the names before now, it didn't help him grasp where exactly this world, this Fevrith, fit into any previously known maps.

"No."

Chief's short, clipped tone cut through her starry-eyed expectations, and her hopes were instantly dashed; the color from her cheeks seemed to drain a bit, and her once rosy smile faded slightly. Her ruby-red orbs dimmed a touch as her brow wrinkled a bit.

Was it so much to hope for a guardian coming to help reclaim her sister, her country, and her homeland from Zenoira? The faith and devotion of her ancestors, and their devotion to the great god tree, was still her heart and soul and the core of her being.

"But you did descend from the stars above right, Master Chief?"

He'd let her have this extra question...

"In a way... Yes."

Her spirit didn't falter as the Spartan gave his somewhat vague answer, she seemed satisfied enough that he had come here on some grand quest, that or at least a journey. And given their earlier exchange with the Zenoiran troopers, she wasn't about to fault him for not directly saving Elheim; it was her own overly zealous and exuberant imagination.

Rosalinde quieted a little as she reigned in her eagerness.

"A question of my own, for you," Chief spoke in an inquisitive, almost suspicious manner, his helm never wavering from the elven girl, "Zenoira, who are they?"

Shaking herself from her thoughts and stalling for a bit, trying to collect and compose her thoughts, she began to explain, "Rising from within the old kingdom of Cornia, the Zenoiran Empire conquered all its bordering kingdoms. Elheim, Drakenhold, Albion, and Bastorias."

Moving up a few grave markers and sitting atop one, her staff planted firmly against the dirt, "Their aggressive expansionary agenda has decimated all of our military forces, and there seems to be no limit or restraint to their want for conquest and resources..."

She quieted a little and stared up at the starry night sky...

"All races have suffered greatly under their harsh oppression." Her voice quieted, solemn. "The Zenoiran Empire enslave our people, drain our land, desecrate our holy sites and cites... All in their wicked ambitions of expanding their kingdom, and greed."

Rosalinde shivered involuntarily; it had gotten cooler now; even her breath seemed to fog a bit as she inhaled deeply and sighed softly.

"I had hoped you'd been sent to aid our kingdom when I saw you fall from the heavens and watched as you destroyed our shared foes..." her lips turning upward with a slight smile. "I suppose now it doesn't really matter."

Mulling over the elf's explanation of Zenoira and Fevrith, Chief's voice sounded with authority, "No. It matters."

Quirking her brows upwards, she met his visored look, "You have something in mind, Master Chief?" a feeling of hope rose within and anticipation of what was to come.

Standing tall, the spartan, paused for a brief time, almost as though he were pondering the possible choices presented before him...

"I need to find a way back home," he began. “Would this Zenoira help me?"

Crossing her arms and folding them against her, she considered his query and the outcome of any potential deal with the empire...

"They'd sooner execute you." the statement had such blunt finality to it.

"I figured." Was his quick, simple, almost humorous response as he took another look around the graveyard. "Would you help me?"

Puzzlement rose and played out across Rosalinde's expression. What did she mean to do?! She didn't know any secrets or ways to get back to where her celestial guest hailed. But perhaps someone in all of the empire's captured cities or territories did possess the knowledge Chief was looking for!

"If I was certain that someone had the means for you to return home, then yes." Was her honest answer, tilting her head, her brows furrowed as worry flashed upon her features, "Though it would not be an easy task finding such an individual?"

Nodding as if satisfied with her answer, his next statement shocked the dark elf!

"What do you want me to do?"

Was he...! Her mind whirled in excited chaos as joy and relief rushed over and filled her entire body... He was truly willing to help Elheim, and a grin crept onto her face!

"For you to assist me, and lend a hand in the liberation of my homeland," her confidence surged, as did a newfound purpose! "To defeat Zenoirans, and help the resistance forces rescue our people, my sister, the kingdom from oppression."

Chief looked down at her, her head barely coming up to his chest. A moment of silence filled the air between them, only the cool breezes could be heard whispering among the leaves as he regarded her request.

"Fine," his consent and agreement with her request seemed to fill her up with an insurmountable confidence that she hadn't felt since before her kingdom had fallen!

Grasping Chief's arm, her grip firm and confident, her voice brimmed with spirit and purpose "On this I vow. Together, we shall save the kingdoms and people; I can and will ensure that you can get home, if not immediately, in the future."

Rosalinde released him and went on with an affirmative, hopeful tone "As I've said, Elheim and her allies are gathering strength... In time, we will liberate not only my kingdom but all lands and peoples oppressed by the empire and free ourselves..."

Squaring her shoulders, with her hands pressed against her chest, she gazed at him resolutely, "Let us set forward on our path of liberation; I will guide you as best as I possibly can and be your eyes and ears."

Chief simply gave a single nod to the elf, who couldn't help but giggle and smile a bit with exhilaration. For a moment her heart quivered with uncertainty as she stared up at his featureless helmet... This would certainly not be an easy endeavor; if anything, it would most likely be the most dangerous endeavor she's undertaken so far.

Still, it didn't quell nor diminish the relief she felt from Chief accepting her plea to help her liberate the kingdoms. Now, the real challenge will be finding more resistance forces, and learning if or how to proceed next.

The next few days would certainly be quite busy for both herself and Chief!

'Before this is all over, promise me you'll figure out which one of us is the machine.' Chief stroked the now empty data crystal chip, remembering Cortana's words and giving them serious consideration...

Did she mean to send him to this alien world where some kind of medieval war was taking place, to let him figure things out for himself? Or maybe this was all just the AI's way of joking; either way, there wasn't a whole lot to do, and certainly no Covenant forces or UNSC to face off against...

Turning the data chip between his fingers, a thousand thoughts whirled and spun around his mind. Rosalinde had eventually let sleep overtake her. She was propped up, resting her body against one of the headstones, her head sloped and to the side, as she dozed...

Wanting to confirm her story, Chief snuck to the nearby village for reconnaissance... Every bit of it was accurate. Zenoira's mistreatment of the civilians was painfully obvious to the point he found it easy to believe the atrocious treatment had gone on for so many years with very little interference or repercussions.

Humans and elves both seemed to have a poor opinion of the occupation of Zenoiran rule. None were supportive of it in the least bit.

Clenching his jaw, he considered the sleeping elf princess, his partner now for the foreseeable future... Her attire and appearance were oddly provocative in the Chief's mind. A simple leotard, bare legs that curved down to her covered sheens and sandaled feet... A black cape and flowing purple hooded cloak hung low on her shoulders.

Highly revealing if not entirely. Still, despite her scantily clad body, she wasn't helpless in the least bit. Given her display at their first meeting, the Chief could not afford to underestimate her ability to fight.

Making his way to a nearby lake, Chief placed the data chip back into his Mjolnir and sighed. He looked out at his reflection in the water. Magic, elves, wyverns, witches, and wizards. This world was unlike anything the Chief had ever seen. So alien compared to everything the UNSC and Covenant had thrown at him.

How was he going to be able to find his way home while all this was going on? The task didn't seem easy...

Cortana's voice in his head repeated what she always did, 'You'll figure it out.'

Would he? He wondered as he gazed skyward towards the rising sun above. Dawn was breaking, its pink hues pushing the darkness away, bringing color and light back to the land of Fevrith.

After a long while he finally decided that no answers or solutions would present themselves on their own. Looking back in the direction of the abandoned cemetery, Chief turned and began the trek back to his companion. He'd figure it out eventually. In the end, he'd succeed. There was no other alternative.

Groggy, rubbing her eyes, Rosalinde sat up blinking and trying to wake. Shivering just a bit, she looked around, puzzled before realizing the spartan was nowhere in sight, making her heart lurch!

Scrambling up and almost falling over, she forced her sleep-hazy eyes to focus and look for her star person! Had the Zenoiran patrols returned!? Right, left, nothing and no one in sight, not even tracks upon the ground...

Spinning in circles, her sandaled feet dug up the gravel and dry leaves in her frenzied attempts at finding Chief, at last, a flash of green armor caught her eye, and relief washed over her like an ocean wave, releasing her pent-up worry and anxiety, her body relaxed as her hands went over her heart!

Thank Ervélda, Chief hadn't vanished... Though, Rosalinde chided herself silently. Where did she think he'd vanish to?! He came from the stars. Perhaps she was simply overwhelmed and disoriented after awakening and finding her new companion gone...

"Chief." was the simple warm greeting. Her eyes sparkled and her face beamed as she smiled. "Good morning!"

Staring down at the dark elf, he didn't return her greetings; instead, he stated bluntly, "What's our current objective?"

Deflated somewhat by his blunt and impersonal tone, Rosalinde frowned and almost pouted, the corners of her mouth scrunched up a bit. Still, the stoic armored giant was her ally and had agreed to work together with her for the foreseeable future, he would no doubt come to appreciate her friendliness... At least she could hope so.

Clearing her throat, she forced a small smile upon her lips, "Right, well..." her ruby eyes glowed and took in her green knight, "any direction or advancement would be hindered until we make contact with a local resistance group; they are scattered about the territory." She mused and brushed a strand of hair from her face.

Walking over to the elf, she carefully studied him, "Perhaps we should meet with the closest group we can locate? Our chance of meeting one may be more favorable on the outskirts since they will no doubt be avoiding heavily occupied areas..."

Gazing skyward the Chief nodded in agreement "Understood,"

"Then, let's get moving Chief." she chirped and twirled. Gathering the little items and gear she had brought along with them, securing everything neatly into a cloth bundle. Her long aqua locks swayed slightly.

"Try to stay alert. We don't want anyone reporting us or the Zenoiran soldiers catching on... especially this early..." Her eyes lingered briefly over his form before she secured the cloak over her; it did an adequate job of camouflaging her somewhat revealing attire.

With her bag in tow and staff gripped in one hand, the two ventured forward on their quest to liberate the country from the ironclad heel of Zenoiran's oppressive boots.

Chapter Text

Crouching on one knee, the Master Chief surveyed what little ordinance he had in his arsenal. Two frag grenades, one plasma grenade, his BR85, and four magazines for said weapon...

In hindsight, Chief should have been a bit more frugal with using his ordnance during his one-sided massacre with the Zenoirans earlier... Though considering the events of last night happened so fast, it didn't strike him to worry or conserve anything until later when he finally had time to.

Now with the reality of his situation starting to sink in, the spartan decided these items would need to be used wisely or saved as a last-ditch effort.

So then, what was his current game plan? Well, given the medieval technology Fevrith possessed, he'd have to rely more heavily on his physical abilities, stealth, and cover than usual when facing enemy forces. Swords, axes, shields, and bows... None truly possessed enough stopping power to endanger his Mjolnir armor, at least at first glance...

This world had magic. Or something that resembled it at the very least. For all he knew, the spears, swords, arrows, and axes of his foes might even hold some type of ancient magic within or enchantment that may give it some added danger and risk.

Placing a hand on his chest, the spartan's eyes gazed downwards upon his armor, recalling how a witch landed a direct blow right upon his breastplate; luckily his shields had taken the bulk of the attack. Still, such magic seemed a major game-changer for the Master Chief, one which he would not dismiss so easily in the future.

Looking to his left he caught the sight of Rosalinde walking through the forest quietly, her sandals rustling some fallen leaves and crunching on twigs. Standing over him she held her staff, tilting her head in that inquisitive manner of hers, the dark elf's eyes curiously fixed upon his rifle.

"Your weapon is impressive, Master Chief," the elf girl softly said. "If I may ask, do your people always train in the ways of an arbalist?"

Slowly, he raised a brow behind his helmet; she thought he was a crossbowman; well, it made sense for her to try and connect his rifle with something she was familiar with. "Yes." the reply was flat, his answer only seemed to puzzle her more. "We train with various firearms. Both short and long range."

Quirking one brow upward at his cryptic answer, she decided to elaborate, "A... 'fire' arms...?" Her lips turned in a rather cute puzzled manner, trying her hardest to put her companion's description into context...

Her puzzlement was amusing in a way; though Chief wasn't about to show his humor. Standing he equipped his BR85 on his back, "Did you find your resistance group?" he spoke gruffly, cutting to the chase.

Slightly annoyed at his abrupt change in subject, yet knowing it'd be fruitless to question him further, her thoughts switched, "Yes, for the time being, they've established themselves about two miles east of here." the princess pointed with her index finger "It's a small fort called Pikkimp."

The spartan, once again, gave a nod of acknowledgment; satisfied the duo advanced east, "I didn't make direct contact," She walked, continuing to keep up with Chief's brisk steps, "But I saw my people patrolling the grounds, and noted the layout is rather defensive and secure," Rosalinde jumped over an uneven path of rocks, gracefully clearing each jump in a single motion, "Of course the fort seems to have seen better days." she looked at him for any response, but once more the armored man had fallen silent, keeping his eyes fixed ahead of him as they trekked.

Sighing slightly, Rosalinde knew it would take time getting him to respond in a civilized manner; perhaps in his culture, it was common to keep emotions and responses so sealed away, "I've no doubt the Zenoirans have been giving the rebels a lot of trouble of late."

Coming up on a clear spot between the tree line, Chief stood and glanced out from their concealed spot into the small valley. Fort Pikkim was built atop a small hill; its wooden structure making it stand out amidst the trees around the hill.

Small gates, walls, watchtowers, and defenses seemed to be all built around it. Though, with how few weapons and armaments there were, and the pitifully small number of sentry troops walking the grounds, Fort Pikkim hardly posed a viable threat, much less any sort of impediment to Zenoira.

"What was the purpose of this fort?" Chief asked in a curt tone, his eyes not wavering, surveying the area thoroughly.

Rosalinde peeked past his broad shoulders, "It once served as the defense for the Winding Woods; keeping patrols safe, and traders secure, it once prospered and thrived."

"Winding Woods?"

The elven maiden glanced at the woods just south of the fort, "That whole area, Winding Woods. That forest serves as a border between Elheim and Cornia, magically infused to keep unwanted invaders out... Though..." her voice quieted with solemn regret "Not much good it did Elheim, or anyone else."

If Chief hadn't been blasted by magic prior, he might have found the idea of an enchanted forest absurd. But as things were, the thought didn't strike him as a stretch. This place had all sorts of strange, if not bizarre, and primitive elements. A magical, enchanted forest wasn't too far-fetched...

"Come," the oracle looked from the fort to the Master Chief, "Let's meet and establish contact; after that, we can talk more about our situation..."

The pair proceeded forward, hiking up the long gentle slope towards Pikkimp. The main entrance to the fort stood high and guarded by two archers stationed within two separate watchtowers, along with another guard stationed at the base, armed with a halberd.

Coming close, the guard stationed at the bottom spotted the pair and bowed his head. "Ter Rosalinde," he addressed formally. "When the sentries overhead had reported your presence approaching Fort Pikkim, we scarcely believed their eyes,"

Rosalinde giggled and bowed her head in greeting. Her staff remained tight in her grip as she replied to him in kind, "Yes, it's me. But do forgive us, good ser," she motioned a hand towards Chief, "We seek an audience with the commander of this post."

Stepping aside and tapping his halberd twice against the large wooden gates, the entrance was slowly opened. Allowing them inside, several of the garrison soldiers all peered up at the giant green figure, pointing and gawking. At the center, a few humans and elves walked forward to address the unlikely pair, especially their intimidating guest.

Leading the group, an elf with light blonde hair and attire fit for archers stopped a bit and then lowered his head, speaking in a formal tone, "My lady. It is indeed good to see you are in one piece."

Rosalinde slightly bowed her head to him, "Lhinalagos, so you're the one who's set up command for the rebel forces around this region, I should have guessed."

She playfully winked at her old subordinate, as if their current rank and standing didn't exist and was just a silly nuisance. "It's nice to see a familiar face still on this side of the veil," a sincere and genuine expression crossed her beautiful features.

Lhinalagos nodded a few times, his eyes watching Rosalinde's star knight warily, as the others in the garrison assembled slowly congregated at a respectable distance away from both groups. "Your presence itself is reassuring; most of our allies believe you lost to the empire."

Nodding her head slowly, her bright red orbs cast downward a bit, her features reflecting the weariness and hardships she'd experienced while being on the run these past years.

Gazing from Rosalinde to her mysterious knight and back, the resistance leader spoke with a serious air, "My lady, pray forgive my inquisitive nature, but may we inquire of who or what you travel with?"

Stifling a light laugh, Rosalinde knew her old friend's nature and desire for answers all too well, it had served her well through the years they'd trained together, "He is no enemy, but a new comrade, a celestial sent to aid our plight," she motioned her free hand towards Chief, who gazed around the fort.

Glancing back toward the leader and his entourage, their bewilderment and expressions of confusion became apparent, prompting Rosalinde to continue, "He has agreed to support and lend a hand against Zenoira."

Nods and murmurs resounded from the gathered soldiers at her declaration. A celestial? A servant of Ervélda perhaps?

Lhinalagos furrowed his brows a bit while scratching his chin and pondering before motioning Rosalinde and her comrade to a side building.

"While the extra help would be a welcome blessing, one...man, won't bring back Elheim from the grave.." he crossed his arms and regarded her with concern, his eyes studying the unknown creature.

Gripping her staff firmly, Rosalinde leveled Lhinalagos an assertive gaze. "His abilities and armaments should not be so lightly dismissed," she nodded. "I believe he has the skills necessary to lend us an edge in our efforts."

She peered intently at Lhinalagos who nodded once but frowned with concern. "That's all well and good," his face showed his hesitation, and despite Rosalinde's friendship with him and his having the utmost trust and devotion in her words and skills, a solitary warrior with grand combat effectiveness did not constitute much of a game-changing factor.

Entering what seemed like a war room, or at least a planning room, several maps, records, letters, parchments, quills, and other paraphernalia littered the space as a round wooden table sat in the center, large candles burning upon its surface, casting light through the darkened space.

As both Rosalinde and Lhinalagos entered and sat, Chief opted to stand, though kept to a nearby wall, and gazed at a rather detailed map. It looked to have various markers for each settlement and location, all bearing Zenoira's symbol and occupation of power.

"We're constantly on our back foot," Lhinalagos sighed bitterly. "Every single step, every ounce of progress, we're constantly trying to push against Zenoira, just to stay afloat..."

Leaning upon the table, he lowered his voice a bit more. "Your presence is greatly appreciated, My lady. But we can't rely on your companion here for a true miracle," his gaze momentarily flicked toward Chief before resting on his liege once more. "We need an actual fighting force, some kind of reprieve, to gain an advantage..."

Biting her lip lightly, Rosalinde knew Lhinalagos would be skeptical. And while the elf was most assuredly the finest marksman with his bow, he possessed quite the sharp and accurate tactical mind, too.

But he was wrong in this case. Her star person, Master Chief, could single-handedly be the force they so badly needed and required to turn the tide!

Pursing her lips and wracking her mind, Rosalinde pondered and considered how she could demonstrate Chief's overwhelming prowess. Looking up and peering at him, Rosalinde felt that, in some ways, his mere presence alone provided a modicum of confidence. Perhaps, the only thing they needed to do was ask the Master Chief himself.

Pivoting, Rosalinde regarded her compatriot with determination "Master Chief," she called out. "Would you honor us with a demonstration of your mettle?"

Looking over at them, Chief already had the gears turning as to what might be the best way of presenting his usefulness... Perhaps carving much-needed room in Zenoira's advance and allowing the Resistance some breathing space and leeway was in order...

Slowly and steadily he walked, the spartan's movements, seemingly graceful. "The village of Vilta," He'd studied the maps well enough in the last few minutes, picking out its position and details, "It's a front for Zenoiran supplies, logistics, and restocking." His gaze rested solely on his fellow dark elf, who studied his tone and words intently, while Lhinalagos’ light teal orbs were both scrutinizing and distrustful.

"I'll infiltrate and disable their forces," his tone was resolute, and Rosalinde was taken aback, her lips parted in an 'o' shape.

"Alone? Without reinforcements?" she questioned him, a twinge of anxiety beginning to set in. "Master Chief, while you are a formidable fighter, to take such a risk alone-"

The Master Chief interrupted her words with a curt remark, his words concise and to the point, "I've already scouted the layout."

While Lhinalagos leaned backward in his chair, somewhat surprised. The hulking man turned to leave; his mind was made up, his conviction clear. If this behemoth could be capable and carry out the assault alone, that meant fewer resources the Resistance needed to dedicate.

Having Vilta under their control would be an excellent staging post into the eastern provinces of Zenoiran-occupied Elheim...

But that was wishful thinking, wasn't it...? Surely, such a feat was impossible; one lone warrior couldn't be a match for even a small garrison or brigade.

Standing abruptly and catching up to Chief in long steps, Rosalinde quickly turned and regarded her elven friend. "Excuse us for just a moment." before following out of earshot.

Parting through the gathered throngs, Rosalinde practically glided through the troops as her feet carried her with great haste trying to keep up with Chief's long, deliberate strides.

Was he really intent on trying this now?! Shouldn't he take time to rest first? They just arrived, and he was already wanting to head out again.

"Master Chief," the oracle, in hushed tones, almost sounded winded. "Surely you were jesting? I cannot fathom allowing you to execute this assault alone," her eyes filled with concern and a touch of disbelief.

The spartan's body kept walking without wavering, his mind mulling and taking in everything. "You said to demonstrate my abilities."

"Indeed I did," Rosalinde snapped in quick reply. However she had in mind some kind of controlled demonstration or perhaps a small task that needed to be carried out. "but certainly this is a bit much, yes?"

"Negative," Chief turned slightly to face her, his feet continuing forward with his determined trek. "This will allow your Resistance the opportunity and breathing room to reorganize and gather." His arm reached out and gently nudged her back towards the meeting chambers. "Go. Once I've almost finished my task, I'll signal for your forces. Then they can mop up."

The dark elf's lips contorted in a distasteful grimace, not entirely convinced Chief was going to come out the other side. "And how are you to summon me and my comrades, precisely, when the time comes?" her tone and skepticism were hard to ignore.

Chief turned from her and walked onward, his footfalls thudding through the small courtyard. "I'll find a way." he calmly remarked.

Rosalinde stopped in her tracks, stomping her foot in an almost childish pout. Why did the man have to be so obstinately sure of his abilities and plans?! Surely a few moments to fully consider the situation and discuss would not hurt his ego?!

Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Rosalinde raised her palm to the heavens. "Ervélda protect him, may the spirits bless and guide him," she muttered with great resolve, turning about. She needed to get the men and supplies ready.

The trek to the village wasn't long, and soon, the supersoldier found himself snaking into an alleyway; Chief waited as a group of soldiers filed past him and continued down the pathway; their chain-mail rustled lightly while their boots clanked rhythmically on the hard-packed dirt street.

Slinking silently deeper in, he squared his shoulders and peeked at the pair of sentries positioned by the village's northern gate, two troopers lazily posted while conversing about the patrols.

This town didn't have that many guards, but it had plenty of supplies and goods to fuel and restock any camps or convoys moving in and out of the territory. Seizing the village and its bounty would aid the resistance greatly...

Grabbing a brick from the ground and clutching it in his grasp, the spartan went through a few practice motions, weighing the size and weight in his hand. Aiming, his muscles coiled and his eyes narrowed as he lined up the shot. Flicking his wrist, his arm released, sending the chunk of debris flying through the air, and hitting the farther target square in the temple.

Seeing his comrade go down, the closer soldier bent down to assist his partner, unknowingly giving his backside away to the Master Chief. Heavy footsteps closed the distance and just as the remaining trooper turned about, the spartan's hands flew forward, seizing the trooper by the throat.

Lifting the now thrashing guard from the ground, the spartan's hands gave a tug as his vice-like grip snapped his neck with ease, dropping the corpse carelessly into a pile atop his partner. Carefully, he stashed both corpses from view, hiding them behind some barrels.

Chief continued throughout the village with a methodical, predatory instinct, working his way inwards, knocking off as many wandering sentries and lone patrols as he could...

He was like a ghost, vanishing from view whenever another patrol came by. The Zenoirans had no clue he was there.

It wasn't until a rather brave hoplite tried to help another comrade in the spartan's grasp that they became aware of his presence. Charging towards him, the soldier hefted his Great shield up and lunged forward, trying to tackle Chief and send him reeling backward, a tactic meant to force an enemy off-balance and open to attacks.

Letting the Zenoiran in his grasp drop, Chief raised his shoulder and took the hoplite's tackle head-on, the resulting impact causing him to move back only an inch while sending the trooper sprawling to the floor. The brief distraction allowed the fleeing soldier to escape and raise the alarm.

The Master Chief didn't have long to wait as the cry to arms rang through the town. Soldiers rallied to the sound of the gongs, heading towards his location in a hurry. With the element of surprise gone, Chief brought out his knife that was stored within his gauntlet and waited.

With no magick users in sight, the spartan was confident he'd be able to take them head-on.

It wasn't long before three troopers came running forward with swords and spears drawn; their weapons held at the ready as their eyes locked onto the Master Chief. "This is how we deal with spies!" one of them yelled out.

Darting forward with his knife drawn, he charged and smashed the blade through one of the soldier's chainmail and dug it into his stomach as the other two lunged forward with their spears.

Closing on him in a pincher move, one went low, while another jabbed high. Breaking like twigs against the spartan's armor, kicking the impaled trooper away from himself, Chief quickly slashed at the throats of his two attackers.

As a fresh wave of reinforcements came rushing in, the spartan made his move, hopping onto rooftops and leaping across the gaps. Making his way towards the center of town where a large pavilion was set up, Chief took note of the many wagons filled with various supplies.

Ignoring the Javelins and arrows that either bounced off or shattered upon hitting his Mjolnir armor, the spartan continued jumping and dodging throughout the town. "There!" "Over here!" "Bring him down!" the voices of the Zenoiran soldiers shouted in frustration.

Landing down upon the hard-packed earth, the Master Chief made a beeline for the wagons of supplies, eyeing, to his surprise, a contraption that looked like a primitive landmine of sorts... Was that possible to even create with medieval technology? Maybe it was magical...

Either way, Chief gave it some thought before coming up with an idea. Grabbing two off the wagon, he threw one high into the air; reaching for his rifle, he switched to single-round firing and aimed.

Nearing its apex, the Master Chief lined up the shot and fired.

A thunderous roar shook the buildings as a brilliant flash lit up the sky! The resulting explosion, blinding most of the nearby guards, left them dazed and confused as they scrambled, unsure of what had happened.

Tossing the other mine down, it landed with a dull thud right before a cluster of soldiers. Their confused and disoriented glances only made it easier for the spartan to target and fire at the object.

The resulting blast tore the group apart, their screams filling the air and causing panic to ripple throughout the ranks.

With their forces in utter chaos, Chief continued his assault through the town. Rushing and engaging any Zenoiran troops who tried to stop him. If everything went to plan, Rosalinde and the resistance saw his signal and were on their way with reinforcements.

Shouting amongst the Zenoirans grew louder and more frantic as the soldiers rushed about with no real sense of control, their leader having been killed by Chief when the supersoldier first arrived in town.

Setting up a few barricades and fortifications, a knight tried his best to rally the remaining troops together. Forming a defensive perimeter, he'd managed to get a few of the men into some sense of order. He didn't know what was going on, but surely they could hold out long enough for aid to arrive.

It was just one man!

As he turned and began barking orders, an archer came stumbling from one of the back alleyways towards their position, dropping his bow and crying for help, he frantically waved and yelled out.

"Resistance forces! Resistance forces incoming!"

The knight shook his head in dismay, cursing himself silently. It couldn't be true, though; surely this was a trick? The fools had been on the run for years now, never daring to launch a frontal assault against Zenoiran positions.

Then, he heard it. The war horns sounding, the distant cries of the soldiers approaching, and the thunderous crash of hooves.

It was no ruse. Elheim's forces had rallied under this mysterious person...

Already the men who were trying to hold their ground were breaking formation and either running away or simply surrendering on the spot, unable to withstand the thought of the coming onslaught.

The knight cursed and screamed out "Damn it all, stand your ground! Stand your ground!" he barked in a frantic tone.

"Sir, we don't stand a chance! There are dozens of them!" one of the hoplites shouted back, while the rest looked at their commander with uncertainty and fear in their eyes.

"There could be a thousand for all I care!" the knight snapped, his face flushed red with anger as the resistance forces grew closer, "We'll stay put and fight them, to the very last-" his words were cut off as an arrow flew through the air, piercing right through the side of his neck. Sending the man to the floor in a choking, bloody mess.

Scattering in terror, the remaining Zenoirans either ran or were cut down as the resistance forces flooded into town like a tidal wave, their weapons raised and voices high with pride and fury.

Watching the soldiers sweep into the city, Chief pulled his knife from the chest of a Zenoiran soldier, wiping the blade clean before sheathing it once more. Whoever sniped that arrow did an excellent job at ending that knight's life.

"Celestial..." a familiar voice rang from nearby, as Lhinalagos approached. Bow gripped tightly in hand, answering the unasked question of who fired the lethal arrow just a few moments ago.

"I must admit, I had doubts about Rosalinde's claim, but you've certainly proved yourself." His head lowered with the utmost respect for his ally.

Chief simply gave him a single nod as the dark elf appeared beside Lhinalagos, her face lit up as her eyes sparkled at the sight of her celestial being standing unharmed.

Hearing a few shouts and needing to begin directing his forces, Lhinalagos nodded and departed. Leaving Rosalinde by herself as she quickly walked over to him.

"Chief!" she practically beamed with joy. Her lips turned into a smile as she gazed up at him. "Your signal was perfect; the timing couldn't have been any better!"

She took a step closer and gently patted his armored chest. "Lhinalagos was a bit worried we'd be discovered in the forest while preparing," she mused. "But I assured him you'd come through."

The spartan said nothing but simply gazed down at her, his visor hiding any expression he might have held. The way she acted around him was... different than what he had grown accustomed to. Forward and vibrant in personality, he wasn't used to seeing such behavior among the ranks of the UNSC.

"Anyways!" she suddenly chirped, catching Chief's attention, "Let's see about helping any townsfolk and get this place secure!" she grinned with her hands on her hips, her head tilting to the side slightly in a cutesy manner.

"Understood," he spoke in a curt tone. Though his mind was racing at what to make of his new partner. They'd likely be working together for some time. Magic, elves, knights, it was all so... different... A part of Chief still wondered if any of this was even real.

Chapter Text

"Chief?!"

Rosalinde's tone carried a mixture of frustration and eager anticipation. Her brows furrowed and her hands balled up tightly as she ignored the stares from a few villagers watching from the sidelines.

The dark elf had been searching high and low for him since the early morning. After Vilta was liberated and retaken, the Resistance was able to rally and form a proper base of operations, setting up shop within the village.

Now with the first major success against Zenoira under their belt, there was a palpable buzz throughout Vilta. Soldiers were busy unloading supplies from wagons, setting up defenses and fortifications, and going over weapons and gear.

Rebuilding the neglected town was the top priority. And the residents, grateful to have been saved by the Resistance, were lending a hand where they could. With hope renewed and morale at an all-time high, it seemed as if everything was falling into place for them.

"Master Chief?!" The elf was growing more irritated that her companion was proving difficult to find, and she did NOT like the prospect of him vanishing without saying anything to her. "Where are you?"

In the village stables, she called out his name for a third time as she peeked between each stall. "Chief?!"

In the center of the village

"Chief?!"

The barracks

"Master Chief?"

The tavern

"Chief?"

Garden

"Chief?"

The local blacksmith's shop

"Master Chief?"

Letting out a frustrated sigh, the dark elf huffed and continued her search for her star knight. She had no clue as to why he was being so difficult to find, surely the giant man couldn't be that hard to locate, could he?

She'd attended any important meetings and done all the things expected of an augur. Now? She was just going about her business, trying to enjoy the brief reprieve she'd earned from the past several days of stress and hard living.

The oracle just wanted a few minutes alone with him. Was that too much to ask?!

Grumbling to herself and walking towards the outskirts of Vilta, she noticed a few of the men were preparing their horses. Getting ready to ride back to Pikkimp to restock supplies and bring back some much-needed reinforcements to bolster Vilta's defense in the event Zenoira launched any kind of counter-offensive.

Her heeled sandals clacked lightly as she stepped upon the stone path, her curious eyes scanning for any sign of the armored giant.

The men all turned and greeted her politely, each bowing respectfully. "Ter Rosalinde," they said in unison. She nodded and greeted them back with a kind voice and gentle smile. "Good day to you, everyone."

One of the men, an older human, stepped forward with a light bow, "Ter Rosalinde, may we be of any assistance to you?"

She shook her head gently and clasped her hands in front of her, giving the man a sincere smile, "I am well, thank you. But I was hoping to find Master Chief... I take it he isn't here?" she mused.

The soldier blinked a bit, then nodded once before turning towards his comrades, "He and Commander Lhinalagos set out an hour ago into the forest to set up a few traps and snares."

Rosalinde's eyes widened and she turned in that direction, "Thank you." Before walking swiftly away.

"Of course, Ter Rosalinde!" The elder soldier called back with a wave. As he watched the Oracle go off in search of the Spartan.

Easily digging into the earth with his powerful hands, the Chief pulled out clump after clump of soil, digging up a pit deep enough for a magick mine to lay safely inside.

Standing up and nodding to himself, the spartan wiped the dirt from his hands and stepped aside to let Lhinalagos do his part.

"Celesti-ah Master

Chief..." The commander corrected himself just in time. Rosalinde had made it clear that her star knight wanted to be referred to as Chief or Spartan.

The elf placed the magick mine down into the freshly dug hole, "You truly believe Zenoira forces will come through this way?"

"It's one of the few heavily forested areas that can shield them from prying eyes," Chief remarked back. His mind going over several different scenarios and plans of action. "They'll most likely try and move in from the shadows, and then attack."

The elven commander didn't say anything but quietly set the mine down and began burying it with soil, patting the surface to hide its existence. "If you think this is the best way to stop them, then I won't protest."

Standing up and dusting himself off, the Commander looked over at the Master Chief, "I'll have to inform the men not to stray too close to this side of the forest, lest they risk losing life or limb."

Chief gave a nod in agreement, as a pair of hands reached out from behind him and grabbed the spartan by his armored biceps. A soft yet playful feminine voice giggling in amusement.

"I've finally caught you!" The augur teased, her ruby-red eyes twinkling playfully as she looked up at the spartan.

The two men turned about and stared in surprise; Lhinalagos's face broke out into a small grin, "My lady." He hastily bowed in greeting.

"Ah... good morning, Lhinalagos," She nodded back to him with an appreciative smile. "I trust all is well?"

"Yes! Most certainly, milady." He replied in earnest, standing upright, a cheerful look on his face.

"I am glad to hear it..." She turned her head slightly to look at Chief, her eyes narrowing on him as she tapped his breastplate with a finger. "You were hard to find today, you know?"

Chief didn't reply immediately. Instead, his gaze flicked from her, then to Lhinalagos and back, before turning about to face the dark elf. "I've been preparing for a counterattack," he remarked stoically.

Rosalinde let out an exaggerated huff of air while puffing her cheeks out in annoyance, "Yes yes..." her tone light and playful. "I've heard what you two are up to," she looked at them both, her expression turning more serious. "We're trying to ensure Zenoira won't be able to move on Vilta anytime soon."

Lhinalagos nodded once before walking off, motioning for Chief and Rosalinde to follow him, "The town has been abuzz with activity ever since our triumph." he remarked as the trio headed back towards the village, passing by a few sentries stationed by the entrance, "Morale hasn't been this high in a long time..." he mused.

Rosalinde gave a small shrug and placed her hands behind her back, clasping them together, "We've not scored a victory like this since the early days of the war," she regarded both the Commander and Master Chief, her tone becoming somber. "Our forces had suffered greatly, and it seemed as though Zenoira would overrun all of Fevira."

Chief listened but said nothing, allowing the two to continue speaking. "Now that you're here though..." she smiled softly as she looked up at the Spartan, "things are starting to turn around. We've got a chance now, a real chance at taking back our country..."

Her eyes shined with hope as she gazed at her partner. The Master Chief still said nothing, but his mind was hard at work, already formulating plans and strategies for their next steps. If they were to retake Fevira from Zenoira's hands, they'd have to strike fast. Hit them where it hurt, cripple the supply lines and reinforcements.

"The road to victory will be long." The elven archer spoke out in a firm, yet calm tone, "We should begin on deciding what our next course of action is."

Rosalinde nodded in agreement, her eyes staring off into the distance thoughtfully, "You're right... We'll need to make preparations, and gather as many allies as possible."

"I suggest continuing the southeastern route, we could make our way towards Yanis and then from there to Rokkuros," Lhinalagos pointed out. "Having one of the main border routes to Cornia under our control will prove invaluable later on down the road."

"That's all well and good, but the southern front won't be undefended..." Rosalinde remarked with a frown. "I've heard Zenora slavers were operating within that region..."

Chief stopped walking and stared down at the two natives, "The slavers are our biggest threat?" He asked bluntly.

Both Lhinalagos and Rosalinde looked at each other before shaking their heads, "No, in terms of skill or strength, I wouldn't consider them such." Lhinalagos spoke out, "However, taking those who'd join our cause as slaves will no doubt cripple our chances of bolstering our ranks."

Rosalinde added, "Plus, I've no doubt the slavers will bring their spoils back to Zenoira to serve as labor for the Empire; they'll be able to resupply and re-equip faster if we let their operation continue."

Chief took in everything they said and mulled it over. "Then our objective is clear," he stated plainly. "We take out their operation, and prevent more slaves from falling into Zenoira's hands."

Jogging a bit ahead, Lhinalagos turned about and faced them. "I'll double-check our defenses between Pikkimp and Vilta in case our enemies try a surprise attack." With that said he sprinted away, heading back towards the fort.

"That Lhinalagos is quite the hard worker," Rosalinde chirped and mused to herself. Her gaze returned to Chief once more, a warm smile gracing her features, "Shall we get something to eat? Brunch perhaps?"

Slight irritation bubbled up within Rosalinde, her partially eaten Velvety omelette sitting on the table in front of her. She frowned at the spartan who sat across from her with no meal but maps and documents scattered on his side of the table.

"When I said let's have brunch together, I meant for both of us to eat something," she chided and pouted at her armored partner with a huff.

The dark elf was hoping she'd finally see what was underneath his helmet, maybe get a glimpse of his true face and share a nice moment between the two...

But no... Instead of enjoying their brief respite in peace, the Master Chief instead had insisted they go over battle plans, tactics, and what the next move would be for their campaign against Zenoira.

"I told you I'm not hungry right now," Chief spoke plainly as he continued to read and sort through the various papers spread before him. "I'll eat when I get the chance."

Humans and elves within the tavern glanced at the pair occasionally, mostly due to their curiosity and fascination at seeing the armored man sitting next to their oracle.

The spartan could feel their eyes boring into him from time to time, but he ignored them; more focused on his task of planning.

Rosalinde frowned once more at his stubborn refusal and leaned back in her chair, "I don't understand how you can be so focused all the time..." she grumbled in a light tone. Her ruby eyes glanced away from him. "You should learn to relax, take a break, and enjoy yourself..."

Chief didn't reply and continued his work, his mind fully engrossed with the maps and reports, his mind running through various strategies and scenarios. It was his duty to ensure their side won the war. The quicker and more efficient he could accomplish this, the sooner he'd find a way back home.

Spooning a mouthful of food into her lips, Rosalinde chewed slowly as she glanced about the tavern; her gaze lingering on the other patrons within the establishment.

Most were Resistance soldiers, taking a well-deserved rest or break. Others were simply locals who'd been liberated by their forces.

Perhaps the Master Chief was shy around crowds? The thought brought an impish smile to her lips, her head turning back to regard him, the idea of the big scary man being nervous around people sounded cute and endearing to her...

"Rosalinde?"

Blinking and sitting upright at his call, she perked up a bit and took a sip of water, swallowing what remained of her food. It wasn't often that he said her name out loud, "Yes?" She chirped in a sweet tone, "Do you require something?"

Pushing a map towards her, he spoke "Lhinalagos mentioned the town of Rokkuros being where we should push for." He tapped on a spot on the map. "However, the path from Yanis to Rokkuros is blocked by cliffs and rough terrain." his finger traced along a path to illustrate his point.

Rosalinde nodded her head, understanding where he was coming from, "Correct; however, if my memory serves me right, there should be a small pass here..." She trailed her finger down to a town in-between that territory and tapped it lightly, "The town of Kiulkukka."

"Kiulkukka?" Chief questioned, his eyes staring at the name and location.

"Mhm," She replied, her red orbs glancing up at him, "I've been there before when I was younger; there's a passage between some mountains that can be traversed by foot." She pointed to a few lines on the map. "It connects to another town, Siltakulya, which in turn leads right to Rokkuros!"

She smiled softly and sat back once more with her arms crossed, "We should be able to reach Rokkuros easily enough if we go through Kiulkukka's passage, bypassing all the mountains and other difficult terrain."

Studying the location, the Master Chief mentally mapped out their route and what it would take for them to reach Rokkuros from their current location. "Moving heavy equipment like wagons through that kind of area would be a problem..." He muttered to himself.

"Which is probably the reason Zenoira hasn't committed much of its forces towards Yanis or Kiulkukka." The dark elf remarked with a shrug, "I doubt they want to risk sending soldiers down the pass."

Chief gave a nod and looked at her, "What about Rokkuros? You said it's another border town?"

Rosalinde bobbed her head up and down in agreement as she took another spoonful of her omelette, "Yes! I'm not certain how large of a garrison is there; but with the harbor town of Voinikola just a few miles out from Rokkuros," she tapped on the coastal village, "The Zenoirans no doubt have quite a bit of supplies and troops stationed there." Her eyes flicked up to stare at him, "The Rokkuros side of the terrain will be quite more challenging compared to the Yanis or Kiulkukka areas..."

Taking it all in, Chief leaned back and crossed his arms. Rosalinde could practically feel the gears in his head turning as if she could watch him formulate plans and strategies...

His face suddenly turned to the tavern's entrance as several people came through the doorway, Lhinalagos among them.

"My lady," he bowed his head slightly to her and then to the Master Chief. "We're ready."

Chief nodded and stood up, "Then let's go." His voice echoed out as he began making way for the door.

Rosalinde gave a huff and quickly finished what remained of her brunch, standing up with haste to catch up to him. Jogging lightly behind him, she called out, "Wait! Slow down! We need to pack some supplies first!" Her feet clacked along the wooden floorboards as she hurriedly tried to keep up with the supersoldier's long strides.

Chapter Text

Crawling on all fours, Rosalinde peeked her head over the edge of a hill overlooking the town of Yanis. It was quiet and peaceful, not a single sign of trouble or conflict. It looked like nothing out of the ordinary had happened here in years. She frowned slightly as she scanned the area once more for any indication of trouble; she had been expecting something...

Laying flat on her stomach, she rolled over to where her star knight and Commander Lhinalagos were lying prone as well, their eyes trained forward.

"I don't see anything ..." she remarked, pressing her body closer than needed into the spartan. "It looks... peaceful...?"

Her star person gazed through the scope of his arbalest, scanning the buildings and surrounding landscape. "It does." He noted aloud. Nothing seemed amiss or suspicious.

"Think it's a trap?" Lhinalagos questioned with narrowed eyes, his brows furrowed with worry.

"No," Chief replied without looking at him.

"No?" Rosalinde tilted her head slightly, pushing a bit more of her frame against his armor. Trying to see through his scope. "How so?" She inquired.

The Master Chief passed her his rifle for her to peer through, the large weapon too cumbersome for her to properly wield, she struggled to keep it still for a few moments before getting the hang of it and looking through the scope.

"Oh!" The image was so clear and his scope rivaled any telescope she's ever used. "This is amazing!" She praised, moving from one side of town to another.

Shifting his gaze towards Lhinalagos, Chief gave a quick explanation: "A few pieces of Zenorian armor were left out on display; they look like some kind of warning, but the town itself seems fine..."

Nodding, the Commander turned back to gaze at the village. "It couldn't have been any of my men; we've been stuck in Fort Pikkimp for months, and there hasn't been much activity around this area since the war began," he muttered quietly.

Humming in thought and lowering the Arbalest, Rosalinde handed the rifle back to Chief, "Perhaps some local farmers took a stand?"

" Ter Rosalinde," Lhinalagos frowned and shook his head, "These people haven't lifted a sword in generations, a militia of such a small nature would hardly be capable of organizing and training themselves to repel invaders."

The dark elf nodded in agreement before a sly smile graced her features. Scooting herself over to the Spartan, she rested her chin on his shoulder plate. "Well, stranger things have been happening lately," she mused with an impish grin. "Who knows what could be going on in this town, right Master Chief?" She winked at him.

The spartan simply glanced at her briefly, before returning his attention to the task at hand, "We need to find out what happened here." He stated in a neutral tone. His visor shifted once more to the seemingly peaceful village.

"Yes, but how shall we do that? Just waltz on in?" She questioned, raising her eyebrow in curiosity. "If it was indeed a trap..." She trailed off as she playfully tapped his shoulder plate.

The Chief rose to his feet and slung his rifle across his back, "Then we deal with them."

Rosalinde perked up at his words. The sheer confidence in them was infectious, she couldn't help but giggle, her ruby eyes shining brightly. She quickly jumped to her feet as well. "If you're going, then so am I!" She chirped happily.

Lhinalagos sighed and reluctantly stood up alongside them, "While I'd rather have you both remain here while I investigate first," He paused and gave an apologetic smile. "I know better than to try and dissuade the two of you..."

With that said he turned on his heel and began marching down to where the rest of their small army was stationed, a good mile away from town, hidden by trees and the rocky terrain.

"Then it's decided!" The dark elf grinned broadly, clasping her hands behind her back. "Let's go, shall we?"

Chief didn't respond verbally, but instead began moving down the hillside with Rosalinde trailing after him closely, practically skipping as she walked. Her long teal hair bounced slightly as she moved.

As the duo neared the edge of town, they slowed their pace, weapons drawn and at the ready.

The town was eerily quiet; nobody seemed to be out on the streets or going about their daily lives. It almost seemed abandoned... "Where is everyone?" Rosalinde asked quietly. Her ruby gaze darted around nervously as she held her staff tightly.

Chief's head swiveled about, looking through the various doorways and windows of each building they passed by. His visor scanning the area for any potential threats. Nothing came up on his motion tracker but still.

"They're hiding..." Chief spoke calmly, his eyes still trained on the streets ahead.

"Hiding?" She blinked in surprise, her brows furrowed together as she looked around, "But from what?"

"Us."

She pursed her lips for a moment, then nodded hesitantly. "How can you tell?" She whispered.

"Everything looks like it was dropped suddenly. Tools, clothing, even food." The spartan gestured to a few things that were left out. "They're all over the place. They ran inside quickly and hid."

The dark elf nodded slowly, her eyes scanning over the abandoned items scattered about; he was right, everything did look like it was hastily discarded.

As they made their way further into town, Chief kept his rifle ready, while Rosalinde peered into an empty home.

Suddenly she felt a strange sensation in her gut, a feeling of dread that made her shiver. Ears twitching slightly, and the sound of wood creaking from behind drew her attention.

At the same moment, Chief caught movement on his motion tracker "Contact, behind us." He called out, spinning around, and with blinding speed, the spartan put himself between Rosalinde and the would-be ambusher.

The assailant, clad in brown leather armor, a red cape, and messy purple hair, had jumped off a roof with a dagger in hand, ready to plunge the blade into the dark elf's neck... Only for the Spartan to interpose himself between them...

"Ack!" The figure shouted as his neck was grabbed by the Spartan who slammed him hard into the ground, pinning his arms down in one fluid motion. "Ow!"

Pressing his knee onto their chest and keeping a hold on his wrists, Chief quickly disarmed the individual of their weapon, tossing the dagger away.

Rosalinde took a few steps back as she watched with wide eyes as Chief subdued the mysterious figure.

"W-What?!" The human man cried out as he struggled against Chief's grip, his face contorted in pain.

"Who are you?" The spartan demanded gruffly, tightening his grip slightly, drawing a sharp grunt from the attacker. His eyes narrowed through his visor, glaring down at the writhing form beneath him.

"Owowowowowowowow!" The purple-haired man winced in agony as he continued to squirm around. "I'm not– haha..." a nervous laugh escaped him, his voice growing quieter, "The one you need to worry about... haha..."

An arrow being drawn from a quiver caught the Spartan's attention, and he quickly looked up to see another man standing on a roof nearby, drawing back the string of his bow and aiming at Chief and his captive...

Raising her staff defensively, Rosalinde's eyes narrowed as she prepared a spell "You've got a lot of nerve ambushing us like that," she hissed in a dangerous tone, her teeth bared in a snarl.

Chief stared down the archer, his mind racing through multiple scenarios on how to dispatch him with extreme efficiency.

"H-Hey now! Let's just talk this out like civilized folk, yeah?!" The pinned man beneath Chief stammered nervously.

Chief said nothing as he glared back at the red haired-archer who kept his aim trained on them both. Squeezing the man's wrist harder and causing the purple-haired stranger to cry out again.

"Gahhh! My arm! My arm!" The assistant cried out in pain.

"Drop the bow and get down here," Chief commanded firmly.

"That's not going to happen." the archer called back in a stoic voice. His gaze never wavering or leaving the Spartan.

The Master Chief's grip tightened even more. The man let out a pained groan as he tried to wrench his wrist free. "I won't ask again."

"Please, this isn't necessary..." a voice from the sky called out to them, catching the group off guard.

Both Chief and Rosalinde looked skyward to find a gryphon and its rider slowly descending from above, the sun shining behind it as if it were coming straight from the heavens itself, casting an almost angelic light upon the majestic beast...

The archer relaxed slightly but maintained his grip on the weapon, watching the newcomer carefully. As did Chief, his hold loosening somewhat on the squirming stranger below him.

"Oh, thank the gods," the purple-haired man sighed in relief, trying to look at the newcomer, "About time you got here!"

"Please," the figure repeated softly, "There's no need for violence." They pleaded gently as the gryphon landed on the street nearby.

The gryphon's rider, a young, lightly armored knight with blonde hair, slid off her mount with ease and grace, her blue eyes peering directly at them. She extended her hands out to them, opened palms and upturned. "We mean you no harm."

The purple-haired man struggled beneath Chief's grasp. "Tell that to my wrist! He practically shattered it!" he cried out in distress.

Rosalinde eyed the new arrival, taking note of their attire and appearance. Shoulder armor, shin and waist guards, and a simple green and white tunic that covered her well-endowed bosom. She didn't look like much of a threat, but appearances could be deceiving...

"Identify yourself," Chief spoke up in a cold, steely tone, his gaze locked onto the gryphon rider.

The blonde-haired woman gave him an odd look as if she wasn't sure what to make of him or his request. "I am Celeste, I formed the militia here."

Chief said nothing, but his grip on the squirming man relaxed further as his gaze flicked from her towards the archer, who still had his weapon trained on them, then back to Celeste again.

"A militia? Here?" Rosalinde's brows rose in surprise and curiosity.

Celeste nodded with a smile. "Yes! We've driven off Zenoira's forces and freed our people from their tyranny." she declared proudly, "Thanks to Ser Gammel," the gryphon knight pointed at the man Chief was currently restraining. "And Ser Mandrin," she then pointed at the archer. "We were able to succeed in our efforts!"

Gammel gave a nervous chuckle as he continued to wiggle about "Hah... yes! See, I'm a decent person! You can let me go now, yeah?"

The spartan glanced down at him and then back to Rosalinde who simply gave an unsure shrug.

Chief slowly removed himself from Gammel, allowing the smaller man to quickly get up and back away while rubbing his sore wrist with a groan. "Gods, that hurt..." he muttered quietly under his breath.

Mandrin finally lowered his bow and climbed off the roof with a hop, a bounce of his feet on a barrel, then landed on the street with a soft thud of his boots.

Seeing the confrontation had found a peaceful end, Celeste let out a sigh of relief, her shoulders sagging slightly. "Please, forgive our rudeness. It's been quite some time since we've seen anyone besides Zenoira forces..." She smiled warmly at the duo.

Twirling her staff idly and giving Gammel and Mandrin a critical look over, Rosalinde nodded in agreement, "That is understandable," she mused, looking back to the gryphon rider. "My name is Rosalinde," she gestured to Chief, "And this here is my partner, the Master Chief."

All three of the strange new faces stared at him for a long moment before Gammel tilted his head in confusion, "... The master... of what?"

Rosalinde pursed her lips for a moment and looked at her spartan companion, "He's the master of many things..." She grinned with a hint of playfulness. "But right now we are working together to free Elheim from Zenoira's control, just like your village."

Chief remained silent and allowed Rosalinde to speak on their behalf.

Gammel and Mandrin glanced at one another shrugging their shoulders dismissively while Celeste gave the dark elf a thoughtful expression.

Her eyes suddenly widened with realization "Wait... Rosalinde...?" The gryphon knight questioned, her eyes scanning the dark elf's features. " Augur and aid to the Turenós ?!"

The dark elf gave a bright smile at the recognition of her title and raised her hand to her chest, placing it over her heart, "The very same." She said proudly.

"Oh wow! This is amazing!" The young blonde's face lit up as she clasped her hands together excitedly. "To think I'd ever meet one of the Oracles!"

The dark elf let out a light laugh and waved her hand dismissively. "Please, please," She mused with a hint of merriment.

Watching from the sidelines, Gammel elbowed Mandrin in the side lightly with a sly smile. "My knowledge of Elheim culture and lore is... rusty," he began with a sheepish smile. "But I think you tried attacking royalty or something..."

Mandrin frowned and crossed his arms, "You tried jumping her with a knife..." he pointed out with a hint of agitation.

Chief looked between all three of them as they bantered. Keeping his visor trained on them all to ensure that no more tricks were up their sleeves.

"I'm so sorry for the confusion," Celeste bowed her head apologetically to Rosalinde, ignoring the two men beside her. "When we saw the both of you approaching our town, we thought it might be some Zenoiran ruse..."

Rosalinde gave a curt nod and smiled softly. "We understand completely." she turned to Chief, "I think it's safe to say, there is no trap here... Right Master Chief?"

The spartan stared down at her and then at the three individuals before them, his expression unreadable behind his helmet. "If there is, we can deal with it," He replied firmly.

The trio of militia fighters seemed to tense up slightly at his words, but quickly relaxed when they realized he was only joking. At least… they hoped he was.

"Anyways..." Celeste coughed lightly, "You mentioned your mission is to free Elheim from Zenoira?" she asked curiously, tilting her head to the side. "But I can't imagine you'd come alone..." she trailed off, hoping for more information.

"We are not alone, no..." The dark elf shook her head and pointed towards a distant hill. "The resistance is stationed nearby, waiting for us to return with news," she explained with a hint of pride.

Celeste perked up at the mention of more allies and quickly glanced back at Mandrin and Gammel, who both nodded in unison, their faces stern with determination as well.

"Please!" She spun back around to face the pair once more, her hands clasped tightly together. "Allow us to assist you! Let us join your ranks and help you on your quest!"

Rosalinde's eyes widened at her request but quickly softened as a gentle smile played across her lips. "I would be honored to have such courageous souls beside me." She mused softly, her voice full of kindness. "And I'm certain the rest of the resistance will feel the same way."

The gryphon rider smiled broadly at those words "Thank you!" she replied enthusiastically. "We won't let you down!" she assured them.

Chief looked between the group before finally speaking again, "I'll inform the resistance forces." With that, he turned on his heel and marched off back towards where Lhinalagos was waiting with the rest of their men.

"So, you were once thieves stationed in Cornia... but now fight for Elheim?" Lhinalagos remarked with a hint of skepticism, his eyes narrowing slightly at the duo.

Gammel shrugged nonchalantly while Mandrin crossed his arms and leaned back against a building. The small town was now bustling with activity once more, the residents of Yanis having returned to their daily lives after the news of the Resistance's arrival was made known, and their intentions explained.

The purple-haired man waved his hands about. "Well, we've always been good boys deep down!" he mused in a light tone, his gaze flicking between the active town square and the elven commander.

"But after a run-in with some kind-hearted knights of Cornia... they convinced us it was better to fight for something other than ourselves..." he trailed off with a wistful sigh. His eyes drifted towards the sky as if recalling some distant memory. "We figured, why not try our hand at being heroes? You know?"

Mandrin rolled his eyes and shook his head. "He's romanticizing the whole ordeal..." the archer grumbled.

Lhinalagos simply stared blankly at them for a moment before letting out an exasperated sigh. "Well, regardless of your past, I am grateful for your aid." he admitted reluctantly, glancing back at the town square, "And it seems the people of Yanis are as well."

Celeste and Rosalinde strolled up to them from behind with baskets of fruit and bread in their grasp. The blonde gryphon knight beamed brightly, "We've been able to gather quite the supplies for your forces," she chirped happily, setting down her basket next to Lhinalagos.

Rosalinde set her basket down and stretched slightly "Not just food either," she mused with a slight smile. "The townspeople have been very generous with their support."

"The slavers up the road in Kiulkukka will be taken completely by surprise, I bet," Celeste remarked, her face lit up as she looked around for the large armored man that accompanied the dark elf.

"Ter Rosalinde, where has Master Chief gone?"

The Augur gazed about for a moment, then sighed gently, shaking her head, "He's probably off making sure we're not being spied on..." she murmured, brushing a lock of her teal hair out of her face. "Always so diligent and alert."

"The star knight is certainly dedicated to his cause," Lhinalagos mused with an impressed look upon his features. "I've never seen a man more focused on a single task before. It's remarkable really..."

"Star knight?" Both Mandrin and Celeste questioned curiously at the same time.

The commander gave a small nod and glanced at the duo, "Yes, Master Chief is from beyond the stars above." he explained in a casual tone as if it were common knowledge. "So says Ter Rosalinde anyway..."

Gammel perked up with interest, "Wait wait..." he held up his hand with a puzzled expression. "You're saying that big guy... Is some sort of god?" he questioned with wide eyes.

Rosalinde giggled softly and shook her head. "Not a god, no..." she mused, "But he is most certainly special."

The trio seemed to share an incredulous look as they stared at her, before Gammel finally spoke up again, "So what makes him so special then?" he asked in a skeptical tone.

Checking one of his arrows idly, Mandrin glanced up at the dark elf, "Besides being tall and strong-looking..."

The Augur's smile only widened further "I suppose you'll see soon enough..."

Nodding in agreement, Lhinalagos crossed his arms, "Speaking of which, we must prepare to march on Kiulkukka." He stated firmly, turning to address Celeste and Gammel. "Will your forces be ready to move out shortly?"

The gryphon knight nodded and flashed the commander an assuring smile, "Absolutely!" She spoke with confidence, glancing over to her other two companions. "Right guys?"

Gammel grinned widely and gave a thumbs up while Mandrin simply nodded back in affirmation.

The elven commander cracked a small smile and bowed his head lightly towards them, "Excellent." He turned and walked back into the crowd of people milling about around them.

Resting his back against a tree with his battle rifle in hand, Chief scanned the treeline around him, keeping an eye out for any movement. The rest of the combined forces of Yanis' militia and the resistance were beginning to march out, heading southwest in the direction of Kiulkukka.

Looking down into the town square, Chief watched as the townsfolk said their goodbyes to the fighters, wishing them luck in the coming battle. A few of the women had even gone up and kissed some of the men on their cheeks or hugged them tightly before returning home...

Rosalinde was busy bidding farewell to a few elderly townsfolk when Celeste approached her with the two thieves in tow.

Pushing off the tree and slinging his rifle across his back, Chief began making his way back toward the group; Yanis was a pleasant surprise, and the trio that had greeted them seemed competent enough. But he knew with the loss of this to town, the slavers and any Zenorian forces operating nearby would now be put on high alert.

Watching the afternoon sun slowly rise over-head, Chief set out with the rest of the combined force towards Kiulkukka and to liberate another part of Elheim from Zenoira.

Chapter Text

Crouched low between some bushes, Rosalinde peeked over a fallen log, her gaze scanning the thick woodlands ahead of her.

Around her, other elves and humans did the same thing, all keeping their heads low and staying hidden amongst the brush. Their eyes peered through the undergrowth for any sign of movement beyond the dense treeline.

"The path leading to Kiulkukka's entrance should be just up ahead," The dark elf whispered softly, pointing her staff towards a small clearing not too far off.

Lhinalagos knelt beside her and nodded silently before motioning to Mandrin with his hand. The archer quickly rose to his feet and moved quietly forward, making his way toward the clearing while everyone else remained still.

After a minute or two, he returned with an all-clear signal.

The commander let out a sigh of relief "Alright..." he murmured, standing up slowly as he looked around at those gathered around him. "They don't know we're here yet."

Rosalinde nodded in agreement, her ears twitching slightly as if listening intently for something. "Good..." she replied quietly, "Now we just wait for Celeste to return from scouting..."

As if on cue, the sound of wings beating could be heard overhead.

The group looked upward to find a gryphon descending from above. It landed softly nearby, its white and gold feathers gleaming brightly in the morning sunlight.

" Ter Rosalinde, Commander..." Celeste hopped off her mount and strode forward, "You were right about Fort Joperse." She reported with a grim expression. "It's heavily guarded. I saw many patrols and constructed watch towers. They must be expecting an attack."

Rosalinde frowned at this news and crossed her arms, her brow furrowing as she thought. "How many soldiers did you see?"

Celeste shook her head slightly, "It was hard to tell. I couldn't stay too close to risk being spotted." she looked apologetically towards the dark elf. "But by my best guess... at least several dozen of them."

Gammel let out a low whistle, "Several dozen?" he questioned with a doubtful look upon his features. "That's a lot of muscle. And that's not counting what's between the fort and Kiulkukka itself..."

Behind him, Chief spoke out, "This is still the best route into Kiulkukka. And taking the Fort will secure our supply lines."

Jumping slightly in surprise at his sudden appearance, the thief looked over at the spartan before quickly looking back ahead with an embarrassed smile. "Y-Yeah... well..." he trailed off, rubbing his chin nervously.

Mandrin gave a slight shrug and nodded his head. "The Star Knight has a point," he muttered quietly, glancing up at the sky briefly, "It would be wise to take the fort and use it as a staging ground."

Lhinalagos gave a nod in agreement, "The Fort's position between Kiulkukka and Yanis would make it easy for us to reinforce each other should Zenoira try to attack us from either direction," he mused, placing his hands behind his back as he paced around slowly.

"I also saw a heraldry that wasn't Zenorian..." Celeste trailed off in thought, "Twin reapers with scythes."

"Black Talons," Gammel remarked, rubbing the back of his neck. He eyed Mandrin who nodded. "I'm a bit surprised they'd work with Zenoira though."

Rosalinde glanced over at the duo with a raised brow, "Black Talons?" she inquired.

"Bandits that operate around Cornia," The archer began to explain. "They're ruthless and cunning, known for their raids on towns and caravans." He frowned slightly as he continued speaking. "We were their former leaders, actually... that is until we decided to go our separate ways."

The dark elf let out a hum of understanding "Interesting..." she murmured, tapping her finger against her chin in contemplation. "Why would Zenoira be working together with such lowly creatures?" she wondered out loud, looking towards Chief.

The super soldier remained stoic and quiet, his mind already formulating plans and strategies on how best to deal with the Fort. Taking out bandits and slavers was easy enough, but he wasn't alone. He had to take into account the safety and well-being of all the others present.

"I won't take the lowly comment, personally." Gammel piped in, "But if I were to hazard a guess, it'd probably be safe to say Zenoira doesn't have much manpower to spare, and the Black Talons do. Not necessarily experienced troops, but numbers nonetheless... and having a lot of bodies to throw at a problem tends to work."

The dark elf pursed her lips for a moment, then sighed softly, nodding her head in agreement. "You raise an excellent point." she trailed off, glancing at her spartan companion once more. "But what shall we do about it?" she inquired with a hint of worry.

Chief glanced at her, then looked back towards the rest of the group. "We'll have to make sure we're not seen." He explained, "The enemy likely has eyes on the roads and pathways leading to and from the Fort." his gaze flicked toward Celeste, who nodded. "They'll know we're here the moment we step onto those paths."

Lhinalagos nodded along. "True. However, that would mean traveling through the forest and avoiding the road entirely, which will take more time." He crossed his arms as he spoke, looking at Chief. "Unless you have another plan?"

The Master Chief swept his gaze across the group before him, his visor landing on Celeste's mount. A thought coming to mind, "The gryphon." He pointed towards it, "How much can it carry?"

The blonde woman blinked once and looked over to her mount, "Uhm..." she trailed off for a brief moment, her eyes narrowing in thought as she mentally calculated the weight. "I'd say about five, maybe six full-grown men; why?" She asked curiously, glancing back to Chief with a raised brow.

Gripping a large barrel tightly, Celeste's gryphon flapped its wings as it struggled to climb higher into the air. The blonde gryphon knight held onto her saddle tightly, praying that the extra weight wouldn't strain her companion too much. "It's okay, we'll be alright..." She gently whispered to her mount who was breathing heavily as it continued its ascent.

Peering down past the clouds, the two could make out the fort itself, a large stone structure surrounded by a wooden palisade, several watchtowers dotted the landscape around the compound. In the middle of the fortress lay a barracks along with a large pen filled with various animals and people, no doubt slaves meant to be transported Kiulkukka.

The height they had reached would no doubt keep them safe from being seen by the enemy but also hindered their ability to see what was happening below. It was a necessary risk, one that Chief had foreseen.

"Here we go!" Celeste called out, the roar of the wind nearly drowned her words as she kicked the side of the barrel lightly. A warning to her cargo that they would soon be descending upon the Fort. "Brace yourself!"

Feeling a pat on its hindquarters, the gryphon let out a loud squawk of acknowledgment before happily releasing the heavy barrel from its grasp, sending it plummeting straight down into the center of Fort Joprese.

Rosalinda stood beside Lhinalagos and Gammel as they watched from a safe distance away, concealed amongst the trees. Her ruby eyes stared upwards towards the sky above them where a faint speck could be seen high above, descending rapidly upon their target.

Her grip tightened around her staff as she watched the barrel hurtling towards the ground below at an alarming rate, worry creasing her features slightly as she wondered what would happen when it made an impact with the earth below.

"This guy is crazy," Gammel breathed quietly as he stared up at the falling object alongside them. He then smiled widely with a hint of mischief, "I like him."

Inside the fort's walls, the Zenorians went about their daily tasks, some tending to animals while others watched over slaves. The guards on the wall had become accustomed to seeing very little activity around the fort and so many of them slouched over lazily, not bothering to keep an eye on the forest beyond.

So when the sound of something whistling through the air suddenly caught their attention, the guards snapped to their senses and quickly scanned the treeline for any signs of life. What they failed to notice, however, was the large barrel hurtling straight toward them from above until it was far too late.

Slamming into the center of the fort, the barrel exploded with a resounding boom and sent splintered wood flying in all directions, catching everyone completely off guard. Knelt in the center of the impact, Chief slowly rose to his feet, battle rifle in hand as he scanned around himself.

The Zenorian guards stared wide-eyed at the spartan, who stood calmly amongst the chaos, several of them backing away from the epicenter of the crash, unsure of what had just occurred. However, the few Black Talons present immediately charged at Chief with swords drawn and shields raised.

Ducking under a swing of a sword, the spartan spun around quickly, grabbing the bandit by his arm before throwing him into another and knocking both of them down. Spinning back around again, Chief kicked a third Black Talon square in the chest, sending the man stumbling backward into the barracks wall.

With space created between himself and the enemy, Chief zeroed in on the nearest wall and began sprinting towards it, ignoring the javelins and arrows raining down around him from the stunned defenders.

The sound of fighting from outside the fort alerted Chief that his comrades had joined the fray, his part of the plan was almost complete...

Reaching the base of the wall, he leaped upwards and gripped onto one of the crenellations with his free hand. Pulling himself up and over the top of the wall, the Master Chief brought his battle rifle to bear and quickly dispatched the nearest watchtower filled with Zenorian bowmen before they realized what hit them.

Adjusting his grip on the weapon, he aimed at the adjacent watchtower and opened fire, the loud crackle of gunshots ringing out as the bowmen were cut down one after the other.

With the archers now dealt with, Chief turned his attention back towards the rest of the fort where he saw several Zenorians and Black Talons frantically trying to keep the invading Resistance fighters out.

Chief leaped from his perch atop the wall, his feet hitting the ground with a thud as he sprinted back into the fray. Holstering his rifle onto his back, he blocked a strike from a Black Talon's blade before countering with an elbow to the man's face, sending the bandit stumbling backward dead.

Blocking, dodging, and striking, the Master Chief made his way to the gates of the fort, felling all who foolishly ran at him with swords or spears. When he reached the gates he quickly slammed his shoulder against them, forcing the large wooden doors open for his allies.

Rosalinde rushed forward with Mandrin and Lhinalagos hot on her heels, their weapons drawn and ready to engage the enemy. Giving a nod of thanks to the spartan, they and the rest of their men flooded into Fort Joprese. The battle quickly turned in their favor as more and more of the fort's defenders fell to their blades or magic.

"Keep your eyes peeled! They might be hiding more reinforcements inside the buildings!" Gammel called out as he charged in behind the others.

Rosalinde nodded silently as she blasted a Zenorian with her staff, sending him flying back into a wall with a sickening crunch. "Remember to watch out for slaves!" She shouted over her shoulder at her fellow fighters.

The sound of combat filled the air, swords clashing against shields and armor while spells and arrows flew through the air at blinding speeds. Rosalinde could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins as she fought against her enemies without mercy. The very thought of freeing more of her countrymen from slavery fueled her drive to keep fighting.

The dark elf spun around another corner just as a large brute of a man came barreling towards her, his face covered in bloodied bandages. He roared angrily and swung his axe wildly, narrowly missing the Augur , who quickly leaped backward to avoid the attack. The Black Talon was about to swing again when Celeste's gryphon dropped down from above and sank its claws deep into the bandit's back.

"Thank you, Celeste!" The dark elf breathed heavily as she gave a small bow of gratitude to her ally. She watched as the gryphon knight nodded before taking flight once again and barreling straight into another Zenorian slaver.

As Rosalinde continued onward she saw Chief emerge from behind a building with Mandrin close behind him. Both men looked relatively unharmed though the thief seemed out of breath from keeping pace with the spartan. "We've cleared out most of the Zenorians," the Master Chief stated as he approached the Augur, "I saw a small group flee out the back gate; they were heading east towards Kiulkukka."

Lhinalagos jogged up and glanced at Chief. "Which means that they will warn the rest of their forces about our presence here." He ran a hand through his silver hair anxiously. "We need to hurry if we want to catch them off guard."

"Uhh..." Gammel piped up, approaching the small group and pointing at the entrance gate, "Looks like some nearby forces were already warned and are now rushing towards us...!"

Through the open gate, the sounds of heavy footfalls could be heard drawing closer to the fort. The first of what appeared to be dozens of mounted riders burst into view and made straight for the entrance.

"Damn it! We don't have time for this!" Lhinalagos hissed as he reared back and drew an arrow on his bowstring.

Running up to the walls, he, Mandrin, and the other archers aimed the incoming cavalry.

Kicking up a spear from one of the fallen bandits, Chief grabbed it and spun it around himself as he prepared to meet the charge head-on. His mind raced as he calculated the best course of action.

The thunder of hooves roared across the battlefield as the first wave of horsemen closed in. Master Chief’s visor locked onto their leader—an imposing figure clad in sleeveless black armor, silver linings tracing its edges like veins of molten metal. A massive, battle-worn shield covered one arm, while the other brandished a brutal axe. Curved horns jutted from his helmet, giving him the appearance of some monstrous warlord carved from legend.

Chief moved without hesitation. He hefted his spear, muscles coiling, and then let it fly like a javelin. The weapon sliced through the air with deadly precision, a streak of steel against the backdrop of the frenzied charge. But the leader was no mere brute—his eyes flicked up, tracking the projectile, and at the last moment, he tilted his head just enough for the spear to sail past. A second later, a scream split the din as the weapon buried itself in the chest of a cavalryman behind him, sending the doomed soldier crashing from his mount.

This one had skill.

Even as the spartan braced himself for the oncoming horde, a sharp cry rang out. "Loose!" Lhinalagos’ voice carried over the battlefield, followed by the hiss of a hundred arrows cutting through the air. The rain of death fell upon the horsemen, catching many mid-gallop. Cries of pain and alarm erupted as men twisted in their saddles, clutching at feathered shafts buried in flesh. Some toppled from their mounts, their bodies crushed under iron-shod hooves. Others slumped forward, lifeless, while the luckier ones veered off-course, their momentum shattered.

Yet not all fell to the ambush.

The leader, his shield raised to catch the deadly barrage, pressed onward, unfazed. A handful of his warriors followed suit, their determination unbroken. Their charge did not waver.

With a savage roar, the warrior swung his axe the moment he reached Chief, the weapon slicing through the air in a vicious arc. Chief reacted instantly, pivoting out of its path. As the axe head swept past, he shot out a hand, seizing the man's armored forearm in a vice grip. With a sharp twist and a powerful yank, Chief unbalanced him, tearing him from the saddle. The man crashed onto the ground with a heavy thud, his weight sending up a cloud of dust. His horse whinnied and bolted in panic, hooves drumming against the earth as it fled the chaos.

The remaining cavalry surged past, locked in their own battles, leaving the spartan and the Zenoiran to their duel.

Groaning, the armored warrior pushed himself to his feet, his glare like smoldering embers beneath his helmet. “You’ll pay for that,” he spat, venom dripping from his words. Adjusting his grip on his axe and shield, he squared his stance. “I’ll take your head and mount it on my wall!”

The man lunged with renewed fury, his swings wild but powerful, each one aimed to cleave through the spartan’s defenses. Chief blocked the strikes with calculated precision, his MJOLNIR shielding absorbing the impacts. Then, in a single opening, he struck—his fist pistoned forward, slamming into the warlord’s gut with bone-crushing force.

The result was instant.

A wet, sickening crunch. Armor crumpling inward like foil. The warlord choked on his breath, blood spraying from his lips. His eyes went wide, his body convulsing as the shock overtook him. Staggering backward, he collapsed onto his knees, trembling.

Chief wasted no time. He stepped forward and drove his fist into the man’s skull. Bone shattered like brittle stone. The warlord crumpled lifelessly to the ground. Around them, the last of the cavalry was being picked apart by Rosalinde and her forces.

The first stretch to Kiulkukka was clear... for now.

Chief surveyed the fallen Zenoiran leader at his feet. This warrior had been no mere grunt, but a commander in his own right. A warrior of status. And although he was dispatched swiftly, his presence alone indicated a greater force was nearby.

"A dark knight of Zenoira..." Rosalinde murmured as she stepped forward to examine the body. "A skilled warrior to be sure." She turned to look up at Chief with a small smile. "I'm impressed you managed to take him down so quickly."

Gammel let out a low whistle as he crouched beside the fallen warrior, his keen eyes sweeping over the intricate black armor now marred with dents and blood. With a casual nudge of his boot, he tested the weight of the metal plating, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Well, you don’t see that every day," he remarked dryly, tilting his head in mild admiration. "These guys weren’t just your average foot soldiers. This was elite."

The gathered resistance fighters murmured among themselves, a mix of awe and unease rippling through the group as they took in the sight of the slain Zenoiran warrior. Moments later, the rhythmic beat of powerful wings announced Celeste’s arrival. Her gryphon descended gracefully, talons sinking into the soft grass as it touched down. The great beast lowered its head, allowing its rider to dismount with practiced ease.

As Celeste landed, she barely spared the corpse a glance before her mount did, the gryphon stretching its neck forward to give the lifeless warrior an inquisitive sniff. A deep, uneasy frown crept across her face as she reached up, running a soothing hand along her companion’s feathery crest. "This doesn’t bode well for us..." she murmured, more to herself than to anyone in particular. Her grip tightened slightly. "Why would Zenoira send their best all the way out here? A heavily armored strike force at a backwater fort like this… it doesn’t add up."

The purple-haired thief leaned back on his heels, arms folding over his chest as he took in her concern with a lazy shrug. "Probably because they don’t trust the Black Talons or their slaver lackeys to get the job done," he mused, his tone light but his expression anything but. His black eyes flicked toward the fallen warrior again, the casual demeanor failing to hide the tension creeping into his posture.

Rosealinde lifted her gaze to her star-knight. Chief remained still, a silent sentinel amidst the murmuring resistance, his visor scanning the field with mechanical precision. The weight of their next move hung heavily in the air.

"There will most likely be more of them at Kiulkukka, won’t there?" Rosealinde’s voice was quiet but firm, the solemn edge in her words betraying what they all already feared.

Chief gave a small, resolute nod. "There isn’t much time to lose," he agreed, his tone leaving no room for hesitation. He turned his attention to the approaching figure of Lhinalagos, his stance shifting into something even more authoritative.

"Get your men ready," he ordered, his voice carrying the weight of command. "We have to act fast if we want to catch the enemy off guard."

The elven commander nodded firmly, his face set in a stern expression. He turned away from them and began to bark orders to some of his men who had been watching from the sidelines, sending them scattering like autumn leaves.

The moment of quiet contemplation ended. The fight was far from over.

Chapter Text

Blades clashed, arrows whistled through the air, and spells exploded in a symphony of violence. The clash echoed across the road to Kiulkukka, where two armies were locked in combat.

Master Chief moved through the melee with precision, his movements fluid and precise as he felled Zenorian slavers and Black Talons that stood between them and their destination.

"Loose!" Lhinalagos bellowed over the battlefield, signaling a volley of arrows to rain down on the enemy. The projectiles soared overhead, their deadly points glinting under the sunlight before plunging deep into the ranks of the opposition.

Rosalinda, her face set in grim determination, channeled her magic into spell after spell, hurling gusts of wind that knocked enemies off their feet and sent them tumbling. Beside her, Celeste's gryphon tore through the battlefield in a fury of talons and beak.

Gammel danced through the fray with his knives, his movements lithe and precise as he struck at vulnerable points—throats, armpits, gaps between plates of armor.

Beside him, Mandrin let loose arrow after arrow with deadly accuracy. Each shot found its mark, sending another enemy to the ground.

The resistance surged forward, their blades and spells finding purchase in the enemy lines. Their ranks were bolstered by a few freed slaves from Fort Joperse, who fought with newfound vigor for their homeland.

As the battle raged on, a small camp of tents that served as a checkpoint between the Fort and Kiulkukka was up in flames, burning out of control as the fighting neared to town's gates.

Chief had been through many battles. Some against alien foes hellbent on destroying humanity, others against pirates or insurgents looking to seize power. And while he'd studied many forms of combat throughout history, medieval warfare with magical elements was not something he ever thought he would experience.

Yet here he was.

Amid a chaotic fray of blades and spells. It was a stark contrast to the high-tech weapons and advanced armor he was used to, but it didn't diminish the brutality of it all.

Arms in front of him, Chief ran through an ice spell, shielding himself from the blast, feeling his armor grow cold as he charged toward the sorcerer that cast it. With alarms blaring in his head and frost covering his form, the spartan grabbed the witch by her arm, a little pressure applied, and a loud snap could be heard before she screamed in agony, dropping her staff.

Throwing her aside he picked up her staff and slammed its end into an advancing Zenorian's face, breaking his nose with a wet crunch and sending him sprawling back. With a twirl of his newfound weapon, the spartan smashed the staff against the downed soldier's skull, ending his suffering.

Shields recharging and alarms ceasing, Master Chief dropped the broken staff and marched onward, his sight set on Rosalinde, who was blasting Zenorians left and right with wind magic. The dark elf had been holding her own quite well against the enemy, even though she was outnumbered, her magic was strong enough to keep them at bay.

In Kiulkukka, seven dark knights stood at the gates that led out into the road leading towards Fort Joperse. Their horses snorted impatiently as their riders gazed off into the distance, their eyes scanning the horizon with wary gazes.

A scout stood by the lead rider, his breath ragged and heavy as he had run non-stop from where he was stationed. "The camp's gone, Lord Aegir!" He breathed out heavily. "Our forces have either fallen back or are being killed as we speak!"

Lord Aegir frowned beneath his helmet, turning to look at his fellow dark knights.

"What should we do?" One of the knights asked in a deep, gravelly tone. His head tilted to the side inquisitively. "Do we hold our positions here? Or retreat?"

"We ride forward and squash them." A third knight stated firmly, drawing a murmur of agreement from his comrades.

"Then we ride." Aegir nodded in agreement, "We'll show these dogs what it means to defy Zenoira."

Catching his breath finally, the scout stepped forward with a panicked expression on his face. "Wait! There's more!" The man pleaded, "The Augur of Elheim was seen among their ranks..."

One knight, a woman by the sound of her voice, let out a snort of amusement. "A what?"

Aegir glanced at the other dark knights around him for a moment before returning his gaze to the scout. "The Augur... Are you sure?" He asked, his tone carrying a hint of skepticism.

The man nodded vigorously, his eyes wide as saucers. “Certain! I saw her with my own eyes!" he exclaimed, " Her aqua hair was unmistakable!"

Aegir remained silent, contemplating this new information for a long moment. The Augur... If they could capture her, it would be quite the victory for Zenoira.

"I'm surprised you can tell the difference between any of these savages..." The female knight remarked dryly, eliciting a few chuckles from those present.

The scout shook his head vehemently, his brow furrowed in determination. "It's her! I swear it!"

"The last of the elven royal family would be quite the trophy, no?" Another knight spoke up, their tone thoughtful as they rested their hand on their chin. They received a round of agreement from their peers.

"Then we must capture her," Aegir declared decisively, "We'll bring her back to the capital and be rewarded handsomely."

The scout's expression faltered slightly, a look of uncertainty crossing his features. "She isn't alone..." He added, "She has a knight with her, wearing strange armor unlike any I've ever seen."

"What manner of knight?" Aegir asked, his voice tinged with a hint of curiosity.

The man hesitated for a second, his gaze darting around nervously. "He's huge," he continued, his voice trembling slightly. "As big as a lion bestral, and strong too. He tore through our men like a beast."

One of the knights laughed loudly at this. "A bestral? Really?" he scoffed dismissively.

Aegir ignored the jibe, his attention focused solely on the scout. "Is that so..." He mused, a faint smile forming beneath his helmet. "Perhaps we'll get more out of this battle than we initially expected."

Pulling his mount's reins around and kicking it in the sides, the dark knight leader began to march his mount down the path.

A call from behind stopped them however, the leader of the Black Talons, Cesar, ran up towards them with a few of his men. "Wait what about protecting the town?!" the bandit cried out, "We need every soldier here!"

The leader of the dark knights stared at the bandit, a sneer forming beneath his helmet. "Our mission is not to protect you or your little operation," he sneered coldly, turning away from Cesar. The rest of the knights following suit.

"You're on your own, little dog..." Aegir called out as they rode away, "Live or die. It's no concern of mine..."

Pushing their advantage, the resistance forces soon overtook the Zenoiran checkpoint that was set ablaze, driving the remaining forces further back.

"Looks like they're retreating into town!" Lhinalagos called out from atop a hill as he surveyed the battlefield below.

Chief nodded silently. "We need to move quickly," he stated firmly. "If we give them time to regroup, they'll launch a counteroffensive."

Lhinalagos agreed, giving orders to some nearby soldiers who nodded before running off towards their comrades to relay their orders.

Rosalinde walked up beside Chief and placed her hand on his shoulder plate. "We're almost there..." She murmured, her eyes fixed determinedly ahead at Kiulkukka. "Just a little further now..."

The Master Chief looked down at her and nodded once more. "Let's go."

The resistance forces moved out, making their way through the ruined camp of tents and supply wagons. They could hear shouting and commotion coming from within the town's walls as they approached closer to Kiulkukka.

"They know we're here," Rosalinde noted grimly as she glanced around at the scene before her. The sound of horses whining reached her ears and her eyes snapped up to see dark shapes galloping towards them in formation. "Dark knights!"

Chief tensed, readying himself for another fight as he scanned their approach. Seven black armored warriors, each atop a horse, were charging directly at them with weapons drawn.

Any retreating Zenorians or Black Talons stopped at the sight of their approaching allies and immediately turned back toward the resistance forces with renewed vigor.

Rosalinde cursed under her breath as she saw this, knowing full well that their situation had just gotten much worse. "Damn it all!" She hissed angrily before turning to her star knight beside her. "Chief, do you think you can handle—"

"On it," he stated, cutting her off as he began running forward to meet the incoming riders.

Aegir and his fellow knights charged towards the ragtag group of rebels with ruthless determination. Their steeds snorted heavily as they thundered across the battlefield. Axes slashed left and right as they tore through the scattered resistance fighters in front of them.

One unlucky fighter screamed as an axe blade cut straight through his body before he was sent flying backward from the force of impact. Another fell when a shield slammed into him at full speed, breaking bones with a sickening crunch.

The dark knights roared furiously as they trampled over the fallen bodies beneath their warhorses' hooves, leaving behind a trail of death in their wake. They had almost made it through the center of the resistance when they saw it.

It...? No. Him.

The huge warrior from the scout's report barreled towards them with purposeful strides. He wore strange armor, unlike anything they had seen before. It bore no decorations, only smooth plates that glimmered under sunlight. His face was covered by an opaque visor that seemed to reflect everything around him like some kind of mirror.

He carried no shield or weapon besides a strange contraption on his back. He simply ran headlong into their formation.

"Crazy fool!" One knight spat, "He thinks us to be common cavalry!?" He laughed loudly at the thought of such a thing as he urged his horse forward with a kick. "I'll enjoy squashing him!"

"We take this one down and the Augur is ours for the taking!" Another bellowed with a grin.

"Then we shall make quick work of him!" A third cried out triumphantly.

The others roared in agreement and spurred on their mounts even faster. Their hearts pounded in unison like war drums beating wildly within their chests.

The Master Chief sprinted forward, his legs pumping furiously beneath him. He could feel every muscle in his body tense and flex with each step, pushing himself harder and harder as he closed in on his targets. His visor zoomed in on the approaching horsemen.

Seven knights rode towards him in formation, three columns of two, with the lead rider taking point. Exactly like the dark knight he had faced at Fort Joprese, each knight was covered in heavy plate armor and carried shields and axes.

They charged directly at him with murderous intent. But unlike a normal man, Chief didn't flinch or even slow down—instead, he increased his speed until it seemed as if he were flying across the battlefield.

Closing in on the knights, the spartan leaped high into the air. The lead knight's eyes went wide beneath his helmet as the super soldier descended upon him, raising his shield to block just as the behemoth's fist slammed into it.

A loud clang rang out as metal collided with metal, denting the shield and sending the knight and Chief down to the ground below, causing the horse he was riding to rear back and neigh loudly before running off.

The Master Chief rolled away from the downed rider and got to his feet just in time to dodge another knight who rode past him. His axe narrowly missed the spartan's head as it swung wide.

The rest of the knights broke off, circling him and preparing for another assault. The lead rider staggered to his feet with a groan, dropping his shield and shaking his hand to get feeling back in it.

"Who..." The knight panted heavily, glaring up at the armored behemoth through narrow slits. " Who do you think you are?!"

Chief didn't respond, he merely shifted his stance slightly, readying himself for another round. His motion tracker showed movement behind him as one of the knights broke formation and charged towards his blind spot. The Master Chief reacted instantly, ducking beneath a horizontal swing from the knight's axe.

This pattern repeated itself again and again as the knights circled him like sharks, each taking turns striking at the spartan from different angles. Each time, however, he managed to evade their attacks or parry them away with his armored gauntlets. It became clear to all present that this was not a mere soldier but rather something else entirely...

"Lord Aegir! What are your orders?!" A knight called out from atop his mount, "This is no ordinary warrior!"

The leader in question had finally recovered enough to take stock of the situation around him, "Attack together!" He ordered loudly, "We'll overwhelm him with our numbers and cut him to pieces!"

The knights roared in approval and spurred their horses forward. The circle enclosed tighter around the spartan who seemed unconcerned by the development, standing perfectly still in the middle of the circle.

When the circle finally enclosed fully around him, the six knights brought down their axes in unison. Hitting true, their axe heads all slammed against Chief's armored forearms which he crossed in defense.

Bending to one knee, Chief gritted his teeth as he held back the combined might of the dark knights attack. The ground beneath his feet cracked from the immense pressure being exerted upon it.

"What manner of man is he?" A knight asked in disbelief, "His strength is incredible!"

As if to answer his question, Master Chief's arms shot outward, knocking away their axes and sending both horses and knights tumbling in different directions. Falling to the dirt with cries of surprise or pain.

The spartan stood tall once again and turned his attention towards the leader, Aegir. The knight growled under his breath as his brethren slowly got back to their feet around him.

"What sorcery is this?!" He demanded angrily as he readied his axe again. "No man should possess such strength!"

The super soldier said nothing, instead taking a step forward and assuming a combat stance once more.

"Enough games!" A female knight called out as she got up to her feet and readied herself, "We finish this here and now!"

The knights roared in agreement as they charged towards their opponent. Master Chief remained still as they drew closer and closer, readying his body for action.

Aegir swung his axe down but Chief sidestepped it easily, slamming his shoulder against the dark knight's side and knocking him off balance. The spartan then spun around dodging two more strikes from incoming knights before kicking another away with his armored boot, killing him.

"Damn it all! What kind of hellspawn is this?!" A knight cursed loudly as he brought his axe crashing down. The spartan caught it with one hand while grabbing hold of the man's arm with another and twisting it viciously, causing bones to snap and pop loudly beneath his armor.

The knight screamed in agony as he dropped his weapon into the spartan's open palm. Chief quickly lifted the axe up and over his head before slamming it down onto the dark knight with a sickening crunch.

Without wasting a single motion, Chief pivoted around and drove his heel directly into another knight's helmeted head, neck-snapping instantly upon impact with the force of the blow. His body flew backward with a loud thud before hitting the ground limply, blood pouring out from beneath his helmet.

"Die you cur!" A third knight shouted furiously as he swung his blade at Chief's back only for the spartan to turn and bend forwards beneath his attack before feeling the knight slam into his back. Picking the man off the ground, the Master Chief flipped the dark knight over himself and slammed him down into the earth.

Before Chief could finish him off, he was forced to roll away from another swing by Aegir who roared angrily at the spartan.

"I will not be defeated by some faceless demon!" He shouted angrily, swinging his axe wildly. "I'll rip your head off and display it on a pike!"

Chief dodged his swings before catching his wrist mid-swing and pulling him close, "You're not getting a trophy today."

With assistance from the female knight, the dark knight who'd been thrown to the ground managed to stand up, both now charging at Chief's exposed back.

The spartan, however, didn't need to turn around to block their axes. Instead, a blast of magic from the skies struck both knights down, sending them to their knees with cries of pain.

Chief and Aegir looked skyward to find Rosalinda gripping Celeste's waist as they flew overhead on her gryphon. The dark elf smiled smugly at the sight below before throwing down an additional spell, striking at another one of Aegir's men, killing him instantly.

The dark knight captain let out a low growl of frustration as he turned to face Chief once more. His reflection distorted and twisted through his visor. He felt rage well up inside himself, boiling over in his veins like molten lava.

Struggling in his grip, Aegir threw a punch with his free arm, this too was caught by the spartan.

Then, without hesitation, Chief yanked both of Aegir’s arms forward, dragging the knight off balance. In a single, brutal motion, the spartan drove his helmeted head forward. The impact was sickening. A resounding crack echoed through the battlefield as metal crumpled like paper. Aegir’s helmet buckled inward, the steel folding under the sheer force of the strike. Beneath it, bone shattered, a sharp, wet crunch signaling the fatal blow. His body sagged instantly, the life drained from him before he even hit the ground, crumpling into an unmoving heap at Chief’s feet.

Chief surveyed the scene around himself, the resistance was able to push back the second assault and were now making their way towards the gates of Kiulkukka.

With the dark knights routed and most of the forces dealt with between the fort and town, the resistance made quick work with the remaining slavers and Zenoirans in the town proper. Freeing more slaves who, in turn, fought for their freedom as well.

Cesar crumpled to the ground, a wet gurgle escaping his lips as Gammel yanked his dagger free. Blood splattered across the thief’s boots, pooling among the bodies of the fallen Black Talons. He exhaled, surveying the aftermath—twisted limbs, lifeless eyes staring at nothing—before shifting his gaze toward Lhinalagos. The archer knelt beside Mandrin, steadying him as he struggled to his feet.

"Are you hurt?" Lhinalagos asked, his sharp eyes scanning Mandrin’s face, searching for any flicker of pain.

Mandrin grimaced but swatted the concern away with a wave of his hand. "I’ll manage," he muttered, voice rough. He pressed a hand to his side, where crimson seeped through torn armor. The blade had bitten deep, but he’d endured worse. "Save your worry for someone who needs it."

Lhinalagos frowned slightly but didn't argue further, instead turning his attention to the thief beside him. "And you?” he asked, his voice measured.

Gammel flashed a broad grin, his dagger already gliding across a cloth he had seemingly conjured from nowhere. “Never better!” he chirped, wiping away the last traces of blood with an almost careless ease.

Lhinalagos arched a brow. “Not even a hint of regret? They were your comrades once.”

The thief scoffed, rolling his eyes with theatrical exaggeration. “Oh, spare me the sentiment,” he said, flicking the cloth aside. “They’d have gutted me without a second thought if given the chance.” His smirk deepened a glint of something sharp and knowing in his gaze. “And let’s be honest—they had it coming.”

The town of Kiulkukka was now firmly within the hands of the resistance, the slaves freed and Black Talons either dead or on the run.

The Master Chief stood silently amongst the crowd gathered around Rosalinde as she addressed her people, praising their efforts in reclaiming a piece of their homeland and reminding them of the greater goal that still lay ahead.

"We may have taken back this town," She stated, "but we mustn't forget what brought us here. The Empire seeks to destroy everything we hold dear, our homes, our families, and even ourselves if given the chance." Her voice grew stronger with each word, resonating with passion and conviction. "We can no longer afford to cower behind locked doors and hope that they will pass us by without incident. We can no longer afford to ignore the plight of those who suffer beneath their heel."

Her eyes met every member of her audience, piercing through them with an intensity that burned like wildfire. "We can no longer afford to stand idly by while innocent lives are lost to tyranny!" She shouted fiercely, drawing cheers from her comrades.

"Every day that passes under Zenoria's rule is another day our people remain oppressed! Another day where children cry out for their mothers only to be silenced forever! Another day when fathers mourn for sons slain in battle! Every single one of us here has felt loss at some point or another due to these barbarians' actions..."

She held up her fist defiantly towards the sky. "But I say enough! It ends now!" The dark elf cried out, her voice ringing throughout the town square. The crowd roared with approval at her words.

"We will drive out every last one of these invaders until there are none left standing between us and freedom! Until all Elheim is free once more! No matter how long it takes or what price we must pay along the way!"

The people erupted into cheers again as Rosalinde lowered her arm and turned away from them, stepping down from her makeshift podium. She approached Master Chief who remained silent during her speech. "You know what happens next right?" She asked him quietly as she stood beside him.

The spartan nodded slowly but said nothing else, simply watching over the jubilant crowd before them.

This wasn't the end of their fight, not by a long shot. They had only just begun...