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Varka made first contact, that much was simple and the Racher of Solnari had easily spotted him, his new physical form barely given shape as it held his power together through mere mortal flesh.
Varka eyed the rest of the Knights he brought with him. They lined up on the edge of the cliff, many in number, but hardly enough.
He’d seen what the Racher of Solnari did to the Traveler and Flins. A squad of soldiers, as trained as they were, weren’t nearly enough to take him down but it was their only shot.
The khuuvaki will surge in the next few days, next few weeks. With the new physical body Rerir had, Varka would have to throw everything at him just to take him down.
Varka discreetly guided his team as he talked to Rerir, keeping him distracted.
Rerir held no indication that he had noticed, keeping an angered but restrained tone.
“And who…are you?” Rerir growled, his Abyss power keeping the air dense and chaotic.
Varka felt his own vision ringing in tandem as he approached, his weapons in front of him already prepared.
“I’m Varka, Grandmaster of the Knights of Favonius.”
Rerir’s power erupted, his voice now much less controlled.
“She escaped,” he muttered. “Tholindis…”
Varka had no idea what he was speaking of but barely finished the thought before Rerir charged at him.
The bandaged claws clashed with his claymores, mere inches from where it would’ve torn his face in two. The Abyss energy was noticeably out of control.
“Knights!” Varka called behind him. “Prepare for battle!”
Varka didn’t need to turn to know they were prepared. He trusted them with his life at this moment.
Using leverage, he swung the claymore against that swipe and pushed off Rerir and created some distance around them.
Firearms fire, as well as elemental arrows. Abyss hands sprouted from the ground to easily deflect them. Rerir’s eyes glowed, now taking in the large number of knights that had surrounded the area. It was harder to read his expression but he was no longer calm but no longer chaotic.
He eyed the knights around the cliffside, rolled his shoulder, and took off at incredible speed. He was in the backline in second. His massive figure swept through the terrain, throwing everyone close enough off balance.
Varka could be heard shouting orders over the chaos. The knight remained calm but many held barely disguised panic in their eyes. Others could barely lift their firearms high enough to shoot steady.
Varka cursed under his breath. The frontlines were rushing in to defend the backline.
Rerir blasted another beam of abyssal energy, most dodged, the ones who didn’t paid for it with their life. A ripple of fear washed over his knights. Varka noticed the exact shift, when the smell of blood burned into the smell of ashes. His troops will collapse like this.
He jumped into the fray, keeping Rerir away from his knights. Rerir faced him directly as some of his knights retreated to a safer distance. They clashed briefly, barely enough for it to be called a clash. Abyss claws versus Varka’s claymores.
With each hit, Varka could feel his stamina depleting and his power being overwhelmed.
An abyss hand caught him in the arm just as Rerir prepared to tear his head off.
An ice arrow blitzed through the air, close enough where it nicked off a strand of Rerir’s hair.
A blur of the signature silver, navy blue, and white flashed through the crowd.
“Lohen!” Varka shouted.
Rerir’s attention was temporarily distracted and turned to the small knight. Armed with a spear and a small crossbow on the arm.
His eyes held the kind of power the Abyss power within him resonated with.
“Hey now, big guy.” Lohen said, as if he was talking about the weather. “You can’t kill Varka yet. I haven’t gotten to that.”
Rerir didn’t give him a proper response but his focus was immediately shifted from Varka to the new Knight.
Lohen met Varka’s eyes for a brief moment before giving his mischievous smile.
“Come at me!” Lohen yelled.
Rerir followed. Varka could track them before they were lost in the fray. The pink abyss powers clashed heavily with the shards of ice that pierced through the dry air. As cold as Nod-Krai got, the Knights and Varka felt the air chill a few more degrees.
The 5th Company was following at a careful distance. Varka was being instantly swarmed by knights freeing him from the loosening Abyss hands..
It was only after that moment when Varka realized what Lohen was doing.
“Knights!” Varka called. “Follow Lohen! He’s getting too far!”
Once he was cut out, the abyss hands more or less dissipating on their own, Varka rushed to his feet to confirm his suspicions. That lunatic, he can’t fight the Racher of Solnari alone. This is suicide.
Down the cliff, he noticed them, a blur of cryo and abyss energy.
“LOHEN!” Varka jumped down to them, claymores in hand.
Lohen wasn’t smiling, he was dead serious but it was as if he didn’t register Varka at all. Blood ran down his head from somewhere, the arm holding his polearm was trembling. His other arm was holding it steady as if it were broken.
Abyssal hands once again broke out from the ground.
Lohen slipped through many of them, hard to pin down with his size. One sent him crashing to the dirt and Rerir closed the distance without hesitation, using that opening to his advantage and landing a devastating blow to the side of his ribs.
Lohen had the wind knocked out of him as he was sent flying on the side of the cliff.
His vision blurred, the tall figure of Rerir loomed over him. He felt the sharp claws grip his neck, forcing shallow breaths. The blood had trickled low enough where his lips could taste it. He reached his hands to weakly pull at the large arm holding him up. He didn’t have the strength to even kick his feet, something in his knee had broken in that fight.
Rerir’s eyes shone dangerously. “Any last words?”
Lohen wanted to say something witty. To, you know, put it on his grave or something. But he couldn’t think of anything. His hands were freezing, his vision glowed in desperation as he felt his consciousness slip. His hands didn’t even have much strength left and his spear was kicked somewhere out of reach.
“Sorry…” Lohen rasped out, barely audible.
Suddenly, the pressure on his throat released all at once and the abundance of air made him choke. His body crumpled to the ground, his knee hitting the rocks hard.
He felt some internal part of his torso give into gravity.
Knights surrounded him, Varka among them.
Rerir put some distance between them. What he said afterwards was inaudible but what Varka said was crystal clear.
“Lohen! Lohen…Hey!” Varka tsked under his breath and pointed at a random knight. “You! Take him and fall back!”
The knight obeyed without question. Varka’s attention couldn’t afford to be split but Rerir attacked anyway. The knights split, this time much more coordinated, Varka pushed Rerir back. His orders were law: Frontline knights support the 5th company and the medics. Under no circumstance is anyone allowed to directly fight Rerir.
After the battle between Rerir and Lohen, no one dared question the command.
They didn’t end up pushing Rerir back but his energy source was depleting and he couldn’t afford to waste it on dealing with the Knights. Reluctantly, he retreated eventually just as Varka’s stamina dropped to zero and collapsed on the ground. The dozens of knights active in battle followed in relief though still nervous at a return.
Varka’s eyes swept across his soldiers, the leaders then to the knights under their command.
Lohen…Lohen!
Varka forced himself to his feet, supported by his claymore and vision.
“Grandmaster!” A knight called. “Please rest.”
They hovered over him, almost touching but reluctant without permission.
Varka gritted his teeth. “Take me to Lohen.”
The knights exchanged a look that Varka didn’t have the effort to dissect. There were casualties, some injuries here and there. Some severe, some light. But Lohen…he looked fragile for a moment. And for that moment, Varka thought he would lose him.
Varka was informed by another knight that Lohen was already transported back to camp by a medic. He needed more advanced medication that couldn’t be provided with the simple carry-on first aid kit.
So Varka led his troops back to base, to recuperate. It was a failed attempt and he needed to change his plans but the failure weighed heavily on everyone nonetheless and they needed a few days of rest.
As a Grandmaster, he could hardly push them while they were so shaken from the encounter.
What had he done wrong?
“He’s in here.” A knight opened the flap to a tent.
Varka nodded. “Thanks.” and stifled his face.
Lohen was bandaged heavily. The blood soaked around his head and chest. His neck was fully bruised purple and his arm had a splint attached to it. Everything beyond that was covered with a wool blanket. His lips were split with dried blood though most of it had been cleaned off to the best of the medic’s ability. His breath remained shallow and pained even in sleep.
But for Varka, the worst of all was the stitched scar that clearly ran down from his collarbone to his hip. Carefully bandaged but bleeding all the same.
“Leave us.” Varka ordered.
The knights didn’t question it and he’s glad they didn’t.
He looked at his own hands, a few cuts here and there. His arms barely had any damage dealt to them, merely some bruises that would heal in the next few hours.
Varka approached the bed quietly as if Lohen could be startled awake in his condition.
“Why did you do that?” Varka whispered.
He received no answer but Varka knew the answer anyway.
“I’ll charge in and give my squad the distance they need to do their job.” Lohen had once told him in confidence as if it wasn’t the most absurd thing for the Vice-Captain of the 5th Company, a company that specialized in ranged weaponry, to suggest such a tactics.
Varka had shook his head. “And why would I ever approve of such a strategy?”
Lohen had grinned maniacally though Varka later learned that was just his natural joyful smile.
“You can’t always be our front line and my squad is hardly prepared enough to wield multiple weapons. I think it would expand our squad’s flexibility, no?”
Varka laughed fondly. “Do whatever you want. Just don’t hurt yourself.”
Look where that got you, Varka thought as he held Lohen’s hand in his own, the skin clammy and cold and unresponsive.
“I-” Varka wasn’t sure what he was saying or why he was saying it to Lohen now but the words came out anyway. “I vouched for you to join the expedition against Seamus’ wishes. I wanted you by my side even when my fate was to leave Monstadt in peril. But-but…also because I trusted myself to keep you safe. I couldn’t bear leaving you behind. And perhaps…that was selfish of me…”
Lohen, predictably, didn’t give Varka a response and perhaps that was also for the best.
He could live with his subordinates being injured, maimed, hell, he even expected casualties on this expedition and was ready to lose them all if it meant that Monstadt would be protected in the end.
But after that fight, Varka wasn’t so sure if he was willing to trade Lohen’s life for Monstadt’s safety anymore. Take his own life if the sacrifice was a must, he was prepared for that to be the outcome when he rejected his fate, but Lohen? He was still young, still had potential.
Varka steadied his breathing and exited the tent, the pillar of stability that his knights viewed him as.
“When Lohen gets better,” Varka said, to no one in particular but they all listened to his command carefully anyway. “I will send the 5th company back to Monstadt.”