Warrior’s Stride

The urgency of the situation escalated rapidly: halting the catapults became their top priority. Luckily, the enemy had deployed only two of these siege engines, but even that number was more than sufficient to dismantle Dante's modest castle. Losing the fort meant failing the Quest, with dire consequences looming on the horizon—perhaps even a dreaded "Game Over" scenario and whatever that entailed.

The challenge was significant; reaching the catapults, positioned strategically at the rear, was no simple feat for Virgil, especially with the battering ram demanding attention as well. Dante, spurred by necessity rather than indecision, quickly chose to target the catapults first. There was a slim window of opportunity before the battering ram made contact with the gates. Moreover, Virgil could potentially neutralize the skeletons operating the ram en route to the catapults, thereby halting their advance.

Complicating matters further, the enemy had deployed two siege towers. These hulking structures, while slow in their advance toward the fort, played a pivotal role in the skeletal army's siege tactics. However, rather than being aggressively pushed forward to breach the fort's walls directly, these towering constructs served a different, albeit unintended, advantage for Dante and Virgil. 

By opting to use the towers primarily as elevated platforms for their archers, the enemy inadvertently slowed the overall pace of their assault. This tactical choice, while enhancing the skeletal army's ability to shower Virgil and the fort with arrows, paradoxically played into Dante's hands by delaying a direct breach of the castle's defenses. This unintended consequence, a stroke of luck in the grim tapestry of war, afforded Dante and Virgil precious time—a silver lining in what could otherwise have been a swift and brutal overrun of their position.

With only the battering ram and the catapults left to contend with for now, Virgil sprang forward. He crossed the battlefield, navigating through the chaos with quick movements. He avoided arrows and fought skeletal soldiers, making his way through the fight effectively. When Virgil got to the battering ram, he was able to overcome the skeletons operating it with efficient and precise strikes, quickly defeating them.

The journey to the catapults, however, introduced a new obstacle: a barricade defended by a phalanx of skeletal spearmen. This strategic arrangement underscored the undead army's tactical acumen, deliberately positioned to block access to the siege engines. The spearmen stood their ground, weapons poised to deter any advance, reminiscent of a porcupine's quills bristling against a threat. 

Virgil, confronted by a significant challenge, moved through the formation with careful and exact movements. He targeted weaknesses in the enemy's defense, using his staff effectively to break through the spearmen's lines. After a relentless battle that pushed Virgil to the limits of his capabilities, he broke through to the catapults. However, the launch of another boulder towards the fort served as a stark reminder of the siege's relentless pressure.

"Damn," Dante cursed under his breath, feeling the walls of his small bunker tremble violently, the booming impact threatening to leave him temporarily deaf. "This shitty fort won't hold much longer," he thought anxiously, tension mounting as he considered the likelihood of the next shot breaching their defenses.

Meanwhile, Virgil hadn't paused in his relentless advance, finally reaching the catapult. It was lightly guarded, mostly by a few skeletal soldiers and the skeleton crew operating it—essentially the medieval equivalent of tech support, but with less complaining and more bone-rattling. Virgil, with his usual efficiency, made quick work of them, then turned his attention to the siege engine. Armed with his newly upgraded level 5 staff and bolstered Might from his enhancements, he struck the catapult's critical points with such force that it began to fall apart. The ease with which he dismantled the machinery was a testament to both his strength and, frankly, the catapult's questionable craftsmanship.

Just as Dante was prepping Virgil for their next target, an unexpected challenger emerged. Instead of a group of skeletal spearmen, they were confronted by a single skeletal knight—the commander had decided to make a dramatic entrance. 

This wasn't a typical skeleton; it was clad in full steel armor, somehow managing to wield both a halberd and a shield simultaneously. The real showstopper, however, was the mount it rode: a skeletal horse that was both terrifying and impressively majestic.

Virgil could feel it in his bones—so to speak—that this knight was different. The enemy had clearly mastered the first realm of weapon mastery, making him a formidable adversary. The skeletal horse added an extra layer of dread to the knight's already intimidating figure. Virgil knew this duel would be more than just clashing weapons; it was a battle against a true warrior.

When Dante 'saw' the enemy commander through his connection with Virgil, a jolt of tension ran through him. Facing an entire army and their siege weaponry was daunting enough, but now they were up against a commander who looked capable of going toe to toe with Virgil in his current state. "So much for a conquest quest! Looks like it's going to be over before it even kicks off," Dante joked, his words dripping with irony that belied the gravity of their situation. However, a closer look into his eyes would reveal a fire that contradicted any notion of surrender; they were ablaze with determination, searching for a sliver of opportunity in the direst of circumstances.

Dante's thoughts whirred with the accelerated speed granted by his Mystique stat, zipping at a velocity no ordinary human could match. He was convinced there was a piece of the puzzle he was overlooking, a key strategy that could flip their fortunes. But what could it be?

Then, in a flash of insight fueled by the very essence of conquest itself, it dawned on him. If this was truly a conquest quest, then surely, he needed an army, forces to command—right? There had to be a mechanism for such a strategy within the game. With this realization, Dante mentally rifled through potential commands, searching for anything that might unveil a management screen or similar interface.

"Eureka!"

He had done it; before him lay a vast screen, sprawling with options that seemed to encompass every conceivable aspect of kingdom management. The display was split into three main sections:

Infrastructure

Resources and Management

Army

Dante's eyes darted across the screen, trying to absorb the flood of information. The sheer volume was overwhelming, bordering on the absurd. 

The Infrastructure section was a treasure trove of absurdly grandiose options. It offered everything from the trivial, like selecting the perfect shade of decorative paint to give the throne room that 'ominous yet welcoming' vibe, to the outright extravagant, such as the installation of a deluxe, state-of-the-art sauna in the underground chambers—because what's a dark, foreboding fortress without a spot for relaxation and detox, right?

But the crowning jewel of absurdity was the bakery option. For God's sake, it even listed a bakery! A fucking bakery! In a world where the living envied the dead's quiet, here was an option to fill the air with the smell of fresh bread. Because, obviously, what every skeleton army on the brink of conquest really lacks is a good sourdough starter.

Under different circumstances, he might have succumbed to a fit of laughter at the absurdity of it all. But the pressing urgency of their situation left no room for humor. With a mental shake, Dante bypassed the temptation to delve into the intricacies of Resources and Management. His focus finally settled on the Army section.

***

Alice, of course, had never "seen" anyone fight before, but something told her that what she was witnessing was far from ordinary. Thaleia's combat style possessed a grace and flow, reminiscent of what Alice imagined the wind or water would be like. It was, somehow, pleasant to watch, if one could, of course, overlook the severed heads and the spurting of blood.

Alice thought that her bland view of killing might stem from the fact that she couldn't hear it, and secondly, that all shapes and colors were completely new to her. Thus, she regarded the blood with the same indifference she would a rock in the middle of the path. It evoked no emotions in her.

As she observed the battle, she noticed a notification on Thaleia's screen. 'Well, look at that, another nice surprise,' she smiled.

Enlightenment gained: Basic Mastery of Warrior's Stride (Rank 1)

-Awarded for reaching the first realm of proficiency in the Warrior's Stride

-Effect: +10% Finesse

Title gained: Basic Footwork Mastery (Rank 1)

-Awarded for gaining basic mastery of any footwork style

-Award: +5 Finesse

'It seems The Game is not stingy with its titles,' Alice mused, considering all the factors that could significantly affect the overall power of a character, or perhaps most entities in this new world. 

The concept of titles and enlightenments had been briefly mentioned by Lumière, who only noted their existence and the boosts they provided. He explained they could be obtained through feats or by gaining an understanding of a certain concept, respectively.

Alice saw in Thaleia someone who already possessed this understanding, both of the sword and of this footwork, before coming here. Apparently, The Game had awarded her these titles only when she demonstrated her skills in combat. But if The Game could peer inside everyone's mind, why would it wait to award the titles until after she showed her skills, rather than granting them from the outset? Perhaps the test was twofold: knowing and showing.

"Well, that was refreshing. Finally forced to move a bit," Thaleia smiled and stretched her body. "I feel like my body is even lighter. Nice exercise," she mused. Just then, she noticed the prompt. "Oh, that's why."

"Another amazing performance. Well done."

"You flatter me, Seer. That was just a warm-up," she grinned, but the pride was evident in her words. "Any kid from my tribe could take these buffoons down with nothing but a stick."

"It is a shame I cannot meet your tribe. But who knows, this world holds many mysteries and possibilities. Maybe seeing them again in the future is not totally impossible."

Thaleia gazed at Alice, her eyes clouded with a mix of worry and a deep, unspoken nostalgia, as if the mention stirred memories of her people she feared she might never see again.

"Thank you, Alice," she murmured, her voice carrying a tremor of longing and the silent hope of reunion.

'Such basic patterns in human nature,' Alice tilted her head and flashed a refreshing smile.