Challenged (Part 5)

SIA:

As the enemies took up positions on the other side of the field, I looked back at the Maidens as they adjusted and dressed their ranks.

Then silence fell. A silence that was broken by Sir Liam, who walked to the middle of the field and said, "As long as you do not permanently injure the other person, you are free to do whatever you want to the other side. Now, your battle will start the moment that I step out of the field."

Then, looking at both sides, he grinned with schadenfreude as he slowly walked off the field.

As we stared at each other from across the field, I felt the familiar burst of adrenaline that spiked within me before each fight, before each battle, and I savored it.

My limbs felt light and jerky, as though they couldn't wait to raise my sword and bring it down, rending shield and armor alike.

In fact, why don't I?

Ripping out the sword from where it hung on my waist, I raised it up and pointed it toward our enemies, and I said nothing.

But the Maidens understood everything.

With a roar, they unsheathed their own weapons, and then they angled themselves forward, and they waited.

They waited for me… to set them free.

And so I did, as I brought my sword to my lips and kissed it before I took a step forward.

Behind me, the Maidens also stepped forward.

Then I took another step, and the maidens followed. And another, until we had broken into a jog and we were the first ones to pass the middle, as Sir Liam watched on from outside the field.

We would take the fight to them. For we planned to bulldoze them… and demolish them thoroughly.

In front of me, the enemy also moved into a jog as they advanced in one block, which I saw was roughly the same size and depth as ours.

I didn't look back, but I knew that a solid block of men and women 10 wide and 5 deep were behind me.

Or they would be 10 wide and 5 deep as I stopped my jog and stood in place, letting the ranks pass me by, enveloping me inside.

Hidden in the middle of the Maidens, I moved back to a jog as we closed within 40 paces of the enemy.

Then, with a roar, both sides charged at each other.

10 paces away, and the hunting team which made up our side files of the ranks, split apart to the left and right as our center thinned and our 10 wide and 5 deep ranks became 8 wide and 5 deep which even as I calculated, spread out to turn into 10 wide and 3 deep as another 10 from the construction team joined the lightly armed hunters as they raced past to extend diagonally from our front line like two outstretched arms while the middle ranks flowed toward the gaps left by both teams.

5 paces away, and our center braced for impact as the combat and training team in the front surged forward with a final sprint.

Supporting them were the weaving team, the tailoring team, and the cooking team.

Eyes as wide as they could be in the helmet that restricted my vision, I took in every detail before the clash of shield on shield, armor on armor, and body on body indicated the press of battle.

There was no battle cry. There was no shouting. There was only the sound of grunts sounding out as men and women battered against each other as they jostled for positioning.

Then a shout did come, but heart sinking, I saw that it was from the rear ranks of the enemy, who hefted the baling blunt arrows like javelins, and let loose at our ranks.

Caught unawares, the Maidens instinctively raised their shields to block the harmless rain of arrows, and taking the opportunity, the enemy ranks parted and four figures came sprinting through as they gleamed bronze in the sunlight, and they stabbed forth like four fingers into our ranks.

Behind them came more enemies as they widened the breach, and suddenly our neatly dressed ranks were peeled apart and the enemies were among us, hacking away.

"Maidens, Melee! Melee! Melee!" I bellowed out as I watched with clenched teeth as Marrok shot toward Ares, and Faust charged toward the unfamiliar boy.

That left me and the tailoring team to deal with Damon and Celine, who advanced as they cut down the weaving team who were less experienced at combat than the rest.

With a shout, I led the tailoring team toward what I thought was the weaker target. Celine.

Only to watch, stunned, as my sword was parried, and Celine's sword knocked against my helmet as I jerked my head to the side.

Dodging back for a moment, all I could feel was dizziness.

Biting my tongue, I came back to myself, and I narrowed my eyes as I stared at the girl, who looked back at me with dull eyes.

Then sound began fading, people began dwindling, as blood pounded in my ear, and the familiar surge of warforce filled me up to the brim.

Letting it surge out of me with a shout, I charged at Celine, intent on putting her down as fast as I could.

Block, lunge forth.

Failed… she'll try for an overhead slash. Raise shield, catch it, and push back.

Lunge again.

Bal. She's quick on her feet.

Time… time… I don't know what's happening.

Change attribution to speed? Abandon defence?

No, caution. You don't know what other cards she has.

But the battle?

You can't win the battle if you get put down.

Twist, twist, twist!

Watching the sword pass by my nose, I turned back with a growl as I brought my shield back in for a bash with the momentum of the twist.

As Celine dodged to the side, I continued with the bash with a burst of warforce fueling me as I barreled toward my true target… Damon.

Damon, who was right now tangled with Marana, who was twirling the axe in her right hand as she hacked and cut single handedly at Damon, who was giving ground as he blocked with his shield and vainly attacked with his longsword.

At the last moment, Damon saw me, but it was too late for him.

My bash hit him from the side as he dodged a blow from Marana's axe and he staggered back to his original position, opening up his guard for a brief moment and creating an opportunity, one which Marana didn't miss as she brought her axe from the underhand position it was in, straight into a sweep that cracked on Damon's other side

Then, it was my turn to dodge as Celine swung her dagger frenziedly at me from behind, and I gave ground as Marana pressured the injured Damon who still fought on doggedly as blood leaked from his mouth, and the poor quality armor fell off his side in fragments.

Stealing a glance at the battlefield, I felt hope surge within me as I saw our wings stab into the enemy rear lines and turn inward.

"Twenty men and women in their back lines, we have a chance," I thought.

Only for two figures on either side of the wings of the enemy rear lines to charge at Celsus and Apollo.

"Bal," I spat out as the four figures began gleaming in a dull bronze color.

I'm sure Apollo also spat out a few curses as his daggers came up to block the flurry of blows that his opponents unleashed.

Meanwhile, Celsus continued his charge, only to grind to a halt as his two opponents joined their shields and blocked him.

Swallowing, I could feel the battle spin out of control.

We were the challengers, and now it seemed that we were found wanting.

We had become the challenged, and not in a good way.