Kapitel 300: Unwavering Faith
A jagged line appeared across her face. From the upper right of her forehead, down and across her nose, to finish on her left cheek.
The line split open, blood began flowing out of the wound. Tilia winced as her head pounded with pain.
She became unsteady, her focus wavering. This caused her War Sight to fade away, leaving the Knight unprotected.
Her vision began to turn black, her consciousness fading.
~ ~ ~
Clang~
"Oho? You actually moved!"
The Knight wielded a longsword, one they have depended on to keep their body steady. Now they had moved it, all to blocked the dagger's deadly strike.
The Knight spoke in a hoarse voice, "That one, they hold a heart of steel! To protect me while placing their own lives in danger!"
"You would break your deal with the Lord to fight for someone like that?"
"You have come to make sure I break that deal, so I'll follow your wishes. I know the Lord has no intention to follow his word! Therefor, I shall fight!"
"Haha! Then I'll claim your life as I please then!"
The figure moved to the side and thrust his dagger forward. The Knight tilted his longsword and blocked the blow. With a grunt they pushed the dagger upwards, creating an opening.
The figure laughed, "You hold this much strength despite standing for so long!"
The Knight swung diagonally, their movements slightly sluggish. The figure spun around the strike and kicked the Knight, "However it seems like exhaustion is getting to you!"
"[Third Order: Honor's Cross]!"
A golden cross formed and shot towards the figure. It slammed into them, creating wounds across their body.
The figure stumbled slightly with a cough, "Still pack a punch though."
"Haa!"
The figure blocked an incoming swing with their dagger, a metallic sound forming from the clash.
The Knight did not let this hinder them. Sliding their longsword free they continued with several slashes.
The figure continued to block, "You fight with such vigor!"
"To think you follow the order of such a corrupted Lord!"
"We all have to make a living somehow."
"[Second Order: Fallen Heresy]!"
The Knight swung downwards with all their might. The figure jumped back, dodging the strike. As the longsword slammed into the ground it caused the ground to quake.
The figure jumped forward, aiming for an aerial attack. The Knight grunted and lifted their sword with an even greater might, "[First Order: Rising Justice]!
The figure laughed as they changed their position. Clashing with the move directly they were thrown into the air.
"I would hold no chance if you were in top shape!"
The figure threw several knives while falling towards the Knight, "Yet it's a good thing you're not!"
The Knight slashed towards the knives, "[Fourth Order: Guiding Faith]!"
A wave of golden energy diverted the knives away from causing harm. The figure then landed and shot forward. The Knight was in no position to retaliate, for their previous move left them in an unfavorable position. With their exhaustion they were unable to move and defend themselves.
The figure pierced their side with their dagger. The Knight felt his side being torn open. Yet they remained unflinching and grabbed the figure's arm.
"Wha-"
The Knight head butted the figure. Then again, and again. . .
The figure freed themselves, a wound on the center of their forehead, blood flowing down their face.
Despite the wound they chuckled, "The fight is already over. I punctured your lung, you'll die if you continue moving like this. It's too late to get treatment too. I'm well aware of this village's poor healing abilities."
The Knight coughed, blood leaking through the vents of their helmet, "I was going to die long before you stabbed me."
"What?"
The Knight took a stance, golden energy glowing brilliantly around them.
"What do you mean?! Answer me Knight!"
"[Final Order: …]"
The figure shouted, "Are you throwing away your life for a village you barely know?"
"I am a Knight! I protect those who cannot protect themselves! I stand strong for those who are frail! I sacrifice my life for justice! I'll gladly die here if it protects this place!"
"You moron!"
"[Final Order: Unwavering Faith of a Martyr]!"
"These people will never appreciate your death!"
"I stand by what is right! I die for what is right! That is my code! And what is happening to these people is wrong!"
The golden energy skyrocketed, the Knight's grip on their longsword tightened. Memories of their week in the village flashed in their mind.
The doubtful and fearful glances. The terrified people hiding from everyone. The dwarves almost lifeless, working tirelessly to forge weapons.
The warmth they had shown once they realized the Knight was friendly. The genuine joy the kids had when they gathered around the Knight.
Despite their dwindling resources they had not hesitated to feed them. To make sure they were warm.
Such a village with such good people. To be under such torment!
It enraged the Knight!
The fury boiled into power! The golden energy swept across the ground as it grew larger in size! The figure flipped their dagger into a reverse grip and shot forward. They had to kill the Knight before they unleashed the move!
They had no confidence in taking on such power!
They roared, "Die! Die you metal fool!"
The Knight shot forward, "May you fall so this village remains standing!"
The golden energy flashed brightly. As it faded a sad sight was left to be seen.
The figure had a long sword wedged in their side.
The Knight had a dagger in their collarbone.
They froze in this position, like a painter's piece. Recording this moment for the rest of history.
Then the Knight slumped onto their knees.
The figure stepped back, "You died for them. . . you idiot."
"Waaah! Mr. Knight!"
"Mr. Knight!"
"Don't fall Mr. Knight!"
A group of kids stumbled forward in a rush. Tears streaming down their cheeks.
Their parents tried to stop them, but the shock limited their strength.
The figure watched the kids, "There's no point, he's already dead."
"No! Mr. Knight won't ever fall! Not to- not to a coward like you!"
"A coward. . . this is just battle kid. Use everything you can to win."
"Mr. Knight!"
The Knight shuddered and stood. Dragging his feet forward. The figure turned in surprise, holding their dagger to retaliate.
The Knight ignored them, instead he kneeled in front of the kids. They held onto his armor, shaking him with incoherent words.
The Knight spoke, "Do not worry. I'll save you."
"But. . . but you're hurt! Mommy can heal you!"
The Knight gently laid a palm on the kids head, "No, it's too late for that."
"Don't go Mr. Knight!"
"Will you listen to me?"
The kids nodded.
"Then, protect those who are weaker than you. Stand for those who are frail. Become strong and protect this village for me, will you?"
The kids nodded, grabbing onto his armor tighter.
The Knight took a breath, "Make sure you help that one too, she had tried to help."
The Knight pointed to an unconscious Tilia.
"But what about you?"
"Me? I think it's my time to go. Remember what I said."
"Don't go. . ."
The Knight smiled underneath their helmet, it was a shame none could see it.
Embracing the kids the Knight took their final breath. The backlash from using the Final Order occurred and slowly their body turned to dust.
All that remained of the Knight was a helmet and a longsword.
The wails of the kids brought tears to the adults. As many of the villagers mourned the loss of the one who gave their life for them. A Knight they barely knew didn't hesitate to fight for them. To battle against the ones responsible for their suffering.
The figure left silently, dragging along the guards who were dumbfounded from the fight.
What expression was on their face? No one could tell, for no one cared to pay attention.
That night, a grave was erected for the Knight. Their long sword planted into the ground, their helmet on top. They held a small feast, gathering what they had to eat in honor of his passing.
As per his request they laid Tilia on a bed and cleaned her wound. As a person sat next to her as they watched the small feast in quiet.
It was that night the spark of revolution formed in their hearts.
To think it would take the death of a stranger, and not one of their own for it to form. The one who did his best to help their troubles.
It moved them beyond words. Perhaps showing them that, they too, should fight against these atrocities.
But this idea of revolution remained a spark, for there was no one to fan them into a flame.
Not yet, that is.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein