Arcadia's Ignoble Knight: The Sorceress Of Ashtown Chapter 8
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It wasn't long before the bandits, or whoever these cloaked people were, began descending from the cliffs. It was hard to determine at this distance, but from the way they scaled down the sheer face with large leaps, Caspian suspected they were using some kind of grappling system, even though he could not see the lines being used. His eyesight, keen beyond anyone else he knew, only had perfect vision at a range of about one and a half kilometers.
Not that how they got down was important. At least not to the average joe currently sitting on board the train.
The sight of over a dozen figures decked from head to toe in all-encompa.s.sing outfits that disguised even their gender and brandis.h.i.+ng weapons sent all of the regular people into a panic. Since pretty much everyone on the train was just a regular citizen and not a trained warrior, that meant a lot of people were freaking out.
Caspian was probably the only person on the train who wasn't hyperventilating at the sight awaiting them just outside of the window and closing in fast. Yet just because he wasn't on the verge of panic didn't mean he knew what to do. Naturally, he wanted to take the fight to the enemy and all that, but there were way more of them than there were of him. He had to be smart about this.
He also had to consider the civilians. They needed his protection. However, there was a lot of train to cover, and he couldn't be everywhere at once. That meant he had to decide who needed to be protected first. For most people in his position, n.o.bility would get first priority, but Caspian had never been one to distinguish people by rank or lineage. There were more commoners on this train than n.o.bles, which, to him, meant the common folks needed more protection.
It was still a difficult decision to make.
"Ha... times like these make me wish I had some kind of doppelganger ability." Those Sorceresses really didn't know how easy they had it. How convenient was it to have the ability to summon and form contracts with spirits in exchange for incredible powers?
I could use... no. Caspian dispelled the thought. I don't need it.
Well, there was nothing to be done about that. He wouldn't use magic, but that was okay because he had a sword, which he did not hesitate to pull from its sheath. A good thing he did, too, because just a few moments later, the outer wall of the train car tore open like aluminum foil and two of the cloaked figures flew in on swift feet.
Caspian clicked his tongue. "Tsk."
Like those strange automatons he'd heard so much about, the heads belonging to the cloaked individuals swiveled to look at him. Caspian froze. For one second, his mind blanked as he tried to think of what he should be doing in a situation like this. Fortunately, while his mind might have fritzed like a piece of MagiTech suffering a power surge, his mouth hadn't.
"I really hope you guys plan on fixing that wall, because I doubt this train will be moving until all the damage is repaired, and I really do need to get to Ashtown soon."
The two cloaked figures looked at him for all of one second before charging. Huh. It looked like these two weren't fans of pre-battle banter. Well, fine. He didn't need to rile up his opponents to gain the upper hand all the time. Besides, they might be fast, faster than him even, but they were confined to an enclosed s.p.a.ce. Speed of movement meant nothing here. Speed of reaction was where it would count.
As the two closed in, the one trailing in the back leapt up along the wall and used the muscles in their legs to run up the wall until they were rus.h.i.+ng along the ceiling. That was certainly new. He'd never seen anyone do something like that before. Weren't there supposed to be laws that kept people from doing stuff like defying gravity, or did these people have the ability to defy the natural laws that governed the cosmos?
Meanwhile, the other one had already closed the distance between them and attacked with a series of quick slas.h.i.+ng motions using only their left hand... which just so happened to have a clawed gauntlet attached to it.
How did I miss that?
Caspian was so shocked that he almost tripped over his own two feet. Only his innate sense of timing, reflexes and countless sparring sessions allowed him to raise his sword and deflect the swift series of attacks that followed.
Backpedaling, because he had no intention of letting himself get sliced apart like grated cheese, Caspian avoided the claw swipe. At the same time as he put some distance between himself and the claw wielder, he brought his sword up to block the weapon aimed at piercing his throat, as the one running along the ceiling launched themselves from above, descending upon him with the fury of a fallen spirit.
As sparks flew and the clang of metal against metal resounded throughout the train car, he got a good look at the other weapon being used to attack him. The dagger being used was rusty and old, worn and jagged, its blade more akin to a double-edged hacksaw than a knife. It certainly didn't look like something he'd want to be stabbed with.
It looked like these were just ordinary bandits, then, as no true warrior fought a battle with rusty weapons. Even if one of them did move about like a monkey and the other had a giant claw attached to their left hand.
"Woah!"
Caspian ducked to avoid having his eyeb.a.l.l.s impaled by a large claw. The swift movement was quickly followed by a downward swipe from that same clawed hand, which he was forced to avoid by rolling backwards along the ground. As he came up onto his feet, the dagger wielder was immediately in front of him and attacking with violent thrusts and swipes.
Bringing his sword up, Caspian twisted his blade in a clockwise motion, deflecting the dagger that came close to impaling his left eye. He lashed out with a low kick, hoping to sweep his opponent off their feet, but the wily individual leapt backwards.
Okay. So maybe they aren't complete amateurs.
Gritting his teeth, Caspian moved back yet again, as the one with the clawed gauntlet appeared before him seemingly out of thin air and tried slas.h.i.+ng him to ribbons. He quickly realized that they had used the other attacker's cloak for cover, sneaking up on him from below while he was preoccupied with the dagger wielder.
Twisting his body kept Caspian from having his stomach sliced open and his organs spilling to the carpet, but it was a near thing, and the dagger tore apart the front of his s.h.i.+rt, ripping through it like Davidé Gorossolaine ripped gas. He forced them both to back off by recklessly swinging his sword in a spin maneuver, but he knew it wouldn't keep them back for more than a second or two.
Caspian breathed heavily as he warily eyed his opponents. Sweat dripped down his bangs and stung his eyes, but he refused to wipe it away. These two worked very well together, like a well-oiled machine, and if he wanted to have any hope of surviving, he couldn't afford to take his eyes of them for even a second.
With narrowed eyes, Caspian decided to weather their initial onslaught and hope for the best. If he could just keep his cool and find a weakness in their movements, then he could strike at them when they least expected it. That was the plan anyway.
It was just unfortunate that these two didn't seem to have any openings he could exploit. Or rather, they did, but he couldn't exploit them because they covered each other weaknesses so well. Whenever one attacked, the other was there to defend and visa versa. Making matters worse was the fact that he was being pushed back. In a matter of moments, he would be pinned against the door leading to the next train... car...
Wait. The next train car? That's it!
Moving backwards at a much quicker rate, Caspian was soon pressing his back against the end of the car; the car door, to be precise. The two cloaked figures were still charging at him, heedless of the danger they were in. Didn't they know that a beast was at its most dangerous when cornered? He wasn't some kind of rabid animal, but that didn't mean it wasn't an apt a.n.a.logy.
He would just have to show them the error of their ways.
Just like last time, the dagger wielder attacked first. Leaping against the wall and using it to push themselves through the air at an incredible speed. Caspian watched them, his hawk-like eyes narrowed in concentration as he timed their movements.
Not yet. Just a little closer. NOW!
Acting with haste, Caspian opened the door behind him and ducked low, allowing his dagger wielding attacker to soar over his head and through the door. A simple, but effective plan, if he did say so himself. Not to mention unpredictable, which was always a plus. Who in their right mind expected to be defeated by something as inane as a door being opened?
Before the dagger wielder could regain his or her senses, Caspian shut the door behind them and twisted the lock. That should buy him a little bit of time, which he would use unhesitatingly to dispose of the figure wielding the clawed gauntlet.
The claw wielder was already on him by the time Caspian had turned his attention away from the door, but this time, he was ready, and without the dagger wielder covering his enemy's flank, this battle was as good as over.
When the clawed gauntlet came in to slice his face apart like a knife peeling potatoes, he used the flat end of his blade to knock the clawed gauntlet aside, causing the arm to go wide and the figure to stumble forward. He then reversed his grip on the handle and thrust his pommel into the cloaked person's face.
The attack was good. Better than good. Caspian could tell from the way his foe's face gave in, not to mention the crunching sound that followed, that he'd broken this person's nose at the very least. Now to finish them.
Taking a single step forward, Caspian grabbed a handful of the person's cloaked with his free hand, spun about, and threw them over his shoulder in a powerful toss. The person landed on their back and lost all the oxygen in their lungs, signified by the loud expelling of air. Before they could recover, he was there, straddling his or her waist, his fist raised above his head seconds before it was brought down with incredible force.
Gravity is kind of funny in that there are several naturals laws governing it that all things, be they living or otherwise, must abide by—Spirits and Sorceresses being the exception rather than the rule. One of those laws is that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
When Caspian gave his attacker's face a swift jab with his right hand, that individuals head was launched backwards, swiftly and brutally. As there was not much room for the head to move, this meant their cranium smacked against the floor, with Caspian's attack being powerful enough that their skull dented the metal beneath the layer of carpet.
The person underneath him went limp, his or her body visibly slackening, clearly unconscious. Caspian breathed in a deep sigh of relief. Sweat trickled down his brow, which he wiped away with a hand.
That had been way too close for comfort. He'd almost been gutted several times during that fight, short though it was. Who knew there were people who could move like that? He certainly hadn't.
He looked at the figure beneath him, but before any thoughts could be placed upon the person whose block he'd just knocked off, the sound of shattering gla.s.s drew his attention to the next threat.
It was the dagger wielder. They had leapt in through the window, gla.s.s fragments raining upon the floor around them as the two figures landed in a low, almost animalistic crouch.
Knowing that he needed to finish this quickly, Caspian rushed toward the figure just as the two stood up. He moved into their guard with a few quick steps, blocked their hasty attempt to finish him off via a dagger to the face, and then smacked the underside of their chin with the pommel of his blade. The sound of a jaw clacking shut was swiftly proceeded by the cloaked figure falling backwards. They hit the ground with a dull thud and remained still.
"Ha... ha... ha... phew..."
Caspian panted as he stared down at the unconscious figure, slowly regaining his normal heart rate. His initial a.s.sessment was right. While they were excellent together, alone they were much easier to deal with. That did not mean the fight hadn't been much harder than he thought it'd be, though. They had been good. Really good. Bandits weren't normally this good at fighting, were they? No. He'd fought that one group of would-be bandits in the past and they had been pitiful. So then, just who were these people and what did they want?
He knelt down next to the figure and pulled off the hood hiding their face.
He blinked.
"That... is not a bandit," he mumbled to himself. The unconscious figure before him looked rather ordinary, plain even. He didn't have any of the scars or the craggy, beaten skin most bandits and highwaymen had. Judging from the slightly weathered tan and the laugh lines on his face, this man was probably a farmer. He even had a tan-line where his straw hat would normally sit on his head.
Checking the other person revealed them to be a woman of indeterminate age. Again, she did not have any of the identifying marks found on most bandits. She was just a plain, ordinary-looking female, slightly pudgy, with a round face and the same laugh lines around her eyes and mouth as the man.
Caspian stood to his feet, his mind in a state of confusion, struggling to comprehend the incomprehensible sight before him. However, as he listened to the sound of screams coming from the next train car, he knew that he couldn't afford to stand around and think about this. Yet even as he ran toward the panicked cries for help, his mind continued to wonder...
What the heck is going on here?
Arcadia's Ignoble Knight: The Sorceress Of Ashtown Chapter 8
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Arcadia's Ignoble Knight: The Sorceress Of Ashtown Chapter 8 summary
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