380Book II: The King's Dilemma
Chapter 55
In the first place, she didn't remember her name, much less her life before Salem.
The Goddess had granted her a new purpose.
The eye was one of the most vulnerable areas of the human body.
That was why the younger Schnee sister was taken aback at how much it hurt.
Of course, Discordia only knew because the same had happened to her. The Goddess had taken her eye.
The fear of not knowing whether or not she had lost her eye—it consumed the girl, just as it had consumed her.
"Now you'll look just like Cinder!" Discordia cackled.
The girl was shaken.
Yes, the Lower Apostle Two could see it.
The uncertainty of not knowing whether or not her eye was gone. It rattled the girl.
Even though she was a huntress, they had the luxury of almost never sustaining an injury.
Almost.
The younger Schnee sister was a promising huntress, but she would have to end that here.
-o-o-o-
She… couldn't see with it? She didn't dare to look.
Weiss snapped back to reality. She was slashed. The visor of her suit was broken. Was her eye gone?
No, it was still there. Her aura, combined with her visor, had saved her at the last moment. But she couldn't see. Why couldn't she see?
And it was painful.
An intense, strange pain she'd never experienced before.
Soon, the numbness went away, and she cried out, using her movement glyphs to take more distance.
That pain… it was probably going to get even worse, right?
With just one eye, her depth perception… how long… could she keep on evading?
She didn't know.
She—she couldn't see with it.
Weiss snapped back to reality. That was right. She was hit.
Her right eye was hit. She couldn't see.
Huh?
Why was she—
At a time like this, was she actually thinking about what life would be like? Thinking about how she'd spend her daily life with going blind in one eye?
That intense pain…
The unexpected presence of the whip's lengthening was a sudden attack that came with facing something new.
She wasn't as experienced as her older sister. Her mind wasn't as transcendent; she was not as hardened, she hadn't seen nearly the same amount of battles.
No, there was a difference. Weiss Schnee had seen her fair share of battles.
But she had not seen her fair share of casualties. Of injuries, robbing rending skin to flesh and bone to shards. Of death.
This was the first serious injury that Weiss Schnee had sustained. It was different from the scar now over her left eye.
Her daily functions would be impaired.
This first-time experience had shaken Weiss' spirit profoundly.
Yes, compared to her elder sister, she was still just an innocent teenager, thrust into the role of a huntress and a Seraph. It was understandable that she would be shaken, confused, and terrified.
The fact that her feet didn't stop—even unconsciously—probably saved her life.
If it was Winter, she wouldn't be this shaken… damn it!
Calm down, calm down. Sharp, quick breaths caused her chest to heave.
Calm down!
Why was she so rattled? The eye wasn't even gone!
It hurt… it hurt so much.
Winter placed herself between Weiss and the Apostle. The Maiden, floating slightly off the ground, pointed the tip of her remaining sword at the Apostle. Even now, her big sister was shielding her, standing tall and brave while Weiss cowered behind her. It was no good. She was a liability.
"Discordia, it seems you're misunderstanding something."
Discordia was confused. "Hm? And what is that?"
"Did you not realize it? Although you think this battle is two against one… it has always been one against one."
One against one.
In other words, this was… "Winter Schnee and Discordia's battle."
That's what she was saying. Big sister…
Was she trying to draw Discordia's attention toward herself?
She bit her lip hard, something welling up in her chest. She was no good. She came to help Winter, but ended up dragging her down…
"Weiss and I are together as one. From the very beginning, we sisters have always fought together. This battle has always been one against one, and nothing has changed. Together, we will defeat you."
The pure conviction in Winter's voice was akin to knowledge rather than belief. Winter offered her an uplifting smile.
Tears welled up in her right eye. The pain—it blew away somewhere. Along with the fear.
Yes.
"W-Winter…"
Yes, how had she forgotten? Just as when they were kids, her elder sister blew away all the bad feelings. Like a refreshing, cool breeze.
"Weiss, can you still go on?"
"…Ha ha… yeah, of course. You know it, sister."
She managed to lift the corners of her mouth into a faint smile.
"Thanks, you saved me."
"Don't be foolish. It's me who's being saved by you."
Reunited with her sister, Weiss remembered how, as kids, Winter would always help her in times like this.
That sibling bond. Even after Winter left for the military, this was proof that that affection, that sibling bond, had never disappeared.
The trembling, the shaking, all of it vanished. With just a word from her sister, she had somehow managed to regain her composure. Weiss adjusted her body's stance slightly.
She didn't know if it was scientifically valid. However, it felt like the distortion in her depth perception was slightly better. It might have just been a placebo though.
On the other hand—
The Lower Apostle Two, who appeared to have stopped moving, was muttering strange things under her breath. It was as if she had received some profound inspiration, standing still.
"Oh, the dazzling, the brilliance… kill… happy… sibling love… happy bond…"
The final eight minutes, where death was an ever-present threat, began.
She kept track of the ever-moving whip and tentacles. During an exchange, the Apostle attempted to shuffle the sashes and whip so as to confuse them, but Winter interrupted with a pressurized wind, at the exact moment of the shuffle.
The grasp she had on her Maiden powers was slowly increasing. Discordia abandoned the attempt.
It was clear now that Discordia was targeting the elder Schnee sister. She had judged her as the key player.
Weiss Schnee couldn't function without her elder sister. Did she read it that way?
This battle—if her sister was taken out, she'd naturally win.
However… Weiss wouldn't let her have her way. Winter and her were one and the same.
Ice poured from Myrtenaster, but suddenly, more than half of the sashes were directed her way. It was all she could do to avoid contact.
One barely grazed her chin, and she felt a tiny bit of aura slip from her.
Weiss gritted her teeth. That parasitic semblance… what an incredible semblance it was!
Her defense had to be so intensely spotless, even breathing felt vulnerable. Instinctively, she found herself holding her breath more and more.
It was suffocating.
Even though the battle was unfolding at such a high speed… it felt like she was fighting underwater.
But she had to draw Discordia's attention properly. She needed to make her recognize Weiss Schnee as a threat.
She had to fulfill her role.
She shouted. "Over here, Discordia!"
But the Apostle didn't even look back. The chaotic barrage of strikes moved in every direction.
Thanks to her military training and her innate ability to anticipate, her sister managed to avoid fatal wounds, conserving her aura.
But… Winter, she was trying to keep a calm face, but, little by little, every strike and hit forced her to a predetermined position. Every time, Discordia's strikes came closer and closer to their target. Winter defended swiftly with her winds and ice, but wherever she was able to damage the Apostle, Discordia's regenerative healing ability recovered. Against such an impossible opponent, how were they supposed to defeat her?
Just as she had concluded before, the only way was a decisive blow. But Winter couldn't deal that decisive blow unless Weiss properly played her role, to draw the attention of the Lower Apostle Two.
Flames came from her rapier, and Weiss furiously pressed against the Apostle, attempting to properly draw her attention this time. But the flames didn't do much to scorch the hide, and soon enough, Myrtenaster's chamber clicked empty.
She moved backward to avoid the backlash of the sashes, using her high-speed glyphs to her advantage once again.
If things went on like this, they would be the ones to lose.
Time felt so long. This condensed moment, this space where they were dancing on the edge of death…
If only she were stronger, if only she were more brilliant, she could draw Discordia's attention more effectively.
Why was she so weak?
She felt like a goldfish, gasping for air. Even though Winter was bearing most of the attention and the majority of strikes, she was still struggling.
It was infuriating. Every attack, her ice shards, her dust combined with glyphs, it didn't work.
She couldn't speak. She couldn't get the words out.
But her big sister… she clearly understood what had happened.
Winter smiled. As if to reassure her.
"Leave it to me."
She said it with her calm eyes. She gave her another look and gesture.
"I'll handle it."
But that was not enough.
Sensing the weakness of the younger Schnee sister, Discordia pressed forward, while ignoring the barrage of cold flames that Winter unleashed by directing some of them toward that infallible defense.
The whip, the sashes, a never-ending cycle of attacks that she had to keep up with, that she had to keep evading and parrying with Myrtenaster…
But her movement was once again predictable, and—
A strike to the solar plexus. Then to the femur. And even though the suit protected her skin, it was malleable, and the impact transferred into her internal organs. Several things cracked and broke—she cried out as the sashes latched onto her torso and slithered all around her, entrapping her.
The feeling of her broken body, her aura being drained in this strangely cradling embrace… it was so, so wrong! Everything, her aura, her energy, it all seeped out of her body in a process beyond her control, beyond her will. Her suit was the only thing that protected her, but even that was barely a comfort. And that same unbearable, sharp pain and agony in her blinded right eye returned.
It surged, stealing her breath and silencing her thoughts. She couldn't see anything beyond the crimson blur staining her vision.
No, it couldn't end like this.
Abruptly, a voice cut through the haze, but she couldn't hear what it was saying.
Suddenly she saw her elder sister approaching, a determined expression set on her pallid face. Her eyebrows were drawn together in that same confidence that Weiss always saw and idolized as a child. Her sister raised her sword above her shoulder and with one powerful, downward stroke…
Emboldened by the freezing flame which sheathed it, Winter's blade cut through the sashes that had latched onto her, smoothly, like a knife through hot butter. The sashes severed from her body. The Apostle looked shocked.
Using her high-speed movement glyph, Winter grabbed Weiss, cradling her body in her arms, and took some distance from their enemy.
Weiss' heart pounded as ragged gasps escaped her lips. Winter had cut through the hide.
She had never been able to do that before. What was it? A new level of understanding?
"I'm sorry for leaving you. All those years ago." Holding her, her elder sister murmured gently to Weiss. "I'm sorry. I ran away without thinking about the consequences. I'm sorry," she repeated.
"You, who came all this way…" She felt the weight of Winter's soft gaze, "Just at the mention of Atlas under attack. To save me, who abandoned you. You're foolish."
"Am I not supposed to care about my sister?" Weiss half-snarked, half-coughed. Her sister frowned at the sight of crimson bubbling from her lips.
"Save your breath," Winter scolded. Weiss couldn't help but smile.
Her sister, always the one looking out for her because their parents certainly weren't. Her sister, who felt guilty for abandoning her. They were reunited here, now. And despite the state she was in, she was grateful for it.
The feeling of her cold body being cradled against her sister's warm arms like she was a child again. A person without responsibilities. That same warmth bloomed in her heart. She was glad.
"You shouldn't have been involved here in the first place. So, just let Big Sis handle it from now on."
Weiss nodded weakly as Winter set her down.
"I won't let you down again."
-o-o-o-
In front of her eyes, the true Winter Maiden had emerged.
The key to this sister pair was Winter Schnee. Discordia was convinced of this.
If the elder sister was killed, this battle would be over. She could cut both of them down.
Of course, it was much harder than anticipated. A newly initiated maiden was still a maiden, after all. It would be many months before the full potential bloomed—
Parasite was inactive for several minutes since the blow she had dealt to the younger Schnee sister. However, it seemed that the sisters did not know about the deactivation time of her semblance. Their information was incorrect.
Thus, a bluff.
She had to evade every one of her limbs. But her blade, coated in a blue flame, was now able to cut through her sashes.
Splendid, Winter Schnee.
Discordia retreated slightly, wielding her whip. Of course, that exchange had not gone entirely her way.
There were slight marks of blood appearing across her arms. Small gashes caused by the whip, whose tip had penetrated through the thin aura.
Huntresses were so used to fighting with aura, without a real sense of danger. All pain they received was only mental—not physical, lasting wounds. But it was different here. The possibility of death hung over her.
However… despite receiving numerous injuries, Winter Schnee's determined expression remained almost unchanged.
It wasn't as if Winter felt nothing. Winter did not entirely lack the ability to feel pain.
Every time she sustained a cut, there was a slight reaction from her. As long as pain receptors existed, people couldn't completely ignore it. Pain was a part of a person's instinct—one that warned of "danger to life."
On the other hand, after becoming an Apostle, Discordia's feeling to pain had almost completely dulled. That was why she had to develop an alternative—the ability to sense danger.
Just earlier, she had closely observed Winter, whose edge of her ear had been torn by her whip.
When the ear was cut, she did react. She certainly had a reaction.
Even a person with formidable mental strength wasn't exempted from such an instinct.
But in Winter Schnee's case, this reaction was surprisingly weak. In other words—her will and spirit were in an extraordinary realm.
She was excessively persevering, her focus and mind sharpened to such an extent that she had this level of control over her instincts, to an extreme degree. Almost to the point where instinct didn't take precedence over will.
That extraordinary mental strength was dazzling. She had to witness it to the end, when she killed her.
The Maiden surged forward, unleashing a certain wave of ice. Discordia blocked with her sashes.
It was a mistake. The ice was biting, colder than the tundra of Solitas, the northernmost continent—even her regenerative factor seemed to slow down.
Snarling, Discordia pulled the sashes back, revealing her main body. She deployed her shield to block Winter's sword. The grating rang out, but her whip wrapped around the sword.
But her opponent seemed to have predicted this; she kicked off her shield, a blue ball of fire streaking toward her face. Forced to draw backward, the Apostle used her whip to parry it away. She managed to get rid of most of it, but some remained, and it bit at her face.
Indeed, it was the first blow that had been landed on the Apostle during the entirety of this fight.
Winter Schnee was on the level of the Invincible Girl at Shion; no, perhaps she was better. That Maiden power that she had so quickly adapted to… this level of growth, it was astounding.
Indeed, Pyrrha Nikos was merely a quarter maiden, whereas the woman in front of her had inherited the full power of the Winter Maiden. She was not to be underestimated.
That immeasurable talent, like a candle, emitting light, yet flickering here and there. Before the candlelight grew stronger… the Lower Apostle Two would extinguish it.
How dazzling that candlelight was.
-o-o-o-
Ironwood exited the vault empty-handed, save for the small remote that controlled the protective sphere currently surrounding Atlas, which was carefully placed in the inside pocket of his suit jacket. At the moment, the entrances to the sphere were open, as Ironwood wanted to see for himself what the status of the battle was. It was better to keep the Staff in the vault, where he was sure no person with ill intentions could come into contact with it—
There was a strange, absurd movement in the corner of his eye, and like the trained soldier he was, those years of training kicked in and allowed him to leap away.
Something, a harpoon, struck the area where he had been standing, with such incredible force that it indented the metal, before being reeled back.
Quickly he unholstered Due Process, scanning his enemy as he held one half in each hand. One, two, three of them were present. All were wearing a pure, blinding white.
Their faces were covered, but their eyes weren't.
The eyes. Windows to the soul, they were wild, like those of an animal. No, there was not a hint of human in those eyes.
Ironwood activated Steeled Resolve, the metal skin quickly slithering across his body, in addition to the body armor he already wore. It was similar to the nanobot suits they had developed for Perseus and co—in fact, his semblance was what the researchers had tried to emulate—but the protection remained superior in all testing. Semblances couldn't yet be fully and completely copied by even the most advanced technology.
His mind sharpened at the same time, the primary effect of the semblance taking shape.
"Who are you? Surrender yourself to Atlas at once. If you refuse, we shall not spare you one iota of mercy." Ironwood spoke confidently, but, underneath the facade, he had a sinking feeling that nothing he said would be of any worth. But he needed to stall for time.
An unsettling feeling began to overtake him; how many of them had already infiltrated Atlas? If he had just set up the barrier…
Was he keeping the enemies out, or the citizens of Atlas and everyone else in? Had he, the Protector of Atlas, doomed it?
A nauseous feeling, like a tendril curling in his stomach. If that was true, he had to put an end to this fight as soon as possible, so that he could survey the situation. He scanned their bodies again, but the white cloaks made it difficult to determine just how many weapons they had.
It was a moment before another spoke. "Atlas is falling as we speak. Gaul spreads across the entirety of the continent. The Goddess will not tolerate any other result."
Gaul? What was that?
He didn't have time to fully comprehend the words, as before he could even muster a reply, the harpoon was fired again. He ducked away once more, unwilling to test his semblance, Steeled Resolve, against the full force of the harpoon just yet.
Against just about any other material, Steeled Resolve would have been fine, but he was sure the harpoon was made of tharium. No other metal would be able to damage the interior so easily. The only question was, how did these assailants manage to get their hands on such valuable material!?
And the harpoon-wielding savage was only the beginning of his problems. The other two leaped into action, the three of them forming a three-pronged attack—a trident. He had no choice but to go on the defensive, as he attempted to assess his opponents' weapons and fighting styles.
The one on the left fought ferociously, pressing in with an unrelenting tempo and speed that reminded Ironwood of a particularly brash comrade from his younger days. But now was not the time to reminisce. If the assassin wanted to take the shot head-on, he would have it!
He fired his left pistol two times in quick succession, the gravity dust bullet striking true on the second attempt, pushing the left one back and giving the General breathing room. But to his right, the swing of a large scythe forced Ironwood to backpedal, and the harpoon wielder in front fired twice—somehow, he had a harpoon in each hand!
General Ironwood cursed violently under his breath, turning his torso to become skinny, but in that moment, he became the rabbit ensnared in the hunter's trap.
His compromised position allowed the scythe-wielder and the axe-wielder to lunge at him, one from the right and the other from the left. Caught between a rock and a hard place, he had nowhere to go!
Thinking as fast as he could, he shot the left half of Due Process into the ground, the gravity dust propelling him upward and back. He avoided the attacks just in the nick of time and fired down at his enemies from above. But being in the air was a vulnerable position, especially now that his gravity dust pistol was out of bullets and required reloading.
Two gravity dust shots to the chest, one to the forehead, and several more to the rest of his torso. Ironwood's eyes widened. He was forced to admit that these assailants were no amateurs—they had incredible, almost unbelievable accuracy. And even though his armor took the brunt of the damage, he had no doubt these would be leaving black and purple bruises.
There was no time to call for backup, however. As Ironwood landed, he wasn't given even a second to breathe, as they came at him once again.
Swinging his right arm in a controlled arc, he unleashed a full clip, the pistol managing to find its mark most of the time. There were the first signs of weakness from the intruders, as black blood stained their white clothes.
Wait… black?
He continued to target the dark stains, firing over and over, all while sustaining the attacks by the intruders, save for when the leader fired his harpoons.
This was the benefit of his semblance. Steel Resolve allowed him to take his attention off of defense almost entirely and concentrate every bit of his energy solely on annihilating his enemy.
But despite his laser-like focus on his opponents, he had few advantages in this open area.
One of the intruder's harpoons made contact with the hard-light dust shield that he had activated from his wrist. But tharium was made of a fiercer material than hard-light dust, and the shield caved under the pure force of the harpoon, from near point-blank range.
Skillfully shot between the gap, a second harpoon whirled around the shield, striking his solar plexus; Steeled Resolve caved under the force, his skin rippling inward. And despite his attempt at forcing aura to the region, the tip of the harpoon knocked the wind out of him.
Damnit!
Ironwood let out a loud grunt, almost losing his balance, but no sooner had he taken the attack did another one follow, and then another. He shot fire dust out of his right pistol, hoping that their clothes would catch flame. But the cloaks seemed to be made of a different material entirely, and there was nothing he could do but attempt to avoid yet another attack. With several targets, using the cannon form of Due Process wouldn't prove useful. They had clearly done their intel on him.
If this fight had been in the arena, perhaps he could utilize his superior knowledge of the adaptable terrain as well as the cannon form of Due Process, but as it stood, he would eventually lose this fight. The writing was on the wall. And everyone involved saw it coming.
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Next Chapter: April 15th
-thann