Headed by a Snake
887 The Sick Feeling
Elle didn't have heaven-defying witch powers like Coraline or Mina. She didn't have the courage of Captain Krysaos or the guile of Stickyfingers.
...She had nowhere near Tychon's overwhelming strength.
She had Gaheris.
Gaheris was awesome.
The problem... lied in his pilot.
In a fight, Gaheris was only as good as Elle's very human reflexes and mana control.
So how could she--
...Ah.
Elle smacked her palm against her forehead.
The lesson.
She finally found the answer... why Tychon was so insistent on training against him, in particular.
Did he know? No... he must have known.
Being the girlfriend of a Tyrion hero obviously had its complications.
...It was something she tried not to worry about.
Tychon was strong. Really strong. Strong enough that she figured she didn't have to worry.
As for how strong? ...Stories of the Archbishop and Divine Armor Star-Fury strong.
--literally able to speak with Ravidius, the Hero of Passage, as an equal strong.
But... strong people make enemies.
...And Elle knew-- somewhere in the back of her mind... that as long as she was with Tychon, her life could be in danger at any moment.
That was the point of the lesson... that she had to be prepared to fight against an opponent she couldn't hope to defeat.
Her goal wasn't to challenge the fates and secure an impossible victory.
Her goal was to survive.
Hope was still out there! Coraline's signal from the beach could be seen and heard anywhere on the island.
The others would come soon... Petty Officer Bob, Stickyfingers... Ishmael...
Tychon.
Elle placed her hand on her beating heart.
Tychon would come, for sure.
A silver star burst out of the dark forest.
Suddenly, the blur stopped-- the light so bright, Elle had to guard her eyes.
Ten yalms away, the ghost-white angel levitated in the air as he slowly and ominously flapped his wings.
However, when the light dimmed a little, she saw the state of his body.
Rows of tree splinters were stuck in his pale skin, drawing tiny rivulets of blood. Feathers were missing from his wings-- some of them floating by his side, tinged red.
The angel wasn't invincible.
...He bled, just like a regular mortal.
That... that should have come as a relief!
But...
Elle's throat was dry. Swallowing her saliva caused physical pain.
Her stomach was cramping... twisting... wringing itself out.
She wanted to puke. She wanted to kneel down, smash her forehead against the dirt and... and just cry.
For the most powerful creatures in the Realm... their desire to inflict pain and suffering was enough to affect those around them.
Shortness of breath.
Horrible visions.
A sickness that starts in the mind, but affects the body...
Tychon had a name for it.
He called it... killing intent.
...When he tried to explain it, Elle just nodded her head. At the time, she didn't want to talk about hypotheticals. She just wanted to be in love... and to be loved.
She didn't want to be scared.
...Experiencing that kind of fear for herself... was worse than she could have imagined.
But... it was an illusion.
She had to concentrate.
She had to deny it.
She couldn't let it control her.
Giving up was out of the question.
Running away wasn't an option. She had to protect Coraline.
...Also, she was pretty sure that if she turned her back, she'd be killed in an instant.
She had to think.
She had to analyze... like her detective best friend.
She had to devise a strategy... like her Tactician boyfriend.
Then... she had to grit her teeth and do what had to be done-- like a certain, foul-mouthed Captain she knew.
Her opponent's body was... thin, with hard but well-defined muscles.
He... wasn't wearing any defensive equipment.
Was he a witch like Coraline? That would explain that... and the glowing tattoos on his chest.
He survived a hit from Gaheris, though... Was it possible he was a bruiser-type enemy? No... he could have used a magical shield.
"You... are NOT BRONZE!!" The levitating angel shouted, "Your appearance is DECEITFUL, you WHORE!!"
He shot his hands forward in front of his chest... thin, silvery wires glinting between his fingers.
Mana... wires?
Elle had heard stories about Assassins using them to hunt down and kill their targets.
It was a cruel weapon...
The angel had a small frame, he moved incredibly fast, and his weapon of choice was a set of mana wires.
He was a Rogue-- it was the only thing that made sense.
So maybe... the angel was like Stickyfingers? If that was the case, Elle and Gaheris had the advantage in strength... and they just had to press it until reinforcements could arrive.
Maybe... just maybe they could even win.
Elle wanted nothing more than to pay the angel back for what he did to Coraline.
She glanced down to her waist. Tychon had issued her two healing potion bottles, holstered securely onto loops on her belt.
She could use them to get her best friend back into the fight... with a little bit of luck.
Elle steeled her gaze and steadied her heart.
Gaheris flourished Summer Song, ready for battle.
The sick feeling went away.
"[It just goes to show... looks aren't everything, y'know.]"
"Hmph," The angel turned up his nose. "Your metal shell *looks* tough... I will show you it is not... b*tch."
Her greatest weakness as a Divine Armor Pilot was her shallow mana reserves... but against all common knowledge, that had been growing since she met Tychon.
With the fear gone, the righteous anger took over.
She had a plan... to exercise superior force via the weight, mass, and sheer magical power of Gaheris.
Her mana was near full capacity. Her mental link with her partner was unshakeable.
And she'd already gotten the first hit in.
Tychon would be proud.
"[You wanna play, you big, dumb toothbird?]" She grinned, "[Let's play.]"
Divine Armors were terrifying opponents-- huge artifice marvels with limitless potential.
Even a Gold-Rank wouldn't be able to take one lightly.
The angel's eyes began to glow with displeasure, "I am no longer in mood."
"Game on," Elle whispered.
Gaheris raised his arm to swing Summer Song down-- then quickly changed its direction to a horizontal slash.
The angel gracefully pivoted his body downward, dodging in a flurry of feathers.
--just as Elle hoped he would.
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