A different kind of Knight

Chapter 22

"What about your golem?" Oh, it hurts to think about it. "Let's discuss something else, shall we?" I say to him with a tinge of sadness. Without any further explanation and the pilot missing its golem along with a sad demeanor, he instantly deciphered the message. The message made him feel pity for the Knightless Knight Pilot but he still believed that he can still fulfill the duties of a hero. "Oh. Well at least you haven't found your peace yet. If the savior of humanity is truly dead, then I guess the four deities must've decreed that our lives shall be lowly. Forever." He said almost with acceptance and hopelessness as if I actually died on the spot.

He must be pretty glad that I didn't leave his people to such a horrid fate. "Turpes simios." One of the armored men says with a disdain in his comment. That... Sounds like High Gothic! Specifically, "filthy apes" in high gothic or something like that if translated into Imperial Low Gothic. It's an insult. I am not fine with the fact that we have been insulted! A nobleman such as I would never tolerate that, more so if it was directed towards those who diligently serve under me! "Nego. Nego contumeliam!" (I deny it. I deny the insult!) The response took him back. Greatly so, if I must add. He backsteps in surprise, his armor jingling as he did so. The armored man knew what he saw could be the catalyst for the very destruction of his species. The end of days. The bane of the Gods. The Anathema. That name shook him to the core and it sent a fearful shiver down his spine. "I-Impossibil! Homo qui loquitur lingua nobi!" (I-Impossible! A human who speaks noble language!) He shakily responds the statement that brought him fear as he clumsily reaches for the sword that is in his scabbard. The sword finally comes free from its scabbard after a short struggle. He points it to me. "Die!" He said his full intentions with me as he charged at me. The pilot, so used to fighting in a mechanized suit of armor, is unable to comprehend fighting outside one. The obvious display of death didn't register and the swordsman barrels towards him, sword held in a lethal stance. Sylbia made a decision that saved my life. But not hers.

"NO!" Sylbia suddenly jumps between me and the guard, "Hrk!" Was the last noise she made as her sword ran through her. She weakly raised her hand towards her husband as her eyes fluttered the last bit of energy in her dying body. Everyone's attention was glued at her as her hand slowly lowered. Death soon took her away. "SYLLLBBBIIIIIAAAAA!!" Fendes screamed out her name in devastation, he raised his crossbow. With teary eyes and burning hatred for the one that killed his beloved, his aim was true even as tears flowed. *THWACK!* Carnage unfolds as the bolt flies and strikes the guard who killed Sylbia. *TZOW!* The bolt fails to penetrate the armored helm as it carelessly dings off. The strike however made the helm ring incredibly loud and spark flew into its visor. It failed to kill, but Fendes shall make sure that by his hands, the blood of his wife's murderer shall be spilled. He charges at the guard, bodies clash and his thick fingers wrap around the chainmail-laden neck as he lifts the body off the floor.

The other one only stood around dumb-founded at the situation unfolding before him. The sight of seeing a human, a prey animal, fight against a predator while winning in the process. Is something that is almost incomprehensible to him, yet it is happening right in front of him. "H-HELP ME! YOU! FOOL!" The near-unconscious militiaman choked out the words in breathless gasps. Finally, he decided to do something. He brought his blade out and slashed it at Fendes. Blood stains the sleeves of his brown and raggedy shirt. The strike wasn't lethal but it made his grip falter. Fenders knew that he must shift his focus towards the active threat armed with a sword so he threw aside the militiaman that he was choking onto the floor. *THUD! Bang! Ding! Fwap!* It was done with such force wherein the body bounced several times as it rolled away. He stopped rolling on the floor and immediately began gasping for air. "HACK! aCK! Hwoh! Hrk!" Whilst Fendes shifted his attention to the guard who struck him lowered his spine and raised his fists, a fighting stance. The sensation of being in combat without a Knight suit led me to only stand around. The struggles of being in combat with nothing more than my skin is one that is unfamiliar to me. Fingers twitched and eyes darted back and forth as I struggled to think on what to do. I began to rapidly breath as I realized that I do not know.

Comrades! I've seen what a guardsman and his comrades can accomplish! They watch each other and fight for each other! He has a comrade this time, me. I shall not let them hurt him no longer. Charging at the guard currently coughing away the damage wrought on his throat and kicked his ribcage is what the pilot did.  However, he was well armored, something that he failed to consider. Thus, making that move was a foolish mistake instead of a debilitating strike since his heavy duty boots are made from boiled grox leather and rubber. Toes and bones collided with metal. The painful sensation was put aside and to rectify the mistake and press on with my attacks. Luke prepared to deliver another blow, this time with some thought behind it. But before I could strike, something happened.

*SHIK!* The sound of sharpened metal entering flesh was loud as everything became mute. This. This cannot be good. "Luke... I'm sorry, but I can't serve you any longer." A weak and dying adventurer whispers his laments through the air. "Lad, do not look. For the sake of your House's name, IN THE NAME OF THE EMPEROR! I COMMAND YOU NOT TO LIFT YOUR GAZE! BY THE THRONE! NO!" The Nobleman pleads and begs, but the truth cannot be changed. That pain. The pain of loss. Crimson stains the floor as the weakly clutches at the gash across his belly, his once vengeance-filled heart pumps weakly as he knelt. The fire in his soul was extinguished as he closed his eyes and never opened it ever again.

But the embers ignited mine. I shall honor their family, their souls shall rest peacefully knowing that I shall apprehend those responsible. I wrapped my fingers around the helmeted skull of the guard. I picked him up. His two armored hands grasped my forearms and it helplessly squeezed my muscles. *BWOOONNG!* His helmet rang out like that of a prayer bell as he was thrown down to the floor by an angered pilot. I straddled onto him like that of the grox herder, Blows upon blows began to land upon his armored chest. *BOONGG! BOONGG! BOONGG!* The chestplate rang as it was subjected to the attacks of an enraged man. Each blow connected to the plate with such a force to the point where the armor began to buckle inwards, Each blow knocked him breathless. Each blow made sparks between the knuckles of my gauntlets and his chest piece.

"ADIUVA! ADIUVA ME! BESTIA OCCIDER!" (HELP! HELP ME! THIS BEAST MIGHT KILL!) He screamed out to his companion who was so unsure on what he should do. "Signore? Quid de gatta?" (Sir? What about the cat?) He said the question to the soon-to-be corpse, who is most likely his superior due to how he was referred to. He uttered it with complete ignorance as if is fellow as brother-in arms was rather being pounded with love and care and not with a malicious amount of hatred. "OBLIVISCI CIRCUITUM SUO, VOI STUPIDO!" ( FORGET ABOUT HER, YOU FOOL!) The downed commander scolds the underling. "S-Sic signore!" (Y-Yes sir!) Nervously he stammers out his confirmation and rushes to aid his commander. "Nolite interficere lui!" (Don't kill him!) The commander gave him a peculiar command. Why do they want me alive? Doesn't matter to me, as long as I can keep on killing these kinds of animals then I am satisfied.

"Aut aliud! Tri-OOF! TRIGINITA VERBERA" (Or else! Tri- THIRTY LASHES!!! ) The commander yells over the din of his armor's brutal beating. A particularly hard impact knocks the wind out of his lungs and interrupts his irritatingly loud commands. Before it resumed to assault my ears not too long after. His chest plate has already significantly changed shape. Compared to when I first saw him. Heh, it should be called a chest bowl instead of a chest plate, the former sounds so much more fitting for his own pitiful armor. The unsure underling began to awkwardly shuffle towards me. Unsure how to handle the situation.

I can imagine that he is sweating buckets under that armor as he approaches an enemy that is immensely strong. He stops only a short distance away from me, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. That is when I notice that his legs are not that of a human. Their legs seem to have an extra joint right below the knees, they have no footwear. My fixation on their legs left me with an inactive body as I ran through thoughts. Was Alice a traitor? Is that why she left me alone? No, they mentioned going after her. She ran away didn't she? Coward. "She left you here to die on purpose, brother. You've been lied to." The loyalist lamented with a hoarse voice of a dying man, a chilling reminder probably due to the fact that they will kill me sooner or later. Be it here, jail cell, or execution. The several moments of inaction gave the commander enough time to regain his bearings from the beating.

He took my hips. The sudden sensation of my hips being squeezed snapped me out of thoughts. I tried to resume my attacks, tried to remedy my situation, and keep the upper hand in combat. But it was too late as he grunted and threw me over the side. "HrrrRAH!" I extended out my left arm towards the floor as a sudden reflex to the fast approaching floor. I was able to stop myself from falling any further. Wait, where is the unsure underling? *THOK!* Something hard and metallic instantly collided with the back of my skull. Dazed, I fell forward to the floor without being able to brace for the fall.