Although Helion had managed to shed the stereotypes he once held about humans, it did nothing to change the fact that he was still incapable of rivaling Renard without even ntioning the nearly two hundred Initiates under the latter’s command.
It was also because he understood the true threat humanity could represent that he stopped believing in his ability to win this battle.
Of course, that would only have been true if he had been alone.
And unfortunately or fortunately he was not.
As if Exa had shared the sa thoughts, the webs imprisoning them began to fade away.
Before the Knights of Orion could even rejoice, Helion’s voice reached them cold and brutal, like a harsh reminder of reality.
" Unleash yourselves. "
It took less than a second for the aning of those words to settle upon every mber of Orion.
A giant claw slamd down onto Renard, sending him flying several hundred ters away, while spider threads materialized in the air, allowing nearly a thousand calamities to descend from the sky.
The horror the knights had feared finally fell upon them.
Yet this ti, none of them retreated. On the contrary, they advanced and charged, rushing headlong to et the calamities.
Death had already been promised to them, but the manner in which they would et it still belonged to them.
Fully aware of their fate, they ran at full breath, weapons in hand, cries burning in their chests.
Those whose resonances allowed for explosive and devastating attacks took the front line.
When they finally collided with the calamities who were charging just as wildly , the impact was terrible.
Not a single knight took a step back.
Instead, they pushed forward like enraged bulls, piercing through the first, the second, and up to the fifth rank of calamities before their montum faded and they were swallowed by a battle of total chaos.
To their surprise, they quickly gained the upper hand.
Their enemies were fierce and fearless, but their movents remained slow. Their bodies, supposedly hard, were torn apart by swords like paper. Above all, these calamities seed immature one could almost mistake them for minors.
However, this apparent weakness did not make them hesitate. On the contrary, their confidence and relentlessness only grew stronger.
(" At this pace... maybe... ")
One of the knights thought these words, though he did not dare embrace the hope of victory.
He was not wrong... for their dominance was soon shaken.
It began with that very knight, who carried by the tide turning in their favor allowed himself a few seconds to catch his breath.
He bitterly regretted it when he felt a tiny sting at the base of his neck.
By reflex, he struck the back of his neck, thinking it was nothing more than an insect.
Without understanding what was happening to him, dizziness overtook him and he collapsed.
The mont his body hit the ground, a dozen small minor calamities, each no bigger than an egg, lunged at him, draining his blood until nothing remained but a dried husk.
When the last drop of blood was emptied, one of those tiny calamities began, for the first ti, to assu its >, proof of its ascent to the rank of Baron.
This evolution was not an isolated case.
For every fallen knight, a stronger calamity rose in return.
Although fewer than ten of them had perished, the knights’ vigilance imdiately doubled.
One of them, who enjoyed the respect and esteem of the others, gave the order:
" Clam formation! "
Like an instinct carved into their flesh, the knights reorganized at once.
They grouped into units of five, back to back, securing their rear while protecting one another.
And while one might have thought this formation would slow them down, it was astonishing to see how five n could move as one, every motion coordinated and precise.
Faced with this organization, the losses stopped.
When a knight grew short of breath, he moved to the center of the formation while the other four protected him. This allowed them to conserve their strength, fight longer, and cut down more enemies, all while benefiting from a considerable defensive advantage.
" All those hours of training... " one of them said, a smile on his lips.
" Yeah. I rember how much we suffered during the first weeks trying to master this formation. "
" Ha ha! I rember that afterward, we couldn’t even lift a finger. "
" And Arnaud... tireless. He forced us to drink so that the next day we’d show up to training even more drunk. And instead of crashing into each other, we sohow managed to pull off the clam. "
One of them burst out laughing before adding:
" We should’ve called it the drunken clam formation. "
At the mory, the five laughed heartily without ever ceasing to fight.
Orion was one of those cities where everyone knew one another. Its knights had grown up together. And today, as they prepared to die on the battlefield, they chose to do so with smiles on their faces, their only regret being the lack of alcohol to get drunk one last ti.
These five childhood friends were not an isolated case. Every Knight of Orion engaged in the battle bore the sa smile. Once their fate was accepted and they were imrsed in the turmoil of combat, fear had fallen silent, leaving only pride behind.
Yes, they were proud.
Proud to die on the battlefield.
Proud to et an end worthy of the heroes from the tales their parents once told them.
No doubt, had Renard been able to see them, he could not have been more honored to have such knights under his command.
But he could not.
His view was blocked by three calamities barring his path. Yorb towered over him with his colossal stature. Broy, like a living swarm, gave him no respite. And the third... Helion, patiently waiting for the two Marquises to render him incapable of fighting before delivering the finishing blow.
" There is no need for ego or pity in war. As long as the result is achieved, the thod matters little. "
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