Alfred emerges from the debris. The dust clouds that surround him and the partially collapsed base of the clocktower evaporate with the swipe of his hand. As he walks towards Leor, Alfred slaps off the stains on his armor. A dark, looming heat burns the floor proceeding his every step.

“Ceri, Alden. Get this kid and his dad out of here, now” growls Leor. The words bleed through his teeth.

Ceri rushes out from the corner of a building behind Leor and drags the boy towards the church. “Come with me. The nice man will take care of this.” smiles Ceri. “Leor, be careful… please.”

The earth quakes as Alden stomps his way to the captain’s body. His glare stabs at the walking mountain. He flings the father’s arm over his shoulder. Before walking away, he snarls, “Leor, put a stop to him before he endangers any more innocent people. Someone like him does not deserve the power of the Gods.”

Leor offers no response, but his locked gaze is more than enough of an answer.

“Alden, huh? If only I can deal with him now… but never mind him. You. You must be Leor, “ says Alfred, jabbing his finger.

Leor’s teeth remain clamped together and he glares at the knight, who stands a head taller than him, casually strutting over. His fist trembles, eager to bash in the snobbish grin on Alfred’s face.

“Not much of a talker, huh? Well, it matters not. Dead men have no need for words.” Alfred dashes and slugs his fist down at Leor. Leor slips past his arm and guides the fist over his shoulder. He digs into his armor, sweeps him off his feet, and slams Alfred into the ground. Lifts his leg up and drives his foot down. Plates of earth uproot from the pressure.

The dust settles and the blow is lodged between Alfred’s grip. Leor’s eyes widen. Alfred presses up and launches him off. Leor flips through the air and lands on his feet.

Alfred rises up as if waking from a nap, unfazed by the reversal. He brushes the dirt from his armor; His eyes twitch as his brow sinks deeper, but despite the seething rage in his eyes, the smile across his cheeks brims with confidence. “It seems you are no regular mercenary. I’m impressed. Tell me which family do you pledge your loyalty to.”

“Don’t have one” spits Leor. “If ‘families’ consist of shitheads like you, I don’t want any part of it.”

Alfred breathes deep and raises his hand to the sky. “Tsk. You people from the East are all the same. Constantly questioning those who’ve brought peace to the lands. You’re kind is the reason why we still have war amongst humanity.” He pinches the wedge between his eyes. “When Afzal told me about your outlandish claims against the Gods, I only half-believed him… but hearing it in person, really irritates me”.

A pale beam of light showers Alfred, covering Leor’s view of him. The light whips at Leor; He curves his body backward, barely dodging the razor-sharp crescent.

“Good… it would be boring if that was enough to teach you the might of Master Gwyn.”

Alfred twirls a glowing ax that matches the color of the sun overhead and taps the ground with the tail-end. A shockwave erupts through the air and slithers through the ground into Leor’s bones; His knees cave in but bounce back almost immediately.

Alfred grips his weapon with two hands and lifts it over his head. “I will etch the power of light into your soul. Your bloodline will feel the Licht Order’s justice for eternity!”

Leor snaps his hands across his body and whips out both of his weapons. With a blink, Alfred teleports in front of him; the blinding speed shocks him. Leor manages to edge his swords over his chest and block Alfred’s cleaving sweep. Fragments of light from the clashing steel burn their skin. The blow flings Leor back as if he were made of paper; he crashes into a building and his knee hits the floor.

Again, Alfred disappears from his sights. A heavy blow to the side tosses him across the floor. He jumps to his feet. The weight of the wind changes. The hairs on his neck shoot up. This time, Leor catches the ax between his swords and buries the blade into the ground, winds up his body, and whips Alfred’s jaw with the hilt of his swords. Leor sends Alfred back into the rubble with a swift kick to the torso.

Leor’s shoulders stagger up and down, never letting the tense leave them. He scans the wreckage. He knows that wouldn’t be enough to put Alfred down.

The deafening roar of a lion propels the debris in all directions. Alfred wipes the corner of his lip with his thumb and a streak of blood sits atop his gauntlet. He grits his teeth, swishes, and spits out blood to the side. The dark flame in his eyes burns brighter than before. His golden ax dims and seems to almost match the tainted aura radiating from his body.

Alfred charges at Leor head-on and swings his ax wildly like a frenzied beast. The sudden barrage catches Leor off guard; he jumps back to gain space, but Alfred locks onto his shadow and leaves an explosion of dirt and rubble with every dodged attack. He shows no sign of slowing down; bit by bit, Leor comes closer into his grasp. Leor pivots and reels his swords back, facing the barbarian. He finds an opening and deflects the downward strike. He rides the momentum and drives his foot into Alfred’s chest, but he doesn’t budge. Not even an inch. Alfred clutches Leor’s clothes and hurls him at the clocktower and lunges after him.

Leor plants his feet into the wall beside the clock face, bending his knees to absorb the throw’s power. His forearms shield his face while he draws his swords behind his head. Time slows as he stares down Alfred; A red glint shines in Leor’s eyes. A red that challenges Alfred’s thirst for blood. His muscles fill the remaining pockets of air in his clothes, and he squeezes the hilts of his weapons, rattling the steel blades. With a roar that sounds like a clap of thunder, Leor explodes forward and snaps the light-ax, carving a cross into Alfred’s armor.

Leor lands gently, while Alfred crashes into the stone floor with a thud that shakes the ground beneath them. Pieces of stone and a cloud of dust fly through the air. The battlefield grows quiet as the rocks finish their freefall.

Hovering the outskirts, Leor eyes the dust cloud, searching for signs of movement. A dark-tinted yellow beam shoots out from the smoke and hits Leor in the left shoulder, causing him to stumble back on his heels and drop his sword. The pain in his shoulder echoes throughout his body; his knees almost drop to the floor, but he screams behind his teeth to cope with the blistering pain. He reaches for the projectile, but his shoulder is clean. No projectile. No wound. Only a white stain occupies the damaged area.

Another beam stabs at him. His eyes can barely keep up with the speeding light. Leor snags two rocks and flings them into the smog. Two beams of light intercept them, causing more smoke to be added to the fume. Using the smoke for cover, Leor dashes behind a building into an alleyway. He leans against the wall as he grips his shoulder. Despite no wound, the pain is definitely there.

// So this is what the shop owner meant by that whole loss of effect and the loss of color thing… Shit… I need to put a stop to him, but how?//

He peeks around the corner. Alfred stands beside the clocktower with his hand on his armor. His finger lines the vandalized lion crest, and he snarls with his teeth on full display.

“I’m going to KILL YOU!” Alfred raises his hand to the sky. “I shall call down Heaven’s Might onto you and this Ludwig-worshiping town!”

A high-pitched whistling stabs Leor’s eardrums and the shadows of the buildings crawl back underneath their hosts. He looks up and a flurry of small circles grows larger and larger as they fall from the sky. The falling light showers down at the building across, chipping at it until it is nothing but scorched wood and stone. The glowing rain snakes its way to Leor’s building; He takes cover behind a structure outside the radius of the attack and looks behind to see the entire outer ring of buildings are in ruins. A blood-curdled groan whispers from the rubble of a nearby building.

“… Help me…”

A pair of bloody, pruned hands erect from the debris, interlocked with each other.

“Lord Ludwig…. Help me… save us...”

Despite no more words coming from the gut-retching voice, it continues to echo in his mind. Leor looks away with his eyes tightly shut and repeatedly pounds his temples with his palms, whispering to himself. “Stop… stop… stop.” He sighs heavily and punches himself in the leg to shake it off. The high-pitched whistle screeches above him.

“SHIT!”

Leor dives out the way, but the piercing light jabs at his coattail. Sharp, focused dots of pain penetrate his bottom. His cheeks sting, but there is no time to lose, another volley sings in the sky. He scrambles to find more cover, but the buildings around him are in shambles. The cries of a woman cut through the harrowing sounds of the deathly rain that ring closer and closer.

“Leor! Where are you? Let’s get back to the church!”

The familiar voice stops the beating drum in his chest. He turns and sees Ceri running through the open street, searching the ruins with a worried expression.

“Goddamn it, Ceri… not now!”