Helga circled over the battlefield. Her orders were clear. In case the carriages were ambushed, she and the other flying maidens that were not knights were to pretend to dive to draw away any potential arrows or long-range abilities from the attackers.

That was their job. Exactly and explicitly. The knights did not trust they could fight with the coordination and skill they held, and trying to help them could just as likely result in them getting in their way.

So that was exactly what she did. Once there was confirmation there were more maidens than the armored one, Helga would dive, lance in hand, and then swerve every time arrows and elemental energies surged upwards in an attempt to stop her and her fellow flier. They would take turns, ensuring a constant diversion of attention from the attackers.

And they watched, nervous.

The armored maiden was well beyond what any of them had expected. Someone this powerful had been just living near Seledo and no one had known about her? And the armor was eerie, not because it was unlike any Helga had seen before, but because it had clearly been custom made. It fit the maiden exactly, it flowed and moved without impeding movement and the large maiden needed only to adjust her position to ensure any blow she could not block would be intercepted by what was clearly enchanted equipment.

Helga didn’t like it, not one bit.

Such a piece of armor was expensive beyond belief, and the maiden was experienced with it.

Who was she? Why was she here?

The other attackers were far closer to what she’d expect from wildlings. Old and worn weapons, armor that was only useful against animals, not maidens. And crude movements that allowed the well equipped knights to fend them off even when outnumbered. If not for the larger one ensuring the knights could not take a formation, the entire fight would have been won already. By virtue of the attackers not being able to pierce through.

And when things seemed like they would start turning in favor of the knights, the large armored maiden managed to strike one down.

It had been a simple slip. A small trip while trying to pull away from the reach of the crude massive ax. The knight had stumbled, and her sisters had not been close enough to help. And just like that, the ax had come down upon her with enough force to cleave its way through the breastplate.

There hadn’t even been a scream. But Helga gasped all the same.

The attacker had paid for her small victory, several of the knights had landed blows upon the uncovered parts of her body, drawing blood. It hadn’t been enough to even slow her down, the fight returned anew, but things had shifted. The knights were wary, their discipline kept them from attacking in fury, but with one less of them to hold the attacker back, some of the knights that had yet to engage were forced to join the fight.

Helga struggled with the desire to dive down. She could only grit her teeth and pretend to dive once more. Just like the knights, she couldn’t let herself be distracted from her role, from her task. They depended on her just as much as she depended on them to protect Lady Alice and the others.

But the question lingered.

Were they able to take down that beast of a maiden? Her ability to neutralize other’s abilities was clearly ensuring none could land a definite blow on her. Something she did not have to concern herself with as her ax was definite enough.

Did the knights know how to deal with this? Could they? Helga didn’t know. She’d heard of the knights and their great skills, and yet she doubted. It didn’t look like they were managing to stop the large armored maiden, or even slow her down. Only barely keep her from reaching out and avoiding the other attackers from being cut down.

The scream snapped Helga’s attention towards the carriages. She saw three of the attacking maidens had reached Lady Alice’s carriage and yanked the door open. Helga didn’t think, her wings folded around her and she dove.

Behind her, someone screamed for her to stop.

Pain exploded from her wings, arrows piercing through, drawing blood.

Helga’s body began to glow as she pulled out her power. She raised her spear and with a scream, threw it. The three maidens jumped away, and the spear missed. Half a second, enough for Helga to land and yank her weapon from the ground.

Her injured wing slammed the door shut. The carriage was enchanted and reinforced, Lady Alice was safer inside than outside.

Every instinct and every minute of combat training told her this was a mistake. She had wings, she should fly, she should engage from where she held the definite advantage. And every fiber in her body and heart burned with the determination that not one of them would touch a single hair in Lady Alice’s flowing auburn hair.

Three enemies, dark skin, sharp ears, white hair. According to the Hunter’s manual on feral combat, they were most likely dark elves? Their powers were… energy neutralization. Aberrant. Abilities to unmake other’s abilities, stronger individuals were…

Oh.

So that was what the armored maiden was.

Helga did not care to reinforce her body with her energy, relying on such a thing would meant the moment they took her power away she’d suffer. She took just one look at the short swords they wielded and lunged with her spear at the closest one. A simple direct thrust, her wings spreading wide and blocking the swords of the other two.

The pain sent a surge through her. Helga did not slow, thrusting again in rapid succession, her injured wings serving to give her steps a bit more forward distance. The dark skinned maiden tried to dodge and block, using her sword to parry the spear while the other two aimed for Helga’s back.

But her wings were large and bulky. They hurt, the blades dug into the feathers and flesh, and Helga would not be able to fly during this fight but it did not matter. She pressed forward, tightening her form and pressuring the dark elf. The maiden could not keep up.

A blade sank into Helga’s side. She grimaced and kicked at the attacker just enough to push harder. Push harder. Keep thrusting her spear, harder. Helga’s arms moved faster, even as her wings kept taking the brunt of either of the other two. Helga pushed, and thrust, and thrust and thrust.

And the instant the dark elf stumbled just a little, when her footing had wavered just a bit, Helga spun the spear. The impact sent the sword flying from her enemy’s grip, and the dark elf’s eyes widened just a fraction of a second before the sweeping turned into another thrust and Helga had pierced into her gut.

The attacker fell.

Bloodied wings and a dripping flank, Helga spun to face the other two.

Shock and anger. They charged at Helga, aiming to stab at her torso.

Helga squeezed her wings around herself and tightened them to take the brunt of the blow, their blades bit into her flesh and her body buzzed with the pain. They had not expected for her to so freely allow herself to be stabbed like this. They clearly had not read the Hunter’s manual on how to fight a Valkyrie. Valkyries felt pain differently than normal maidens, their bodies meant to heal from a thousand injuries.

The error cost one of them a leg. Though Helga could not finish her as her companion put herself in the way. It was still a losing prospect, they were not well trained for this kind of fighting, the maiden could only defend as Helga pressed her attack harder, ignoring injuries and pushing her back further and further.

“PAN, STOP!”

Helga would not have stopped if not because the shout had come from too close to the carriage. To Lady Alice’s carriage.

Upon its roof stood a maiden with black hair and a glowing golden sword.

“Who’s Pan?”