The arrival of the Advocates shifted the atmosphere amongst Gilbert's squad. Gilbert's focus wavered for a split second as his HUD caught onto the image of two members from the Advocates, his breath hitching. That lapse of concentration nearly cost him injury as a Styx lunged, its claws raised to tear through his armor, but Adam intervened. A sniper shot ran straight through the attacker before it could reach Gilbert.
"Stay sharp," Adam muttered across the comms, his voice light, but Gilbert gave no reply. He forced himself to concentrate on the fight, cutting down enemies faster and harder, pushing everything else out of his mind.
Gilbert wasn't the only one affected. William froze, his reaction visceral as his body went tight the second he saw them.
Kean sprinted toward higher ground, seeking a clear line of sight, his body rigid with fury.
"It's the damn Betrayer Wolfgang and his new master, Alexander," he spat, venom dripping from his voice, again Gilbert didn't react, he just kept on killing.
The Advocates surveyed the battlefield, their figures unmoving, their cloaks barely shifted under the violent winds of the battlefield.
Then, without hesitation, four of them descended, their armored feet hitting the scorched ground. Meanwhile, the two Great Knights, the highest ranking among them, cut across the battlefield, moving towards the center where Major Cade was pinned down by three Senechals.
The arrival of the Advocates shifted the battlefield as the Advocates' fleet deployed reinforcements, their knights descending with precision, their boosters firing controlled bursts, ensuring seamless rendezvous with the White Horns.
With both companies united, the momentum swung violently in their favor, the White Horns took the chance, their platoons surging forward violently in a coordinated assault, decimating the Styx ranks, carving through their lines with brutal efficiency, vengeance contained in every attack.
Gilbert, despite his dwindling radions and exhaustion, moved with a renewed vigor like a whirlwind, his dual swords flashing, cutting down enemies with mechanical ruthlessness.
He no longer thought; he just fought, his body running on instinct as the sight of Alexander had set him off.
When the Servants engaged the High Knights, Gilbert often took every opportunity, slipping into open gaps, striking with ruthless precision before retreating just as fast.
After three hours of arduous combat, Gilbert exhaled slowly, his body aching. Staring at the sky, his eyes were greeted by the stars of the galaxy, looking around, he saw no more enemies to kill, the weight of battle finally lifting from him.
He returned to the rear line he knelt in front of Lorelai.
"Are you okay, little one?" He asked, his voice softer now, removing his helmet to meet her at eye level.
Lorelai stared into his eyes for a brief moment, her expression unreadable, before she forcefully nodded, her small frame reeking of exhaustion.
Gilbert offered her a slight nod in return, then turned toward William, his demeanor changing back to a squad leader.
"William, how is the squad?" His voice was calm and focused.
William, pulling his spear free from the corpse of a fallen bear like Styx, sighed before turning to him.
"We're all okay, but we're running low on everything. Supplies we can get on the ship, but the squad needs some serious rest."
Kean sat lazily on a piece of debris, lazily tossing a pebble in the air.
"Hey, Gilbert, you seriously need to treat us after this. You could take the squad on a date to that fancy rooftop terrace, or maybe get us all some massages." He whistled at the end, clearly enjoying himself.
Vivian scoffed, nudging Adam hard enough to make him glare.
"I don't agree much with the annoying one, but he is right, we could seriously use a treat leader."
Gilbert let their words settle for a moment before exhaling through his nose, a tired and amused glint in his eyes
"A rooftop terrace?In this wreckage? Sure, I'll book the reservations right now," He muttered, shaking his head.
His words caused Vivian to glare at him, meanwhile Kean threw his pebble at him.
As they were goofing around, Major Cade and two Great Knights convened as they discussed something in private.
Meanwhile, Alexander and Wolfgang made their way towards Gilbert's squad, causing the playful air among them to vanish, as they instinctively moved into formation.
The squad stared them down, their hatred palpable. Gilbert and William stepped forward, their postures rigid, blockading them from the rest of the squad. Adam took it a step further, his sniper locked onto Wolfgang, his scope catching every twitch, breath, every possible opening for a shot.
No one spoke.
No one relaxed.
For a moment, the battlefield felt colder than before, not even the dissipating heat could get rid of the chill among the group.
Alexander, seeing their reactions, remained composed, his polite demeanor unchanged in the face of obvious hostility. His new armor gleamed under the starlight bearing the colors and insignia of the Magistrate's office, fully white armor with black etchings, on his shoulders, he bore a scale in equilibrium by two black stones, while the other shoulder bore two interlocking rings with II inside the intersection.
"It is good to see you all again. How are you, Knight Gilbert?" His voice was smooth and measured.
Gilbert didn't immediately respond; he simply stared, letting the silence stretch on. Finally, his voice cut through the quiet.
"Why bother coming here?" He took a beat, "Do you think I would simply forget or worse forgive what you two have done? Or is it the new colors in your armor fooling you into believing I won't attack?"
Wolfgang scoffed, his contempt naked in his eyes for all to see while also holding an air of superiority.
"I do not miss that, the way you, a peasant, talk all high and mighty to your betters." His tone dripped with scorn, his stance loose and casual. Then his smirk curved further,
"You know the funny thing? We both know you wouldn't dare touch us as we are."
Gilbert responded by stepping right into Wolfgang's personal space, their noses almost touching as he stared him in the eye.
William, who was quiet the entire time, pulled back Gilbert as he spoke to his longtime friend.
"You've changed, Wolf," he said, pain hidden behind his words.
Wolfgang's expression eased slightly as he heard William's words, but only for a moment; then it was gone.
"I've not changed, William, I just became true to myself," Wolfgang said
William was about to open his mouth once more but was stopped by Gilbert, who turned his attention back to William.
The air tightened, tension twisting like coiled wire as Gilbert asked his voice flat and measured.
"What do you want, Alexander?"
Alexander, ever the composed, maintained his courteous tone
"As you know, the town is scheduled for cleaning, but there seems to be a stowaway amongst you. I am simply here to retrieve it."
His words landed, causing confusion among much in the squad, but before Gilbert could respond, Kean's laughter cut through the sharp space, mocking.
"Are you finally going insane? I'd expect nothing less from you."
His pistol unholstered, his stance shifting as he placed them in his sights.
Alexander didn't react, his attention shifting, but Wolfgang wouldn't let things slide.
"Still moronic, I see Kean. Why don't you ask Vivian or Chen Mei who we meant?" Wolfgang said his grin became even more mocking.
His words caused Kean to stiffen as he turned to look at Vivian
"Vivian, what is the good for nothing betrayer talking about?" He asked
Vivian rolled her eyes at him, but answered when Gilbert shot her a look
"They are here for Lorelai, the little girl, I told you this town will be cleaned, hence, she is dead," Vivian replied.
Lorelai, hearing her words, hid behind Anastasia as she held on to her leg, shaking in fear.
Alexander nodded at those words
"Thank you, Vivian, now then Gilbert, it was nice to get together again, but we need the girl," Alexander said as he maneuvered Gilbert, but a sword blocked his path.
"Oh? Are you willing to go against the magistrate's office for that thing?"
At the end of his words, Gilbert's jaw tightened, his stance rooted. William shifted beside him, his spear raising ever so slightly.
"I'm sorry, but I don't see any objects here in need of retrieval, so I am afraid your information is wrong," Gilbert said, keeping his sword by Alexander's throat. He stepped once more in his path.
Alexander did not move, did not flinch.
"Interesting choice of words," he mused, his tone still polite, almost amused. Wolfgang, on the other hand, scoffed, his posture lazy and unimpressed, but his eyes sharpened, watching Gilbert with deeper annoyance.
"I suppose this means you truly intend to resist, then?" Alexander continued, his voice calm but growing more authoritative.
Their confrontation ended up catching the attention of other Advocates. The Advocates shifted subtly, unshaken but more watchful, preparing for if the conversation dissolves into conflict. Few White Horns did the same, mostly squads from the same platoon; meanwhile, Aisling and Askel's squads both inched closer.
William stood firm at Gilbert's side, his grip tightening on his spear, his gaze locked on Wolfgang, his pain from earlier now twisted into firm resolve.
"You guys heard our leader, there is nothing here for you to retrieve. Best you leave now," William said as his spear blade began heating up.
Alexander released a tired sigh as he drew his sword from his back, a mechanical long sword crafted from reinforced alloy tapering into a razor-sharp point. A deep red hue runs along its length, with faint circuitry etchings ripple down the metal. The cross guard is understated, with angular flanges subtly shaped to deflect attacks. The insignia of Advocates is prominently engraved at the base of the blade. The hilt was wrapped in darkened beast-like styx leather for a firm grip reinforced by steel rings at intervals. The pommel is slightly elongated, large enough to contain a hidden mechanism.
As soon as the blade was drawn, multiple people paying attention to the group released deep gasps.
Chen Mei, who was located at the back of the group, took several steps closer as she stared at the sword.
"Leader, be careful, that- that is a dread weapon," she said, her voice trembling.
Hearing her words, everyone took an instinctive step back from Alexander, except for Gilbert, who stood his ground, his sword held still.
Alexander gave him a cold smile.
"That is Gilbert I know, stubborn and foolish," as he spoke, the circuits on his sword pulsed, a soft white glow trailing along its length.
Gilbert grinned in response, toothy, sharp, and unbothered, as he slid his helmet back on, letting his visor obscure his expression.
"No sword, color, insignia, or name shall make me fear you, Alexander."
His voice unflinching, his blade crackled with electricity snaking along its edge, despite his dangerously low radion reserves, the energy burning along his muscles.