The princess-to-be let out a tiny groan, furrowing her brow. Her pinky nail was uneven and it was bothering her to no end. It was to be expected, of course; the rabble they designated as caretakers had no hope at keeping up with her standards. It was shocking, to say the least—The Officers Academy was always hailed as this elite housing of nobles and the rich, but seeing as they freely let the rabble join in if they can fish the coin, she should have known better.

Either way, her nails were vastly more interesting than running along with the bold Knight of Seiros. ‘Strength in numbers’ sounded like a good idea, but she was all too aware that the students were more likely to be fodder than anything else. Considering ‘Professor’ Michail wasn’t of any renown, she wouldn’t have gone along even if they didn’t have a choice.

Only one other was smart enough not to go: Lienna Orhneaht. She had seen her a few times lingering around Professor Malathice, but she was a little more interesting than others. For one, nothing about her said ‘highborn’ but the way she walked around would have anyone assume she thought she was someone of importance. It wouldn’t be the first time some pretty thing managed to wrap up a baron or a count around her finger to elevate her position, but it did surprise her that she was at a military academy of all places.

When she spoke, at the very least Veronica let out a hum of acknowledgement. “If the Knight does his job, then there won’t be anything to worry about,” She replied. “Assuming he isn’t too busy dragging back corpses.”

Lienna had turned her attention back to the wand, crossing her legs under her and removing the thing from her waist to examine it in her lap. Holding silver in her hands was still novel to her—even after learning that apparently every single piece of cutlery in the dining hall was made of the stuff—and the crystal on top, the way its many facets captured the afternoon sun and broke her reflection into a thousand pieces… well, it what could she say? It was breathtaking.

The other girl’s voice pulled her head up from admiring the wand, Lienna looking over her shoulder just enough to catch the Queenling in the corner of her eye. Sitting on a log looking dissatisfied, absorbed in her nails or something. Typical. Not that Lienna herself was doing much more, but this girl had a way of turning any little tick into something irksome. Lienna had to wonder if Veronica ever had to worry about birds flying up her nose, walking around like she did with it held up so high.

Still, she was talking more sense than any of the other students had, and Lienna had to surrender a grunt of agreement. That being said, she couldn’t resist a little jab.

“I’m not worried,” she offered offhandedly, crossing her arms and straightening in her carriage seat. She caught Veronica in the corner of her eye again, raising an eyebrow. “Aren’t you, though? What happens to you if our favourite Princeling doesn’t manage to limp his way back?”

“Then I don’t have to go through a marriage with a cowardly prince that I was against in the first place,” Veronica replied without skipping a beat, although she finally lifted her head to level a look on Lienna. She looked like she was inspecting her, eyes searching for something. “It’s not every day a noble speaks of such a thing so casually, especially since if that were to happen, it would throw the Empire into chaos.”

“So? I’m not Adrestian,” Lienna shrugged, “I’ll be spending my life about as far from the Empire as you can get, go nuts.” Throw the Empire into chaos, please. What made Veronica think she’d care? Or was that sort of arrogance just bred into her the same as her black hair and blue eyes? Lienna wasn’t sure she could even recognize Adrestia on a map before she came here, and this girl thought she’d quake at the idea of some faraway foreign country falling to shambles. It had once already with that plague, hadn’t it? Sure, her world might come crashing down if their precious Prince killed himself on some bandit’s lance, but it seemed a lot of these highborn fledgelings didn’t realize just how small their worlds really were.

Speaking of which… “Though, I find that puzzling,” Lienna continued airily, pointedly tapping her finger against her chin. “You were very careful to tell us all about your position on the first day here, remember? But if Kayden dies, how will you become the new Queen?”

Veronica stared at her for a moment, raising a finger to her chin as she narrowed her eyes. An understanding came over her, and she ended up rolling her eyes as she crossed one leg over the other.

“My sincerest apologies, I misunderstood you,” She stated airily. “After hearing your conversation with Professor Malathice on the first day, I found your line of questioning odd. Having a sheltered and naive noble isn’t uncommon—in fact, those with crests find themselves hidden away more often than not. But after what you just said about not caring about the Adrestian Empire, now I realize you aren’t naive, you’re just an idiot.”

A derisive snort escaped Lienna, the white-haired girl equal parts amused and livid. Oh, how the claws come out! Honestly, Veronica would be better off picking a side early: she could be either the dutiful damsel trapped in an unwanted betrothal, or the opportunistic future Adrestian Queen, but not both. It seemed she must have struck a nerve, though; an argument with a stuck-up wannabe Princess wasn’t what Lienna had planned while she waited for her peers to return, but apparently it was what she was going to get.

“If you’re so worldly, I’m surprised you weren’t tipped off sooner,” Lienna retorted sharply, turning in her seat. “Honestly, highborn rose you are, have you ever heard the name Orhneaht listed among the ranks of Faerghian nobility? Do the math, darling.” She couldn’t lie and say she wasn’t doing her best to fit the noble mold here—if nothing else, it would be good practice for her life after her wedding—but she’d be cold in the ground before she let some doe-eyed, soft-handed little shit make her feel inferior for the accident of her birth.

“My sincerest apologies for treading my peasant filth all over your pristine noble tapestry,” she snapped, “but given I managed to live most of my life without needing to know the colour of the Emperor’s underclothes, I’d hazard a guess that the affairs of Adrestian nobility aren’t as vitally important to the whole of Fódlan as you’d like to believe.”

“So quick to defend, oh my…” Veronica couldn’t help but giggle, taking a second to collect herself. “I know only of the major families, there are some that escape my memory—I suppose you think it’s a mistake to have given you the benefit of the doubt?”

She didn’t linger too long on that, however, letting out a tiny sigh. “You’re wrong about one thing, however. The Adrestian Empire collapsing would affect everyone on Fódlan, from high to low-born and both Faerghian and Leicesteran,” She stated plainly. “But tell me, who have you decided to use to improve your life?”

“Count Francis Gautier, younger brother of the current Margrave,” Lienna replied proudly, raising an eyebrow. What, did she think the question would sting? There was no way arrangements like hers weren’t common, and it was a win-win for the both of them: the Count got a Crest freshly injected into his family line, and Lienna got to live a warm, comfortable life of personal and financial security for the rest of her days. Her only regret was that she hadn’t done it sooner.

She did have a fleeting thought that the accusation of “using” her betrothed might offend the Count if it reached his ears via… whoever he’d sent to keep an eye on her, but she quickly dismissed the thought. Even if they weren’t openly using each other in equal measure—to quite the agreeable conclusion, she might add—she wasn’t so sure the conversation would be overheard. Not only were they desolately alone at the moment, but she hadn’t felt the weight of eyes on her since they left the Monastery; a welcome change, and perhaps the only pleasant thing about this entire farce of an excursion. Even after just three days, the inescapable feeling of being watched was already grating on her, raising goosebumps on the back of her neck even in her dormitory, where she should have been sure to be alone. Lienna wouldn’t deny agreeing to the Count’s terms of a chaperone—it was fair enough for him to make sure she didn’t take his tuition money and run away with it—but was it really so necessary that he keep her stalker’s identity a secret? At least then she might finally be able to relax out of his view.

“But yes, alright, the whole realm will fall into disarray if your betrothed bites an arrow today. The whole world, in fact. I bet the mice and the birds will each shed a bitter tear for your loss.” Lienna continued at last, already bored of this conversation. Were catty insults the way noblewomen settled their disputes? Maybe they’d all be a little less stiff if they had it out the peasant way. Children slinging dung at one another was certainly how a lot of the noble snits she’d witnessed looked from the outside.

“Except you, that is,” she continued. “I suppose you’ll just be relieved, because obviously the notion of ruling Adrestia by proxy never appealed to you in the first place. Hence, of course, why you make your future Queenship abundantly clear every chance you get. I understand now.” Lienna made a face of mock enlightenment, spreading her arms for effect.

Veronica looped a lock of her hair around her finger, absentmindedly toying with it. Even the hairdressers left much to be desired, judging from her less than impressive ends. As Lienna stopped speaking, she let out a small giggle, leaning back slightly to look up at the sky. "Do you?" She asked rhetorically, eyeing a cloud above them as she shielded her eyes from the sun, free hand dismissing the question. "Ah, why bother asking, you don't seem like the type to read between the lines."

Instead of continuing, however, she decided to turn back on a more interesting subject. "Count Francis Gautier...he just made a generous donation to the Academy, too. I assumed his contribution had come because the Margrave's son had long since graduated," She thought out loud. "Just low enough to take the apple off the tree. I'm impressed, most would try giving empty promises or seduction, but you seemed to have come out of the deal relatively intact. Do the two of you get along, or will you settle in a cycle of complacency?"

“I thought you only knew the major families,” Lienna retorted boredly, leaning back in her seat. A soft breeze blew past, and she watched lazily as it rippled through the grass of the surrounding field like a wave over water. Alright, this was fun, but with Veronica insisting on running her in circles like a guilty child, she was quickly growing bored. And exhausted. Indech’s teeth, was this how noblewomen spent their days, in the throes of catty pissing contests? She didn’t know how they could stand it.

“Anyway, if you don’t want to answer my question, fine; but could you at least do it quietly and spare me the shrill pitch of your voice?” she asked, though it sounded less like a question and more like a statement as her eyes wandered back down to the wand Michail had given her.

Veronica couldn’t help her laugh that time, standing from the log and brushing off anything that chose to cling to her skirt. "Have you considered that I simply find the prince insufferable?" She asked as she plucked a leaf off her sleeve. "If he lives or dies, as the princess consort, it would be a terrible thing. Personally? I couldn't care less if he got himself killed playing hero to a village that isn't even worth the time. Only fools go out of their way to bleed for people that don't matter."

She put on a smile as she turned to Lienna. "Contempt is common between husbands and wives—since you decided not to answer my question, I'll assume that's where you stand with your betrothed," She stated. "Now, to properly welcome you to the noble life, I shall do my part and impart some unwanted wisdom."

Lienna had to wonder if Veronica wouldn’t even admit to herself that she’d weep shameful tears if her precious royal future was taken away, insufferable fiancé or not, given the enthusiasm with which she dodged the question. Maybe it was something the little Queenlet just couldn’t bear to consider; in any case, it wasn’t Lienna’s problem. She assumed she’d get her answer regardless, when the professors came back dragging the Prince’s battered corpse.

“On what, the finer points of seizing some nobleman’s co—” she paused for a second, letting out a very loud and intentional cough for effect, “—oinpurse? Thanks, I’m good,” she replied, rolling her eyes.

Wrinkling her nose in disdain, Veronica needed to take a second to compose herself to return to something resembling neutral. Of course, she wasn’t going to be forgetting that anytime soon, but that wasn't what she was trying to say.

"No, no...as an unmarried woman, I haven't the foggiest idea to manage a man's...finances," The word came out uttered, albeit she cleared her throat before she continued with, "However, more important than pleasing your husband is navigating the nobility and their long time tradition of verbally tearing down anything they dislike. I won't bore you with lessons or lectures, but I can at least warn you, from one woman to another: be wary of wearing your heart on your sleeve. This doesn't manifest in weeping maidens, it manifests most in those quick to prickle at the first word uttered negatively in their direction. I'd so hate to see your engagement canceled simply because you took offense to something said and didn't know how to properly combat it."

Mhm, how convincing. Little spots of light glittered across Lienna’s face as she turned the wand in her hands, the crystal at its top breaking the sunlight into a scattered rainbow as she half-listened to Veronica’s “advice”. Yes, because Veronica cared so much about her success in the noble world. How considerate. Lienna would have assumed it was all garbage and done the opposite if not for the… ooh, was that embarrassment in the poor Adrestian flower’s voice? With a name like Gerth Lienna found it very hard to believe she hadn’t jumped on every nobleman with a connection to the Imperial family to work her way up to the Prince, but that was neither here nor there. What actually shocked her was that Veronica’s little tidbit didn’t sound that stupid. Sure, it was cute that saving face was the biggest thing noblewomen had to worry about, but she supposed she’d be lying if she claimed keeping her distaste under her hat didn’t make a bit of sense.

Still, she wasn’t about to give Veronica credit for that. “Mm, I’ll keep that in mind the next time one of you glowing mountain flowers dodges a question with a cutting remark; must mean I struck a nerve,” she answered absently, turning the wand once more before finally sitting up straighter.

Tossing her hair, she finally turned to look at Veronica, her gaze icy as ever. “I’m not one for favours, though, so I’ll trade you this: Li vra vrako; vrako balai jo erenj,” she stated proudly, crossing her arms. Surely a highborn scholar like Veronica could figure it out. “It’s simple, but it’s true. You’ll probably find it applies to any challenge you might face, Queen or not.”

Openly rolling her eyes, Veronica returned her attention back to her hands. No one could say that she didn’t try. She’d have to keep an eye to see how that turned out; no doubt it’d be greatly entertaining, at minimum. The conversation ended and the pair were plunged into silence, the vague sounds of nature and an extremely muffled sound of steps in the distance if you strained your ears enough.

After a while, the princess consort stood, smoothing out her skirt as she looked towards the forest. She shifted in place, eventually making a decision. “I’ll be back in a moment,” She stated, already departing.

The rest of the bandit's forces stood towards the now decimated ruins of what was left of the other half of the village. The first explosion had taken everything out--even the buildings that still stood looked more like an assembly of broken walls than anything else. The few bandits that were there largely ignored the destruction, focusing on pulling a large, heavy cart filled with a multitude of barrels. At a glance, there seemed to be something scribbled onto them in a variety of different patterns. Once they reached their destination, the cart was abandoned as four cloaked mages took their place around the cart, muttering an incantation in unison. Light burst from the ground, slowly carving out a circle.

A pair behind them differed from the rest. One was clearly a leader, with his armor decidedly less tattered as he carried an axe that was considerably more bloody than the rest. He towered over the rest, a combination of size and muscle that let anyone who laid eyes on him know that he would not go down without one hell of a fight. Next to him stood another cloaked mage, albeit they carried a staff adorned with a skull. The pair spoke in low voices, observing the other mages. The leader gave an order and the small group of bandits split into two, with the first continuing into the village and the rest leaving.

Euphemia stayed a distance away, eyes trained on the leader. Her horse had been stowed away and she remained on foot with bow in hand, blending into the ruins of the village. While the nature of the destruction bothered her greatly, she paid no mind to it. If she could get in a clear shot, she was sure she could end the rampage. As she got closer, however, the magic in the air was electrifying, tingling the skin on the back of her neck. It was difficult to ignore, the pull of the incantation letting her know that a decision needed to be made. On the one hand, she had no doubt she could lodge an arrow in his neck to kill him, but she wasn't a fan of that magic business right there.

Readying an arrow, she made her decision. Narrowing her eyes, she waited for him to take in a breath before letting the arrow go. To her surprise, a shield erupted around the pair. She didn't let that discourage her, however, as she hastily drew back another arrow, this time her hit landing on a mage as her arrow pierced through their neck. The incantation broke immediately, and that was her queue to go. The feeling of lighting in the air resulted in a thunderbolt colliding with the wall in front of her. She took aim at a stunned mage, ending his life with an arrow, though instead of preparing another arrow, she chose to sling her bow around her arm, withdrawing her sword from its sheath as she ran.

It came a little too naturally to Derec, or at least, the thought came to him as he stabbed his spear through the bandit. Maybe it was the fact that it was for the service of others as opposed to the much-less-noble cause of self-defense. It had been a while since Matlock had gotten invaded, but getting raided once was already a harrowing experience as it was. What he couldn't help but wonder, however, was why the bandits were outright destroying the village. Sure, there were men who simply wanted to watch everything burn, but most bandits simply wanted to pillage. They wanted jewels, precious metals, women--here they were just destroying everything.

Pulling his spear out, he watched Michail dispatch a pair not too far ahead. He made it look so effortless--Derec was genuinely impressed. Then again, out of everyone there, Michail was a Knight. He supposed that the silly, goofy personality betrayed the skill he had. Auberon was the right choice for the front line as well, his swings practiced and effective. Isolde was slowly coming out of her own shell as well; while she struggled with multiple enemies and her fear was plain all over her face, it was obvious that she held some sort of skill. Melee combat wasn't something he expected out of the timid girl, but boy, was she fast.

There wasn't much time to compliment or even think too hard on it, as he turned back to check on the rest of the party. As soon as he had turned back, however, he realized he had made a mistake, every sense in his body screaming at him to look back ahead. When he did so, however, it was too late: an axe was already swung at him, fully intending to part his head from his body. Whether it was dumb luck or the divine grace of the goddess, however, said axe was practically tossed aside. Blinking, he watched as Isolde stood, armed and ready as the bandit picked himself up. That was one hell of a flying kick on her side, the close call leaving him shocked for a moment. He shook it off, however, repaying the favor by deciding not to give the bandit the chance to get back up as he drove his spear into the man's calf.

Meanwhile, Tomai had made sure any bandit that was stupid enough to get too close was promptly cursed and killed on the spot. As he spotted the incoming back attack, he turned, fully prepared to strike them all. However, the prince decided to dive in, much to his annoyance. "...hm," He hummed in disapproval, watching as the kid was struck. Fortunately for the prince, both Clarissa and Kellen came to save the day, and Tomai decided he may as well act like a professor as he rummaged through his pack.

Bringing out a concoction, he popped it open and raised his staff. A surge of magic surrounded Kayden and pulled him back to Tomai. "Drink up, frontline's just about finished," He stated, presenting the drink to Kayden.

Kaira let out a tiny huff of frustration, feeling a little useless. Maybe she should have taken a sword from the carriage after all. The students were doing well for the most part, with Tomai's power amplified by the staff and making easy work of the bandits. She honestly couldn't believe how straightforward this was, even if the air was still electrifying. Or was it? Something had changed somewhere, the magic in the air considerably thinner than before.

An arrow shot through the air caused her great alarm as she noticed Jorah wasn't standing. Oh Michail, telling Jorah to just do the thing instead of helping out! Clucking her tongue in disapproval, Kaira cautiously hoisted herself up the side of the carriage, slowly climbing up. Thankfully, aside from a cut on his cheek, he didn't look hurt. She sighed in relief, focusing her magic onto her hand as she carefully crawled up next to Jorah, placing her hand on him to alert her to his presence and sending a tiny heal to stop the bleeding from his cheek.

"If Euphemia was here, she'd say you're doing well," She offered him some encouragement. "I'm going to draw the archer's attention, when you see them shoot for me, make sure to shoot them back, okay?"

Patting his shoulder without waiting for a response, Kaira stood up straight on the carriage, looking around. She couldn't see the archer, but she was sure Jorah would whenever they'd loose an arrow. So instead, she closed her eyes and concentrated as she formed a small ball of light in her hands, promptly squeezing it until it burst. A wave of healing was blown around in a circle around her, recovering the students' energy and invigorating them.

As soon as Michail felt Kaira's spell, he continued forward. "Let's go!" Michail called, running forward. Through the smoke, he suddenly came to a halt, a glyph glowing from his free hand and banishing the wind altogether just in time for something to come flying towards him. He was nearly knocked over, but he managed to catch the flying Euphemia, skidding backward a few feet. To his surprise, the behemoth of a bandit came charging forward.

"Move!" Euphemia scrambled to her feet, the Kalonic siblings immediately leaping away as the axe came down. narrowly missing the pair.

Derec was shocked that someone so big was there, but his size worked to his disadvantage--his swings were wide. When the man lifted his axe, Derec saw that as his chance, deciding to slip in and relieve him of his arm. Unfortunately, he didn't account for just how fast the massive man was as he was nearly gutted, the timely entrance of Isolde delivering a swift kick to change the swing's trajectory saving all but a few of Derec's red locks. The bandit leader took a hold of Isolde, the girl letting out a shriek as she was easily tossed into Derec without so much as a second thought, sending the pair flying to the side.

Euphemia gripped her sword in hand, standing next to Michail. To her dismay, the three remaining mages were back at it again, the light forming the runes once again. "Those mages back there are going to cause those barrels to explode," She informed him and the rest.

Michail narrowed his eyes, spear at the ready as the bandit leader sized them up. "Then I hope someone's fast enough to get past them and stop them," He noted, leaping backwards as the axe came down again. "Great Goddess above, a speedy boy, are we?"

"I haven't been able to get past him," Euphemia admitted. "I took out two of the mages and slowed down the process, but..."

"You did what needed to be done," Michail replied before raising his voice. "Keep your wits about you, we need to stop that spell from going off or we're all done here!"

The small group of bandits departed from the village, intent on retreating for a while. They traveled along the river for a distance until they spotted the carriages in the distance. After some deliberation, the decision was made to liberate the Knights of Seiros of the carriages. It was clear that the battle in the village was going poorly--at the very least, they could take their spoils and get away with their lives intact. And so they kept riding, intent on taking the carriages that had been seemingly abandoned by the knights...

The sounds of battle were far off for some reason. He was a frontline fighter, why was he so far away? His chest was heavy, he felt dazed--was he injured? Did he let himself get hurt? His head was killing him, too, he must have gotten knocked out or something. As his eyes slowly opened, he was met with the sight of sandy blonde hair with a little red mixed in. Funny, his hair was as red, too. Red like blood. That's what all the village children used to tell him as they terrorized him, anyway.

His thoughts slowly oriented himself, a slight panic setting in as he realized what happened. The battle was taking place not too far ahead of him, but he and Isolde were surrounded by rubble--they had gone through one of the walls! "Isolde. Isolde, are you alright?" He didn't know how he kept the panic from rising in his voice, but he at least tried to make sure he held Isolde properly.

She let out a tiny groan, eyes peeking open. "...yeah," Her voice was so soft he almost didn't catch it.

Somehow, he had ended up fine, but Isolde must have suffered some sort of head injury--his guess was the debris came down and hurt her after the matter. Talk about adding insult to injury! He shifted himself up, clumsily lifting her over his shoulder with one arm while the other grabbed his spear. In the back of his mind, he knew he probably should have prioritized handling the girl more delicately, but he figured it was better to get them to the backline. Clarissa was a healer, right? And Professor Simeon was a nurse, too. They could help Isolde. Shaking off some of his daze, Derec took in a deep breath to steady himself and cautiously moved forward. He bit back a hiss as his back protested--did the trip really mess him up that bad?!--and kept going.

Meanwhile, the spear that had been hurled at the bandit leader was caught in time for his arm to catch both of Jorah's arrows. One seemed to lodge itself in flesh while the other bounced off his helmet. Still, with the combination of Auberon and Jorah, the leader was successfully distracted and could not stop both Imogen and Kellen. The two were too quick to block, but all he needed to do was go for whichever was the easiest to get to. The choice was made for him as the young girl was smaller and likely harder to catch. And thus his axe was swung, aiming directly for the boy's shoulder.

What he did not anticipate, however, was the Knight once again showing off their difference in skill. Michail was at Kellen's back, lance taking the brunt of the hit. The metal of the axe clashed with the weapon but said lance held strong, with Michail entirely focused on keeping the bandit's weapon as far away from Kellen as possible.

Tomai decided to avoid accidentally hitting anyone in melee range, instead deciding to focus on the mages in the back. Kaira had a similar idea as the pair cast their spells in unison. Both flew through the air, but before they could land, both light and dark magic were promptly sucked into the mage's skull staff.

"Huh," Tomai lowered his staff, raising his eyebrows.

Kaira blinked for a few seconds but collected herself. "The spells were absorbed, but...how?"

"I reckon it's the staff. I think I'm now invested in winning this fight as I'd like to liberate them of it," He replied.

Euphemia fell back some, temporarily sheathing her sword and pulling out her bow. She aimed directly for the mages, firing off an arrow. Said arrow bounced once again against the barrier that popped up. "That barrier's going to be blocking any physical attacks and any spells won't do any good. Now what?" She asked.

Kaira peered at the mages, an idea coming to mind. "We'll wait for Imogen to attack, and then follow up immediately after. The barrier is being manually conjured every time--I don't think it can block multiple attacks in succession," She pointed out.

Letting out a sigh, Euphemia offered Kaira her bow. "Alright. That'll fall on you, Jorah, and Imogen, then," She gave Jorah a confident smile before rejoining her brother at the frontlines. Movement out of the corner of her eye stopped her as she noticed a spare bandit decided to join his boss with the intent of crossing paths with Derec. Unbeknownst to them, however, was the last bandit sneaking up on the crew from behind, with every intent on beheading the unaware Kaira.

Letting out an irritated sigh, Veronica pulled her skirt away from another bush that decided to grab the material as she walked past it. Nature had always been something she ever only wanted to experience from a distance. She had already deemed her shoes a lost cause as the forest's mud had practically engulfed them, and she'd be lying if she said she hadn't made a vain attempt to clean them. But after the fourth time getting her foot stuck, she abandoned that effort and focused more on making her way back.

Not that she was in any particular hurry, of course. She doubted Lienna missed her, and their riveting conversation wasn't something she was looking to continue, either. At the very least waiting in a carriage was more comfortable than trudging through the forest, so she used that as her motivation. A nice, hot bath would do when they would return. She pitied her poor skirt as she frowned at the tiny holes. The uniform wasn't anything to write home about, but she did admire its simplicity and material, and nothing deserved to get caught repeatedly by thorns.

As she neared the exit, she was surprised to see fog. An odd thing considering that the sky showed no signs of such weather. It was also confined to the area where she thought the carriages were. No, that wasn't natural, that must have been the wand Michail had given to Lienna, which meant trouble. The Goddess must have enjoyed the idea of the pair getting attacked, and of course her bow was inside the carriage. Who knew how many enemies there were? And who knew where Lienna was in all this. Had she fled to the forest, she was certain she would have seen her by now. The wise thing to do was wait where she was, but on the off chance Lienna lived, she would likely never hear the end of it.

"I'll bet you're worried now," She couldn't help but mutter as she tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible, approaching the scene.

Derec was all too glad to follow Clarissa's instruction. While he made sure he was as gentle as he could be when he put Isolde down on the ground, the muscles on his shoulders and legs began to protest. Now that he was out and away from the danger, the adrenaline seemed to wear off, and while he initially knelt down to take a pause, he was just plain finding it hard to get back up. Why did it take so long for him to realize how breathless he was?

At least watching Clarissa heal had distracted him from how much his body ached. He was relieved to see the tension leave Isolde's expression, her eyes fluttering open shortly after. While it took her a moment to sit up properly, it seemed the worst had passed. There wasn't any holding back his sigh of relief--he wanted them all to make it out of this alive, regardless of house. A silly thought, but unity was what had led them to their successes so far.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by Clarissa healing him, and he had to chuckle a little at her words. "And here I thought I had made a fool of myself," He admitted that much, watching as Isolde slowly tried to get to her feet. As she winced and sat back down, however, he put all jokes aside. Clarissa's magic was strong, so he wasn't sure why she was in pain.

"I think he hurt my ankle..." She said quietly, her hands on her leg.

He as in the bandit's leader? Derec wasn't entirely surprised--the behemoth of a man looked like he could crush bones with a squeeze. The redhead got to his feet, feeling entirely invigorated as he offered her a hand. "Then let's get you to the backlines."

Meanwhile, in the backline, Kayden's successful dispatch of the bandit had left that loose end all tied up. Once Kaira caught Jorah's eye, the pair were in sync. There wasn't a need for any confirmation as she followed his lead, their initial arrows firing off one after the other. Sure enough, Imogen's sword attacks had occupied the barrier long enough for their arrows to sink into the unfortunate mage. The other mage let out a scream of terror as Imogen tackled them to the ground.

"We did it--!" Kaira cut herself off as the mage with the staff slammed his weapon to the ground, though rather than an attack as anticipated, he was surrounded by a flash of violet light that shot into the sky. He was gone, likely having fled the battle. "He...abandoned them?"

Tomai scoffed, crossing his arms. "Hired help is only loyal to the coin," He shook his head as he turned his attention to the scene in front of them.

Auberon's feint had caused a second of hesitation that Michail was all too happy to follow up with. Having learned from Derec's mistake, he made sure to keep his distance as he swung, albeit the only thing he managed to do was cleave off the leather strap of his armguard. The bastard was faster than expected, albeit at the very least he now had a vulnerable spot if they could get to it.

However, the bandit leader made a second mistake in focusing on the Blue Lions. Despite being his initial victim, Euphemia had also gone in at the same time. She went in much closer than Michail, thrusting her sword upwards and successfully knocking off the bandit leader's helmet, sending it flying away a good distance. To her surprise, the loss of his helmet didn't phase him at all, even though the trickle of blood showed that she had definitely struck him.

To Michail's horror, the bandit grabbed Euphemia by the throat, and he promptly halted his assault. "Euphie!"

His grip tightened around her throat, and Euphemia was sure he was going to make sure to crush her neck. Her chest was already feeling tight from the sudden lack of oxygen, but she'd be damned if she was going down without a fight. Even as she was lifted in the air, she clumsily changed the grip of her sword as she used both arms to raise it above her head as high as she could, eyes wide with rage as she plunged it deep into the exposed arm. A low howl escaped the bandit as the sword went through, his grip around her loose and she fell to the ground.

It was now or never to finish the job. "Now!" Michail called to everyone, taking the initial charge forward.