...

Really.

I cannot say this is a particular boost to my confidence. While I was capable of tracking them here, I've never navigated these forests without that goal in mind. Thus, I cannot be expected to handle that portion of our navigation to our goal in an unfamiliar land.

Given that fact, why is it that we are lost? Exactly what is the excuse for this?

It's the Edren men's fault. I'm certain of it. This dense, humid forest is so far out of their experience that they have managed to get themselves turned around.

Of course, I am well-supplied with food. A single one of my riceballs a day is sufficient to keep me going without worry of fatigue. With that being said, waste of supplies due to being lost out in the wilderness is hardly a wonderful start to the task we have been assigned.

---With that being said...

The slavering, howling beasts. I am no hunter, but I understand the principles of living things all the same. And while the current task is elsewhere, Cid is directly related to my overarching goal.

I reach into the pouch a my hip, my eyes scanning over the beastly creatures. Their distorted forms evoke a painful image, twisted beasts who are no monsters having been warped into them.

I take a deep breath.

The heart is a difficult target on the larger of them. My physical power isn't sufficient to punch through the muscle and bone in the way, particularly for the bears, with enough speed to avoid counterattack. The wolves and other creatures are somewhat easier, but still perhaps not the ideal target.

The throat. The eyes. Soft, undefended locations even on these distorted beasts. Those are my goals.

The sharp, black form of a kunai emerges from my pouch, and with it---

"I would request that you shield your eyes, for a moment."

I raise the kunai and press its tip to the string.

"Burn."

Fire flows from my veins, deep within me. The Fire Materia is useful for direct offense, but it also reduces the amount of equipment that I must carry.

The heat radiates through the steel kunai, setting it alight and catching the bomb aflame.

I raise it up over my head and take aim. Away from Sagramore-san, as of course the Edren man has chosen to rush in, in order to give him time to react.

As it leaves my hand, I shield my eyes as well, tucking my ears against my head.

Crack---

A flash of light. A burst of sound.

For even a moment, these will serve as needles directly thrust into the senses of the beasts before us.

My pack hits the ground. I need to shed the weight to move faster. In the same moment, my blade swiftly leaves its sheath on the back of my hips.

I'll target the most dangerous of the beasts nearest to the initial blast. While they're stunned, I'll eliminate them. Cut them out like the sad disease that they are.

I throw myself forward, pressing my palm to the kashira and sending a surge of fire up the blade's edge as I swiftly approach the nearest of the blighted bears. They are without a doubt the greatest threat out of the various beasts, and right now they are immobilized, if only briefly.

That is all the time that I require.

It is rearing back, throat out of reach, roaring as its eyes and ears are for the moment disabled and in pain.

I push off the ground, arm rising in an arc.

There is a hiss as fur and flesh and blight meets burning steel, the brief resistance that swiftly gives way, and an arc of spraying, afflicted blood.

I hit the ground and keep moving. The more swiftly I move, the more difficult of a target I am, so I simply won't stop if I can help it.

A blighted wolf is in my way, snapping jaws closing shut just ahead of me. I answer it just as swiftly, thrusting the tip of my sword through its neck and then turning, dragging crimson and fire with me as I look for the next of the bears. They'll recover soon, but---

I can delay that a moment longer.

I take aim as my free hand reaches into my pouch again, drawing another kunai. Its eyes are starting to open, so I simply won't allow that.

A swift throw, carefully aimed and accounting for positioning.

One of those barely-opened eyes is pierced, the beast letting out a bellow as it's sent reeling.

I use its body as a platform, pushing of the ground, onto its side, and thrusting the blazing edge of my sword into its neck.

As it falls, I'm already leaving it.

Beasts are beasts, of course, but they are like humans in many respects.

Even blighted, they will still die from a cut throat.

---

The trip to Brightlam was proving to be almost as much of a hostile one as Osprey- Galahad had not anticipated there being truly so many blightbeasts out here in Drana Asaneu. It made their strict position on neutrality that much more baffling, really. Perhaps the Grovemasters weren't as capable of rule as he'd thought, though Galahad decided not to voice that line of thinking aloud, lest he encourage the others to insist on going forward on eliminating them. They'd been avoiding the major roads, using smaller backroads or just trekking through the rainforests themselves, trees so tall, that Galahad would've been hard pressed to reach the canopy with his leaps. Possible certainly, but not without the risk of cracking his skull or getting caught on a hidden tree branch- though he was sure that would entertain some of the folks in his midst. A smaller group might've been able to avoid detection on more well traveled paths, but their group was hardly small at this point, they couldn't just follow along the main roads, any passing patrol would easily detect their movements, so cutting their own path was required.

The fact that they had run into Cid, again, in the midst of all of this was nothing short of miraculous- especially when they'd been pondering whether or not they were lost just some hours before. But here he was, as was Ramuh, yet another Eidolon, though thankfully considerably less hostile towards them at least. Bolts of lightning cracked from the sky, making Galahad's own look like mere sparks in comparison, though comparing an Eidolon to materia wasn't even a comparison really. Luckily, the Eidolon's wrath was not directed towards them, rather the great sages, both of them, were in the middle of being beset by blightbeasts.

And so, the Kirins were once again called upon into action.

"Scatter them!" Galahad called out, leaping into the air, a relatively shorter hop than he was used to as he capitalized on beasts Rudolf had knocked back with gravity. Armored boots sent a lifted blightwolf crashing back into the ground as Galahad pushed off of it and landed onto the back of a great bear, a magnificent beast had it not been blighted. Raising his halberd up, Galahad reversed it in his grip as electricity crackled down the haft and into the blade before driving it down into the back of the bear's neck, wrenching the weapon upwards to take the beast's head off in a single stroke. At this point, this was more of the same for them- just a bit more beasts than usual was all. Or a lot more, but more blightbeasts didn't make dealing with them particularly different.

From his relative vantage from the top of the bear, Galahad brought his halberd down and around him in broad, sweeping strokes, expertly twisting the haft of his weapon around his torso as his heavy blade made short work of any beast it made contact with. One of the wolf shaped beasts leaped at him to tackle him off the bear corpse, its jaws latching onto the Wyrmfang only for Galahad to spin and flourish and throw the beast off.

"Why is it, Cid," Galahad called over the din of fighting, "That whenever we come across you, at least someone is fighting for their life?" Admittedly, Galahad was half joking, but he was, by that turn of phrase, half serious. "Blightbeasts hate you, the Grovemasters apparently aren't fond of you either- maybe Drana Asnaeu isn't the place to be?"

To be fair, that same statement also applied to them at the moment, and Galahad wasn't expecting a response either. His eyes scanned upwards as he saw Ramuh gather lightning to call down another bolt towards a pack of blightbeasts. Leaping into the air, Galahad swung his weapon as he felt, rather than saw the bolt of lightning crack past him, an arcing trail catching the glinting blade of his halberd as the rest of the bolt crashed down on a pack of beasts. The dragoon grimaced and grunted as he felt residual electricity dissipate across the blue scales of his armor- thank Etro his first dragon kill was a lightning dragon.

Galahad landed in the midst of the pack of blightbeasts scattered by the bolt, his own weapon crackling blue. The Wyrmfang's blade and spearpoint had gathered enough electricity that it looked like he was practically wielding a blade made of it. It wouldn't last forever, but his next swing would deliver Ramuh's bolt directly into the next beast he struck. Leaping back into the air, Galahad brought his weapon back, his eyes quickly scanning the clearing, seeking out a suitable target to deliver Ramuh's 'blessing' to.

---

"Oh, what a bother," Esben muttered as the party dove into the fray with the beasts. Not just for the same reason he always wanted to complain when running into them—his focus as a duelist was already plenty obvious to the rest—but for the overall interruption of it. Between running through various options in his head that they'd have once they reached Brightlam and trying to mentally map out just where they'd managed to find themselves, he needed all the concentration he could muster.

Which, in the face of another Eidolon, ravenous beasts, and Cid's reappearance, was not nearly enough. At least the latter would help make some of his planning easier. "Eos, Selene, you can come out." The pair of fairies peeked out from the edges of his cloak, that he still wore despite the humidity and heat just to keep the rest of his clothes from getting torn to shreds in the forest, before flying out around him.

He was almost certain he could hear Eos breathe out a long, slow "Wow..."

As they took in the sight, he fell back towards the rear of the group where he could more easily overlook the course of the battle. "Keep an eye out in case they hit anybody," he ordered Eos, snapping her out of her momentary reverie staring up at Ramuh. "We don't need any casualties, nor do I want to deal with any of them being plagued by the Blight themselves. Selene, speed them up if you would."

"On it!" The purple-glowing fairy sped away in a heartbeat, casting her light over the gathered Kirins just as she had when they fought with Isolde and her knights. Not that Esben imagined any of them really needed the help with Blight beasts...but it should make the tiresome part go by faster.

---

At the sight of Cid and blightbeasts, Éliane didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She was truly getting sick of the old man, no matter how helpful he had tried to be. Everywhere he went it seemed trouble was following him. Éliane was fine with that to an extent—it was a good excuse for the thrill of combat and to keep herself and the rest of the team on their toes and their blades honed… but not when it came bringing leviathans, titans, and enemies that required literal armies and heavy weapons to even contest.

In that way, seeing Cid being beset by blightbeasts was actually a breath of fresh air. Cid hassled brought some petty schadenfreude, and she could shoot and stab malignant fauna all day. The only worry was the giant sage, but he only seemed hostile towards the monsters for now.

“Esben, isn’t this fun?” She commented with some mirth, chuckling as she watched Cid shake off one of the creatures before she surged forward.

Unsheathing her gunblade, she sprung into action, but she held herself back slightly, allowing the newest member of the party to overtake her. Éliane wanted to know what Chisato was capable of.

Shooting into the densest part of the pack, she whistled as the small ninja blew up some of the beasts. “I like your style, kid!” Cackling, and not to be outdone, she lobbed one of her own explosives towards another group of the monsters, watching with satisfaction as it exploded among the group, scattering them further.

If it happened to be close enough to Cid that it singed his clothes a little bit, it was purely accidental, not intentional at all.

Izayoi was a blur across the battlefield, her blade scything through Blightbeasts. Razor wind and battojutsu strikes littered the field before she grit her teeth, stopping in place as she was forced to raise her blade to block a massive canid Blightbeast's fangs. An errant bolt of light magic from Cid eliminated the great beast she was straining against, the samurai giving the sage a brief nod of thanks before diving back into the fray.

Soon enough, the efforts of the Kirins cleared the field of Blightbeasts, leaving sage and Eidolon in the middle of the sacred grove. At its center was a single stone, a lightning bolt engraved on the rock.

"My thanks." Cid exhaled, looking less winded from battle and more simply stressed in general. "Full glad am I to see you still live-"

"Isolde deceived us out of the belief you are some sort of heretic." Blightbeast blood was scarcely flicked off of Izayoi's blade as its owner stared Cid down, out of patience. "Explain."

"Ah." Cid winced. "Her observations are true. Her conclusion is not. My life is extended far beyond its natural limit, yes. This, however, does not make me an imposter or a demon. The grace of the Mother sustains me." A rueful smile. "Why else do you believe that I cannot leave holy ground? Honestly, I expected better of that child."

Izayoi simply nodded at this, accepting the explanation. Above everyone, however, Ramuh chose this moment to speak.

"The Dominant speaks truly."

The Eidolon of Thunder's voice rumbled.

"No unholy mischief is involved with extending his life past its limit. Only Etro's blessing."

His gaze swept over the Kirins for several moments before turning back to Cid.

"I should like to test their worth."

"Do try not to overdo it." Cid sighed, walking off to the edge of the clearing where he proceeded to sit. "Warriors, fear not. Ramuh will not kill you. And I will heal your ills once the battle ends. Who knows? Impress him enough, and he may just reward you." A significant glance was sent Esben's way.

"Indeed."

Ramuh remained where he was in the air as lightning crashed into the clearing. When the flash cleared, a different figure could be seen on the ground: a mighty, draconic being clad in steel roared, two stories tall, lightning crackling across its figure.

"You face mine attendant: Adrammelech, the Wroth."

At Adrammelech's cry, Thundagas began to litter the field, bolts of judgment crashing down without rhyme or reason.

"Show us whether you have the strength to save this land, Warriors of Light!"

Okay, beasties defeated, and she'd done it with a minimum of magic usage on her end – you never knew when there might be some extra threat, and blighted or not… an animal was still an animal. It was the sort of thing that she had grown up being taught to deal with, even if using a sword for it still had some flashes of novelty.

…

"Oh, c-come on!" She hadn't even said anything and still they were fighting another giant reptilian monstrosity! And this one was throwing out lightning everywhere. Of all the… she liked using it sometimes because it was hard to dodge, but that was exactly what made this such a pain. Especially when everyone had bits of metal on them, which wasn't going to help. Fine, fine…

How nice of Leviathan to give her so much immediate hands-on practice with protecting against lightning. Oh, she had been focused on making it as strong and focused as possible, there, but the manipulation and casting was just a different application of the same thing. Concentrate, concentrate, and… ah, there it was, the faint light settling into her skin with an odd, slick feeling. Was it like that for everyone? Maybe she should ask one day. "Th-That should help. Still, try not to g-g-get hit…"

The hand of misfortune struck heavy and with relish, Miina's well-intentioned but all too faint warnings dashed to pieces by the hammer of high heaven about Rudolf's ears, the errant Thundaga as loud as any cannon that had ever drawn a rose's hue onto Eliane's cheeks. His ears rang, and the stench of ozone and smoke filled his lungs— but her protection had overlayed onto his form just in the nick of time and no sooner. Taking the cloven-hooved titan's heralding fulmination right to the damn dome had hurt for certain, but proven survivable— his fingers flexed when asked, and his breathing hadn't gone erratic even with Selene's Swiftness embossing his movement.

Good, all good. That said, though, the undirected strikes of lightning were hard to predict even with that haste applied— and he couldn't get around the sense that it wasn't quite so effective as it had once been. He'd been grappling with that inkling feeling all through the moments were the Kirins had torn through the blightbeasts like scythes through wheat, but it didn't stand to reason that the purple fairy's boon had somehow been weakened, so much as—

Another thread of lightning crashed against his back, the third in nowhere near as many seconds. It obliterated the idle thought before it could really complete, leaving again the strange impression that maybe he wasn't taking to outsourced haste quite so well as he used to. That being the case, it had proven again that he couldn't quite rely on dodging, given that these were the incidental threads of contact. A long blade of steel upon his back, and a yawning chasm where he had once held at least meager fortune— between them, lightning seemed to quite readily strike twice, and then some. His mind raced... and found itself taking a very different tack than the suggestion he'd been too momentarily deafened to hear.

I have an idea. You might not like it.¹

There was the disembodied sensation of a nonplussed blink. Evidently, somebody in this equation wasn't used to being on the receiving end of that sentiment.

Huh?

"I've got the front," he called, swallowing a lump of fear in his throat even as his hands rose to grip the pommel of the tall, smoking greatsword at his back. He stepped forward, a deep puff of air loosing as he exhaled, trying to purge that sensation of clammy palms and pale complexion from his body. They were just all the lightning, he told himself, that was the only reason his hair was going wild, and the hammering heart was just the haste at work. Sword drawn, the young man set off at the head of the group, breaking into a charge. The alternative, he dimly realized, was probably completely locking up. It had been this way for so long he had almost forgotten how to recognize it— that the ideas he verbalized were probably more for his benefit than any one of theirs. "I'll do what I can to draw the lion's share of the heat onto me! You guys encircle him, attack from the flanks! We faced down Leviathan— just one attendant's in reach if we play this right!"

His guard was high, an exaggerated Vom Tag. Lightning liked three things most of any: high places, metal, and Ithar's blacklisted. While Adrammelech's direct attacks wouldn't be rerouted, even pulling the errant, incidental sparks away from his comrades would give them a lot more breathing room atop the Barthunder² that coated them all.

Hold on, what happened to smartly approaching your problems? Your first thought is turning yourself into a lightning rod. Even with the Nulshock, you're playing a dangerous game to maximize the hits you take. You saw what happened to your blonde friend last time lightning was allowed a free point of entry.

This is smart, Rudolf countered, letting his will flood the six-foot empty vessel above even as another bolt careened into it, running down the length of steel before crackling at the edges of the arcane barrier around him. They were right, of course— each shot still felt like getting brained with a sledgehammer, to put it mildly, to the point where it felt a shame that his armament might not retain the charge afterward. Even if the Eidolon's mighty servant almost certainly held immunity to the element it commanded. But all the same, Etro had afforded him at least one rare blessing at birth: a really hard head. We're buying openings! Listen, just worry about keeping the fire burning and whatever you can do to shield my heart and my brain!³

I can't guarantee anything, but you dying means me dying. I'll try and figure something out. This is what Arton, and that materia you chucked him, are for.

Not happening! You've seen the state he's in same as me— and with him out of the fight, I'm the next most robust person we've got. I don't like it either, you know that damn well!

With the fae boon still upon him, it was a simple matter to close the distance between him and his quarry— now came the hard part. He whipped the blade around into an uncharacteristically weighty slash to Adrammelech's right leg, attacking the joint of the knee with the physical force he could pull out of the empowerment— and letting the high-spiraling tornado of blackflame in its wake ravage the titan's torso as it climbed. He would need to get close to contribute meaningfully to the battle anyway, and with him not being terribly confident that his speed was completely up to snuff compared to before and them down their usual bulwark... pivots needed making.

There was a great crash as steel met steel, and he craned his neck to lock eyes with the thunder elemental. He hid the nerves behind a grimace, he hid his grimace behind a growl— Izayoi's master had been bad enough already to stare down. The ram of thunder was easily three times as tall. Basically the size of a house, and actively crackling with the power it held that made your every hair stand on end, made your instincts scream at you to run away and not draw this thing's attention.

And Rudolf had to make himself the most pressing target on the board, so his teammates could swarm him and take him down, or at least prove they stood a fighting chance against him. He summoned the image of his brother from within the recesses of his mind. The broad back he always chased. That man was so like those brief glimpses of Arton he'd seen before the Blight infection had truly metastasized; even if faced with a primordial like Ramuh himself, or Leviathan before, he wouldn't falter. He would meet this challenge, even if the very storms their Midgar blood knew to above all else respect were the hurdle he had to overcome.

Of that, the young swordsman was sure.

"You're in our way, goat!"⁴ he roared, bringing the length of the greatsword back across his field of view a moment later, another line of ink⁵ drawn upon the arc he cut through the air, a spray of onyx flame spreading towards Adrammelech's head, his eyes, high above. Hopefully, the smell of ozone and singed flesh would mask the scent of deceit— the constant hammering of Dhinas's smiting judgement all around him cloaking the same of his pulse. "We've got places to be!"

Those opening moments were precious for setting the tone of a fight. Even with seven of them versus one of the wrathful thunder spirit, he prayed that he had at least extended the first stanza by enough for everyone to reposition well enough to bring their full ability down onto their foe— while they were still warm from the fight with the Blightbeasts, maintaining tempo was crucial. that was the lone upside to having this test dropped into their lap with neither warning nor processing time, to the point where he wasn't even sure if he'd had a moment to internalize any of what Cid and Ramuh had revealed of the former's particular, strange existence. He didn't know what he thought of that, or how he weighed it against the Grovemasters issue, or how it played into his running tally of everything that had happened in this forsaken jungle. He'd not had the time to think.

And that was likely what pushed him here, to trying to buy Izayoi, Galahad, Esben some time to come up with an actual strategy beyond this opening. If he had known this was what he'd be facing, had time to sit with it, would he have made the same choices? Would he have swam, or sank?

Wasn't that what it always was? Sink or swim, with no time to see what was coming until it arrived? They hadn't expected Leviathan to turn out this way, either. Nor their ride here, nor their expedition into the desert. It was always this. Think fast, nimrods! The scariest shit you've ever seen is right on top of you!

If you stop to realize that, you're already dead. That's the lesson.

So the test then was... were they ready to keep having to ask "how high" when the world they wanted to save told them to jump? No matter when, no matter where?

For his part, Rudolf hated every second of it. He wanted a damned break, he felt like he'd proven all this twice over.

...And that probably meant he was in for the long haul.

---

---

• _{1. Huh?}
• _{2. Nulshock. In civilized tongues with real, respectable understandings of magic, it's called Nulshock, not Barthunder. I thought this vessel of mine was the educated one.}
• _{3. At this point, my mind is racing as quick as it can to try and turn my aether currents around to put some passable buffer between those two (in fairness, most immediately vital) organs and whatever electric rolloff makes it past the ward his mage has so kindly bestowed onto him, likely knowing the type of nincompoop she was tagging along with beneath his facade of pursuing most effective tactic available. It's obvious to me that this 'all or nothing' approach is the idea he's latching onto as a response for the need to act immediately— a plan that he can put into action before he terror spirals. One of these days he'll realize that this is what he's been doing the whole time, but that's a discussion for moments where I'm not about to learn if I can use the expression of my presence to reroute the path lightning takes as it tries to ground itself. This is a bit more complicated than simply digging a channel through the side of a riverbank, Rudolf.}
• _{4. Obviously the genuine article is more draconic, but those ancient scribes and artists that most of the continent's religious iconography stemmed from probably had a hard time getting their heads around depicting that— and went with a ram's head because they felt some connection to the astrological Capricorn was poignant, or because that was the closest thing they could think of that they had seen that had horns. You'd be appalled to learn how much of your understanding of history and myth is just heavily mangled guesses made by sheltered idiots.}
• <sub>5. I burn more luck, he gets more flame, the lightning and the lizard man get more inclination to strike him twice, thrice, and so on, instead of his pals. Everyone wins! This is some ruthless calculus at play, even if it works. I'd be over the moon with it, of course, if my continued existence weren't tied to the idea that this team can outpace the punishment we're inviting onto ourselves. The principle of taking a clear cause-and-effect chain that's dumpstering you from most reasonable outlooks and bending it over your knee until you pull some kind of advantage from it is what I'm all about. These systems are made to be tamed. It's fun viewing when somebody clues into that.
  
  I just don't appreciate having my essence tied to the margins being played. It's little wonder I keep being compelled to chime in.</sub>

---

The beasts were wrapped up in short order- an expected outcome, honestly. Especially with an Eidolon in the mix, it was really only a matter of time before the beasts were routed from this apparently holy place. The holy land of Ramuh was apparently rather simple, a grove with a clearing, with naught adorning it but a single stone in the center. Ascetic, perhaps. Izayoi was quick to grill Cid about what had happened and his true nature, his answers to which were... sensible enough, if somewhat annoying.

"I think it would've been quite a bit more convenient for us if you had told the Grovemasters about your extended lifespan- maybe a few decades earlier. Galahad remarked, but left well enough alone. Further discussion with Cid about what to do going forward might've have been the next logical step, but they were interrupted by the Eidolon of lightning, Ramuh himself. He vouched for Cid's truthfulness, which Galahad in particular didn't really question, what Galahad didn't- though perhaps should have expected was Ramuh's desire to test their mettle and worthiness.

"I don't suppose we have a say in this." Galahad remarked, even as the steelclad dragon arrived with a crash of lightning and thunder. "I suppose not."

Galahad rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, even as thundagas began to strike the battlefield at random. Well, at least this one looked like a dragon. That was something he was much more comfortable fighting. He glanced at his hands as he felt Miina's spell sink into them, he supposed the feeling he felt was 'insulated'. His dragoon armor was already faintly lightning resistant- but with Miina's spell as well, he felt fairly well protected from electricity. Rudolf rushed past them, engaging the foe from the front, leaving the flanks open for the rest of them.

They were as protected as they could be from electricity, and had a warrior holding the front for them. Now it was on the rest of the party to start dealing some damage. "Now! Hit it from the flanks!" he shouted. "Look for breaks in the armor- aim for vitals, neck, or limbs to cripple it!"

With a short sprint as a lead up, Galahad leaped into the air, his halberd flashing in the daylight as he spun it in his hand. Fighting dragons was literally what he was trained to do. He carried such a front heavy halberd for exactly foes like this. As he twisted in the air, Galahad found his first target- the joint where the wing met the back- and dove for it. His halberd flashed as he brought it down with as much strength as he could muster. Even if he couldn't sever the wing, if he could injure it enough, the creature would be effectively grounded.

---

"Esben, isn't this fun?"

She didn't wait or even look back to see the icy stare that was all the reply Esben had to give. Luckily, they solved the issue of the beasts without him really having to take part at all beyond directing Selene and Eos around—only for another test to come their way. Cid's glance went ignored as Adrammelech landed in the center of the clearing, roaring challenge at the Kirins. He jumped back, avoiding a bolt of lightning that blasted into the earth where he'd just been standing. Eos fluttered back near him, though Selene continued to hover around the entire group, flitting back and forth to avoid the electricity crashing around.

"Everybody fall ba—"

Rudolf charged forwards. No chance to even try and come up with a plan before having to account for the others taking matters into their own hands. One of these days they would all have to try and outline it all before the fights began, rather than trusting on each other to just instantly adapt to everything. Galahad followed suit, issuing his own command. All well and good for a dragoon, basic guidance but still correct.

Not exactly what they should all do today.

"Éliane, Chisato, each of you pick a side and harry it," he commanded. "Don't let it rip Rudolf to shreds—interrupt it while he keeps its attention, and help him keep it off of Galahad. Izayoi, help Galahad or Rudolf as the need arises. Miina, we're holding back for now, keep the spell up as long as you can. Eos, stick to Rudolf until I say otherwise—don't let him cook himself."

The green fairy sped off as he backpedaled, sword loose in one hand with his buckler raised between himself and the Eidolon's servant. It wouldn't provide much against any lightning, but should it try to swipe at him with its claws it could easily prove the difference between life and death.

Irritable as it made him, mapping out the forest in his head would have to wait; first he'd have to hope the others would at least be willing to listen to what he said, rather than crashing about like wolf puppies on their first hunt.

---

Truthfully, is this necessary?

The scent of the air burning and the ringing echo in my ears, the tingling flowing across my skin from the narrow miss of the lightning strike---

I'd only just managed to dodge.

Is it truly necessary to give us such a test?

Really?

I press my lips together as my feet hit the ground, adjusting my grip on my katana as my eyes fix on the next opponent. Large. Armored. It looks like steel.

It'll be difficult to strike anything vital with such a big target. My supplies---

I can't get that right now, and it would be far too difficult to set it up in time to take a shot.

---The Edren men are taking initiative at least. I suppose I can't complain about that.

I suck in a deep breath. My best chance at doing any sort of harm, even minor, is to aim for any of the gaps in the armor, or if I can pinpoint them the eyes. Blinding the enemy and injuring them at the same time would be one of the best ways to open them up for further damage, but they're hardly an easy target.

---Mathiassen-san has the right idea. I'd been coming to a similar conclusion myself already.

We'll approach from multiple angles, keep his focus from centering on any one of us, and wear him down so that greater damage can be done to end this unnecessary fight all the more swiftly.

I lean forward, my free hand reaching into my bag---

And the green world blurs as I move. My kunai may or may not slip through the gaps, but the mere possibility of them doing so would at least draw some attention.

With a flick of my wrist I release one, then two, then three, their black points piercing the air as they hurtle towards the draconic monster.

The fourth, however---

Sagramore is too close for me to use one of the bombs, but that doesn't mean I can't do something like this.

Heat flows from my fingers and over the edge of the black blade. Build it. Build it. Build it. Build it. Until the edge is white hot, until the air is sizzling, until that heat has become compressed into a miniaturized firestorm within my kunai.

---And release.

It hurtles towards the armored monster's flank, promising to release a concentrated burst of flame on impact! Even if it doesn't do much damage, the impact can't just be ignored!