Shirou had known that Pasha was strong from the moment she saved him.
Watching her effortless slaughter beasts that could effortlessly kill him made her strength impossible to ignore.
And yet, thinking back on that moment in the woods and comparing it to what he was watching now. Shirou realized he hadn't understood what the word "strength" even meant.
The entire platform he stood on groaned and shook from the force of Pasha rocketing away.
In the second that Shirou recovered from the shaking, Pasha had already smashed into the enemy formation. By the time he was able to look back at the fighting he saw the barriers that had turned back the combined firepower of three Ȁ̵̱̀ŗ̸̔t̶͔̎s̴̢̊̓ cannons get torn straight through by a meteorite of steel and fury.
It may have been a trick of his mind but it almost seemed that everything was still for a moment after Pasha landed. As though the entire battle had deigned her worth pausing for.
That moment didn't last and without any great fanfare the bombardment of the cannons continued just as Pasha herself charged forward and began tearing her way through the [Awakened] soldiers like chaff.
With the cohesion of their advance broken and their shields disrupted the cannon shots had free reign to land once more.
Explosions bloomed across the enemy every shot vaporizing those they hit and sending the mangled bodies of those nearby into the air. Even through the carnage of the bombardments Shirou could see a path of bloodied bodies being tossed up into the air as Pasha rampaged through the enemy. Bodies being tossed up haphazardly with bleeding slashes or pulverized limbs.
[Awakened] men and women, each empowered by their technique of their people were being torn limb from limb by Pasha's armoured claws as she sped past them. Each of them surviving only one or two strikes before their deaths.
A woman with some kind of fire manipulation ability drew up a wall of flames, only to be smothered by a gust of wind from Pasha's hand. The woman's look of surprise stayed on her face even as Pasha sprinted past and punched her head from her shoulders.
A man with the power to shift his body into water survived two swipes to the head then earned a lightning coated fist to the chest. Any budding look of superiority he'd had died alongside him when his body boiled and exploded.
A man with cherry red skin roared as he smashed his way forward, standing heads and shoulders above the soldiers around him. His fists were easily the size of Pasha's own head and as he smashed them down at her the blasts of sand they caused proved his strength. It didn't matter much though when Pasha dodged his strikes and ripped his throat open with the razor edge of her clawed gauntlets.
Every second the death toll she was reaping rose, and despite the varied abilities that they had to try and counter her, Pasha kept cutting a bloody swath through the [Awakened] soldiers like they were fodder. At the pace she was going, Pasha almost seemed to be killing more than the artillery bombardment was.
The sight of it all was equal parts grizzly and heartening in Shirou's eyes.
Given how well the enemy offensive had been rebuffed it almost seemed like the battle would soon be handled. The defensive lines were handling the normal enemy soldiers readily as not a single normal enemy had managed to breach the trenches, and it didn't seem they would any time soon.
Pasha was managing to effortlessly draw the more serious threats to her and leave them easy pickings for the cannons. Even when the enemy tried to rally and put up new barriers, Pasha was quick to sprint straight to them and cut them down.
When Shirou resumed his own firing and started launching explosive arrows at the outer edges of the massed [Awakened] troops it only added to the chaos. Every shot he fired was enough to send a half dozen of them into the air, and kill at least a few based on the runes flicking across his peripheral vision.
[You have slain a Awakened Human, Unnamed]
[You have slain a Awakened Human, Unnamed]
[You have slain a Awakened Human, Unnamed]
Already the throng of soldiers rushing to strike at Pasha was thinning out and stragglers turning back to charge at the ships again. Yet with no cohesive defence to speak of they and their chariots were picked off before they made it far.
The sight of the tide of the battle was beginning to lift Shirou's spirit. He knew there was supposedly a great threat hanging back but at the rate enemies were dying it seemed like the enemy forces wouldn't last much longer.
His optimism died when the Light of Lugalszargus's Ȁ̵̱̀ŗ̸̔t̶͔̎s̴̢̊̓ cannon exploded.
XxXxXxXxXxXxX
Pasha's focus was torn from the man she had just beheaded when she heard the explosion, less due to its sound and more from its direction.
She had been tuning out the sound and pressure waves of the Ȁ̵̱̀ŗ̸̔t̶͔̎s̴̢̊ cannons as they landed around her but something like that coming from behind was enough to draw attention. When she turned and looked, a pit in her stomach opened up.
Black smoke flowed out of the mangled wreck of the Light of Lugalszargus's main gun so thickly that it lingered even in the high winds. The gun itself was a twisted wreck of steel and melted metal and the deck around it was riddled with huge holes, likely the O̸̝̕ř̵̺i̶̮̋g̸̰͒i̴̼͠ṉ̴̿i̴͚͗u̴͋͜ḿ̷̖ stores exploding alongside the gun.
All the glass of the command tower had been shattered and although the hull of the ship held admirably, there was a wide radius around the gun that had been cleared of people.
Hopefully they were pushed back and were ok, but a grim part of Pasha doubted it. That doubt grew worse as secondary explosions and fires broke out across the ship.
As horrifying as the sight was, the pragmatic part of Pasha's mind buried her worry and fear to focus on what mattered most right now. It wasn't hard to imagine what could have caused that and one quick look around her was all it took to find the culprits.
Riding in behind their [Awakened] compatriots was a new group of soldiers, dressed in even more impressive armor and each carrying a far more worrying aura of strength.
One in particular was bent over as though he had just thrown something and held a triumphant look on his face. He stood back up and reached down into his chariot, hefting a large javelin adorned with faintly glowing runes.
Pasha was already charging forward even as the two women beside him ran their hands along the weapon and the glow of the runes grew brighter. It didn't take a genius to see that the trio had abilities hand picked to make them an artillery team and she wasn't willing to let them have another shot.
However unlike the easy foes she had been fighting until now, Pasha's attack was rebuffed before she could land a fatal strike.
One of the women had drawn a sword and swung at Pasha's gauntlet, the force enough to send her strike wide. The other answered Pasha's open guard with a swing of a warhammer even as the man behind them kept drawing back his spear, seemingly charging an ability to throw it again.
Pasha was quick to dodge the hammer blow and draw on her own [Awakened] and [Ascended] abilities alongside her Ȁ̵̱̀ŗ̸̔t̶͔̎s̴̢̊̓ . The ranging winds around her gave force to her blow and with a deafening thunderclap her fist shot out, catching the hammer wielding woman off guard as Pasha's fist practically teleported into her skull.
The sound and shockwave of the attack was enough to distract the other two for a fateful second. Plenty of time for Pasha to strike again and kill the other woman.
With both of his companions dead the javelin wielding man paused, momentarily debating where to throw his weapon. He didn't get the chance to decide before Pasha made the choice for him and charged.
The man shifted his feet and jabbed the weapon forward, intent on blowing up both himself and Pasha, but rather than meeting resistance the weapon went through Pasha like she was a ghost.
Without the expected resistance he was left flatfooted for a critical moment when Pasha stepped forward and drove her lightning coated fist through his head. Had he been able to see from beyond the grave he would have seen a half dozen of the O̸̝̕ř̵̺i̶̮̋g̸̰͒i̴̼͠ṉ̴̿i̴͚͗u̴͋͜ḿ̷̖ gems on Pasha's armor glow and then crumble to dust as soon as she phased through his weapon.
Despite the fact that they still ended up beaten, those three had caused more damage and been harder to put down than the entire force of [Awakened] before them. And they were hardly the only new foes to face.
Yet more chariots continued forward, each manned by soldiers who had the same aura of strength as those three, making the unpleasant reality impossible to ignore.
The enemy's [Ascended] were entering the battlefield.
XxXxXxXxXxXxX
Shirou's ears were ringing and his vision was filled with stars. His mind felt thick and muddled, his thoughts coming to him like he was dredging them up from a pit of mud.
Far too slowly for the situation his thoughts came back to him. The blast that erupted on the ship, the shockwave that followed. A glance around him was enough to see that he was not on the observation tower anymore and instead was laying on the aftdeck. The shockwave had blown him away and down over twenty meters to the deck below.
As he tried to force his body to stand and move Shirou was struck by a wave of dizziness and vertigo that forced him onto his back.
His ears were drowned out by ringing and he couldn't make out any sounds but as his mind regained its bearing and fought against what had to be a concussion he knew he couldn't stay down.
People all around him were dying. Good people who he was supposed to protect.
With a grunt of effort he flipped himself onto his stomach and shakily raised himself up to his hands and knees. The stars in his eyes were still there, twinkling across his vision as he looked down at the deck under him. It felt as if the ship was rocking and rolling on ocean waves despite all Shirou's logic telling him they were still in the middle of a desert.
As he worked to try and steady his breathing and get himself to his feet, Shirou was lifted from the ground by a pair of arms and gently hauled to the wall of the bridge. A groggy glance to his side showed a sargonian Soldier carrying him. Despite the man's mouth moving Shirou could only hear the muffled outline of his words.
The soldier seemed to grow more and more panicked as Shirou blankly stared at him until they got to the wall and he was propped against it.
The soldier waved his hand in front of Shirou's face, seemingly with such speed that trailing after images were left behind. It was all he could do to try and follow the man with his eyes let alone try and decipher what he was saying and respond.
Before the one-sided round of charades could continue further a woman with an Ȁ̵̱̀ŗ̸̔t̶͔̎s̴̢̊̓ staff entered Shirou's line of sight. She looked down at Shirou for a moment before gesturing her staff over top of him and channeling what had to be her own Ȁ̵̱̀ŗ̸̔t̶͔̎s̴̢̊̓.
Almost immediately the cotton was pulled from Shirou's ears and the tar bogging down his mind melted away. As a faint green glow suffused his body the ringing of his ears and the stars in his eyes faded and he was thrust back into the battlefield.
"SIR CAN YOU HEAR ME?!" The soldier that had carried him was shouting now in front of Shirou, half to try and cut through his former deafness and half to overpower the sounds of cannons and fires around them.
"I can now!" Shirou shouted back as he pushed himself back up from the wall. With his head apparently mended the remaining pains in his body were a simple matter to handle and push past. "Status Report!"
The soldier's worry for Shirou seemed to melt as discipline took over and he nodded "We took a hit from something. Main gun was blown to Kazdel along with all the magazines. We've got fires across the ship and three trucks' worth of wounded."
"Why didnt the Ȁ̵̱̀ŗ̸̔t̶͔̎s̴̢̊̓ arrays stop it?" Shirou was no expert on the vessels but Pasa and Nishka had forced him into enough breaks that he was left with free time to learn. He didn't know much but he did know the ships were meant to have shielding against such direct attacks as that.
The soldiers face twisted into a grimace of rage "The fucking arrays exploded as soon as they were put under load! Ancestors only know if it was a decayed circuit or a design flaw no one ever tested but the end's the same! We've got no hull shielding and active O̸̝̕ř̵̺i̶̮̋g̸̰͒i̴̼͠ṉ̴̿i̴͚͗u̴͋͜ḿ̷̖ fires across the ship! The captain…"
The rumble of the other ships' cannons drowned out his words but he was quick to repeat himself. "THE CAPTAIN NEEDS YOU FIRING AGAIN! We've got some of their better troops ignoring Guard Captain Pasha and heading here!"
Shirou digested the man's words and offered him a nod as he shakily ran towards the ship's railing and the mass of Ć̵͖ȃ̶͕͍ş̸̓͑t̷͚͛è̴̙r̸̻͠s̷̨̛͈ and crossbowmen along it. "I've still got my bow but I need someone to grab all the arrows they can!"
His words earned a nod "You'll have them Sir, even if we need to climb down and pry them out of their corpses ourselves."
Shirou nodded to the man then hefted his bow and made his way back to the centerdeck.When he arrived he saw the state of the ship and the battle.
It wasn't going well.
The Light of Lugalszargus had the middle of its deck almost completely blown off. The cannon that had been mounted in its center was now a twisted monument of half molten steel and ruptured cables, all draped under a coat of smouldering flames.
The fires themselves were blazing with an unhealthy range of colors as they crawled across the deck. Across the armored deck the flames were a low yellow and orange, but every gust of O̸̝̕ř̵̺i̶̮̋g̸̰͒i̴̼͠ṉ̴̿i̴͚͗u̴͋͜ḿ̷̖ laden wind caused them to rise higher and crackle with sparks of red.
The main gun was draped in flames of caustic green and electric blue that poured out from the ruptured cables along its back.
Billowing up from every hole to the deck below were jets of black flame, likely caused by the burning O̸̝̕ř̵̺i̶̮̋g̸̰͒i̴̼͠ṉ̴̿i̴͚͗u̴͋͜ḿ̷̖ stores the soldier had mentioned.
The sight of a veritable rainbow of flames raging in an environment that was stoking them higher and higher with every gust should have demanded everyone's attention. Despite the danger of the flames, all the soldiers along the deck were focussed solely on the battle.
It seemed foolish at first but one look at the battle below them was enough to see that they had no choice.
The various [Awakened] soldiers that had been held up by Pasha were now charging forward alongside their more basic and mundane counterparts. The entry of their [Ascended] brethren was more than enough to keep the feline woman busy.
They had also taken to scattering themselves around throughout the mundane troops which made them much harder to pick off for the two remaining cannons.
That left the bolt throwers, crossbowmen, and Ć̵͖ȃ̶͕͍ş̸̓͑t̷͚͛è̴̙r̸̻͠s̷̨̛͈ to deal with them but unlike the simple mundane troops, the [Awakened] soldiers had a far better time making their way forward.
They had been getting torn to shreds by Pasha so easily that any threat they held seemed non-existent. Now pitted against the mundane sargonians made it clear just how dangerous they really were.
Barriers of earth, water, sand, and wind leapt up and deflected bolts and arrows as they were launched. Ȁ̵̱̀ŗ̸̔t̶͔̎s̴̢̊̓ attacks from Ć̵͖ȃ̶͕͍ş̸̓͑t̷͚͛è̴̙r̸̻͠s̷̨̛͈ were met with equally mystic retaliation and turned away. And when they finally reached the Sargonian melee line the [Awakened] proved that they were nothing like their weaker compatriots.
The mundane troops before had been ground away against the Sargonian line like little more than suicidal fodder. The [Awakened] though proved stronger, faster, and infinitely more adaptable which immediately pulled the advantage from the Sargonians.
A single [Awakened] was enough to punch through and overwhelm the sargonian melee line and then let in a tide of mundane forces behind them. The only thing stopping the ships from being scaled was the enemy's nigh frenetic desire to strike at the melee troops first before trying to climb the ships.
That bit of tactical oversight was possibly the last thread holding things together, as it let the ranged troops on the ships fire straight down freely and create one last killing field in front of the ships. Having their own allies nearby still kept the heavier weapons trained at the more distant foes, but all the crossbows and many of the Ć̵͖ȃ̶͕͍ş̸̓͑t̷͚͛è̴̙r̸̻͠s̷̨̛͈ were hurling everything they could straight down.
The sight of all the mounting carnage was weighing heavy on a muffled part of Shirou's mind that was being ignored as the battle raged on. The gravity of everything happening now could wait until after the fighting was finished.
He took point along the railing and readied his bow, taking aim at a spear wielding [Awakened] woman who seemed able to stretch and contort her body to her whims as though she had no bones.
It was an interesting ability and considering all the Sargonian bodies around her it was also a deadly one. When she combined it with the basic enhanced strength, speed, and durability she and all other [Awakened] possessed, it made her a truly impressive foe.
A lance of metal hitting her head at the speed of sound made her into an impressive corpse.
[You have slain a Awakened Human, Unnamed]
The soldiers around Shirou were jerked out of the rhythm of their own firing when the crack of his bow went off beside them. They spared themselves only moments though before continuing their own barrage, spurned on by the living artillery piece next to them.
The soldiers down below equally rallied when the arrow crashed down. The scattered forces that had been barely holding on against the woman moments before surged and charged back to the crumbling defensive line. The mere minute since the woman broke through had been enough to let dozens of mundane soldiers pour in, but they were easily pushed back once the Sargonians were free.
The scene below Shirou was hardly isolated. Across the nearly kilometer long battle line dozens of [Awakened] had managed to make contact with the melee troops and were laying waste to anyone in their way.
The death toll was mounting, much more would begin a downward spiral and more and more forces kept reaching the line. Shirou couldn't read the ebbs and flows of the conflict the way a seasoned general could but from what he saw if things kept going they wouldn't be able to hold much longer.
That wouldn't stop him from doing what he could and adding his own arrows back into the fray. With a glance across the battlefield Shirou found his next target in the form of a man expertly wielding a longsword as he cut through soldiers. With a burst of focus Shirou drew on his [Reinforcement: Rank E-] and felt the painful surge of energy flow through his limbs as he drew back the bow and fired.
The crack of a small sonic boon rang out once again as the arrow shot forward and another [Awakened] enemy fell dead, their uncanny abilities doing little against a bolt of steel they didn't see coming.
Shot after shot rang out of Shirou's bow, the booming cracks loud enough to leave his ears ringing. Despite that he continued to push himself as hard as he could, drawing energy through his body so much that an electric blue glow began to crackle off his arms as he strained them to the breaking point.
Despite all the effort Shirou was putting into holding the line though, the slow collapse continued.
Even as the holes punched in the defensive line were filled, it did not change the fact that the battle was pressing them further and further back.
The introduction of [Ascended] enemies had completely taken Pasha's attention, along with all the support the cannons could provide. It left the [Awakened] free to charge forward with the scattered mundane soldiers they had left.
The only thing that might be the caravan's saving grace was the fact that the great horde of foes had to be running out soon.
The vast killing field where the battle raged was already slick with blood and covered in bodies and broken chariots. Along the defensive line a meter high wall of cracked and broken chariots lay.
The caravan might be on a trajectory of losing but if they could hold out longer than the enemy's troops they might still survive.
Those thoughts churned away in the back of Shirou's mind as he kept firing shot after shot at any foe that seemed too strong.
As the battle raged his firing began to become meditative in a way. The pain in his arms grew almost distant as he fell into a rhythm of target, [Reinforce], fire, and repeat.
One more such target in a growing list of them charged toward the battle line, unique for the fact that he was running forward on foot rather than riding a chariot.
That alone was a touch odd but the more worrying issue was the fact that despite wearing heavy plate armor, carrying a thick curved longsword, and hefting a massive tower shield, the man was outrunning the chariots beside him.
That sight set him apart and drew fire towards him. Anti vehicle ballista adjusted and fired on him alongside automatic bolt launches. Rather than dodge or fall to them the man began expertly blocking, and in some cases parrying away bolts and arrows sent his way.
That was all Shirou needed to tell he was dangerous as he took aim at the man and drew back more on his own bow. The same painful sting filled his limbs as he pulled the siege bow back and the now familiar boom of his arrow thundered out.
But unlike all his opponents thus far Shirou's new target avoided the arrow entirely.
It was hard to guess what ability or talent let him do such a thing, but in the millisecond Shirou's fingers began relaxing to release the shot, the sword wielder had already begun to dodge. Whether it was precognition or some kind of danger sense mattered little as the end result was the same. The armored man was left still charging forward without breaking his stride.
The sight of an enemy surviving one of Shirou's shots didn't go unnoticed by the Sargonians and suddenly the fire falling on the man quadrupled.
Arrows poured onto him, yet every one was turned away or broke upon his armor or shield. Heavy bolts sent his way were sliced from the air like match sticks. Even blasts of Ȁ̵̱̀ŗ̸̔t̶͔̎s̴̢̊̓ were dodged and avoided with a horrifying level of grace.
Through it all the man's charge didn't stop or even slow and the closer he got the more frantically the defenders started firing at him.
Shirou ignored the rising pain in his arms and drew back on his bow once again. He took aim as the main charged and waited for the moment he was about to dodge two Ȁ̵̱̀ŗ̸̔t̶͔̎s̴̢̊̓ borne lances of lightning and ice. The second they were launched Shirou let instinct guide him and fired away from the man, aiming at the space the enemy would be forced to dodge into.
For a moment it seemed like a perfect plan. The man moved exactly as Shirou's instincts predicted he would, and was left him flat footed as one of the strongest pieces of weaponry in the caravan smashed into him.
What Shirou couldn't have predicted was the man simply lifting up his shield without slowing down.
The deep sound of a gong being struck echoed across the field as Shirou's bolt struck the shield and was deflected away. What had up until now been an unstoppable force proved itself lacking against an immovable object.
The sight of it dropped morale like a stone and even Shirou was left stunned by what he had just seen. The lance arrows he was using were solid steel and firing at frankly ludicrous speeds. To be able to shrug it off entirely…
No… there wasn't any time to be worrying or feeling dread. With a moment's thought Shirou reached down and grabbed another bolt. He regretting now more than ever that the Ȁ̵̱̀ŗ̸̔t̶͔̎s̴̢̊̓ tipped versions had detonated themselves when he was blown off the bridge. Even with only normal steel though arrows, he had another trick he could lean on.
He'd had time over the last several days to experiment and refine the strange technique he had learned. He was still hardly an expert at it but he did know that his [Reinforcement: Rank E-] could apply to more than just himself. It had been pushing said ability too far that cost him his sword back in the forest.
With that thought in mind he drew upon the energies around him once more, fighting through the mounting pain from his arms and his chest as he [Reinforced] not only them, but also the bow and arrow in his hands.
Across the surfaces of both weapons angular blue lines danced while Shirou tried to focus and regulate what he was doing.
He still understood frustratingly little about the process but he knew that going too far would cause it all to shatter. Instead he tried to walk right up to that line, pouring the current of energy flowing through him into the weapons as he tried to imagine them becoming something more.
The same pattern glowing along his arms took shape over bow and arrow both as they became more than they were. Harder, stronger, sharper, heavier, they became better in every category possible to support the purpose of causing harm. Shirou couldn't tell how close he was to breaking them, but he could feel that keeping it all stable wouldn't last long.
With both his bow steaming with heat and pale blue light Shirou knocked his arrow and took aim. Down below the man had neared the melee line and the mound of overturned chariots that marked it.
With a breath to center himself against the pain, Shirou pulled back on his bow string, and forced himself to push the [Reinforcement] in his arms harder and harder to account for the newly strengthened bow.
The strain of pulling the cable back was far more than before, but as Shirou drew more and more energy into his arms he managed to slowly pull back. The further back he pulled, the heavier the strain became, to the point that blood began to trickle down his [Reinforced] fingers.
In the back of his mind he faintly understood that something was happening to his body as he pulled, but in the moment all he could focus on was the river of energy tearing through his arms and keeping his aim centered on the man below him.
The armoured soldier cleared the battle line of broken chariots with a thunderous crash, sending scattered chunks of metal and timber dozens of meters into the air as he charged through like a freight train.
In a true credit to their bravery the Sargonian soldiers present below didn't hesitate to charge forward, their rage filled roars adding to the cacophony of battle around them.
The soldier didn't even slow as he tore through them, a single swing of his blade bisecting a half dozen Sargonians. The bombardment of Bolts, Ȁ̵̱̀ŗ̸̔t̶͔̎s̴̢̊̓, and arrows coming his way hadn't slowed and rather than dodging as he had before he simply plowed through them.
A full bombardment fell his way, and dozens of soldiers died in front of him, but the soldier kept charging, picking up speed despite every attempt to slow or stop him. It was not until he cleared the moshpit of melee fighters and reached the defensive trench that his charge ended.
Though that was only because he suddenly jumped.
It should have been a comical sight, a soldier decked in thick archaic armor plate leaping in the air in a futile attempt to scale the forty meter hull of a landship.
It was anything but futile though, and with a single leap the man carried all his momentum upwards as he practically flew forwards on a direct collision course with the top of the deck.
That was as perfect a shot as Shirou could have dreamed of though. He lined up his shot at the target flying straight at him and released the painful, bleeding deathgrip he had on his bow string.
The sound of Shirou's siege bow had become common for the soldiers of the caravan over recent days. The crack of the bow's cable, and a faint boom when the arrow broke the sound barrier. That sound played as much of a role in earning Shirou his moniker as a "living artillery piece" as the weapon's actual performance.
What came when Shirou released his reinforced bowstring was nothing like that sound.
The crack of string had been replaced by a literal explosion of metal and heat as Shirou's bow exploded in his hands. Whole chunks of metal were rendered molten by the sudden release of their own stored heat. The once faint sonic boom of the arrow had grown larger and been doubled. Two shockwaves formed around the arrow's path as it broke the sound barrier twice over.
Those sounds didn't compare to what came when the arrow met its mark. The soldier who had so far been an immovable object had no way to dodge mid air, and instead hefted his shield up intent on tanking the blow once more.
Unlike before Shirou's shot was not found lacking and when the barbed bolt of supersonic metal hit the native's shield it did not crumble under its own power or get deflected away like a nuisance.
A thundering boom rang out across the battlefield as the arrow tore through the shield and turned the man's arm into a mangled mess of flesh.
XxXxXxXxXxXxX
Pasha ducked under a flaming warhammer and drove her fist into an [Ascended] man's chest.
The blow landed with a crack of thunder and electricity, sending him skidding back across the sand. Before she could chase him down and follow up with another strike she was forced away as two more [Ascended] attacked her from the sides.
With a shuffle of her feet, and a burst of her own [Awakened] and [Ascended] abilities Pasha shot forward at them, moving with the speed of the winds around her and striking with the force of a lightning bolt.
That same power and speed combined with her Terran physiology was enough to make her a god compared to normal people, and a terror even to [Awakened]. Now that she was fighting people in her own weight class though it was starting to come up short.
Rather than be overwhelmed and slain, the two held their own against her and even pushed Pasha back, giving their warhammer wielding ally time to right himself and stand back up.
A rage filled curse tore itself from Pasha's throat as she called on her Ȁ̵̱̀ŗ̸̔t̶͔̎s̴̢̊̓ and added them to the mix. Arcs of lightning surged across her body before being sucked back in and stored. She charged forward once more, moving faster and striking even harder.
The group fought annoyingly well, all of Pasha's latest foes did unfortunately. The only things letting her still hold her own was her own Terran physiology and the dozens of national treasures she was currently burning through like cheap trinkets.
Her Terran nature was proving its worth by giving her a base speed and strength far beyond her opponents. Even if they could wipe the floor with her fellow Sargonians, Pasha could go toe to toe with them and beyond. That alone was not the most useful thing about her heritage though, instead that would have to be her rather simple Ȁ̵̱̀ŗ̸̔t̶͔̎s̴̢̊̓.
It was almost ironic to think about her Ȁ̵̱̀ŗ̸̔t̶͔̎s̴̢̊̓ so fondly considering Pasha had spent most of her life resentful of them. She not only had a low aptitude for them to begin, with which prevented her from being a proper Ć̵͖ȃ̶͕͍ş̸̓͑t̷͚͛è̴̙r̸̻͠, but also had rather unimpressive Ȁ̵̱̀ŗ̸̔t̶͔̎s̴̢̊̓ overall. Afterall how useful would it be for most people to be able to create electricity from their own bodies if all it did was leave them electrocuted.
In the hands of someone whose [Awakened] ability let her absorb electrical energy into herself to move faster and hit harder such Ȁ̵̱̀ŗ̸̔t̶͔̎s̴̢̊̓ became downright terrifying.
It was that simple combination that had been carrying her though every fight since the enemy [Ascended] arrived. Pasha could hardly rely on her base strength and speed against foes like them in the numbers they had.
Even that was proving to be too little against so many though, a fact once more proven as a lanky enemy appeared behind her and plunged a knife at Pasha's back.
With a forceful burst of Ȁ̵̱̀ŗ̸̔t̶͔̎s̴̢̊̓ three gems on Pasha's back glowed like miniature suns as the whole world around her slowed to a crawl. She didn't waste the moments granted and spun away from the stealthy blade then followed up with razor sharp claw strikes to the throats of the four around her.
By her own timescale it had been less than two seconds before the gems on her back crumbled into dust and were swept away by the wind.
Four corpses fell to the sand around the panting Feline woman, a rather heavy trade for sacrificing three irreplaceable treasures of her people's past.
Pasha was not a proper Ć̵͖ȃ̶͕͍ş̸̓͑t̷͚͛è̴̙r̸̻͠, and the nuances of using originium based tools properly was beyond her. That didn't mean she wasn't capable of crudely using them in a pinch though, which was the very approach she used to brute force the gems across her armor.
Each one of them had been plundered from the treasure wagon and may well be that last of their kind in the whole of Sargon. Pasha was hardly an expert but even she knew that the art of creating O̸̝̕ř̵̺i̶̮̋g̸̰͒i̴̼͠ṉ̴̿i̴͚͗u̴͋͜ḿ̷̖ etched gems had been lost thousands of years ago.
Menat-Ha'mait was a unique city in Sargon since it once housed the ancient gem crafters and carvers. As a result their city boasted the only stock of such irreplaceable treasures on Terra, aside from any hidden stores the capital held.
And Pasha had grabbed every single useful one she could and mounted them to her armor, turning treasures that a skilled Ć̵͖ȃ̶͕͍ş̸̓͑t̷͚͛è̴̙r̸̻͠ could wield for a lifetime into single use trinkets.
Their value didn't matter now though. It was pointless to consider that each one of them could buy a battleship when the whole world was falling to pieces and she was the only one who could help her people.
Added to the benefit her Ȁ̵̱̀ŗ̸̔t̶͔̎s̴̢̊̓ gave her, the gems were giving Pasha just enough leeway to keep alive despite the forces coming at her. It was a precarious balance though, and one that she was beginning to have trouble holding on to.
The [Ascended] she was facing were more hesitant to charge her en-mass than their lesser companions had been. Whether that was due to personal pride or caution on their part didn't matter much since it still gave Pasha the chance to engage teams at a time.
That feeling seemed to be shifting though, as more and more of the mass of them started closing in on her. The sneak attack before was far from the first, and when already fighting others she was forced to rely on her dwindling gem supply to survive. Not to mention the drain on her stamina.
Already she was running on fumes, muscles crying out in exhaustion and her skull throbbing and aching from the strain of successive Ȁ̵̱̀ŗ̸̔t̶͔̎s̴̢̊̓ use. The amount of gems she was burning would only increase as things went, and once she used them all up…
Despite that issue though there was a silver lining. Afterall Pasha was giving as good as she got and had already left a trail of bodies behind her.
[Ascended] couldn't be as numerous as their lessers, and already the group surrounding her seemed to be thinner. If she kept up her pace and could finish them all off then there might actually be a chance for the caravan to win this battle.
All Pasha had to do was keep going through the melee around her and keep picking enemies off one by one. Despite the abilities and strength they possessed Pasha was herself more than a match for a human [Ascended].
"Well now… maybe this won't be too boring afterall?"
Pasha spun away from the man she just killed and threw a right hook at the voice behind her. With a thought she called on her abilities and coated her fist with crackling electricity even as it accelerated forward with all the power of a thunder bolt.
It landed with a crack and burst of lightning throwing up the desert sand around her and shrouding her target from view.
When the sand was swept away Pasha saw a man looking calm and unbothered by the world around him.
He wore an elegant red toga, wrapped with a golden sash and covered by a simple leather cuirass. Even as winds strong enough to shake trees raged on, his clothes only lightly fluttered and the red locks of hair on his head barely rustled.
It was as though nature was being cowed into submission by his presence, and if not for the slight fluttering he might be mistaken for a ghost or a desert mirage. Pasha didn't have the luxury of thinking he was imaginary though…
No ghost could stop her fist with a simple raised palm.
"Interesting." He muttered as his fingers closed on Pasha's gauntlet tight enough to bend the steel. "I was actually getting ready to give up on taking part in this farce. You're not what I expected your kind to be like. Let's see how strong you are?"
A fist crashed into Pasha's stomach, a split second after 6 gems on Pasha's back glowed a bright blue.
"Oh?" As the gems glowed Pasha's fist slipped from the man's grip just as his fist snapped out and flew through her. The shockwave of his punch alone was enough to kick up a wave of desert sand.
As the gems on her back crumbled to dust Pasha ducked down, twisted her arm up and sent another full powered punch at the man's exposed flank. He was still standing in the same position, eyes blinking in amused surprise at how she had escaped which left his side wide open.
"Impressive! You're full of tricks aren't you?" Another thunder clap rang out, and once more Pasha's hand slammed into an open palm that felt as unmovable as a mountain.
"I'm afraid tricks won't be enough for me though." His palm clamped down on Pasha's fist so tightly that her fingers fractured, blood trickling through the warped metal of her gauntlet.
His fist fist drew back once more, and Pasha desperately drew on the gems she could. There were none left to grant her the intangibility to slip from his grasp. All that remained was an array that slowed time around her. They lit up and the world around her slowed to a crawl, but did nothing to free her trapped hand.
What was worse is that even as the sand grains in the air were frozen in place, her opponent was able to move.
"Welllll nowwww thatssss anotherrrrr cool trickkkkk!" Rather than be frozen solid he simply spoke and moved at half speed. He looked at Pasha with a curious glint in his eye, like he was examining an interesting trinket or an impressive toy.
Pasha began furiously punching at her trapped fist, and kicking out with her legs in the window of speed she had. She tried everything she could to free her fist yet through it all the man's grip held fast.
Just before her last gem crumbled to dust and faded, Pasha's fist was released. She didn't even have a moment to relish her freedom before a new fist slammed into her stomach, despite how fast she should have been.
For a single second as his fist dug into Pasha's armor she looked up and caught sight of the man before her. He was still smiling and looking like a kid playing with an insect despite all the effort she had put into fighting him.
Part of her mind had been cultivating a desperate and delusional prayer that this army was led by a particularly talented [Ascended] or maybe a group of them sharing command.
Deep down she had known the truth from the beginning though. She had seen the thermals herself, seen the image of one man wreathed by the heat of the sun. Knew that only one type of person could be heading an army this large.
As the [Transcendent]'s fist dug into her stomach and the last gem on her back crumbled, Pasha was shot hundreds of meters back at the caravan and slammed into a battleship's hull.