Steel Blade!

by Alsvid

X.

Word spread rapidly among the mercenary camp, the Professor’s household, and the Pegasus Triarii of the combatants preparing to square-off in the yard.

Whispers ran from ear to ear, and even a few of the Auxiliari Architecti set down their tools and ran to the newly laid courtyard to watch the spectacle.

“Did you hear? Leo’s about to take on the Knight-Captain!”

“She’s almost twice his size! He must be insane!”

“She’ll crush him into jelly!”

“I don’t envy the fellow,” a rotund, big-bellied Auxiliari Architecti stallion declared to all who would listen. “Those Triarii charge like wildfire and weigh near the same as a wayn with a full load. What was he thinking, challenging one of those advancing giants? You know, the Triarii only accept the largest ponies that they can find. It’s suicide, taking one of them on.” He scratched his stubbly chin.

“Leo’s tough!” Jean Silverhoof, the tiny Unicorn colt, shouted back at the Auxiliari Architecti. “You don’t know what you’re saying. He’s gonna kick her flanks, you just watch.”

The Auxiliari Architecti, whose name was Plumb Bob, sneered. “You wanna bet on that, kid?”

“Sure thing, chump,” Jean said. “How much?”

“You’ve got a lot of stones, kid. Let’s see…how about twenty bits on the Knight-Captain?” Plumb Bob said.

“Fine! I’ll raise you forty bits if Commander Leo wins!”

“Damn, kid, you’re really caping hard for that human, aren’t you?”

“That’s right! He’s going to wipe the floor with that tin-can wearing mare, you see if he doesn’t!”

Melara, the timid young Unicorn mare, clutched at Jean’s shoulder. “Oh, do be careful, Jean. You know the Commander doesn’t like gambling.”

Plumb Bob snorted. “You oughta listen to your little girlfriend, kid. I’m gonna enjoy taking your bits. Easiest money I ever made today.”

“She’s not my girlfriend!” Jean insisted, shrilly. “She is one of my fellow soldiers of our Company and a loyal sister-in arms!”

The little Unicorn colt snapped sharply to attention, bringing his hooves together, his left arm held stiffly behind the small of his back, his right arm bent in a 90-degree angle above his chest, his hand balled into a tight fist.

Melara blinked, and then also assumed the company’s attentive stance. Remy, the large Earth pony mare, ruffled Jean’s mane with a gloved hand amusedly. Then she stood at attention as well, slamming her fist against her chest.

The little Unicorn colt glared fiercely at the Auxiliari Archecti builder. “We won’t back down!”

It was the Auxiliari Architecti’s turn to ruffle Jean’s mane. “This one will make a fierce mercenary captain someday, ladies. You keep your eye on him,” he said, good-naturedly.

---

A crowd had gathered around Leo and the Knight-Captain mare, Gloria Victrix, to watch them spar – Auxiliari Architecti builders, Triarii Knights from Sir Michael’s detachment, and mercenary soldiers from Leo’s company.

The Professor watched the ponies milling about in her courtyard from the balcony of her house, frowning in disapproval, gripping the railing of her balcony so hard the bones of her knuckles stood out under her golden skin. “This isn’t a game, Michael. I want you to go out and stop them. I don’t need this kind of stress before I go to the Princess’s Council. I’ve had quite enough to deal with as it is.”

Sir Michael was comfortably sprawled out in a chair, hooves up on a cushy ottoman, reading the Canterlot Financial Times, a cup of tea cooling on the small table at his elbow. He was barely paying attention to the courtyard. “Don’t worry about it, Deborah,” he assured her, soothingly. “They’re both experienced fighters, they won’t hurt each other. Besides, I’d like for you to see that you’ve gotten your money’s worth with this mercenary company. A little melee will take the edge off, as well.”

The Professor wrung her hands. “All this fighting and violence…can’t we have at least a little rest before the real push begins? I’m sick of it! I want my life back, Michael. I never wanted to fight a war! I didn’t think this was ever going to happen to me! I never foresaw this! Why did it end up like this? All I wanted was to save poor little Junebug. Now my house is destroyed, I’m at the frontlines of a battle against an evil Vampire Bat and her ilk, and Princess Celestia’s charged me with the protection of her city!”

“What we want and what actually happens are, like as not, two different things, Deborah,” Sir Michael said, rustling his papers. “We have no choice but to press on now. We must fulfill our duty.”

The Professor made her way to a chair, collapsed into it, and watched the courtyard, wearing a look of gloom. “I don’t know how you do it, Michael. If I had to do this for a job, my nerves would be frazzled to bits.”

“Hark who’s talking,” Sir Michael teased her gently. “You can settle down an entire classroom full of giggly teenaged mares. At least my soldiers are usually disciplined and obedient before they report to me for their orders.”

He set down his newspaper, and caught the Professor’s slender, ladylike hands in his own larger ones, warm and firm to the touch, his blue, gold-flecked eyes meeting the Professor’s large, liquid, red eyes. “Why are you so afraid all of a sudden? It’s not like you to be this nervous. It’s hard to see you suffering like this. What troubles you so badly?”

“I don’t know – that’s half the problem, Michael. I can’t decide,” the Professor admitted. “I do know that one thing has been bothering me since the start of all this. I looked into Claret’s face when she attacked my university, Michael. She sneered at me and mocked me. She was confident I would lose. And Princess Celestia won’t take my warning seriously…I’m afraid, Michael. I don’t know if I can succeed. I don’t want to die. I don’t want any of my friends to die, either. I don’t know if I can do this. Maybe Claret was right…what chance have we mortals got against overwhelming evil like her?”

“Deborah, it’s Claret’s intention to destroy your composure by mocking you. If she breaks your will to fight, she has already won. She wants you to flee the city and turn your back towards her. Once you’ve fled, she’ll take the city and everything within its walls,” Sir Michael insisted. “She is not the first enemy commander to try to cow her foes into surrendering with mere words; that’s her strategy. She wants you and the other ponies to deliver yourselves into her hands as the conquered. She has planted seeds of doubt in your heart with the intention to undermine your confidence. She wants you to hesitate and second-guess yourself.”

“I was hoping Princess Celestia would step in and change all this: take this bitter cup from me and assume the mantle of command but I decided there would be no way she could do it. She won’t risk it. I’ll never cry, though, Michael. You’re right. I must stand firm.”

“Besides,” Sir Michael put in, “you have a chance to present your case to her councilors today. If you can win some of the Elector Princes and Princesses over, there is a chance, however slight, that they will appeal to Princess Celestia to bring her city to war footing, summon the legions from their respective provinces, set up the blockade, then seek out and destroy this Vampire Bat countess, along with her pretensions to the throne of Equestria.”

“You’re right!” The Professor brightened. “Princess Twilight Sparkle of Ponyville will declare for me, she is one of the first to respond to any potential threats.”

“Good. Are there any other Electors who will support us?” Sir Michael let go of her hands, allowing her to draw away from him.

The Professor laced her fingers together and sat back in her chair, thinking deeply, furrowing her silvery-gray brows. “Princess Rainbow Dash of Cloudsdale, as well…Princess Megan O’Marea should rally to our cause as well. I’m unsure about Prince Kastor, one never knows where they stand with him. I won’t bother trying to convince Princess Hanoveria, she never budges no matter what.”

“In that case, you should have nothing to be worried about. While this is certainly no time for complacency, there is no cause for undue alarm, either,” Sir Michael said, picking up his newspaper, spreading it out, and settling back in his chair in turn.

There was a timid rap on the door.

“Enter,” Sir Michael boomed grandly, setting down his paper.

Cheese Sandwich, their loyal butler, came shimmering in through the door, in the usual unearthly, ethereal manner he had; he barely seemed to walk – one thought he floated, rather, instead. “Master Spike of the Mercenary Company to see you, Madame. Sir,” he announced, bowing very low to the Professor, then to Sir Michael. His expression was that of faint dismay, as though he could barely believe the ragged dragon mercenary had the gall to insinuate himself within the Professor’s immaculate household.

“Show him in,” the Professor said, sitting upright in her chair, her spectacles glinting. Sir Michael smiled to himself at Professor Deborah’s suddenly businesslike attitude. She can conceal her worry well, he thought. Truly, she is beautiful even in dire adversity.

Spike came wandering through the door, cringing somewhat at Cheese Sandwich’s obsequious air; it was obvious that he knew he was out of place in their spotless, clean, cheerful little household. The purple, green-crested dragon knelt before the Professor and Sir Michael obediently. “Sir. My lady,” he said, haltingly.

“You may rise, Spike,” the Professor said, accommodatingly. “You look hungry. Please, eat.” She gestured grandly at the tea tray Cheese Sandwich had laid out upon the table for her and Sir Michael: a steaming, huge pot of delicious lemon ginger tea, a large cake, hot, fresh-baked bread with a stick of the finest salted butter, cheese crumpets, and kippered herring, with a few slices of bacon.

“Can…can I really?” Spike said, barely believing it.

“Oh, stop being silly, you…you…ridiculous purple dragon!” the Professor said, stamping an elegant hoof and snorting. “Stuff yourself. It’s not like I’m at a loss for food. My problems are somewhat more complex than that, at the moment. At any rate, you are our honored guest – indeed, our lives may very well rest upon your capable shoulders, Captain Spike,” she declared.

Spike bobbed his head, rising to his paws. “Yes, my lady!”

“Now, why did you come?”

Spike hurried over to the tea tray and began scarfing down hot, fragrant slices of bread as quickly as he could manage, slathering cold butter upon each slice eagerly; the butter melted instantly, soaking the bread in delicious, salty yellow liquid. “Mmmmph…beg your pardon, my lady.”

“None of this ‘my lady’ stuff, I’m a Professor and that’s what you’ll call me,” the Professor said, placing her hands on her hips. Sir Michael fought back a chuckle and rustled his newspaper, though he was not really reading it; he was watching the Professor and Spike interacting over the top of it, and merely pretending to read.

“Yes, Professor. Sorry, Professor,” Spike said, apologetically, between bites of hot, crispy bacon. “I heard you were heading for Princess Celestia’s castle today. Professor, I ask you let us accompany you as a vanguard. We’ll form a protective body around your vehicle, and run up our banners. We’ll shield you from any of the attacking enemies who might try to stop you from attending Princess Celestia’s council.”

“A splendid idea, Captain Spike,” Sir Michael said, approvingly. “Have a cigar, my boy!” He broke out his pocket case of cigars, passing one to Spike. “Well, what do you think, Deborah? Shall we accept their offer? I think I may even command my Pegasus Triarii to fall in behind them. The display of our military power may very well convince Princess Celestia and her Electors to take our plea seriously.”

“Or they may think us paranoid idiots,” the Professor muttered. “I hardly think charging up to her castle gates with an armed retinue is any way to win her over.”

“Be a sport, Deborah,” Sir Michael begged. “It just might work!”

“I don’t like making a fuss!” the Professor insisted.

“Just this once, Professor? I swear we won’t do it again,” Spike said, half-wincing a little as he said so, as though aware that he might have spoken out of turn.

Professor Deborah crossed her arms under her chest and frowned mightily, glaring through her spectacles at Sir Michael, then at Spike. “Really! You two are worse than little colts with a new Hearth’s Warming eve toy! Fine, I’ll agree to your…your ridiculous show. I was just telling Sir Michael that you lot aren’t taking this seriously! You all think this is a jolly Nightmare Night game, don’t you? Hunt the scary vampire bat and everything will be fine, is that what you think?”
“With all due respect, Professor, we won’t rest until we take her down!” Spike said, making a fist with his scaly paw. “We heard all about poor little Junebug. Our illustrious Commander has sworn himself to pull one of their heads off with his bare hands for this wrong they’ve done you.”

The Professor blushed furiously, her shaggy grey tail lashing her flanks. “I hardly think it’s necessary, but if he wants to…”

“He will! He’s burning with determination!” Spike said. “Why, he’s so fired up, he just challenged Sir Michael’s subordinate to a duel!”

“And a good thing, too,” Sir Michael said, lighting a cigar. “Gloria needs to learn a lesson in humility. I would like proper cohesion in the ranks when we enter the field, too; real camaraderie amongst the troops, do you follow?”

He began puffing away on his cigar, and steepled his fingers together, the masculine, broad-shouldered Pegasus stallion watching Spike closely, his gold-flecked blue eyes narrowed.

“It is best to let Gloria experience a little humiliation now. If she does so, she will charge into the fray with great vim and vigour when the press comes, Captain Spike. She will be eager to ingratiate herself towards the commander of the mercenary company. It will also do her good to be overmastered by a human, which may clear up any…er…prior misconceptions she may still have allowed to linger upon the horizon of her mind. Let her get a little bloodied and injured; it will inflame her passion.”

A chill rose up the Professor’s back; she studied Sir Michael’s face, and saw only a cold, calculating, sterile look upon his face. “I take it back,” she said, in a small voice. “You have been readying yourself for this, Michael. And to think I’ve put you all to so much trouble…”

“Deborah, we Anointed Knights of Princess Celestia are sworn to guard the most beautiful and serene Monarchy of Equestria against all threats, foreign and domestic, or die in the attempt,” Sir Michael boomed, in his resonant baritone voice. “You did nothing untoward that you should feel guilt or sadness about. In fact, you have done us all a great credit; you espied the enemy and rose the alarm before anything truly untoward could have happened. You should have been a Knight,” he joked lightly, his eyes sparkling with admiration for the beautiful, dashing, courageous Professor.

The Professor blushed, and glanced downward, running her hands along her skirts in faint embarrassment. “Oh, I could never! But…it seems like you’ve gotten your wish anyway, Michael. Princess Celestia has seen to that.”

“The Princess works in mysterious ways, indeed,” Sir Michael said, looking thoughtful. “Though, I fear we Knights have failed in our duty.”

“How so?” The Professor looked confused, her ears pinning back against her long equine skull.

Sir Michael frowned, blowing thick blue clouds, his steely grey brows furrowed deeply in thought. “From what I understand, Deborah, Junebug has been lost to the enemy. At its heart, our work is a rescue mission; find and retrieve Junebug, yes?”

“That’s right.” The Professor nodded. “But…we don’t even know if she’s alive or dead,” she said, in a small voice.
Sir Michael continued. “This parfitly evil Vampire Bat Countess, Claret, has snatched and absconded with more than one Equestrian citizen, if what our military intelligence says is true. I intend to penetrate this matter further, before we launch our attack. Commander Leo claims to have a spymaster of great repute in his company; I suggest we use her to gather intelligence on the exact nature of the situation. I want to find where this Countess is hiding, Deborah. Then you must launch the attack!”

“Me?” The Professor squeaked.

“You! You’re the general in the field that Princess Celestia has chosen.”

“I would rather not fight at all,” the Professor said.

“In that regard, you are a fine strategist, Deborah,” Sir Michael said, leaning forward in his chair. “I am glad Princess Celestia chose you to see to the defences of the city, and not one of the wild young colts or fillies currently calling themselves Princes and Princess-Electors. Had she chosen one of them, the city would have been aflame already…and had she chosen Princess Hanoveria, my Pegasus Triarii would have still been in their garrisons at the Princess Celestia’s castle. You have shown great restraint thus far – yet, you have made the necessary preparations to secure our fair city against the enemy. I’m very proud of you, Deborah.”

---

In the courtyard, a sizeable crowd of ponies – Mercenaries, Triarii Knights, Auxiliari Architecti, and even a few maids from the Professor’s household – had gathered around Leo, the youthful human male Mercenary Commander, and Gloria Victrix, the blonde-maned, grey-coated, scarred, fierce-looking Pegasus Mare Knight-Captain of Sir Michael’s detachment of Pegasus Triarii, so that they might watch the human face off against the towering giant mare in heavy armor.

Jean Silverhoof, Melara Nightfall, and Remy Braun, the three fledgling Mercenary recruits, had managed to push their way to the front, with the help of the gregarious, pot-bellied Plumb Bob, the middle-aged Earth pony stallion belonging to the Auxiliari Architecti. Bob had actually put Jean on his shoulders, the better for the tiny Unicorn stallion to see what was going to happen.

“It’s not too late to back out, kid,” Bob said, glancing up at the defiant Jean seated atop his shoulders.

“No way! You wait. You just watch,’ Jean Silverhoof declared. “The Commander’s got this in the bag. He’s really good with big enemies, you’ll see.”

“Kid’s got a point, you know,” Remy, the strapping, muscular Earth Pony mare declared. “All that armor’s going to slow Gloria down. This isn’t a spear charge, this is close quarters combat, and I’ll grant that Gloria’s a terror when she’s in formation with her Triarii, but alone, and with a light, fast foe? I’m sorry, but she’s going to get torn to shreds, Bob. There’s nothing for it.”

“You kids think Triarii are that weak? Think again, you three. She’ll make your precious Commander bleed, see if she doesn’t,” Plumb Bob scoffed, hands on his hips.

---

Gloria and Leo faced each other, the crowd of ponies surrounding them hooting, yelling, shouting, bellowing, applauding, and kicking up an ear-shattering racket. The roar of them was like to split the air.

Gloria, the gigantic Pegasus mare, looked like a colossus of gleaming steel armor tinted a beautiful blue and gold; thick metal plate encased her from head to hoof, a bright white cloak spilling down her shoulders almost to the ground, a pot-like great helm on her head.

Her shield, a gargantuan wooden monstrosity, stiffened with bands of steel, depicted scenes of the history of Equestria upon it, done in bright colors, the figures and artwork stylized, like the stained-glass windows of a church, or of the Bayeux Tapestry. It showed a Pegasus, a Unicorn, and an Earth Pony joining their hands together; below that was Princess Celestia and Princess Luna, and below that, the Six Heroines of Equestria – Twilight, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy, Rarity, Applejack, and Pinkie Pie, each holding their respective Elements in their right hands.

In her other hand was a spear that could easily have been a telephone pole in the human world. The Pegasus mare’s body itself spoke of tremendous, bone-shattering power; her torso was wide and thick, her shoulders broad, her arms wide and heavy, her thighs like columns of flesh, bone, muscle, and sinew, her hooves like anvils.

The giant Pegasus mare swung her spear; Leo could actually hear the whoosh of air from the enormous wooden shaft as it spun through the air. It seemed as though the gleaming spearhead was about two feet long, from where he could see it.

Gloria pounded the butt of her spear upon the ground. “Mercenaries have no bloody honor!” she bellowed. She had a voice like the silver trumpet of Judgment.

The mercenary soldiers around her booed and howled at her, shaking their fists at her, stamping their hooves, tossing their heads angrily, and she grinned triumphantly under her helm. Gloria’s Pegasus Triarii comrades laughed mockingly, leaning on their huge shields, the tips driven into the dirt of the courtyard..

Leo could see Knight-Captain Gloria’s bright golden eyes glinting like headlamps behind the ocular slits of her greathelm. He could smell her; the scent of mareflesh, perspiration, steel. She continued to vent her spleen at the human Mercenary commander in loud tones. “You won’t fight me in single combat, you merchant of death! You’re used to sneaking up on the enemy in the dark of the night! I am an Anointed Knight of the Most Honourable Triarii of the Princess Celestia-“

“Shut up already. You’re gonna run out of breath in that tin can you’re wearing.” Leo rubbed the back of his neck, looking utterly bemused, as though the Triarius Knight-Captain had failed to say anything remotely making sense.

Leo was a full three heads shorter that Knight-Captain Gloria, but the hot human male Mercenary Commander seems to radiate just as much menace as the giant Pegasus mare in all her armor; indeed, he seems to blaze like a furnace with pent-up energy and rage.

He is youthful, only in his late teens or early 20’s, with a thin, muscular, athletic body, dark, swarthy, smooth skin, and shaggy black hair adorning his head, like slashes of shiny black obsidian,; the picture of a dashing, studly Human male Mercenary captain in the flesh.

And what a sight he makes before the crowd! His short, rough-cut black hair glints in the sunlight, and, as if to entice the ponies viewing him, he runs a large, strong hand through his crown of luscious black hair slowly, combing the sheeny black locks with his fingers.

He has an overtly masculine, pointed face with a sharp, angular nose, and a powerful fighter’s jaw, giving him an easy, self-assured, overly confident look. His dark, glittering eyes, like chips of grey slate, glint with aggression; he is looking at the armor-clad Pegasus mare and clearly examining her, analyzing the best place to whack the big behemoth and bring her earthwards, his full, sensuous lips coiled in a knowing smirk. His head rests upon a broad, supported by the thickly muscled pyramid of his shoulders, the arches of his collarbones.

Unlike the Pegasus Knight, he’s wearing a simple black leather jacket, well-worn, scuffed, rubbed smooth by years and years of use. It is stretched tightly around his muscular upper body, worn open to allow visibility of his rigid, rock-hard, squared pectoral muscles jutting out under his smooth, dark skin, and the shallow curves of his defined, sharply sculpted abdominal muscles; there is almost no bodyfat percentage to be seen there, and his dark skin is drawn tautly over the bunched, hard, stony muscle thrusting out under his flesh. He has a large red gem half-sunk in the dead center of where his breastbone would be located. His jacket’s left sleeve is stretched skin-tight around the prominent, bulging bicep and forearm muscles of his left arm, but his right arm is clad in heavy red-colored armor.

The red armor, shot through with lines of yellow and black, that encases his right arm seems to be wrought of many small parts, a complex array of machinery; the minute pistons, camshafts, and pushrods give it a faint resemblance to an internal combustion engine, but there is also a device bearing some similarity to a jet turbine engine in the palm of his red gauntlet, glowing with a faint red light, whirring and humming softly. There is a much larger turbine the side of a saucer on the shoulder-plate of the gauntlet – it hadn’t been spinning earlier on, but now that Leo is facing the Knight-Captain it has begun spinning up, first with a low hum, raising a warm, stiff breeze.

Leo’s hard, defined torso has a distinct V-shape, his shoulders wide, his waist toned, trim, with well-worn blue jeans riding teasingly low on his hips, the thick muscles of his quads and calves bunching under the tautly drawn, faded fabric of his jeans. He is wearing tough black leather boots, covered with the scuffs and marks of frontline combat.

Leo falls into a fighting stance, spreading those thick, muscular thighs, placing one foot before the other, raising his arms before his head, bending his back a little like an Olympian preparing to shoot out from the starting blocks of the racetrack, presenting just the side of his body to Knight-Captain Gloria. “I’ve never had tinned horsemeat in white wine sauce before, but I’ll gladly have a slice now for breakfast.”

Long red fins extended from the shoulder plating of his gauntleted right arm with the scream of metal rubbing against metal. By now, the turbines on the shoulder plating and the gauntlet have spun up to half of their maximum speed, emitting tangible gusts of wind, kicking up clouds of dust and thrown-up earth from the construction underway.

Melara, the young Unicorn mare mercenary soldier, let out a little cry of surprise and covered her head with her arm. Murmurs of astonishment rose from the Triarii Knights watching the two; the artifice upon Leo’s shoulder and right arm were entirely unfamiliar to them, but most of the seasoned, experienced mercenary soldiers were familiar with Leo’s ability.

---

“I don’t get it. What is that? What’s he going to do?” Plumb Bob, the Auxiliari Architecti laborer carrying Jean, the little Unicorn colt, peered curiously at Leo’s right arm from his place in the crowd gathered around the Knight-Captain and the Mercenary Commander.

“Kicking Gloria’s flank, that’s what,” Remy, the Earth pony mare mercenary said, crossing her arms over her chest. “He’s just lying in wait. He’s preparing to unleash his power on her. Watch.”

---

Knight-Captain Gloria of Sir Michael’s Pegasus Triarii snarled with rage. “You…you….”

She launched herself at Leo with a wordless bellow of fury, sounding like an angry bull, her hooves cannoning against the ground; he swore he could practically feel the ground shaking under her hoof-beats. The huge Pegasus mare had couched her spear and lifted her shield before herself, her armor shining in the sunlight, her cloak streaming out behind her like great white wings, clouds of dust rising from her pounding hooves; her own wings are clenched tightly against her body like closed fists, trembling with the effort, the rigid muscles along her wingspan quivering.

To Leo, it was like being caught before the advance of a main battle tank at full speed. He barely had enough time to activate the boosters of his red armor. Its pistons churned and shook, the turbines spooling up to full power with a mighty blast of hot wind, the fins along his shoulder and upper arm spinning like a propeller; in an instant he shot several feet to the side, sliding to a stop in a crouch, his boots skidding across the ground.

Gloria charged past him like an enraged bull, nearly tumbling headlong. Before the dizzy, disoriented Knight-Captain Pegasus mare could regain her balance and turn to face him, Leo shot forward like a bullet from a gun in a great jet of hot propeller-wash, battering Gloria’s body like a solid wall of air slamming into her at high speed.

Gloria barely had time to raise her shield before Leo began raining blows upon it; the jets and pistons of his gauntleted right hand allowed him to make blurringly fast punches, his right arm like a stream of liquid fire as he slammed and struck at her at speeds too fast for any mortal eye to follow, the turbines and machinery screaming and roaring like that of a fighter jet with its afterburners in full cry.

Gloria screamed in pain as Leo’s blows rained down on her shield. Imagine being shotgunned repeatedly with large buckshot loads, again and again and again – that is what it felt like to her. Each impact made her huge ornate shield ring hollowly. Half-blind with pain, she swung her spear; Leo saw it a moment too late and the wooden shaft struck him full in the leg, sweeping him aside. He roared with agony, sliding a good many feet away from Gloria upon his back, but he was on his feet again in an instant, gritting his teeth irritably as Gloria turned to face him, favoring her injured shield arm.

“What is that toy, child? Put it down and face me with a sword and shield!” Knight-Captain Gloria screamed at him.

“No deal. I’m kind of attached to it,” Leo said, brushing dirt from his jacket, and lifting his arms before his body.

And he shot towards Gloria. Gloria raised her shield, bringing her mighty lance to bear and found –

Nothing. She looked up, and found Leo had flown skyward. “Come back, you coward! I haven’t spread my wings yet, so you can’t fly!”

“I haven’t,” Leo answered. It was true; he was descending towards Gloria at a tremendous rate, his body rolling, spinning, throwing his full weight into a savage punch.

He struck her right shoulder with a resounding thud and a ring of metal striking metal, sending her reeling backward, swaying on her hooves. There was an awful crack, and the crowd gasped as Gloria screamed, her arm sliding bonelessly from its socket. She dropped her shield, and it hit the ground with a hollow ‘boom’, falling face-first, the naked, unpainted underside exposed. The handles had actually bent somewhat under Leo’s earlier blows.

Leo landed lightly upon the ground some feet away from her, flexing his armored fingers, the machinery along his arm humming and whirring softly, emitting little puffs of warm wind, the turbine upon his palm slowing.

Knight-Captain Gloria’s shoulders heaved as she sucked in air, panting for breath. “Hah…hah….”

She grasped her disjointed arm with her other hand, and rammed it back into its socket with a wet squelch and a crack of muscle and bone grinding against bone. She flexed her arm as though nothing had happened, picked up her shield, her spear, and began to walk towards Leo.

“I see I’ve underestimated you, human boy,” the Knight-Captain declared, her voice grim. “I won’t do that again.”

“Ech….” Leo grimaced, rubbing his mouth with his left hand. “Didn’t think you were going to pop your arm back in.”

“Child, I’m a twenty-three year veteran of Equestria’s army in the field. I did not survive to become a Triarius by yielding just because my arm was put out of socket, and we are all familiar with basic medicine, to a certain extent,” Knight-Captain Gloria declared, a bit of her old boastfulness trailing back into her voice.

A hush fell over the crowd. Knight-Captain Gloria was advancing slowly on Leo now, shield raised, spear couched. She began striking at him with the butt of her spear, forcing him to block the blows with his armored right arm.

He grunted under each blow – it was like someone swinging a sledgehammer at him over and over, and the machinery of his gauntlet could only absorb so much of the blows; a small amount of the force was still transferred to his body. He began to perspire freely, beads of clear sweat rolling down his brows, the hard bunches of muscle under the flesh of his neck and shoulders, the hard bulges of his pectoral muscles, the ridges of his abdominals, his skin glistening wetly in the sunlight.

Suddenly he lashed out with his armored right hand, grabbing Gloria’s spear-shaft out of the air, kicking off from the ground with a powerful jet of air from the turbines in his armor, the fin-blade propellers whirling; he spun in a somersault, and struck Gloria’s helmeted muzzle with both boots, sending her stumbling backward, spitting thick streams of blood from the gashes in her lips.

Gloria stumbled a few steps, then fell her full length on the ground with a solid, earth-shaking ‘thump’, her armor clattering against itself, her spear and shield tumbling merrily from her numb hands. The Pegasus Triarii shouted in dismay and ran to the side of their knocked-out captain, as the mercenary soldiers streamed forward to receive their victorious commander, hoisting him skyward amidst the riotous cheering, stamping, and applause.

---

“Wasn’t that exciting?” Sir Michael said, from the balcony.

The Professor had to admit it was so.

“Good old Leo! He’ll help you get Junebug back, you’ll see,” Spike said triumphantly.

“Right you are, m’lad,” Sir Michael said, approvingly, the Pegasus stallion ruffling Spike’s green fins in a familiar manner. “We’d better get going, Deborah. I’m sure Princess Celestia’s expecting you, and we’ve spent enough time resting on our laurels. Spike, why don’t you go send word to your commander, there’s a good chap, and make ready your troops for departure. I shall have one of my surgeons look over Gloria and tidy her up; make her look presentable.”

“Oh, but her poor face…she’s bleeding,” the Professor said, fretfully, rubbing her hands together.

Sir Michael dismissed this with a shake of his head. “’Tis but a scratch. Gloria will tire us all out telling us about how she got this newest scar on her muzzle from perilous single combat with a human soon enough, you’ll see. I’ll be surprised if they aren’t fast friends now.”

Comments

[Alsvid]

7646806

So I caught rather a bad cold and had to take a few days off, but I'm better now.

I used the time to watch some S-cry-Ed and try to figure out how Leo should move around when he fights, etc. I also became more fully acquainted with the tiny moving parts of the gauntlet and incorporated these effects.

It also makes noises, which I thought was super cool and adopted for Leo's gauntlet. I also included things like the hot wind that blows from its fans and blades and the huge billowing clouds of smoke and dust.

I may have spent a little too much time on this subplot, but we shall return to your regularly scheduled Sexy Horror Vampire Bats forthwith.

[Alsvid]

7658009

I am much better now, yes, thank you! I made sure to get lots of sleep, three square meals, and lots of cold medication. All my symptoms cleared up except for a tiny postnasal drip. it was bad whilst I had it, though - my entire throat and upper sinuses were ablaze with pain. I made some attempts on this chapter during that time, but decided to lay off and let the worst of my illness pass, while watching S-cry-ed to pick up some ideas.

I was tempted to make the fight longer once I'd recovered, but I didn't want to make it seem like Gloria and Leo bitterly hate each other. Honestly, Gloria is merely doing what actual Medieval knights enjoyed doing regularly - a melee. It isn't personal, and it won't much harm her relation to Leo. It's really about the equivalent of a quick festival melee that the nobles would enjoy watching while they ate food; hence, why the Professor, Sir Michael, and Spike are chowing down on food while Gloria and Leo are locked in combat.

Knights were regularly injured or killed during these bouts, so Leo disjointing her arm, then bloodying her up is in line with this. I'm glad you enjoyed it. it was a lot of fun to conceive. We all wanted to see Leo take on a giant metal monster of a female knight, yeah?

Something like this; right down to the way the knight in question towers over the regular people -

1.bp.blogspot.com/-ikc86o65g6A/UjBQMYypHMI/AAAAAAAACSE/so5bLdkVrMY/s1600/Ser+Gregor+Clegane_FULL.jpg

But if you take off her armor, she looks like this - again, right down to being really huge.

oyster.ignimgs.com/mediawiki/apis.ign.com/dragons-crown/4/4d/Dragons-crown-amazon-468.jpg

[Alsvid]

7660195

Fire away. You can PM it to me, since you probably don't want our intrepid readers to be in on the surprise.

Funny you should say this, actually, because I was going to give his attack names but then it occurred to me they might have names already.