Глава 10

Wait, it's you again...

Doctor, am I a little late here?

Finding a route through Londinium's city walls, well... that's tough, even for me.

Lucky I found a few outstanding helpers.

Appreciated. Thank you, Misery.

Amiya, we're switching battlefields.;Closure, position drones.;Feist, zipline.

And now, we jump.

Minutes before...

Doctor, I've locked onto Manfred.

Uh, barely anybody's with him...

He's not scared of us approaching him.

You think he's overpowered? He looks like he eats fights for breakfast. Maybe Theresis taught him a bunch of moves.

Can we seriously pound him into stopping the artillery like a good boy with just five minutes?

No, scratch that, no I in this we. At this point, you can't count me and Feist as part of your combat force. Throwing Logistics guys into this fray'd be a hell of a way to waste lives.

Amiya, you're all we've got...

Manfred is a powerful enemy.

But we've faced powerful enemies to come all this way... and we'll surely face more still.

Amiya, you keep all of Manfred's attention.;Closure, Feist, ready our retreat from the tower.;The one we're waiting for is almost here.

Reprising old tricks? Did you really think I'd let you all escape a second time?

A thread of energy comes rushing in, as if it's locked onto some position in the air.

You almost feel the point of that sword slice at the tip of your feet.

Until a shield comes down in front of you all.

Drop any thoughts of pursuing them, Sarkaz.

Your fight is right here.

White Wolf. I didn't imagine you would come face me again.

So this passage is bidirectional, what a surprise. You sent them away, and brought yourself in at the same time?

It wasn't me... It was us.

Behind Horn, a soldier stands up.

And then a second, and then a third.

And now over a dozen Victorian soldiers block the Sarkaz general's way.

All of them, camouflages dropped.

They wear a dizzying array of different uniforms, the majority scarred in the roiling flames of war, some covered in mud and cobweb, some splattered by the blood of their own comrades.

Their weapons are just as motley, some still holding regulation swords, some instead toting self-fashioned crossbows.

But their faces all bear an identical vigor.

This time, they stand firm or fall once and for all. They will never retreat.

A gaggle of leftover forces thinks they can beat me?

You aren't fit to fight me, even with a weapon.

Have you forgotten you owe your last escape from my grasp entirely to that Rhodes Island Sarkaz meddler?

You can stop checking all around, Sarkaz.

When you don't respect your opponent on the battlefield, you're the first to fall.

Your blabbering may well be more stubborn than your shield.

Hrrgh––

Watch the enemy's attack angle! Assemble behind me!

I wasn't planning to eliminate you, but I didn't know you would be so eager to hold your own funeral.

Here I thought you'd have some level of tactical prowess, White Wolf.

You bring a platoon of wounded men to resist me, and have your soldiers give up their lives one after another? Is this your so-called professional spirit?

Don't... forget where you're stood right now.

This is the city wall of Londinium.

Don't go assuming you've already conquered her, Sarkaz.

—See for yourself.

We're still right here.

12-end

You're already down to your last few men.

On any past battlefield, Victoria would've needed at least two or more Steam Knights in order to hold me off.

But look at yourselves now—

You're just a bunch of plain soldiers.

—Hold formation!

Those who still have energy in your shields! Stand together with me!

Snipers, sustain fire, pin him!

Yes, Captain!

I've said it before—no matter how strong he is, he's still just a flesh-and-blood Sarkaz Infected. His Arts have a limit!

You want to wait until I cast my body dry?

You'll never live to see me exhaust my strength.

Ugh!

Blake!

Horn, take my sword—

—Got it.

When they fall, they turn their gazes to you, still with hope.

I never thought I'd see such brilliance in Londinium again.

But how much longer can this fragile light persist?

Horn!

...Robben?

*pant*... *pant*... No cause for alarm... falling here... just returning... returning... back to Londinium's land.

Sarkaz!!!

You fired all of your remaining ammunition at once?

Well done. You've stopped me in my tracks for the first time.

But after this, you're out of tricks.

After you watch your comrades die one by one, will you lose the will to fight too, White Wolf?

Rita.

I can understand how disappointed you are in your father.

Yes, a soldier's blood flows through my body.

But just as Victoria invented steam trains, yet only decades later abandoned steam—

Modern Victoria has taken off the crown meant for people to lift their gazes at, and no longer needs soldiers like your great-grandmother or me to fight for her.

There'll come a day the White Wolf, together with the Lion Padishah he accompanied, will be no more than indistinct images left in the history books.

Your father's taken note of that. He's ground down his own sharp claws so the family isn't torn apart by the tides of the ages.

But you're different.

You grow in a changing Victoria.

Rita Skamandros, you won't need to fight a landtrotter's campaign in the name of the Aslan King.

But Victoria is still your home.

Sarkaz... So long as you occupy our cities, I will always have a reason to fight.

My desire to defeat you is shared with every Victorian.

Your shield is of little use now.

I still have a sword.

Your sword... heh, common as could be.

You want to battle me with a sword like this?

*huff*... Don't underestimate it, or me.

You're so fond of remembering... the Steam Knights...

When you take off the armor that Victoria forged them...

They turn out just to be—

Victorians!