The morning sun stretched across the makeshift campsite, illuminating the weary faces of the Grimknights. After yesterday's grueling training, shocking revelations, and the loss of Cricket's home, they all agreed to take a much-needed break. Sleep had been uneasy, with everyone forced to rest uncomfortably under the open sky. Now, as the first rays of daylight trickled through the branches, each member found themselves lost in their own thoughts and preparations.
Henry sat on a fallen log, flipping through old, crumpled papers—notes he had collected over time regarding the Stallion. His brow furrowed in concentration as he read over names, hideout locations, and tactics they had used in past skirmishes. "These bastards have been terrorizing the weak for too long," he muttered, tightening his grip on the parchment. "If we don't put a stop to them now, they'll only grow stronger."
Bjorn, silent as ever, stood up and started gathering sturdy branches. Though he didn't speak, the group knew what he was doing—constructing a temporary shelter for Cricket. His actions spoke louder than words, his hands swiftly tying together logs and wooden scraps salvaged from the remnants of Cricket's home.
Elric, meanwhile, leaned against a rock, arms crossed as he spoke with Espada. "Tomorrow's fight isn't just about us. If we win, we cripple their morale. If we lose, we won't walk away in one piece." He glanced at her scimitar. "You need that at its sharpest."
Espada gave a confident smirk, running a hand over the curved blade. "Oh, don't worry. I'll carve them up nice and clean."
A little ways off, Kaiser sat beside Mariposa, watching as she absentmindedly traced symbols in the dirt with a stick. "So," he began, twirling a shadow dagger between his fingers, "you can control blood. That's a hell of a thing to find out."
Mariposa looked at him, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension in her expression. "It's the Blood of Joseph," she admitted. "I don't know the full extent of what I can do yet, but I can manipulate my own blood, maybe even solidify it into weapons." then smiled.
Kaiser nodded. "Sounds powerful. But can you control others' blood?"
Mariposa hesitated. "I… don't know. I never tried. I don't want to think about it that way."
Kaiser gave a low chuckle. "Just don't hesitate when it counts. That's all that matters."
Nearby, Cricket plucked the strings of his lute, humming softly as he rehearsed an old ballad. The melody carried across the camp, soothing the tension that hung in the air. As the day passed, the group barely noticed how quickly time slipped by.
When night fell, they all gathered around a freshly lit bonfire. Bjorn sat on a large rock, absentmindedly tossing his axe into the air and catching it with one hand. Espada watched in amusement, shaking her head. "One day you're going to drop that on your foot."
Bjorn smirked but said nothing.
Cricket, sensing the need for morale, strummed his lute and sang:
"Through storm and ice, he forged his might,The northern warrior, fierce in fight.Axe in hand, none stood so tall,Bjorn Ironside, breaker of all."
The group chuckled at the fitting tribute, but Henry soon cut through the moment. "Tomorrow's battle won't be easy," he said, his voice steady but firm. "The Stallions think they have already won, that we are nothing but a group of wanderers playing at being warriors. But we know better. We fight not just for ourselves, but for those who suffer at their hands. Every strike we land, every enemy we fell, is one step closer to ending their reign of terror."
Elric nodded in approval. "No backing down now."
Kaiser smirked, still twirling his shadow dagger. "Let's make sure they regret underestimating us."
Mariposa silently fed Nyx a piece of grilled fish, the small liemur curling around her arm affectionately. As the embers of the fire dimmed, one by one, they all lay down to sleep—except Bjorn, who remained awake, keeping watch.
When dawn arrived, the Grimknights stirred early, slipping into their armor and weapons. Henry adjusted his gauntlets, clenching and unclenching his fists. Elric tested the chains of his flail, swinging it once with practiced ease. Espada stretched her limbs, ensuring her scimitar was secured in its holster. Kaiser kept his hood low, hands in his pockets, while Mariposa gently stroked Nyx before lifting her reaper scythe onto her back.
A bandit approached, sneering as he looked over the group. Before he could speak, Elric scoffed. "Just lead us already. I can't wait to see you bastards kissing my mace."
The bandit smirked but said nothing, turning on his heel and marching ahead. The Grimknights followed, the tension thick in the air.
As they walked, Espada muttered, "The moment they give us an opening, I say we gut them all."
Kaiser chuckled. "Patience. We're playing their game for now."
Elric cracked his knuckles. "We win this fight. We stop the Stallion!."
Mariposa exhaled softly. "I just want to see them suffer for what they've done."
They soon arrived at the same grounds where they had first met the Stallion. The bandits lined the area, jeering and throwing insults. A solid ground ahead of them formed an arena, the sides excavated just enough to form a natural pit for the audience. Bandits were already exchanging bets.
Espada clenched her fists. "They're mocking us."
Bjorn placed a firm hand on her shoulder, a silent reassurance that their time would come.
A bandit announcer climbed atop a wooden platform. "A good day to all you bastards here, in this lovely arena of the great Stallion!" The crowd roared in response. "Today's battle will be between the pathetic Grimknights—" more laughter erupted "—and our strongest warriors!"
Stallion himself stepped forward, grinning. "If, by some miracle, the Grimknights win, we will cease our raiding of the weak." His smirk widened. "If." The bandits howled in amusement.
The announcer continued. "The first match! Bjorn Ironside versus Dusty!"
Cheers erupted as the announcer went on. "Bjorn, the tenacious warrior of the north, wielder of twin axes! Against Dusty, master of the great axe! A battle of axes begins now!"
Bjorn stepped forward, rolling his shoulders. He locked eyes with his opponent, gripping his weapons. Dusty smirked, resting his great axe over one shoulder. The arena grew silent, the air charged with anticipation.
The fight was about to begin.