Sexy Steampunk Babes: Chapter Twenty Eight (Patreon)

The dull roar of the crowd was only slightly muted by the small alcove they’d been tucked into prior to the start of the match. Rather than starting at disparate ‘duty’ stations as they would be in a regular match, the team was instead all grouped together.

Assumedly to replicate the idea of us landing nearby a downed airship, he thought.

Glancing back, he watched as Verity finished putting on the last of her kit as Marline helped with some of the straps.

“All good?” he asked.

The orc nodded. “Everything’s as it should be, except for the…”

She trailed off as her fingers brushed over the bandolier across her chest, careful not to brush against any of the orange tipped bolts it contained.

William nodded. “I wouldn’t worry about it. They’re not what we practiced with, but the change shouldn’t make any tangible difference on the field.”

Indeed, in some ways the wax rounds were an improvement over his original rubber design.

For one thing, they’d been enchanted. According to the dour looking Palace Guardswoman who’d handed them off to him and the rest of his team, the wax had been toughened so it wouldn’t melt or split when fired - but would do so on impact, leaving a visible mark on the foe.

Which was an improvement over his own design,  which would have required the match’s many observers to call out a hit if it wasn’t self-evident.

Still, he thought. Fifty shots. Overnight.

That wasn’t cheap. Indeed, it equaled the entire spellcasting capacity of a mage for seventeen days.

…Or a night’s work for seventeen mages.

Menial mages to be certain, but mages all the same. Using spells that now wouldn’t be used creating weapons, healing people, growing crops or contributing to the nation’s stockpile of enchanted munitions.

There was a reason he hadn’t thought of enchanted wax himself. He didn’t have the time.

…Nor did he have the time or knowledge on how to make a conventional alternative, even if he knew such a thing existed.

Not with so many other projects that required his attention.

Still, he couldn’t help but be reluctantly impressed by his nation’s monarch. For he could think of no one else that had the kind of pull to have fifty disposable objects enchanted in a single evening.

Not because of said power, but because of the decisiveness required to make that decision and start implementing it mere minutes after hearing of his plan.

She’ll be one to watch out for, going forward, he thought.

Though it was only a moment later he was shaking his head, his attention turning toward the rest of his team. Thoughts of what would come after this match should be kept for after the match.

Lest they all become moot.

Here and now, he needed to focus on here and now. With that in mind, he spared one final glance at the arena ahead, gathering what details he could from what he’d memorized of the layout, before turning back to his team.

“Alright, gather up,” he said, prompting the girls to gather round. “I imagine Tala thinks she’s pulled a fast one on us by throwing us into an unexpected scenario, but I think we can make it work in our favour.”

To that end, he pulled out a dagger and started chanting.

“Mage-Smith: Clay. Steel. Fingers.”

“William, what the fuck!” Olzenya shouted. “We’re about to get into a fight here!”

And he’d just ‘wasted’ one of his three spell slots.

“Quiet please,” he said as he slowly started to move and shape the steel of the dagger with his bare fingers, the rigid material shifting under his ministrations as easily as clay.

He ignored the looming start of the match. He ignored the crowds. He ignored the upset and puzzled expressions of his team. He ignored… how much more upset they’d be when burned another spell charge in a few seconds. And a third not long after.

Though even as he rolled the steel in his hands into a long stick, he couldn’t help one final thought that flitted across his consciousness.

So much for getting to finally use my spell-bolt, he lamented. Still, needs must when the devil drives

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“Activate the crystal network,” Tala said without preamble as her team finished kitting up.

“For this?” Sala – a name clearly chosen to curry favour with House Blackstone – grumbled.

“Yes.” She snapped, in no mood for backtalk. “For this.”

She intended to leave nothing to chance. Not in something as important as this.

Even if it was ridiculous that she was pulling out one of her team’s trump cards against a bunch of first years.

Normally they avoided using the Crystal network if they could. It was far from obvious, but there was always a chance of someone catching onto the idea that her team was more… cohesive than they should be.

And they’d wonder why and how.

…And if they figured that out, they’d be well on the way to replicating the feat.

To that end, Tala’s instructions were only to use it on ‘important’ matches. Ones that would boost the prestige of House Blackstone over their political rivals and make the politically undecided reconsider their allegiances in the brewing civil conflict to come.

Tapping the side of her helmet as discreetly as she could, she felt the tiny spike of ethereal aether that jetted from her fingertip be absorbed through the grill positioned there. A low hum filled her ear as the orb next to it came to life.

Once the size of a watermelon, the orb in her helmet had been painstakingly shaved down until it was barely larger than a fingernail. A move that made it useless for conveying any kind of image visually, but still perfectly sized to transmit sound.

This, she thought. This is why House Blackstone will reign supreme in the end.

Where elves were content to stagnate and wither with the passage of time, humans only continued to change and adapt.

House Blackstone exemplified that.

The Shard Carrier they were constructing near the capital might have been the largest and most obvious example of that philosophy - but it was simply one amongst many.

Focusing her intent on her nearest teammate, she felt the connection form between their two micro-orbs.

“Cherie?” she asked.

“I hear you,” the other girl confirmed – though her voice echoed unpleasantly as Tala heard it both transmit from her orb and in real life.

Though that was a small price to pay for the ability to instantly communicate with any member of her team at will.

“Excellent.”

Though, it wasn’t perfect, given that she needed to manually cut the connection with her teammate before turning to the next. A move that took precious seconds – and wouldn’t be possible at all if the orb she was trying to connect to was already communicating with another.

The other downside was that every member of her team was now down a spell charge.

Fortunately, that’s less of an issue on the floats, she thought as she connected with her other teammates one by one to confirm their orbs were functioning.

The loss of an extra use of stone-skin or a… flashbang was well worth the use of near instant communications.

An advantage that would only grow in the relatively unfamiliar tangle of prefab structures and rubble that was the arena in front of them.

Having turned off her orb, she turned to her team. “Elsie, you’ll swing right at the start. Try to find a good firing angle, but hold back from fully engaging until I orb you to move. Maurine, you’ll do the same on the left flank. Sala and Cherie, we’ll be going up the middle to try and seize that spire.”

She gestured to the large jutting watchtower that had been reshaped slightly to look like an airship’s crow’s nest. One that had ‘fallen’ just slightly wonky. Reasonably well armoured, well positioned and with a commanding view of the battlefield, it was a perfect spot from which to snipe and direct the engagement.

Sure, one could achieve the same feat by simply flying up on a burst of aether, but a marine-knight couldn’t remain in the air indefinitely. And unless they remained moving they’d be an easy target for bolt fire, while simultaneously being poorly positioned to fire back.

Levitating in mid-air not being particularly conducive to forming a stable firing platform.

There was a reason marine-knights tended to perform strafing runs when firing from mid-air – the momentum of the act both acted to help evade return fire while also offsetting the recoil created by the bolt-bows firing gasses.

“Understood,” her team said as one.

And then there was no more time for talk as the ‘start’ bell rang out across the arena.

All five of them moved with practiced efficiency as they shot forth, Maurine and Elsie mere inches from the ground as they expertly used their thrusters to skim at breakneck speeds across the ground.

For her part, Tala waited but a half second after Cherie and Sala rocketed up into the air on a parabolic arc towards the spire. Doing so ensured the two girls would be the first to draw fire, allowing her to more effectively get a read on their enemies positions and relay that information.

Where her team’s two flankers normally acted as saboteurs, and were thus equipped with medium armour, the two she was sending up the centre were normally sentinels – on those occasions where the team wasn’t making use of Shards.

To that end, the pair’s plate armour was more than up to the task of deflecting any kind of incoming bolt fire at these initial ranges. And their close range volley-bows would make short work of any first years hoping to also seize the-

A salvo of cracks rang out from across the arena and Tala made out the dull thud of something striking the armoured plating of at least one of her vanguard.

How peculiar? That was unlike any kind of bolt-bow she’d ever heard-

“Cadet: Sala. Eliminated,” rang out across the arena.

What!?

Her mind roiled, but hundreds of hours of ingrained instinct had her orbing Cherie, even as indignant squawks erupted from Sala’s figure.

“Evade!” she shouted.

Ahead of her, the other girl twitched mid flight. “Tala? They-”

“Evade!” Tala shouted, putting her own words to action, flaring a burst of aether from her elbow and palm so that she darted to the side just as a second round of cracks rang out.

Four of them, she made sure to count, a quick glancing making out five distant figures barely a step beyond their starting position.

Ahead of her, Cherie had clearly heeded her words despite her confusion, dipping low in order to avoid the salvo. To the girl’s right, Sala was still cursing up a confused storm, but nonetheless had her hands high over her head as she slowly floated to the ground.

Zipping past her on the way toward the cover promised by the crow’s nest, Tala noted a distinct orange stain splattered across the girl’s plate armour.

Wax, her mind supplied near instantly, recalling the once confusing words of the match’s instructor.

Then she was past her ‘dead’ teammate, slamming into the rim of the crow’s nest with bruising force right next to her teammate.

One hand gripping the rim of the nest while the other held her rifle, she struggled to maintain her grip as the weight of gravity left her dangling for just a moment as the aether blasting from her feet and elbow that had maintained her forward momentum cut out in favor of flowing into the tank on her back.

In moments, the lighter than air gas filled the tank once more and the strain on her hand diminished as she became lighter. Though it was with long practice that she cut the flow enough to keep her buoyancy at that just below a fraction of her actual weight, lest she end up floating up over the rim of the nest.

Another salvo of crackles rang out, but it was more staggered than before as Tala also heard the distant ‘puff-puff’ of bolt-bows firing.

Maurine and Cherie had clearly come up slightly short of their intended flanking positions in favor of laying down long-range suppressing fire on the relatively clumped first years. The pair would have to be incredibly lucky to score any kind of telling blow at that range, but the risk of it would force the first years heads down and prevent them from easily moving to get a better angle on Cherie and herself.

“What the fuck was that?” Cherie shouted as the pair clambered into the crows nest itself, careful to keep as low as possible as they surmounted the lip of the ‘basket’. “Why’s Sala out?”

Tala scowled as she peaked over the rim of the basket to get a better view of the unfolding firefight below.

“Wax rounds,” she said simply. “Apparently the first years have something that can go through plate and they’re using wax rounds to signify it.”

 And as much as she wanted to cry bullshit on that front, she didn’t doubt that if the Academy was simulating it on a match as televised as this, the capability did exist.

The Crown wasn’t stupid enough for it not to. Not with this many people watching, and the number of stakes that were riding on this match.

Of course, they’d need to prove it afterwards with some sort of demonstration, but for the moment it could be reasonably taken on faith that this weapon existed and the match was ‘legitimate’.

To that end, this was likely some secret weapon of the Crown they’d presented to William to curry favour. All the better to get their claws into the man who likely had the means to kill a kraken while simultaneously indebting them to him…

Unless this new capability was William’s, in that this weapon was what he’d used to kill the Kraken?

A human was a far cry from a kraken, but if the capability was scaled up?

She shook her head.

It wasn’t important right now. Later, but not now. For now, she needed to operate around this new… paradigm.

What did she know? The weapon was loud. It outranged her own weapon. It had a reasonably slow rate of fire relative to a bolt-bow as far as she could tell – or perhaps it had limited ammunition? Armor was useless against it, but given the limitations of its simulation, or perhaps the realities of the weapon itself, cover was still proof against it.

“We need to close range while staying close to the ground,” she decided. “Keep it close quarters.”

That would nullify the enemy range advantage while only making her own weapons more effective.

…She also needed an opening to get down from the watchtower as its shortcomings now outweighed its advantages.

“Through plate!? That’s such-” Cherie was still shouting over the occasional crack of the new weapon and the puffing of bolt-bows, but Tala cut her off.

“Quiet! I need to contact Maurine and Elsie. Vent your tank and get ready to drop fast on my order.”

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Maurine nodded as Tala’s voice cut out.

That was fine, she’d conveyed everything she needed to.

Mostly not to get shot by whatever was making that ‘cracking’ sound.

To that end, the plan was shock and awe. The moment their leader peered over the parapet of the crow’s nest and started laying down fire, both Maurine and Elsie were to advance low to the ground at speed while contributing their own suppression.

Under such circumstances, they weren’t expecting to hit anything, but it would give them the best odds of closing the distance, while also giving Cherie an opportunity to drop from the crows nest and advance herself.

With three dangerous targets advancing from three different directions at once, the first years stood a decent chance of being overwhelmed with targets and failing to focus down any of them.

…Assuming they were even experienced enough to recognize the inaccuracy of the incoming fire and continue shooting rather than duck down in the face of incoming suppressive fire.

A thought that sounded dismissive, but was really just sensible in Maurine’s estimation.

After all, it was an easy enough mistake to make in the heat of combat and a decent part of the reason why their instructors emphasized keeping a cool head. More often than not being able to do so was less about being able to make good decisions and more about being calm enough to be aware of the factors involved to actually make those decisions.

Instead of simply letting everything get reduced to noise and immediate threats.

No, being able to observe, think and then act was what made a decent marine-knight. Which was why neither she nor Elsie had hesitated to deviate from their earlier orders to draw up short and lay down covering fire when Sala ‘died’.

Yes, now they had to cover more ground than they might if they kept advancing, but there was every chance the match would now be a two on five rather than a four on five.

Three.

Two.

One.

On cue, she caught a glimpse of Tala popping up with bolt-bow in hand before Maurine jetted out of her cover on a burst of blue-green aether. Shooting across the arena she held down the trigger of her bolt-bow in the vague direction of one of the shorter first year’s positions.

The girl – the dwarf – flinched back as bolts clattered against the wood around her and Maurine grinned.

A talented first year was still just a first year after all – and some instincts could only come with experience.

Though that smile dimmed some as a loud crack rang out, something shooting past Maurine’s ear as another figure – the orc – poked her new wonder weapon out, utterly uncaring of the distant shots coming from Marline as most missed and the others simply clattered off her armour.

Still, even as Maurine darted into a nearby bit of cover, she knew she’d accomplished her task. The first years were clumped together and now she – and hopefully Elsie – had perfect flanking shots on the collection of debris the first years were using for cover.

They’d be exposed, and Maurine was close enough for her weapon to be reliable enough at finding chinks in armour.

She slid another magazine into place before poking out, just in time to catch the dwarf trying to reposition.

Only she’d defaulted to using her legs rather than a few bursts of aether.

Amateur mistake, the human girl thought clinically as she fired off a burst.

The dwarf dropped, her wonder-weapon abandoned where she’d dropped it in favour of trying to unlimber her bolt-bow.

A move she barely got halfway through before she’d fallen, dropped to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.

Grinning, she ducked back behind cover just as another crack rang out from the orc – who had actually managed to reposition while Maurine was reloading.

That was fine.

Tapping her ear, she spoke. “Dwarf is down. Pinned down by the orc. Any help?”

God, the crystal network kicked ass.

“I see her. Don’t have a good shot from here. Cherie and Elsie will keep the others covered. I’ll be descending to help post haste. We’ll finish her and then roll up the rest of the team.”

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Tala smiled as she touched down into cover behind where she’d last seen the orc.

Oh, the first years had tried to shoot at her as she’d descended from the crow’s nest, but Elsie’s continued encroachment on their flank had forced the first years to switch targets lest the other girl get an easy shot on them.

Such was the advantage of the crystal network. Tala had been able to time her descent just as Elsie and Cherie started to move.

Indeed, things were going well after the upset in the opening moments of the match. For one thing, it seemed she’d been right about the first years’ new wonder weapon having limited uses.

From Cherie’s last report, two of the three she could see trying to hold off her and her two teammates were down to using their bolt-bows. Being attacked from two angles, the three remaining first years were perfectly pinned in place, giving her ample time to hunt down the one member who’d managed to break out of the ‘encirclement’.

Truth be told, she couldn’t even fault William for his approach to the match. Faced with the tangled maze that was the arena, and up against a team with more experience than his own, it made some sense to hunker down and force them to come to him by making use of his new weapons.

The alternative was venturing out to be split up, cut off and destroyed piecemeal.

At least by sticking to his starting location he could keep track of his people and use the backwall of the arena to protect his rear.

And it might have worked if it weren’t for his opening salvo failing to down more than one of her people and the crystal network allowing Tala to coordinate her people even as they attacked from multiple angles.

Admittedly, she’d have been capable of the latter even without the crystal network if she’d used Academy hand signals from her position in the crows nest, but that would have both kept her there and allowed her opponent to read her intentions as she conveyed them.

Certainly, Cherie wouldn’t have been able to make her initial descent if William had the time to command his people to focus her down even with Elsie and Maurine moving up the flanks.

Tapping her ear, she came to a stop as she caught sight of Maurine flitting between cover a few meters ahead.

Theoretically, that meant the dark elf was somewhere between them.

 “Eyes on?” she asked, ducking back as a few shots from the first-years near the entrance struck the cover around her.

“Ahead of me. See that upturned shard wing?”

She did, though there were a few obstacles keeping her from seeing the base of it.

 “Her back should be right to you. I think she saw you coming down, but I’ve got her pinned.”

“Alright. She’s probably watching for me, so we’ll move together on three. I’ll poke out just enough to flashbang her and you move up to finish her while she’s mindlessly spraying in my direction.”

Though it was tempting to float up and over the obstacles between them to get a shot, the last attempt proved that ran the risk of her being shot by the rest of the first-years who were still exchanging fire with the rest of her team. Indeed, those shots were likely an attempt to keep her off their teammate who would be utterly ignorant of her approaching ‘death’.

As she got ready to move, she couldn’t but think that it was a shame the first years didn’t have a crystal network of their-

A crack rang out and Tala flitted back just as she was about to turn the corner. The timing of it couldn’t have been worse though as Maurine had started to dash forward.

“Wait, Maur-”

Her words were cut off by a loud boom and as Tala turned around the corner she watched her teammate be blasted off her feet by… some kind of - some kind of multi-barrel volley-bow variant.

One that made use of the first-year’s new armour piercing technology.

Wax or not, the thing had enough power to visibly blow Tala’s teammate off her feet in a deluge of orange wax.

Tala didn’t wait to hear the girl’s ‘death’ proclamation before she started to bring her own bow up.

But the orc was already moving. As if she’d been expecting Tala just as she’d clearly been expecting Maurine.

The ingrate had the audacity to throw her weapon at Tala, bolts pinging off it as it acted as a moving barrier between the greenskin and Tala’s shots – right up until it smacked straight into the human’s chest.

And it was not soft.

Still, Tala was hardly a small girl herself while clad in armour and shrugged it off to keep firing at the advancing orc.

Instead of dodging, the savage ran straight at her like a bull, shots bouncing off her heavy armor. Seconds felt like a lifetime as Tala emptied half a clip into the massive beast, blasting aether from her feet to backpedal as she did.

“Oh no you don’t,” the thing grunted as she grabbed Tala’s ankle, grip like iron as she used it as a fulcrum to bodily slam the Blackstone heir into the floor.

“Ugh!” Tala grunted, stars dancing across her vision as her helmeted head smashed into the concrete.

The air was driven from her lungs and she could only blink blearily as the monster lifted her once more, only to slam her down again – the human’s aether tank making her light enough for the beast to physically swing around.

Blearily, the human tried to use a burst of aether to escape or… do something, but the orc’s grip would not relent. Fortunately, that did at least drain her aether tank enough that she quickly became heavy enough that the orc could no longer fling her about one handed.

Though not before she was slammed into the ground with bruising force a few times more.

With that in mind, it was hardly much of a surprise at all when she found herself able to do little more than lie there and wheeze as her badly bruised body protested the last few seconds.

“There, that’s… oh shit, you aren’t dead are you?” She vaguely heard the orc say. “I, uh, didn’t mean to hurt-hurt you.”

Tala didn’t respond.

She wasn’t dead.

In either sense of the word.

The Floats had specific rules around people being eliminated, and beating someone into submission was not counted amongst them. Even if it would have worked ‘practically’.

“Cadet: Marline eliminated!”

“Aw fuck, really.” The orc said, momentarily distracted as she stood up. “How?”

Which was all Tala needed as she rolled over.

Because beaten or not, it’d be a cold day in the void when that was enough to make a Blackstone drop her weapon.

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“Cadet: Verity Eliminated!”

Elsie’s frustration at the sound of Maurine being eliminated was somewhat offset by the ‘death’ of her killer.

She had no idea how that had happened. And she couldn’t ask either as both Tala and Maurine were still connected to each other.

 The situation wasn’t helped by the rest of the first years slipping the noose.

Though not without losses of their own, she thought as she glanced at the downed form of… team seven’s dark elf if she didn’t miss her mark.

The dark elf was a bit stockier.

“You ok?” she asked, head on a swivel, as she cautiously moved up to Cherie’s crouched form.

“Fine,” the girl grunted irritably as she visibly resisted the urge to rub her eyes through her helmet.

Two simultaneous flashbang spells to the face couldn’t have been fun. Hell, she’d probably have been killed if hadn’t thought to immediately respond in kind.

…And been equipped with a pretty ideal weapon for that kind of close-range fight.

The volley-bow might not have had the longevity of a regular bolt-bow where ammo capacity to concern, but the ability to unleash a veritable barrage of shots at a moments notice was not to be underestimated.

Well, that combined with the fact that Cherie being the only member of their team who wasn’t the scion of some noble house.

She was just that talented.

As evidenced by the ‘dead’ first year sprawled out – and probably glaring at them – nearby. Casually, Elsie stepped over to rifle through the girl’s – the dark elf’s – pockets in search of fresh clips.

For just a moment, she considered the girl’s downed… wax-bolt, before dismissing the thought.

Curious as she might have been about the weapon, mid-match wasn’t the time to start playing with new equipment. For one thing, she had no idea how the thing even fired, given that she couldn’t see any kind of aether-tank on the long barrelled weapon.

 Standing up, she hustled back over to Cherie. “Well, it’s just two left now.”

The high elf and Ashfield himself, Elsie thought as she and Cherie crouched practically back to back behind a pile of lumber.

Tapping her helmet again, she was relieved as the orb-channel came to life this time. “Tala, you ok?”

“Fine,” the girl in question grunted with what sounded like audible discomfort.

It seemed whatever had happened had left her feeling a little worse for wear, though good luck getting their leader to admit that. She also knew better than to ask what happened to Maurine – mostly how the girl had managed to die to a first-year orc in a two on one matchup.

There was a time and a place for that kind of discussion though and this wasn’t it. “We’ve downed their dark but the last two are in the wind.”

“Wha- How?” The girl practically wheezed. “Actually, never mind, what direction did they head in?”

“East flank. The tower should be between you and them.”

“Alright,” Tala grunted, clearly creating a mental map. “You’ve got permission to pursue, but don’t get cocky. Standing orders regarding the new weapon remain. Stay low and close to cover. I’ll loop back towards our starting location and we’ll pincer them.”

“Understood,” Elsie said, closing the comms and turning to Cherie. “We’re going after them. Stay low.”

The other girl scoffed behind her helmet as she stood up. “Obviously.”

In moments the two were moving, darting around rubble with quick bursts of aether as they kept their eyes peeled. Still, it was somewhat inevitable that, unless their foe was still in flight, they’d see the third years before the opposite was true.

The first warning was a burst of bolts that clattered across Elsie’s armor, though none managed to find purchase in her soft undersuit.

“Contact,” she shouted, catching sight of a distant figure even as she darted into cover. “Bearing Eleven.”

“Confirmed,” Cherie called back as she too slid to a stop behind cover.

It seemed the first years were sticking to their strategy of hugging the outer walls of the arena. Though given that they were clearly out of ‘wax’ rounds that was likely a decision borne of strategic inertia rather than proper reasoning.

With that said, there wasn’t really a ‘right’ option at this point. Outclassed and outnumbered, with their special munitions clearly depleted, this match was all-but over.

With that said, Elsie wasn’t so foolish as to let her guard down as she popped up to exchange fire with the distant cadet. Across from her, Cherie used the opportunity to advance before laying down her own barrage of shots.

They didn’t need to communicate for this bit. It was as rote as could be as they alternately moved to flank the first year’s last holdout. Two separate plumes of aether rang out from the pile the first-years were hiding behind as they fired with frankly horrific accuracy towards both her and Cherie.

Definitely freaked and running on instinct, Elsie thought absently.

Though what did they expect after challenging a team with two years of experience over them?

Clearly, they’d been banking on their new wonder weapon to carry them through.

…Like idiots.

“Final two are cornered Tala,” Elsie reported as she slid to a stop just short of the first-years final refuge. “Possible they’re having ammo trouble. Second has stopped firing.”

“Make no assumptions. Hold position, I’m coming up behind you now.” Sure enough, Elsie heard the telltale burst of aether accompanied by the low thud of something hitting dirt as Tala slid to a stop behind her.

“Cherie, you move on three. We’ll move on four,” the girl reported, hand to her ear suggesting she’d switched orbs to speak to Cherie. “Sequential flashes as soon as you break cover. Cherie. Elsie. Me. Cherie. Care for crossfire once we turn the corner.”

Elsie nodded, the last thing they needed to do was blind or shoot each other.

“One.” Cherie fired off a few rounds.

“Two.” Then Elsie.

“Three.” There was a burst of aether as the team’s most heavily armored surviving member rocketed out of cover, the tail end of a spell on her lips.

Which Elsie didn’t hear, nor did she see as she glanced away just as a retina burning flash erupted from her teammate’s position along with a earth shaking boom - instead she focused on chanting under her breath.

“Four!” Tala grunted just as she and Elsie erupted from their own cover.

The two jetted across the intervening space as they swept wide of the first-years position, Elsie’s voice roaring. “-invoke the power of our covenant. Light and Noise. Flashbang!”

Light blasted forth along with an ungodly noise as they sought to deafen and blind the first-years.

…And that was when something slammed into her back, splattering upwards to strike the back of her helmet.

“Wha-” she grunted as the unexpected blow forced her flight trajectory down towards the dirt – and given that she’d been skimming but a few inches from it before – that was all it took to send her skidding across it in an ungainly heap.

It was not graceful – and the only thing that saved it from being worse was the fast reactions of Tala that kept her from flying directly into her. Instead, the girl overshot with a sudden flare of aether.

“Cadet: Cherie eliminated. Cadet: Elsie eliminated.”

And sure enough, as Elsie glanced up she saw that Cherie was likewise sprawled out, an orange stain blasted across her back.

But how!? She thought as she twisted, only to see a single figure silhouetted against the ceiling lights as they stood atop the watchtower, long barrelled rifle aimed and ready.

But… there was only two…

And glancing over, she saw it, as the boy – Ashfield! – rose from behind the pile with a bolt-bow in each arm!

He’d tricked them. There’d never been a second shooter behind the pile. Instead she’d made her way toward the tower… which was why he’d positioned himself against the wall!

It put their backs to the tower!

That was… such bullshit! Tala should have seen the girl on the way past – unless she’d timed her climb to start the moment their team leader went past.

It was a short window to claim a firing position, but doable with a quick burst of aether and a full tank!

Even if it was absurdly lucky!

Hell, the reason they hadn’t heard Cherie go down – even with the delay between how fast a wax-bow could fire – was because the noise had been drowned out by the fucking flashbangs!

All those thoughts went through her mind in a moment, as she turned towards her leader.

A leader who’d seen her go down - and was now torn between trying to evade the target to her rear and eliminating the one right in front of her.

And that momentary hesitation cost her as both the Ashfield and the highelf fired at once, rounds slamming into Tala from both sides – though not before she got off a shot of her own.

Silence rang out across the arena as their team leader dropped like a stone.

“…Cadet: Tala eliminated. Cadet: William eliminated.” The voice sounded almost as stunned as Elsie felt.

Silence reigned across the arena.

“Team Seven-One… win.”

-----------------------

Olzenya felt her body go limp as she practically collapsed, nerveless fingers barely managing to hold onto the spell-bolt she’d just used to… wipe out three members of the enemy team.

She couldn’t believe it. Actually, could not believe it.

She’d thought they were done when Marline went down. Hell, she’d thought they were done when she and Bonnlyn had missed their targets in the opening moments of the match.

Losing Marline to a fluke shot had just sealed it in her mind.

She’d wanted to be the bait when William told her his new plan.

Truly.

Anything to avoid the pressure of being the ‘shooter’. After all, William was the much better shot.

Only he couldn’t do that, because he’d instead chosen to try and perform a miracle before the match even started.

“Told you that you could do it,” an irritatingly smug voice slurred into her ear. “Like shooting fish in a barrel.”

Though how much of that was down to the harpy venom running through William’s veins and how much was down to the… peculiar invention he’d created she didn’t know.

She knew for a fact his words were horseshit.

“That’s my tutoring coming in strong,” Marline grunted, only slightly surly about her fluke downing, but mostly just proud.

“Well done Oz,” Verity whispered. “I, um, I’m sorry I left you guys in a lurch.”

“Yeah, yeah. She did great. William had an insane plan that somehow worked. Marline’s tutoring is very helpful. Verity should learn to double tap. That’s great,” Bonnlyn slurred. “How long do you think it’ll be until the refs get out here with anti-venom? Because I’ve got a spur poking right into my left ass cheek. Like, right in there.”

“Right ass cheek?” Willaim scoffed. “I’d take that any day. I’m practically doing the splits here.”

“…That doesn’t sound so bad?” Verity said.

“It is if you’ve got a pair of testicles,” Marline muttered.

It was all Olzenya could do not to laugh as her team slurred, whined and cheered into her ears. As if they hadn’t just performed the impossible.

Or as if they weren’t speaking to each other from across an impossible distance, As with little to mar their voice beyond a middling crackle.

Were they all going mad? Had they joined William in his insanity?

One of the most important magical innovations in recent memory – and they were using it to complain about how they’d fallen uncomfortably in a fight against a team of third years that they’d also impossibly beaten.

How it worked, she didn’t know. William had just said electromagnetism and vibrations as he practically jammed the small metal bead into her ear.

Into all their ears.

An almost hysterical chuckle tried to slip from her throat.

Instantaneous communication between five people. With little more than a few spell charges and some metal.

Sure, William claimed it’d be lucky if the enchantment lasted an hour, but that was just… typical of him.

Do the impossible and then act like it was nothing.

And, as much as she hated to admit it, he’d needed to perform the impossible.

Disrupting Tala’s ambush so Verity could get the drop on her other attacker? Only possible because she’d been able to communicate that need for aid to William.

Their simultaneous three pronged assault on... the armored girl? Even if Marline had gotten unlucky, that breakout had only been possible because they’d been able to move as one.

And finally, her climbing of the tower to get an open shot on their backs? Only possible because William had told her the moment Tala was focused on him. She’d certainly not been able to make that judgment from where she’d been hiding. Aether bursts weren’t that loud.

Finally, timing her shots so they’d not be heard? Only possible because he’d been relaying the timing of their chanting.

Without that… well, she might have gotten one, but the other two would have scattered and then it would be a two on two against superior opponents with William practically out of ammo and Olzenya herself completely bereft of a bolt-bow and down to a single wax round.

No, they’d not have won that.

Perhaps if he’d had Marline or Verity at his back it might have been possible.

Not her though.

…Or perhaps not?

Some part of her wanted to gloat. To preen. To claim her accomplishment as her own and hers alone.

But that was a small part. One that more and more she found she wanted to leave behind.

For just a moment, she wondered if her sister was watching? If she was afraid?

She hoped so, but it was a distant thing.

Because right now all she wanted to focus on was this feeling.

This sense of triumph. Of camaraderie.

Like she could take on the world.

…Like she belonged.

And that feeling only grew as the crowds around them finally started to cheer. Some because Team Seven had been the underdog. Some because they were abolitionists. Some just because they’d wanted to see House Blackstone be humbled.

Olzenya didn’t care why they were cheering. They didn’t matter. Not really.

Only the people cheering, bickering or just plain being smug in her ear counted.

And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Speaking of awkward positions,” she muttered as she watched members of staff making their way into the field. “Could, uh, one of you direct someone to come and… retrieve me?”

For some reason her legs just refused to cooperate. It wasn’t the result of harpy venom or anything like that.

They just… seemed to be done for the day.

A sentiment she could well get behind.

The next time William needed three-fifths of a third-year team wiping out, he could damn well do it himself.

She was done. For the rest of the year at least.

“Our conquering hero everyone,” Bonnlyn laughed. “About to be carried down from her lofty perch in a bucket.”

Ha, Olzenya didn’t care.

She’d wiped out three-fifths of a third year team in her first semester. She had nothing left to prove to anyone.

Not a damn thing.

“Perhaps being insane isn’t too bad?” she murmured as she plucked the metal bead from her ear.