Gamer Girl Isekai

The Sculds were everywhere, and their numbers had no limit. Aexilica leapt back as an axe came too-close for her face, whipped a few of the hairs on her head and swung past. Her retaliatory stroke was better aimed, catching the attacker just under his jaw and half-decapitating him as the flashing metal tore on past.

Blood spurted, crimson pearls seeming suspended in the air as they fell. Everything was slow, almost frozen. Everything was fast, too. That unique, dilatory compression of rapid, deadly combat was fully on her now and Aexilica couldn't think nearly fast enough to make sense of everything.

So she didn't think, she just killed.

She killed as her enemy killed, and killed as her allies died. The numbers were never on Aexilica's side, not even from the start, but that imbalance worsened with every passing minute. To begin with she'd enjoyed ten men sharing her side of the corridor, by the end three had died and the rest scattered. Aexilica fancied that she did a fine job, holding off a dozen men by herself. At least for as long as she managed it. By the time she herself was forced to flee she'd cut down maybe a dozen in all.

It would have been a fine achievement, would have maybe turned the tide of a normal conflict, but in a fight this asymmetrical it was nothing more than a delaying action. Aexilica's sole solace as she fled was knowing that her enemy was now inconvenienced. And that kind of solace was no solace at all.

Everywhere she turned in the defence, similar stories were spun. The enemy was simply too numerous and in too good a position, pushing on with an attack that was far better organised than the resistance they faced. Ragni's death had meant the loss of a great fighter, but if Aexilica had gained two men as potent as the Earl in direct combat she still wasn't sure what sort of difference it would've made.

Her side was just demoralised. She and Emma were looked to as some kind of galvanising figure, in places. And scorned as the reason for everything falling apart in others. Efforts to unify the defence had profoundly failed, and the attack wasn't letting up any time soon.

Aexilica found one corner that was, actually, holding their own. She was unsurprised to find it a place held by some of Ragni's more loyal karls; men who were trained and experienced, yes, but more importantly men with a great drive to fight and keep fighting. Men who knew each other. She hadn't been welcome exactly, not at first, but her sword falling in at their sides had soon warmed them up to her. A particularly brutal assault might have swept them down the hall without Aexilica's presence, thirty attackers against less than ten defenders. With her there, they pulled through.

By paying the blood-price of two among their number, of course, and thus dropping themselves down to a mere six, herself included. That they almost halved the enemy's numbers was no great consolation. They needed their karls more than Hagor needed his volunteers.

More than six times as much.

Other places were not nearly as well defended, and once or twice Aexilica's life came very close to its end as she lended her strength elsewhere. One defence was, for some fucking reason, an open hall held by only a single Berserker and a row of volunteers. She didn't even bother helping those idiots, just sprinted away and watched them surrounded, overcome and torn apart by superior numbers through furtive glances over her shoulder. The enemy gave chase of course, but if nothing else Aexilica could singularly outrun the hordes. On another occasion, she was struck by a Runepriest's magic. He barked some ancient words and left one of her arms feeling hot and weak, sending agony deep through her flesh.

The same words directed at another man left his skin shrivelling, blood seeming to steam and hiss as it escaped. Aexilica could only imagine her natural resilience kept that fate from befalling her. Even still, the limb remained shoddy and weak for the defence's duration.

Everywhere. Everywhere was different, and yet everywhere was the same. Everywhere was a fucking defeat. If not immediately, then and there, then slowly. Aexilica had gotten herself stuck in a losing battle.

It wasn't exactly difficult for her to decide what to do about it. Even as she fought delaying actions, ehxausting herself in one corner or another of the unending struggle, she asked around about Emma. The girl seemed to be everywhere, and nowhere. When Aexilica was resting Emma always seemed to be fighting, and vice-versa. If nothing else it was easy to hear accounts of her effect on the flow of things. Emma's powers were a great deal flashier than Aexilica's own. A great deal.

South, down one of the corridors leading from that hall Aexilica had watched thrown away by the idiots, a group of the enemy were blown apart by what she imagined from its description was an "energy lance". Elsewhere, a section of ceiling crumbled and caved in to cut another attack off entirely. Corridors became sealed and filled with deadly choking gasses that, according to the witnesses, actually glowed somewhat in the darker areas they breezed through.

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Only very rarely would Emma take to the battlefield again, and that was actually something of a relief. Her stubborn refusal to fear defeat or death had been one of the most disconcerting things about fighting alongside her before.

Another had been…Well, her power. Aexilica was far from an expert on magic, but she'd not heard anything like this. Perhaps Larry had been telling more truth than she'd suspected. She made a promise to herself that she'd dig the head out of where they'd secured him for the fighting, ask him some more questions and see if she could needle out more useful answers the second time around.

But later, of course. If Aexilica had the luxury of finding a later. If she didn't fall to some pointless fight first.

Big if, that, even she had to admit.

Eventually the fatigue got too much, Aexilica took a longer break, and, of course, the defensive lines crumbled. If they'd had some strong communication set up they might've been able to organise in such a way as to minimize the disaster that ended up being. As things were, everything collapsed haphazardly, and her own side didn't even know where their own strongholds were until long after the enemy probably did.

It wasn't one side against another, really. It was an organised attack sweeping up small, disconnected pockets of idiots pointlessly digging their heels in without a chance of even inconveniencing the enemy. And yet Aexilica's only chance—however fucking small it was—still lay with the idiots.

At least until Emma found her again.

The girl did not look good. Better than most of the idiots, without a doubt. Probably better than Aexilica for that matter. Being a caster and slinging spells from afar meant she wasn't half so bruised or beaten as might otherwise have been the case, and if she had been forced to get in close she still had her damned armour too.

But there was a look in Emma's eye that hadn't been there a few weeks ago, when they'd first met. Aexilica had pitied her for thinking everything around her was some imagined dream-land. Maybe she'd been lucky the whole time. It was hard to fear a dream.

"I have news."

Aexilica heard that, and it certainly sunk in, but it was hard to feel anything of all at it. News. Not good, then. News hadn't been good for a while now, and she couldn't imagine much changing that would suddenly alter that basic state of being.

"You…Do you want to hear the news?" Aexilica realised she'd been staring out at nothing only when Emma's followup question came, and quickly blinked herself back into the present. Not good. She needed to stay sharp, or something sharp would find a new home in her back.

"What is it?" Aexilica snapped, which Emma didn't deserve but also didn't react to.

"Okay, so, you know what happened to Ragni's son right?"

"The idiot?" Aexilica frowned, remembering all the colourful things she'd heard about the young Jarl. "Yeah." Last she'd checked Vari the Moron had gotten himself captured, and not put up much of a fight in doing so.

"Not the idiot." Emma grinned. "There's another one. And this one, apparently, is even more powerful than their dad. But even better than that, he's not even a dumbass!"

That, Aexilica had to say, was very hard to believe. For more than one reason. It just seemed far too good to be true.

"What's the catch?" She frowned.

Emma hesitated at that. "He's…Also a prisoner."

Aexilica scoffed. "So out of our reach then?"

"No." Emma pressed. "Not at all, come on, think about this, a prisoner means he's in one spot, with, at worst, a very finite guard. We can find him. Actually, I already have. And now we can rush his captors and concentrate a lot of fighting power into that single spot very fast, to free him. Do you think they've dedicated a hundred men to watching him all the time? I doubt there's even fifty."

It didn't sound as good as Emma probably thought.

"Fifty is still a lot." Aexilica reminded her. "On our best day I wouldn't be confident in us winning that one."

"Okay, so we can run if it's fifty." Emma pressed. "Or cut past them to free someone tougher than you and help us out, or any number of other things. Also I think I might be better than any of my previous days now."

Right, Aexilica had forgotten that irritating habit Emma had of breaking all the rules other magic users had to stick to. Sometimes it was tempting to think her powers were genuinely unlimited.

"It's still dangerous."

"More dangerous than losing?"

Aexilica began to answer, paused, found the words dying on her lips. She really couldn't say it was. Actually, she'd been hurling herself into risky fight after risky fight anyway. Why was she so averse to this?

Because it's putting everything in one moment, giving me the chance to lose it all at once.

But that wasn't a reason, it was just a fear. Aexilica forced herself to be honest, forced herself to swallow it, and then, finally, forced herself to speak. Her throat was tight and lips dry as she did.

"Fine then."

Emma grinned, that stupid, insane grin she always seemed to have. Suddenly Aexilica found it rather annoying.

"Why are you so happy?" She spat. Emma paused, frowned in thought for a moment. Just a moment.

"I guess I just don't have a lot to worry about right now, everything's already gone to shit right? So what's there to fear?"

Aexilica blinked. Hearing it put like that actually made quite a lot of sense. She smiled, despite herself, and Emma smiled back.

"I'll try and whip up a healing potion or two." The girl suggested. "Apparently there's some stupid limit to how many potions we can drink in a short timeframe, but we'll need our energy. If going in on our best day makes you feel better, that is."

Aexilica's grin widened, she couldn't help herself.

"Thanks."

Emma hurried off at that, and Aexilica was left alone with her thoughts. They didn't take long to degenerate back into the sharp, toxic things they'd been before her friend had given her such a tempting spark of hope.

It didn't make things better, of course. Aexilica didn't need manipulating into continuing the fight. All hope was for her was the chance to be surprised when the end came. If. Damnit.