An Eye for an Eye (2)
'That guy's sharp in the strangest ways.'
The inciting incident had unfolded just minutes earlier, right before the Cyclops sortied.
"In a mess like this, spies or thieves always raid the empty house, don't they?"
"What're you talking about?"
"It's such a cliché—stealing the half-built machine amid the chaos..."
"Only Aizen would spout nonsense I can't even parse."
Aizen had tossed out the remark as if it just hit him while climbing into the cockpit.
As Aizen and Mina traded barbs, flaunting their easy rapport amid the curses, Reina suddenly felt a chill of unease.
'If they play it smart...'
By the book, Erica should hold the castle as the count's proxy. Noel and Mina ought to head to the nobles' evacuation site from the party, with Reina—assigned as Noel's guard—staying there too. The factory would sit empty.
If it were just monsters, she'd chalk it up to thin defenses. But...
'What if it's like Aizen said...?'
Shaken by the bad vibe, Reina had been about to beg off from Erica and Noel to stay behind. Instead, Mina beat her to it.
"Halt units 3 and 4. Everyone swarm unit 2. Merchant boss's orders. I'm sticking around."
"Then I'll stay too. I've peeked over shoulders enough to advise on the magic tools..."
The two women who'd been thick as thieves with Aizen stayed put—no one had asked them to.
Maybe because Aizen's offhand gripe had rung true for them: people who'd always had to pull off miracles solo, wanting to this time. They'd seized his words as their cue to move.
"Tell them Erica Phoenix is holding this place. Butler handles the shelter nobles' panic—command funnels here. Grab my armor and sword on your way."
Erica caught the vibe, committing to stay and gear up right there.
And mere minutes after Aizen rolled out in the Cyclops to fight...
"Never figured an actual rat would bite."
Reina slung her sheathed sword over her shoulder with a fierce grin.
It was her old knight-days slouch—scouted from the peasantry for her sword arm, always chewed out for bad manners. No one ever fixed it since it screamed Reina, and she'd only broken the habit herself after becoming a professor.
Years off the battlefield, yet battle's scent yanked her back to peak form in a heartbeat.
"Hope you're braced to die, you dog bastards."
The servant-disguised spies tensed into combat stances, gripping daggers and short spears from gods-knew-where. One fixated on Reina's casual stroll; the other split attention between Noel rising into the air and Erica drawing her flaming blade.
"Swift Blade Reina... why isn't one of the kingdom's top five at the front...?"
"Damn it—didn't game out facing Nexia on top of Phoenix...!"
Reina ranked among Vespa's elite knights, her rep echoing even to the Empire.
And in Vespa, where nobles duked it out with monsters as a point of pride, you didn't sleep on noble ladies. One hailed from lightning-wielding Nexia prestige. The other guarded the Empire border: fiery Phoenix.
Next-gen nobility's absolute cream of the crop.
From behind, Saros Church's fifth saintess lounged arms-crossed, overseeing from safety.
Seemed like slacking, but holy casters weren't frontline brawlers. From line of sight, she could seal any ally with divine support anytime.
Her mere presence weighed heavy on foes. She traced a finger across her throat and declared:
"Wipe 'em."
"Anyone'd think you're in charge, Mina."
Noel flicked her hand as she spoke. A fierce spark bloomed before her, morphing into a crackling orb that shot forward.
The bolt scattered against the Empire spy's whipped-out cloak, but Noel stayed cool.
"Heard spies tote mana-jamming cloth to counter Vespa spells."
Handy for sneaking or scraps, by all accounts.
But.
"Won't stop a blade."
Reina's crude growl rang out as she slashed. No blocking that.
Cloth jammed magic, not raw steel.
The battle-hardened spies tried obscuring vision with it, stabbing with dagger and spear—but their foe was Reina.
Spear shattered. A gut kick launched one flying.
"What a freak..."
"You're the weak punk here!"
The spies flinched at her bark. Noel's bolt nailed them; their late cloak-flare left gaps zapped.
"Guh...?!"
"Surrender, and we'll POW you proper."
Noel hovered, crackling with electricity.
Frail on foot normally, but she flew unleashing lightning.
Beside her, Erica skewered her mark, flicked blood from her blade. The shocked and bleeding spies huddled.
"No holes to crawl into, scum."
Reina's voice cut cold. Noel owned the sky. Reina and Erica pinched from both ground flanks. No escape—that's when it hit.
"Whew, glad I tagged along too."
A man's voice rang out. Reina kicked off the ground.
She blocked a strike hurtling at airborne Noel.
In the split-second gap, a servant-clad man lunged at Erica; she parried with sword.
Fifteen clashes rang out. Erica's face twisted. Noel's lightning flew—then Reina crashed the party.
The foe retreated without pause. Reina scowled.
"You too, huh."
"On dispatch, but this trumps it. Didn't peg you for here."
Reina waved calmly. Noel and Erica eased back as the foe swung, boasting:
"Phoenix count raised a real daughter. Didn't wrap in ten. Five more passes, and we'd have slipped."
"Not on my watch."
Reina leveled her cold steel.
"Sword Saint, Tsvite."
The intruder was one of the Empire's sword saints.
****
The one-eyed giant roared in, charging.
Overheating flushed its skin red; smoke billowed, body bloated like a balloon.
Moving the dagger-wielding Cyclops shook the earth—small monsters bolted on survival instinct. Then the titans traded blows.
The dagger grazed.
The giant's fist smashed Cyclops' face dead-on.
"GRRROOOOAR!!"
The head-crunch sent Cyclops toppling. Head structure spared the monoeye—he clocked that post-fall, but the giant's high leap hit first.
Backpack jetted him skyward fast; the fist cratered the cockpit's old spot.
"Frozen? Instant death."
The life-burning giant's power visibly taxed even Cyclops.
He righted, punched. Giant shrugged the hit, seized the arm, shoved.
Seemed a stalemate—then arm-pressure alarms wailed in the cockpit.
Cyclops' output matched, but the giant edged efficiency in close quarters.
"Nah—dead even, but it delivers power cleaner up close."
Made sense he'd lose now.
Cyclops: mass-producible all-rounder. Space nation soul meant bipedal ease-of-build, ranged focus.
Close viable, but outgunned.
"Gotta spec a melee monster next."
One candidate sprang to mind—but survival first for hope.
And most crucially.
"Data collection's the goal, yeah?"
Past foes barely qualified. Now, a true rival.
Legs worked. Arms too. Dented all over, but Cyclops hummed on.
So this moment.
"Test the research ace?"
Mana surged into the stick. Felt it race through cockpit to the golem's engine.
"Figured it'd be a fun gimmick—demo here?"
Heatmetal tinkering birthed this pilot safeguard. Meant for engine fails: emergency manual override.
But...
"Can also overload the engine wild."
Literally: Overload.
Cyclops thrummed, infused with his mana atop its own.
VROOOOOM...!
Engine bellowed beast-roar levels of power.
Mana blend made the golem feel like his body.
"Let's go."
Grip tightened on the stick.
The dagger glowed cherry-red.
The red monoeye blazed fierce once more.