Belotte drove the horses as fast as he could. His eyes remained fixed on the carriage down the road.
"There are six survivors."
He turned to Albedo and nodded, taking the woman's words as they are.
And then a roar, then panic. He watched as three people hauled one more on their shoulders and run. Leaving behind two people to the mercies of what's coming.
"...fuck... We won't make it!" Belotte gritted out.
Then, the tree line shook. Birds flew away, disturbed and afraid. And with the thunderous sound of a barks breaking, a small horde of Ogres burst through the treeline and scrambled for the road. Throwing shrubs, trees and even some of their own as they scrambled forward.
There was a couple dozen of them. Hulking monstrosities with enough muscle and weight to flatten a sizable village.
Belotte, in a bout of hesitation, thought to pull the reigns. But a spell hit him before he could.
"[•Widen Magic: Lion's Heart•]" casts Albedo.
They felt their confidence surge. Drowning out their doubts and hesitation. A burning resolved that burned all fears away and boiled his blood into action.
Belotte could still think clearly, and wondered playfully whether such a spell was a curse or a blessing.
Suddenly, his cart trembled and from behind came an armored glove that held his shoulder firmly.
Belotte turned to see Momonga with his helmet on, looking straight at the approaching horde.
With a squeeze that gave him assurance, the six foot tall pile of steel and muscles jumped with awe inspiring strength.
He traced a graceful arc mid air. His sword held in both hands, hefted over his shoulder and poised to go down.
As he crashed, Momonga blurred into a flash of a blade. Like a guillotine, decapitating an ogre in a swoop.
He landed with such strength that his boots scraped fiercely against the dirt. His sword, lashed unhindered, his momentum not stopping.
With incredible grace, he twisted his body, feet pivoting, and shoulders dragging elbows, to elbows dragging wrist, to wrist directing hands.
With a loud– *Shangk-!
Momonga swung a second arc. Cleaving another ogre diagonally.
Continuing his spin, he ducked beneath a wooden club while his sword traced a perfect circle into a horizontal cleave.
*Shiiiingk~
Those who were watching let out a breath as he screeched into a halt. Followed by three bodies falling dead.
Three dead in less than three seconds.
Britta muttered one word, "...incredible."
A word riddled with surprise, awe, fear and envy. He same bubbling feelings that rattled everyone else's heart.
As if to knock him back into focus, Albedo jumped from her seat and rushed forward.
Her footsteps shattered rocks and flattened dirt. One hand held her scabbard steady either the other hovering over her grip.
An ogre swung downward, missing her by a hair's breath. With swift movement and a flash of gold. Albedo unsheathed and cut the ogre's leg.
She stood gracefully, launching herself to two more ogres. And with but flashes of silver and the sound of grinding steel, *shing- sinhg- fwing- hwūng- she crippled them with either a missing arm or a missing leg.
Belotte remained seated, frozen as he looked at them both. Standing side by side like the Old Heroes.
One stood like a monolith of strength and steel while the other, a beacon of hope and beauty.
"Well... I guess Albedo-san was right. Twelve years of conflict was being modest."
Britta's words sent a chill down their spine. Because deep down, they believe she was right.
"Come on! Let's not embarrass ourselves!" shouted Belotte.
"You mean more than we already have?" only to nearly faceplant at his friend's words.
And all he could do was blush and scramble forward amidst their snickers and giggles.
'Snickers and giggles... in front of a small horde of ogres. What have you gotten yourself into this time Belotte.'
His self reprimand took a step back as his mage used [•Twine Grove•] and trapped three ogres with rapidly rising vines that held their arms and legs in place. Leaving them open for both him and his warrior companion to reap.
One ogre broke through and was about to hit him, but he raised his shield in time and used [Fortress], successfully blocking the attack while he cut off the extended arm. With the warrior burying his axe to the monster's skull.
Belotte receiving [•Lesser Strength•] from his mage, intercepted two ogres and performed three consecutive Marshal Arts, [Slash].
His blade cut off the hand of an ogre with a raised weapon. He then cleaved the exposed belly with an upward-diagonal cut while ducking beneath another club and dragging his sword across the belly of the attacker.
His body slid to a stop, not caring about the spilled innards of monsters and immediately gasped out a hot breath. Sweat immediately formed on his brows while his sword hand shook with fatigue.
'Too much... too much strain in single breath. Fuck! I should have been more careful.'
His thoughts were cut off as he saw Momonga cut off an Ogre's leg with a wide swing. Side stepped a thrown club. Ducked beneath a punch and then- he stepped in.
Belotte's eyes widened as things slowed for his mind to comprehend.
He watched as Momonga ducked and stepped in. His foot cracking the dirt. His cape bellowed as if dragged by the wind as his body twists. His extended sword arm locked it's shoulder, poised to defend his exposed side while his other fist clenched closed, and with a punch- *bangh!
With the sound of cracking thunder, his punch exploded and burst the ogre's skull like a balloon full of brains.
'...A Hero...' he thought.
The Highest and most powerful level a human could reach. Said to be of lineages born of divine. Belotte couldn't help but wonder if he were among them.
"[•Lion's Strength•]!!"
Albedo's voice cut through his thoughts and to his elevation, he felt his muscles cooldown and the strain greatly lessen.
With new found resolve and determination, he attacked.
The battle flowed seemlessly afterwards. With little to no fear of their enemies and confidence in their allies. Panic was non-existent, a fact that made Belotte and his team wondered if this was what it felt like to stand side by side with heroes.
—.—.—.—.—
Moments after the battle.
Momonga stood by the carriage. His sword at his back and his arms folded on his chest.
He stood strong like a watchman while he observed the others.
Britta and Nfirea are animatedly talking. The woman educating the young boy about the parts they collected. Mainly for kill verification. The stronger the monster, the better the pay.
Nfirea on the other hand nodded in understanding while offering knowledge regarding hide, and monster parts that prove valuable for any alchemist worth their salt.
Thanks to the boy, they realized that the eyes, should they be properly preserved, is worth a hefty sum of coin. Luckily for them, they have an abundance of herbs needed to do so.
"Move knight."
The haughty voice drew his attention.
Momonga turns to the carriage behind him and out stepped the nobleman. Now with new pants and still the annoying little cretin who has an audacious tone that he truly disliked.
It bit on his pride. A pride that had grown with his recent fight. Add to that is the fact that the boy's eyes continued to leer at Albedo as she inspect the weapons. Weapons collected from the various dead men where she started her pick on which were of acceptable standards.
A standard he knew would have been impossible to reach had he not told her to pick the sharpest and sturdiest ones.
Momonga's eyes trailed her body as she gracefully threaded the grounds. Her skirt seemed to teasingly grace just above the blood and spatter.
Her eyes shifted from one weapon to the next, knowing what to look for with but a single glance. And as she stepped in front of a gleaming longsword, she stood with her back turned to him and bent over.
His eyes trailed her form, her curve, the length and the stretch of her skirt. Skirt that parted as her knees bent slightly, exposing her long leg. With a flick of her hair, she shifted her eyes towards him. Yellow eyes peering through her peripheral, horns shined like ivory beneath the light with lips, red and softly smiling. She slowly stood, her back arched, making her breastplate poke out into his sight.
And then she waved playfully with her fingers.
Heat poofed out like steam atop his head whilst his face burned red. He had been staring, unknowingly it might be. Caught staring he still was.... now the problem is, he couldn't look away.
"Finally! She noticed me."
The boy swaggered towards Albedo and for a moment, he entertained the idea of removing him from existence. He even imagined himself grabbing the bastard by his collar and just tossing him towards the mountains. Letting the idiot turn into a red spatter elsewhere.
His eyes darkened as Albedo continues to smile and walk in their direction.
Only when the boy puffed his chest and Albedo walked passed him, did light returned to his red eyes.
"It's done Momonga-sama." there was a pep at her voice with a smile as warm as sunshine.
Albedo looked like she was looking for either his acknowledgement or a reward. And yet, what he did was simple.
He gently patted her head twice, before softly running his hand across the length of her hair.
He pulled her close while his hand trailed from her head to her neck, to her back and lower, ending just at the tip of her hair, right above her flared hips.
And as he slowly pulled her closer, the more his eyes devoured her eyes. Not the beau, nor the body that is making the respectful ones question their integrity, and lecherous ones fume in envy.
No.
Momonga was immersed instead on her eyes. So expressive, so alive... so loved.
He could feel the unseen breeze engulf him. Holding him like a soft cloak of warmth. Seemingly wanting to lift his fatigue, to serve his every move, to be present and pressed at him at all times.
He doesn't understand what it was but-
"This feels nice..."
His whisper might as well be a shout in the silence.
He turned to look around, realizing how everyone was quiet. Each one was trying and failing to give the two of them some semblance of privacy. But then again, he was the one standing in the open.
Blushing at his slip-up, he turned to Albedo who looked down with a soft smile. Eyes glistening beneath the light. Gently leaning her cheek on his palm.
While Momonga struggled with indecision, within the young Succubus' mind, a scream was snuffed in silence.
'He Loves Me! He Wants Me! He Desires Me! He Loves Me! He Touched Me! He Holds Me! He Loves Me! He Loves Me! '
The desire ran rampant beneath her skin. Like a wish fulfilled and is waiting to be held. But a piece of held her back.
'Why Momonga-sama must you doubt yourself so?'
The thought of him holding himself back for her sake hurt her. But she knew, she can't just hold him. She feared breaking him, this fragile thing between them. It was shallow, it was thin and most certainly too premature that taking him now would not only burn them both. But it would also close what little room he allowed into his door.
'Please Yamaiko-sama... what do I do.'
It broke her heart seeing and feeling it but she held true.
She is the Overseer of Nazarick. He defacto Queen of the Supreme Ruler himself.
She would wait...
She can wait...
But, that doesn't mean she has to stand still.
Albedo breath out softly, her eyes fluttered. And with a gentle smile, she turned head... and kissed the palm of his hand.
And to her unspoken joy, her eyes flashed gold when she saw it. The spark of want in his eyes.
The gentle and fluffy bubble they had cocooned themselves in, suddenly popped as Mave the ranger burst from the clearing.
He stood before his Team Leader, panting out the words-
"Edström- *gasp~ Zuranon- Kidnapped!- Princess- Princess Sylvia-"