The blackguards pursued the rebels across the war-torn city. Erik raced alongside Shatterfist and the others.
The streets of New Alexandria were littered with shattered buildings and rubble, providing the rebels with various hiding and assault points.
As the blackguards advanced deeper into the city, minor fights erupted here and there. These were mostly carried out by the rebels covering for the retreat.
The pursuit wound through minor roads and abandoned buildings. Erik pondered hard about what the rebels might do next exactly, but it was no wonder that Van Dyke planned an ambush.
It was no more than a hunch, of course. Van Dyke had a plan to achieve at least a minor victory. This entire operation was a distraction, albeit a huge one, but this didn't mean Van Dyke was going to let his men and women die like that.
Besides, the rebels appeared to be too calm and well-organized to be fleeing away.
The most puzzling thing was why the blackguards chased them despite the ambush being relatively obvious.
These guys chased the rebels to the bitter end until they reached a large, open plaza.
Erik had been there many times in the past. He still remembered the bright colors of the tents that covered stalls filled with exotic fruits, aromatic spices, and handcrafted products.
Merchants used to scream out their products, their voices mixing with children's laughter and consumers' bartering.The booths remained, their bright textiles faded, and their merchandise scattered among the wreckage.
As they advanced, a chaotic maelstrom of attacks erupted from all directions.
Brain crystal rifle fire crackled, punctuated by the whistling of arrows and the eerie hum of unleashed powers.
Balls of fire whizzed past, leaving trails of smoke and singeing the edges of crumbling buildings.
Icy shards pierced the air, freezing puddles on impact and leaving a treacherous sheen on the broken pavement.
The very earth itself seemed to rise against the blackguards.
Rebels wielding earth-based powers tore open the ground, creating deep pits and fissures that swallowed unsuspecting soldiers.
Some used their powers to create makeshift barricades, while others manipulated the terrain to create vantage points for ranged fighters and ambushes.
The Blackguards found themselves slowed, while rebels zipped around with unnatural speed, dodging attacks and launching surprise strikes.
Some fighters used power that made their muscles bulging with unnatural strength as they tore through the ranks of their enemies. Most of those dying were Volkov's men.
The rebels' wreaked havoc on Volkov's forces, throwing them into disarray. However, the blackguards proved more resilient.
They adapted quickly to counter the rebels' attacks, and their superior training allowed them to exploit any openings.
"Formation Delta!" Shatterfist said. Erik snapped to attention beside his comrades, Brute Ape and Missing Air.
His mana surged, coalescing into a shimmering blade that extended from his right hand.
With a flick of his wrist, he deflected a bolt of energy that sizzled past his ear.
"Watch your left, Brute Ape!" he said, just as a rebel wielding earth magic attempted to ensnare the hulking man in a tangle of earth tendrils.
Brute Ape roared, his transformation into a hulking gorilla already underway.
His massive arms ripped through the stone, scattering dirt and debris as he charged towards the rebel.
His fist, now the size of a boulder, connected with a sickening crunch, sending the unfortunate rebel flying.
Missing Air flitted around the edges of the battle, her form flickering in and out of existence.
She harried the enemy, sending gusts of wind to disrupt their aim and suffocate them.
A well-placed gust sent a rebel tumbling from his perch atop a building.
"Shatterfist, incoming!" Erik spotted a trio of rebels closing in on their leader.
Shatterfist grinned. "Let them come!"
As the rebels lunged, Shatterfist unleashed a devastating shockwave as he punched, sending them sprawling across the shattered pavement.
One of the rebels staggered to her feet. She launched a volley of fireballs towards Shatterfist, but he simply shrugged them off.
"You're going to have to do better than that, little girl!" he said, advancing towards her.
"Leave her to me," Erik said, intercepting the fiery redhead. He parried her attacks with his mana blade.
"You're fast," the redhead acknowledged. "But can you keep up with this?"
Her body ignited, flames dancing across her skin as she charged towards Erik.
He raised his mana blade. The heat was intense, but Erik held his ground, his eyes locked on the fiery figure before him.
"Impressive," he said. "But fire alone won't be enough to stop me."
He lunged forward, his mana blade flashing in the fading sunlight.
He realized this woman was most likely a Red Palace member.
The redhead met his attack with a fiery blast, but Erik's speed and agility allowed him to evade the worst of it.
In a blindingly fast exchange, Erik's blade found its mark, severing the redhead's arm at the
elbow.
The flames that had engulfed her body flickered and died, revealing a look of shock and pain on her face.
She stumbled back, clutching her wounded arm, as Erik lowered his blade, his expression grim.
But despite Erik winning, the situation wasn't turning out well for Volkov and the blackguards. Most of New Alexandria's soldiers had been killed by the rebels' trap.
The plaza resembled a slaughterhouse. The bodies of Volkov's soldiers lay scattered amongst the debris and craters.
Some were riddled with bullet holes; others bore the gruesome marks of elemental attacks- charred flesh, frozen limbs, or bodies twisted into unnatural shapes.
The cries of the wounded still echoed through the plaza. The rebels, emboldened by their success, pressed their advantage, picking off the remaining soldiers with ruthless efficiency. Their eyes gleamed with a feral light. Van Dyke and Fischer's strategy worked. "Retreat!" A voice from their communication device said. Only the blackguards remained, and they couldn't face so many rebels despite their prowess. Besides, some blackguards died
during the attack.
But a ghost of a smile played on Erik's lips. The command was music to his ears.
Though he played the part of a loyal blackguard, he was still part of the rebels. Every fallen soldier in uniform was a minor victory, but a victory nonetheless.
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