"Foolish Heathens..." Wester laughed quietly as his men stopped short of the caravan to throw torches on it. At the lead, the drivers had jumped on their horses and fled as planned, and the multiple wagons were quick to take to the flame.
Sadly, though not unexpectedly, the Dynio heathens quickly realized the trap and made their escape using the Way of Freedom and Flight, Air. Curse them and their heresy! The Great Source had given them such a gift only to use it to defy Him!
"Plan B?" a soldier by the name of Hector asked from Wester's side. He was a small man, wasn't he?
Wester nodded. "Yes, Mr. Hector. Take the Second Crusader Division and show those heathens flanking us what we can do." Wester removed one of his bladed shields from his back and drew his pistol. "First Crusader Division will be with me."
Hector relayed the orders, running to gather his men. It would be taken care of with that one on the job. Blessed by the Way of Adaptability and Travel, Water, Hecter was an excellent leader of the people, only bested by a handful of Drakos-El. Garland would assist him as well.
An explosion racked through the trees, only making Wester curse. The explosives in the caravans were too late. The Heathens were far from it now and fighting Drakos-El assaulting them. But... It had made the heathens distracted for a moment, allowing Wester's men to gain ground. Not a total loss.
Wester dodged as a blade of air passed in front of him and sliced a nearby tree in half. He calmly looked toward his attacker, already knowing whom it was: Kane Dybel. The heathen smiled madly and shoved his free hand over his unruly hair, looking quite pleased.
"You miss once more, heathen," Wester snapped, pulling his pistol out and firing off his Way of Flame through the iron barrel. Kane dodged and sliced his massive blade downwards, sending another wave of Air, which Wester dodged once more. "Can you even try?"
Kane barked a laugh. "Can you!? You haven't managed to put a scratch on me either, you stuck up bastard!" The heathen flashed a grin to show off his filed teeth and charged.
A sigh escaped Wester as he moved to intercept, holstering his gun and pulling both bladed shields. Metal met metal and the two matched each other, making Wester's ears ring. He didn't like how well this man could fight. Just think, if such a heathen were to be turned towards the way of the Source, how much good he would do.
But, no. He was a heathen. One of the most devout of the Dynio fools, relentless in their heresy. They were a sickness that needed snuffing out. Their young needed to be taught the Ways and the rest converted or killed. The Source would only bring about Paradise when everyone followed it's holy Ways.
So, this heathen, Kane, must die.
Wester's mind closed off any further words the heretic might have said, his mind focusing on how he might win. Speed, strength, reflexes... the heathen had it all. Wester had something better, however, and that was mental superiority. It was his enlightenment.
The Dynio fool stuck hard with his blades, mad excitement shining in his eyes, but Wester retaliated. Shield met both blades and another attempted a slice to the heathen's gut. Kane dodged by shoving himself back, but was forced to dodge once more as the Way of Flames attempted to purge him. Wester fired his gun a few more times, his Way moving through the barrel with as much speed as he could muster, before trading it for his bladed shield and moving in.
Kane blocked Wester's onslaught when they met once more, but was forced to move back. The heathen was not to be taken lightly, however, as Wester felt a powerful shock pass over his weapons and armor, then wind start to slice at him. His enemy shouted something in a cocky voice, but Wester was not paying attention. No, his eyes were on something that had fallen to the ground.
A lock of golden hair. HIS hair.
Wester back away, staring at the lock. Never. Since he had started fighting he knew he was talented beyond normal measures, and when he starting fighting in the War against Dynio, he had made a vow to never be struck by their heathen blades. Now, the leader of those heathens had managed to hit him...
"...finally got you, huh?"
Wester glared at the heathen. "Do not speak, you filthy heretic!"
Kane laughed loudly. "Well, I managed to make you mad, you stuck up bastard. This is a good day! Though... How did you managed to stay up after being hit with my lightning?"
"Rubber makes the armor warm, heathen," Wester snapped. "Now, shall we-"
Wester glanced over to see a young man running toward him in white cloth. A messenger. "Stay back! I shall finish this heathen then hear your report."
Kane smiled. "Think you can finish me? That's funny."
"Sir," the messenger said, interrupting once more, "The Drakos-El clan grounds are being attacked! As I left they were assaulting the walls!"
"What!?" Wester glared at Kane. "Striking at our home!? You heathens know no bounds!"
"Shut your trap, stiff!" Kane shouted back, "You think we have so little honor that we would kill children! I'm after you and your men, not your stupid stuck up town!"
The battle raged on around them, making it hard for Wester to think things out. He had to help his home... If the main clan ground was taken out that would spell the end of the Drakos-El...
"You win this day, heathen." Wester turned to the messenger. "Find Mr. Hecter and Mr. Garland. Tell them we retreat to the clan grounds."
"Running away, coward!?" Kane shouted, readying magic in his blades. "I'll let your stuck up friends, but not you, ya bastard!"
Wester glanced at Kane, then passed him to another messenger from the heathen's clan grounds. "It looks as though you won't have a choice."