Visola raised her arm, signaling the troops forward. Once the infantry was heading steadily toward their attackers in the formation she had recommended, Visola broke away from their numbers. She headed directly for Aazuria to aid her in the hand-to-hand combat. Koraline had pulled a sword from her side and was expertly hacking and stabbing at Aazuria who was deftly dodging strikes and trying to deliver her own.
Many of Koraline’s elite fighters did the same, rushing to join the fight and protect their leader. Visola quickly intercepted them, using her rifle to riddle them full of bullets. Once they were dealt with, floating motionlessly in the water, it seemed like no one else from the Clan of Zalcan was bold enough to approach the skirmish. She turned her attention back to Koraline. She saw that Aazuria was fighting with unusual tenacity and precision—she had not been prepared for the battle and she was not wearing armor, so she could not afford any mistakes.
Visola pointed her rifle at Koraline, aiming between the blonde woman’s eyes. She made tiny adjustments for the moving target, and positioned her finger over the trigger—but she did not shoot. Koraline was doubtlessly the younger and stronger of the two women, although she looked to be older. Her height and weight were both greater than the Aazuria’s, but she did not possess the speed and the experience. Aazuria had not been joking when she told Trevain that she was one of the fastest swimmers in the world; her whole fighting technique was based on speed. Visola knew that she should take advantage of this free moment to interfere before she had to focus on the main battle again, but she saw the wild look in Aazuria’s cobalt eyes. She instinctively knew that this was the kind of fight that she could not interrupt.
Aazuria was fighting like a woman possessed, and this chilled Visola. She knew that there must be some reason for the noblewoman’s unusually vicious strikes and the indomitable hardness of her expression. Visola feared that something had happened; she knew her princess too well to avoid assuming the worst. Visola accidentally gulped a mouthful of seawater. She could sense that something had happened to Elandria. She felt bile rise in her throat. Adjusting the rifle’s aim as the women spun around each other, she yearned for it to be her turn.
It was rather poetic to watch two ballet dancers fight—Visola could see the way that their art worked itself seamlessly into their swordplay in their powerful spins and kicks. Their posture was flawless. It was natural that the way one used their body the most would be the way they became accustomed to moving. Visola made a mental note that if they managed to survive this, she would take some dance lessons herself and see if it improved her fighting at all.
Not that my technique needs much improvement, Visola thought to herself smugly. She wondered how she had found time to be arrogant in the midst of such a chaotic battle. People were dying all around her, and she was entertaining conceited internal quips. But then, Visola always had time for arrogance. She was positive that even if she was seconds away from death, her final thoughts would be private declarations of superiority. She did not think that today was the day on which she would discover the precise nature of those thoughts.
Visola nearly squeezed the trigger to fire a large caliber bullet into Koraline’s brain when she saw that Aazuria was leaving the right side of her body open. Unfortunately, she was interrupted by an ambush of three warriors at once. She had lost the moment to interfere, and she could only grimace in the middle of her own battle as she saw Aazuria’s mistake. Koraline had managed to thrust her sword directly into Aazuria’s shoulder—the same shoulder, the very same spot where she had impaled Aazuria before. Visola could see glimpses of Aazuria recoiling and quickly switching her knife from her right hand to her left. There was an angry look on her face—Visola knew that Aazuria was conscious of her grave error. To get stabbed in the same spot twice was a surefire sign of a flaw in method. Aazuria had a gigantic blind-spot around her upper right side, and it would surely get her killed.
Having to focus on her own fights for several minutes, Visola missed most of the battle between Koraline and Aazuria while trying to protect her own skin. She swung her rifle onto her back and withdrew the heavy unicorn trident which hung from her waist. Underwater, this weapon was manageable, but on land it was almost impossible to wield. She swung the staff expertly, the way her father had trained her to do hundreds of years ago. Visola aimed at the softest, most vital parts of her attackers’ bodies, shoving the prongs between the strands of shark’s tooth necklaces and using her foot to press against their bodies and rip her weapon out. She gritted her teeth as she used the carcasses of the men she defeated as ladders, stepping on them for leverage in order to position herself better for the next fight.
While she was happy to embrace new technology, the old trident had sentimental value to her. The enemy soldiers were not wearing Kevlar, so it was easy to pierce their clothing. There were just too many of them. Even as she was swamped by the flood of soldiers around her, she did not fear for her own safety. She was Visola Ramaris, and she was born to fight. She was only half-focused on her own struggle, and completely focused on Aazuria. Every time she needed to look away from Aazuria’s battle for a second to deliver a killing blow, she felt fear that she would turn around and see her friend’s head severed. It was no secret that Aazuria was not a great warrior. She did not have as much of a zest for training as the Ramaris sisters—even the medically-inclined Sionna was a better fighter than the princess! Aazuria’s expertise was grounded more firmly in the political realm. Visola finally was able to fend off the bulk of her swarm of attackers and turned to swim toward the princess.
She saw Aazuria’s knife strike Koraline firmly in the throat, but the myriad strings of shark’s teeth around the blonde woman’s neck protected her from this blow. Surprise registered on her face, however, and Aazuria exploited this moment to ultimately subdue the woman. Aazuria plunged her knife into Koraline’s gut, and the woman doubled over, clutching her bleeding abdomen. She held her stomach in a vain attempt to stop her dark blood from spilling out into the water. Koraline’s mouth opened in dismay, and dark swirls of blood were emitted from her lips. This meant nothing; the enemy would not stop because their leader was down—she surely had a second, a third, and a fourth in command. That was the way the Clan of Zalcan worked.
“That’s my girl,” Visola signed proudly as she reached the scene, before taking some plastic handcuffs off her belt and using them to restrain Koraline.
Aazuria looked at her friend with panic still painted on her face. “Trevain is in danger! I need to go to his boat—can you spare some troops to come with me?”
Visola frowned, thinking of her grandson. “They massively surpass us in manpower. I can’t spare anyone or we risk losing. The benefit of the rifles is mostly gone since our soldiers are fighting at close range. Now it’s all down to pure skill, and I’ve got my reserves out there. They hardly have any training. We could lose Adlivun today.”
“Actually, sis,” signed Sionna with a smile, having just joined the fight, “look over there, and reconsider that.”
The three women looked in the direction that Sionna was pointing. The most welcome sight that Aazuria had ever seen in her life was quickly dethroned by this one. Hundreds of sea-warriors clad in red were diving off boats which were rapidly arriving on the scene. They all wore the kamon of the Ningyo clan, on their armor and helmets. The emblem of a pearl-white mitsudomoe was their symbol; three spirals connected at the center. The swirls in the symbol had always reminded Aazuria of waves, but like their very own triple-moon, the mitsudomoe had complex spiritual significance to the clan. The colors of red and white had never looked so magnificent to her.
The Japanese reinforcements had arrived, led by the eminent Queen Amabie. Naclana was at the side of the illustrious woman.
The enemy forces had been flanked.
Visola’s eyes began to shine with almost reptilian delight. “Well, that changes everything. The enemy is outnumbered and outmaneuvered.” She kicked the wounded Koraline aside and nodded to her sister. She quickly signed a few words before returning her hands to her assault rifle.
“Go save my grandson. As long as our enemies are still breathing, I have work to do. When you return you’ll find a necropolis, and I expect a bonus.” Visola’s green eyes were so predatory that they sent a chill through Aazuria. Even Sionna could not recognize the exuberant, battle-hungry animal that had been unleashed in her twin sister. “Go!” The red-haired warrior signed a few final, jubilant words before returning her capable hands to grip her assault rifle:
“There will be a fucking bloodbath of drowning mermaids tonight!”