My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Chapter 571: Love In The Battlefield, Part

It was like a miracle shining from the bleakest dark.

The members of Charlie Platoon couldn’t believe their eyes, and at first, were at a complete loss over why their number on the scoreboard was slowly and steadily rising higher and higher.

They thought it was a fluke, a very, very, very lucky streak, or perhaps a glitch in the netcode... because yeah, that makes sense. But it eventually dawned on them that all hope was not yet lost, that there was still a fighting chance of claiming the win.

Soon, whispers and mutters began to take root across every inch of the battlefield of some kind of blitzing figure whizzing through hails of gunfire unscathed. A sort of phantom, a ghost... that no bullet could ever touch. And should you ever bear the misfortune of ever seeing him with your own eyes, then abandon all hope – for your flag is already long gone.

To Charlie Platoon, it was like they had a hero – a guardian angel descending from the heavens, here to bring them salvation and grant them a victory once believed all so unfathomable. To everyone else, it was like a devil had emerged from the scorched earth of their very own doing. A being of evil made flesh and blood off the sins and vices of the wicked man.

I’m not too sure about that part... but if desiring some sing-along tunes to the melody of an illustrious maiden’s voice is such a cardinal sin indeed, then, hell, gorilla glue some horns on my forehead and change my name to Lucifer, ’cause I’mma be doing some devilish deeds alright...

Against Alpha’s colorful trio, not even they could possibly hope to contend... and I took great satisfaction avenging all my fallen comrades from rounds prior.

.....

“You’re bulletproof!” Blue gaped at me, after sustaining a killing blow to the chest trying to exact a crafty ploy of misdirection in an attempt to take me out and failing miserably at that. “This doesn’t make sense! It should have worked!”

“Losin’ your touch, girl...” Green tutted, escorting herself and a still blubbering blue off the battlefield. “Think we’re better off taking our chances with the detective instead, next round.”

Red must have seen the writing on the wall, I felt a slight tug on my arm... and there she stood, eyes gazing meekly in a squinty stare, “You’ll... you’ll win the bet, won’t you? I really do not want to do double shifts.”

I took their flag from the pedestal. “That’s the idea.”

“The detective’s team hasn’t won in a while...” She went on. “You should know, the closer the match becomes, the more intense she gets...”

Her words were one thing, the look in her eyes was another.

“I think I can handle it,” I said, striding away confidently.

“I do hope so,” red muttered, shambling the other way, not as confidently. “She’s not very fond of losing...”

Indeed. Irene had grown extra feisty over time as her platoon’s score continued to stagnate.

When I hurried back to base with the flag and scored once more, I realized only right after that she had massacred my entire squad and was mere seconds from scoring had I not arrived when I did.

I can only imagine her reaction to hearing the buzzer sound another point to Charlie Platoon instead of hers.

Probably lucky I haven’t had an encounter with her since. I might not come off as well as last time.

See, as much of a dominant force I’ve become on this chessboard of war, I wasn’t exactly nigh-omnipotent either. This barrier I conjured around me can be quite... finicky at times.

I learned quickly enough that it wasn’t just enough to form a barrier and call it quits there. It’s actually an active process, one I had to invest every ounce of my focus to maintain its integrity. A single slip-up, distracted even once, or too many bullets at once, then there goes the divine protection I worked so hard to manifest.

And here I thought just replicating the feeling I felt dismantling Mom’s barrier back at home would be enough to get me by. I guess that’s the difference between knowing a concept and understanding a concept. I’m still a ways away from ever making the ultimate shield, but for a high-octane match of paintball, it should hopefully hold.

At the very least, for just one round more.

A tiebreaker. Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie squaring off head-to-head with four flags to each of their names.

This final round was shaping up to be a climactic end. No more base infiltrations. Our pedestals were emptied, leaving no need for playing defense. Just a single white flag planted in the middle of the map and nothing more.

Basically, a race, a final charge.

Only the better platoon would be able to strive above the rest of the competition, and take that flag home.

You could almost smell it in the air, almost see it, taste it, feel it – that intensity, that pressure sinking in. I’ve seen it happen before in online matches, the suffocating atmosphere of internet cafes. What transforms an ordinary match into the battle of a lifetime. Everybody has fought bravely, fiercely up to this point, but ultimately, only one could claim that victory.

No one dared to lose one, no one even considered the possibility anymore – falling ready in position, bracing for action – Charlie Platoon stood at the foremost of the front lines

Waiting.

Anticipating.

Wanting.

The buzzer sounded, and within a fraction of a second – pure chaos ensued. Complete and total anarchy. There was no strategy, no solid tactics, there was just only forward.

Ten meters in and the first casualty has struck – on my left loudly moaned the kid from earlier, pouting at the stray bullet that struck his help... almost as if he couldn’t believe the audacity, like who’d do that?

Charlie Platoon roared defiantly, breaking formation, mindlessly firing at anything that moves. Faster, hastier, with every ground covered, the more enemies we encountered.

I made a beeline for the middle, as always just bolting without care – through the thick of trees, jumping over deep trenches. They were seriously everywhere. If it weren’t for my shield, I’d already be dead a million times over.

It wasn’t long before I eventually came upon it... the pedestal in the center holding firm our victory within grasp. Except the flag wasn’t there. Someone had already taken it, someone faster, someone smarter... someone better.

“Oh, Irene...”

Soon enough the tides of battle began to evolve, from simple capture and retrieval to a search and destroy operation. A manhunt followed... quickly revealing the flag was actually in the hands of another member of Bravo and not Irene who was still nowhere to be seen.

A bloody clash then transpired with Alpha somehow making off with it, but a brave few souls from Charlie had swiped it from their grasp before the flag wound up back in the possession of Bravo again in a matter of minutes.

The flag was an outright death sentence. Like some cursed ancient Egyptian relic, pretty much dead within just seconds of exposure, lucky if you last even a full minute.

I knew better than to try my chances, being a hero now would just invite all sorts of distractions. Figured I’d bide my time, whittle down the opposing forces first before I do make a jump for it.

Thus, the war had reached another turning point – now it was a battle of pure attrition. Who could outlast who? Sadly, turns out Charlie Platoon did not have the mettle to see the engagement through to the end, and in a strange twist of fate, I ended up as the sole and lone survivor of a now non-existent platoon, rendered as mere dust and dirt under the soles of the other teams.

Made complete sense, actually. Alpha had the tactics, Bravo had the bloody terminator in their arsenal, meanwhile, Charlie had me. In hindsight, I’m amazed we even lasted this long.

I stayed in hiding, closely following the flag’s bloody trail throughout the battle from behind the scenes, and it wasn’t long though before the platoons were exhausted of their numbers as well. I didn’t know who was left, but I did know it wasn’t much – there wasn’t going to be a better opportunity, I had to act now or never.

A stray member of bravo was currently in custody, and I pursued, ambushed – took and after a long, arduous ordeal of desperation and survival, the flag was finally in my possession.

No hesitation – I ran.

My heartbeat battering in my eardrums, adrenaline pumping through my veins, through the thick of trees, the slippery slopes, and the steep mounds, I did not stop for a second. I did not care about anything else.

My mistake.

Too late did I notice the rustling in the trees, and hear the spurt of sprayed pellets. I got hit – bouncing off, and on impulse, I quickly dove into the nearest bit of cover.

She was waiting for me.

All this time – she was there, she was here, the last standing piece of opposition standing between me and homestretch. It’s like she anticipated this, like she just knew what I would do.

But of course, she knew... after all, that badge of hers was more than just for show.

“That barrier of yours,” I heard her say between bursts. “You tethered it to yourself? No catalyst to maintain its potency independently from you?”

“Uh...” A funny sinking feeling was bubbling in my gut. “Relevance?”

“So, that’s a yes, then,” Suddenly, the gunfire stopped, and faintly, closely, I heard a little sigh. “Still have so much to learn...”

That’s when it hit me, struck me like a jolt to the senses, a familiar sensation, a rising feeling, a single emotion stirring within me – pleasure. The air had become thick with the vile stench of lechery. I was seeing, feeling red – her red.

And just like, everything around me crumbled. My focus, my effort, once again, I was completely vulnerable.

I gasped, as the air reverted back to oxygen – pleasure turning to panic.

“Who’s the filthy cheater now?” I shouted again, desperately scouring about for an escape from my predicament.

“I’m only evening out the odds, the same as you,” Irene calmly said, her footsteps echoing my inevitable demise. “And now we’re officially on even grounds again.”

Even grounds, my ass. Like I even stand a chance in a firefight against her.

“You must really wanna win this, don’t you?” I said.

“A good guess, I’m impressed,” She responded, her tone falling flat. “You figured that one out yourself?”

“I’m just saying – I didn’t take you for the type to play dirty, is all.”

“I remembered when you didn’t take me for the type to be singing either. The more you know, right? Let’s not forget, you’re the one who asked for this. Childish, fiendish, selfish – well, here you are. The me you oh so love and cherish. Satisfied?”

Another barrage began nicking away the very edge of my cover, but despite being just a hair’s breadth away from death, I couldn’t help but form a smile.

“Very...”