The Princess was crying now. Great, heaving sobs that shook her small frame.
By the sixteenth, the outer wards had fallen. The Praetor’s war-golems—each one a three-ton statue of animated black iron—had smashed through the inner bailey. The Royal Guard had given ground, room by bloody room, until only the Spire’s apex remained. Royal Guards of Ethyria -Final- -Yukari-chan- F...
But Yukari-chan was bleeding.
The Praetor himself climbed the final stair. He was a giant in crimson plate, his helm shaped like a snarling lion. Behind him, two dozen war-golems. Behind them, the click and hum of a hundred arcane rifles. The Princess was crying now
“I know,” Yukari-chan said. Her voice was thin now, like paper held up to a flame. “But the Spire is safe. You’re safe.” The Praetor’s war-golems—each one a three-ton statue of
Yukari-chan did not dodge the Praetor’s first swing. She un-existed the space where the swing would land. The black glass cleaver passed through empty air that, a moment before, had contained her shoulder. Then she was inside his guard, Shirokage tracing a line up his breastplate.
“I’m the last one,” she said quietly. “The last of the White Shadow sect. We were never guards, you know. We were apologies . When a kingdom made a mistake so terrible it could not be undone, they sent one of us to stand in the way of the consequences.”