They talked a lot for a bunch of people who didn't even know that they were fighting children without a single smidge of essence in their body, hm? Otis's eyes flickered towards the blood spilled, the way that those grievously injured by bullet or blade now rose up once more as puppets. He fired one bullet towards the closest brigand, watching as it bounced off from the Personal Barrier that manifested. Forced activation. Wouldn't last too long then. The chamber was broken open, more bullets slotted into them with mechanical efficiency. With essence, he could have drowned those men in a swamp. With Ethos, he could have summoned all manner of enchanted tools.

"Would be easier if you could just temporarily deactivate the rings," Otis said to Fianchetto. "But failing that..."

The Strigidae settled deeper into his shooting stance, one hand behind his back, other hand extended, both eyes wide open. Regular bullets could not puncture a Personal Barrier so easily, and he doubted that an unenhanced Iraleth would have much better luck without the boons of the Inheritor. As such, there was only one way to handle this.

Measure the distance between heartbeats, wait for moments of predictable trajectories, and aim to shatter weapons with gunfire.

Is that what they were doing? Chunji didn't precisely like the prospect of the request, but it would seem that there was little choice in the matter. It would've been easier if they had access to Essence, but it was a problem they would have to deal with. With a sigh, Chunji quickly approached Davil and adjusted his wheelchair before leaving the cart. "Well, we'll try our best," With a shrug, Chunji immediately hid in the chaos of the battlefield.

However, it was more challenging than expected. He wasn't a master of stealth, so naturally, some of the bandits head straight at him. Chunji wielded his poisoned scalpel in one hand and consecutively performed incisions on the bandits. The type of poison he applied was one he concocted himself during his training before his invitation to the academy. It was an amateurish cure that was based on eliminating the pathogens and all cells that were inflicted with the pathogens. Chunji had mixed some of his blood along with other remedial ingredients such as a lizard tail, rabbit fur, and some herbs that his mother grew.

It was amateurish and quickly discarded before Chunji decided to test it. The moment the scalpel melted through the bandit's Personal Barrier, it was clear that Chunji had made the right decision in not testing the poison on an innocent living being. The small incisions soon began to redden and blacken as they circulated through the bandit's body. It would seem that the Grand Lotus Serpent was entirely happy with the arrangement that one of its kin was no longer connected to it.

As his poisoned 'cure' and curse were completely independent of his body, Chunji would at least suspect that the ring wouldn't activate under these circumstances. He had no real control over what the Great Lotus Serpent's Curse did outside of his body.

Damn it! Iraleth grit her teeth and turned the blows of the risen bandits aside with more difficulty than she had previously, her retaliatory punch simply sliding off the Personal Barrier granted by the Ethos bearer reanimating these men. A disgusting Ethos, used by a repulsive, slaving bandit. It fit, of course. She just wished it wasn't quite so effective at creating abominations far removed from the light of Astra.

The half-elf redoubled her efforts, placing yet more force into each swing of her sword as she met the increased aggression from the fallen bandits with greater fervor of her own. Once more, her thoughts unknowingly ran parallel to Otis's: if she couldn't slay the bandits outright, she could at least target their weaponry.

A smashing strike from the flat of her blade split a club open. A second bandit had his dagger disarmed with a quick flick of the paladin's sword, the light blade kicked away into the distance. She outright ripped an axe out of the hands of its wielder, smashing it against a Personal Barrier over and over with such force that it was possible she might actually shatter it.

@ERode@AThousandCurses@Psyker Landshark

NORTHERN NERO ROAD

Weapons were shattered or blasted astray, and it wouldn't be long before the offense of the enhanced bandits was rendered toothless. While Chunji's scalpel was insufficient to penetrate the defenses of the bandits, the poison applied would eventually eat its way through and onto the flesh of those he struck. So, too, would barriers collapse on repeated hits in the same areas - whether from bullets fired, swords swung, punches delivered, or the diligent strikes of the security mannekin who were all too eager to advance on defenseless targets. It wouldn't be long before the once-fallen criminals fell once more, their bodies seeming to rapidly dehydrate as they spasmed on the ground.

With a click of his tongue, Ferg scoffed at his fallen comrades as he overlooked the area. "I suppose the standard to be met was higher than scavengers. Wastes of copper," he would muse as his sword once more unsheathed briefly with a flick of his thumb, extended slightly farther this time, and the trail of green mist lashed outward rapidly in all directions as if forming into semi-solid tendrils. They jabbed into the bodies of the bandits and pulled them backwards, violently tossing them all at the swordstaff wielder's feet. "Let us skip to the natural conclusion of this farce, then, and see what I can make of these E-tier materials."

Once more sheathing his sword as Kirn stood on guard with his axes in case of any surprise attacks or attempts at interruption, Ferg would slam the hooked pommel of the swordstaff onto the pile of dehydrated spasming flesh before him. In a flash of green light, emerging from the pile in front of him would be a mass of the bandits' bodies, now skeletal, their arms and legs flailing about in a tower of remains. At the top of this skeletal tower was a dragon's skull, from which dark spores escaped and floated towards the carriages. The arms and legs of the skeletons, meanwhile, extended outwards as if elastic, and began to swat and swipe haphazardly in all directions. This included Kirn and Ferg, who deflected the strikes on their side with their weapons while doing their best not to harm their new 'ally'. The security mannekin, who stood on guard to defend the students, were not so lucky - and after a brief exchange, were slammed and shoved across the road and off the road by the extending and rubbery yet altogether durable arms striking out from the corpse tower.

Alto pushed forward to compensate for the lack of mannekin, doing his best to parry and deflect as many limbs as he could, looking across his students that were already on the field with him. He said nothing, but made a motion with his eyes as if to indicate that now would be the time to aim for the duo. Rio wasted no time in attempting to make a break for the bigger one, though in a moment that would surprise very few, unarmed combat without the enhancement of essence proved to be a terrible method of blocking the swipes of freakish monsters, and the boy was sent tumbling backwards after a few successful - if painful - blocks.

From within the boys' carriage, Fianchetto finally flipped to a page that loosened his shoulders in relief. "Found it. For this to work, I will require both of those bandits out there to be occupied for at least... six seconds, perhaps, would do. If that can be managed, this should work!"

The mage would begin to mutter incantations under his breath, the chosen page of his grimoire running alight with magical energy.

Gross and artless. It wasn't even a mobile chimera, but rather just a tower of whipping limbs flaying about like a dead frog's twitching legs. The limbs themselves weren't even exceptionally fast by the standard of whips, their sheer mass making them closer to the vine strikes of a mandrake than the proper subsonic snap of a bullwhip. Indeed, so long as Otis remained inside the carriage and others were willing to play with the skeletal mass, he would be fine. Chunji and Iraleth were still hanging in there, and he estimated that Alto was handling about 70% of the limbs by himself. If Rio hadn't rushed in, the efforts of three combined could perhaps allow one to slip past and strike at the necromancer himself.

Which was a failed proposition. Two-on-one against enemies that likely both had Ethos, while one didn't even have essence in response would lead to a quick death.

Troublesome. He didn't even have the capacity with him now to analyze the black spores drifting out from the draconic skull at the top of the tower. Couldn't risk it then. The Strigidae lifted his inner shirt upwards, a makeshift mask, before sitting down on one knee to get a better angle on his target. Sight the target, read the flow of the limbs, calculate the travel time, time the heartbeats, make sure not to get too myopic, and...

A bullet cracked out from Otis's firearm, aimed at blasting the skull off the tower.

A mass of bones and flesh. If he had access to his essence right now, this gory arts and crafts project would've been reduced to fertilizer in the blink of an eye. With Rio bouncing away like a ball and Otis shooting at budget Foreteller, it was left for Iraleth and himself to deal with the menacies.

Well maybe only Iraleth. She had the necessary bulk to deal with the onslaught of limbs, but it was obvious that they couldn't defeat it outright. Alto took the brunt of the attack and he was more capable combatant than Iraleth. Following that logic, Chunji couldn't do anything against budget Foreteller either. He could help Alto and Iraleth stall it, but that would only delay the inevitable.

Instead, he might as well take his shots, literally. Pulling out a face mask from his bag, Chunji's eyes narrowed at the perpetrators. He had only one real shot at this. Retrieving the deadly vial from his bag, he eyed the concoction before simulating his plan in his head. The first step was simple.

First get into position. Backing away from the fight and get in range for the plan. Chunji took cautious measures to avoid budget Foreteller to ensure he wasn't in the way. Then came step two.

His left hand was filled with scalpels. No doubt the duo saw him move away from position and saw what he did with the soldiers. "Heads up!" Chuji threw an assortment of scalpels directly at the duo. They would be inclined to parry the projectiles with their blades, but none of them were poison. The real attack was the vial he threw directly afterwards.

Bodies, blood, and bones were the most nutrious for the land. They revitalized the earth as they were broken down into components for life to thrive on. It was no different with the Great Lotus Serpent, whose power allowed the process to happen instanteously. Though what would it mean for the cultivator that had its nature inverted by the very humans it sought to nuture?

As soon as the vial broke, a noxious fume blew up in front of the duo. The scent of death preserved yet rotting for over years wafted around the area. The variety of plants, animal parts that Chunji had added in were no doubt a component that was mixed in his blood. Whether it was still perpetuated remained to be seen.

Iraleth could regard the abomination that writhed before the Compact with nothing but sheer disgust and revulsion, her grip on her sword tightening. Essence, or Ethos? Not all Ethos were as the Inheritor, of course. But this was...well, it at least reflected the monstrosity of its wielder.

The paladin caught Alto's eye, nodding in return. She knew what he intended, of course. Though she silently disagreed. Against two Ethos wielders, they would have been better served sending Alto to intercept them while the Essence-less students distracted the horror. More risky for them? Unlikely. Bereft of any Essence as she was, Iraleth estimated her chances to be far better against the skeletal melange than against two thinking foes capable of wielding Ethos. Nonetheless, she set forward, taking the time to kneel down and help Rio up to his feet.

"Are you all right? We aren't in a position where we can charge off on our own. Follow my lead." Iraleth took her sword up and charged, batting skeletal limbs aside with her blade and gauntlets where she could, and outright bullrushing through the ones she couldn't with sheer bullheaded tenacity.

"Professor, switch!" Was all she managed to get out between breaths as she frantically parried and evaded as best she could, with Rio hopefully covering where she couldn't. "We can't pierce Personal Barriers as we are! Only you can!"

@ERode@AThousandCurses@Psyker Landshark

NORTHERN NERO ROAD

"...Gotcha," was all Rio would respond with, eyes locked on the duo as he returned to his feet. Rio would dash forward alongside Iraleth, punching and kicking at the limbs that would eventually overwhelm the paladin were they to all focus on her alone. His movements were sluggish and clumsy, perhaps from fatigue - though certainly not as precise or confident as his strikes from prior days. Nevertheless, it was enough to repel skeletal swings at the cost of bruising and cutting his limbs as he did so. This wasn't a time to be concerned about superficial injuries, however.

As they advanced, the assault Chunji had begun was also in motion. Ferg took a half-step forward upon witnessing the storm of scalpels, and with his swordstaff sheathed but now held in both hands, parried them away in an instant as they clattered to the ground around him with a trail of green mist following the easterner's swings; his and Kirn's Personal Barriers swirling about them to deflect any strays to make it through. A scoff escaped Ferg as he returned his gaze towards closer combatants. "Rudimentary."

That was until he heard a brief, "Shit," escape from Kirn's lips as the attempted to kick away the vial that smashed at their feet, but it was already too late. Kirn's exposed leg would seem to rapidly dehydrate and distort, as he visibly shouted, "What did you do to me?! WHAT IS THIS?" He would fall to one knee as his Personal Barrier began to coat his entire body, seeming to stop the effects from spreading - and yet, the damage to his left leg was already done as he knelt there growling. Ferg appeared untouched, maintaining a potent barrier against the effects, the fumes seeming to disperse outwards upon making contact with the swirling protective winds coating him. He looked down at his partner in crime with disdain, running a hand along the dragon head pommel of his swordstaff. "There is more to you than such idiocy, is there not? Allow not the power advantage to cloud your judgment."

Just as Ferg had finished musing such things, a crack rang out that widened his eyes. In one blink, his construct had been fine, and in the next, the skull mounted atop its peak tumbled to the ground with a hole clean through its center. His gaze turned towards the location that the bullet had been fired from, as if realizing that perhaps the real danger lay at the back of this crowd of opponents rather than in front. He grit his teeth as he once more began to unsheathe his swordstaff, the mist wandering towards the skull as if to reattach it; yet as that transpired...

"Professor, switch!"

And it was as if the man's world had crashed down for a moment. The skeletal abomination had grown even less accurate after the damage to its 'head', and the fumes from Chunji's concoction had dissipated enough that it had formed a path, and that path was clear as Alto dashed ahead to finally close the gap. There was murder in his eyes, and Kirn was still recovering from his decaying leg of seconds prior; Ferg was all alone for that second, as even though the brute moved to intercept, he was much too slow in the heat of the moment.

It was a decisive interaction, a dance in three steps. Ferg, in an essence-enhanced movement of desperation, crouched low and fully unsheathed his blade which trailed with an acidic coating, bringing it high just in time to meet the downward swing of the professor's longsword.

Chk.

Repositioning his sword, Alto skid the flat of his blade along his opponent's, before breaking the clash and stabbing towards the man's torso, which Ferg answered with a parry to the side.

Chk.

Not to be discouraged, Alto stepped to avoid a counter-slash, aimed for another swing high, and then when Ferg raised his weapon to once more block, the professor pivoted once more towards Ferg's flank with a feint - aiming dead for the villain's neck with full force. The bandit's eyes grew wide as if his life were flashing before his eyes. A vibration rang out as Alto's sword swiftly moved for the killing blow, a flash of emerald, and then...

SNAP.

In the blink of an eye, the final trade of blows had ended. Alto's sword had pierced through the barrier by the man's head, and... his longsword's blade lay in two pieces - one half partially embedded in Ferg's shoulder drawing forth a trickle of blood, and the other on the ground, broken off from the impact of mundane steel against a refined wall of essence. The bandit's own sword was at a diagonal downward, fresh blood dripping off the tip that seemed to steam and burn away with the acid coating. An open slash caused blood to flow freely from Alto's chest, with the edges of the wound seeming to fester with the substance that dwelled upon Ferg's swordstaff. It was fast enough that even Alto was still piecing together what had just happened, stumbling a step backwards with his half-broken sword. "What did you do...? That wasn't you..." Alto would trail off in confusion, grasping at his wound with one hand and raising up what now amounted to a dagger in his other.

But there would be no answer. Ferg readied his blade once more with a smirk and a restored Personal Barrier, and Kirn limped to his feet - one leg now looking as if it were crushed by a boulder - and readied his axes towards the remainder of the frontliners with renewed rage.

From inside of the boys' carriage, Fianchetto would grumble to himself and look at Otis, as only mere seconds had passed in all that time; yet not enough seconds for the spell to have finished. "Just a little longer, I'm afraid... one more good push, yes, just one more!"

Kann, meanwhile, would continue cowering beneath the benches, muttering, "We're cooked," this or, "Should've taken the Strigari internship," that. Davil, for his part, could only listen in frustration from his wheelchair, spectating. The spores that the dragon skull had emitted from before its end had seemed to begin entering the carriages now.

Blood splattered and it wasn't the mage's. Chunji could almost feel a curse leave his lips as Alto started to slump before the mage with the remains of his longsword held in his hand. Whatever happened, it was clear that Alto was at an advantage. Without essence, an unbroken blade, and now bleeding, the chances of victory seemed minuscule for the Professor.

Chunji's eyes flitted over towards the horned man as he began charging towards the frontline. If he joined the fight, Iraleth and Rio would be crushed under his strength. They were already struggling with the discount foreteller; if the brute were to join, then their defenses would crumble. It left Chunji with little more than desperation.

Help Iraleth and Rio? There was little that could be done. He'd had an idea on how to deal with the flesh pile, but it was a massive gamble that Chunji wasn't sure he could commit to. Additionally, the brute could easily crush him. A rough cough reminded Chunji on what was currently happening inside his body.

Help Alto? Chunji couldn't expend any essence due to the ring, and his sword would fall the same fate as Alto's longsword. If anything, he might get in the way of Alto finding a way to defeat the mage.

Yet, both options ended with the same solution that Chunji had come up with. Gulping, Chunji drew his sword and slit the palm of his hand against it. If he had access to his essence, he'd like to spend it to bond his blood to his blade, but that wasn't possible. His cursed blood stained his family's ceremonial sword. The patterns become embellished under the blood of its wielder. His blood, almost alive, slowly encroached up the hilt to touch his hand. A faint hiss could be heard in the dark recesses of Chunji's mind as he took a deep breath. He had to help the Professor.

He needed to have faith in his classmates. Although there was no camaraderie, they proved to be capable time and time again. He needed to trust them in order to play his part. Chunji's eyes narrowed at the mage's direction.

There was a chance he could pierce the mage's personal barrier with his bloodied sword, but what would happen if the result happened again? He'd just be stuck like Alto. That meant he had to target somewhere different. He'd take a page out of Otis and Iraleth's book.

Doing his best, he ran up and intercepted an attack from the mage. His sword clashed against the man's sword-staff. "I'm afraid that the Professor's is off limits," Chunji chided as he pushed back against the man's staff. The plan was clear: he was going to curse the man's staff with his blood. For every contact made with his sword, bits of his fresh blood would begin to taint the mage's weapon. Vine-like plants would entangle and sap the essence of the weapon and the wielder if they continued to hold it.

Though it was clear that Chunji wasn't in top condition. The withdrawal of essence was soon kicking in, and it was suffocating to fight under. A grievous hit would be inevitable, but if that were the case, it would be another opportunity. Chunji turned his body to protect his vitals as his foe landed a hit on him. There wasn't even a wince, but a cold acceptance of what was to come next. "Get a load of this," Chunji stumbled and whipped his body around. Blood was splattered all over the man as the separated, animated blood was surging toward the mage.

Back and forth the scales swung, always tilting in one direction or the other, but the tilt now...

The dragon's contagion leaked in through the holes that Otis had made in the carriage's window. Alto, their best chance to actually fell these Ethos-wielding bandits, was thwarted nonetheless, a grievous injury inflicted in a split-second exchange. Could Iraleth, Chunji, and Rio hold them off long enough?

Probably not.

Ok.

"Kann, get Davil out. Fianchetto, you leave as well. Michael, wake up and follow them. Or stay behind, if you're still confident." Otis holstered his firearm and retrieved his sewing equipment, slotting the unfinished embroidery into various pouches around his belt. Popping out of the door soon after, the Strigidae swung right on over to the seat once occupied by the driver-mannekins, brushing aside the wooden debris that littered the area. Throughout all this chaos, the horses remained untouched, unharmed, unbothered, no doubt under a similar sort of brain-altering spell that he had once applied upon his own Adapa. It made them entirely obedient and wholly fearless; it also meant that they were easy to control, even for someone whose encounters with horses could be counted with only his fingers. At least, that was what Otis decided would be the case.

The student seized the reins, having given the occupants of the carriage only a few seconds to vacate before he put his plan into action. With a wild cry, the horses entered into a trot before speeding up into a gallop, heading straight for the headless tower. Otis grit his teeth together, a free hand slapping his goggles down over his eyes as his mind burned with calculations. Calculations on inertia and momentum, on angles of approach and the construction of the skeletal tower, on how much maneuverability the carriage actually had. Too much of it was a gamble, too much of it reliant on quick calculations dependent on too much rounding. There was a wriggling thought in the back of his mind, about how much easier this entire thing would have been if they weren't forced to wear that essence-nullifying ring. If Alto, at least, hadn't been forced to wear that ring.

Oh well.

The horses frothed at the mouth from the physical exertion as they stampeded faster and faster towards the skeletal tower. Its warding blows had been weakened, and what could cause men to falter would be light work for a burdenbeast to withstand anyways; the vehicle powered on over perilous terrain, Otis almost flying off his seat with every bump and hole in the earth. And, at the last moment, Otis drew out his firearm once more, pulling both reins with one hand to the side while aiming the barrel at the carriage shaft.

The horses turned. The carriage followed.

A crack of the bullet sounded, accompanied by the splintering of wood as the structure could no longer bear the strain and snapped apart, sending the side of the carriage smashing right into the skeletal tower. If his calculations were correct, it would be enough force applied to the poorly-constructed 'undead' to send it falling down upon the bandits.

And Rio. And Iraleth. And Chunji. And Alto.

But Otis didn't have the time to think about them. He, after all, was far more airborne than he'd like to be, having been launched during the initial jackknifing of the blue carriage.

Iraleth could spare barely a moment to see how Professor Alto was faring, but that one moment was all she needed to know: lost the advantage, tricked in some way, and now grievously wounded. She grit her teeth as she drew her free hand back, slamming her fist into a skeletal limb that was trying to batter her.

"Damn it!" She yelled in frustration, still no closer to putting this undead tower down while another's Essence was empowering it without access to her own. Or rather, it was doable. There just wasn't enough time. Iraleth had been making no small amount of headway in trying to batter and smash the entire damned thing to dust, but not at any rate that would get this thing off of her long enough to assist the others. Her choice of weaponry wasn't helping, either. At this rate, her plated fists were doing a better job than her bastard sword. If only she'd brought a mace of some sorts. Or even a flail...

Regardless, she'd fight with what she had. Or she would, if a gunshot hadn't rang out across the battlefield. Iraleth's head shot up, following the point of impact. The moments before the carriage fell upon the skeletal tower passed in almost slow motion, her mind going a mile a minute. This would, at least, take care of one problem. And if the trajectory was right, at least slow the other one down. The only issue was friendly fire. Professor Alto would be fine, most likely. Chunji was too close to the bandits for Iraleth to risk shielding him and protecting them with the boy. That, and he was too far away. That just left Rio.

"Get down, NOW!" Iraleth threw her sword to the side as she dashed towards Rio, tackling her classmate so that her armored form was shielding him, head tucked in so that her armor was a more likely point of impact. A quick prayer started to come out of her mouth as the tower fell atop them, invoking Astra's grace so that hopefully this tactic would smite their enemies.

Telling, that she prayed for the death of their foes first before the safety of her own life or anyone else's.

@ERode@AThousandCurses@Psyker Landshark

NORTHERN NERO ROAD

Ferg frowned as he observed Chunji's intervention. Looking upon the vines that began to take in his sword's essence and the blood splattered upon him, a click of the tongue escaped him as he locked eyes with the boy. "I would have avoided that course of action, dabbling in things you know nothing of so wholeheartedly," he would spit. The vines latched onto the sword would pulse rhythmically as if they were beating hearts, and the shimmer of green cloaking the blade would pulse in time with them. "On common rabble, it would have worked, though."

As if on cue, the vines would rot away and the blood would seem to boil away into steam, seemingly overloaded with essence, or otherwise exposed to something unfathomably vile beyond the scope of conventional sapping. A brief glint of green passed across Ferg's eyes, his pupils turning emerald for a split second - and with a smile, he stepped in and began to bring his sword down towards Chunji. Alto stepped forward to intercept, but it was clear he wouldn't be fast enough before Ferg's assault would begin; the bandit was intending on going for the kill.

It was then that he gazed towards his peripheral upon hearing the intense beating of hooves and, more importantly, the crack of gunfire. For the first time, the man's eyes widened, mouth agape with a head-on assault-by-wagon speeding forward. There was no time, and self-preservation kicked in - Ferg stepped backwards and quickly sheathed his sword as the wagon hit its mark. "Holy fu-"

CRASH.

The skeletal menace caved under the impact, falling downwards in the direction of the melee as jagged bits of sharpened bone also descended as rain onto the battlefield. The seconds to follow were absolute chaos - Alto had tackled Chunji out of the way the best he could, Rio was tackled for cover by Iraleth, and all but Michael had evacuated the blue carriage; who was now soaring through the air alongside Otis, screaming and cussing in terror as if this had been enough to finally waken him.

Dust had kicked up into a cloud over the area, obscuring it for the next half-minute as people scrambled and damage was assessed. At the end of this time, as the dust settled and the surrounding area had become visible once more, Ferg and Kirn could be seen further away from the impact zone on the other side, idling inside a circle pattern drawn in the dirt. Ferg was on one knee, one hand in the middle of the circle and one firmly gripping his sheathed swordstaff. He appeared to have scratches across his face, arms and clothes, but was otherwise stable. Kirn, in contrast, had a bone spear impaled through his working leg, a skull buried partially in his gut, and his left arm bent at an angle not meant for living things - clearly in such pain that he had lost the ability to even scream out, in a state of pain-induced shock as he idled there on his knees. Each had a Personal Barrier raised, though Kirn's flickered off and on like a dying lightbulb.

"An unfortunate turn. Perhaps more drastic measures should be taken for next time. And better help," he would scoff as his palm pressed firmly upon the center of the dirt circle. All at once the pattern would seem to spark, and a second later, the two within were gone. All that was left was the sobering silence of damage assessment and regrouping after a life-threatening battle.

Chunji's smile lessened as he realized all the blood he spilt was essentially all for nothing. Well, Chunji was all out of tricks. He hoped his cursed blood would do anything like this man into a bouquet. Pride told him that the ring interfered with the curse, but it could be that the bandit was much stronger than he was. Couldn't say he didn't try, however. "Whatever you say, cousin." The fight was over. Chunji had taken substantial damage, and the man was undoubtedly more experienced than he was in combat. Chunji's eyes narrowed at the flicker of the man's eyes. Raising his blade, Chunji was ready to clash one more time until the world took the breath out of him.

Something, to which Chunji realized it was the Alto, tumbled to the ground. A massive explosion and then a hail of broken bones fell upon them. Immediately, Chunji wrapped his arms around the Alto. He attempted to cover most of Alto's vital parts and avoid significant damage. The Alto wasn't as armored as Iraleth, which meant he was more susceptible to the debris. Chunji winced as he felt his arms being pierced by the sharp fragments. He could only pray that none of them had hit an artery.

"That... wasn't pleasant," Chunji groaned. Withholding a cough, he tiredly removed his numb arms from the Alto. "Professor, if you would. Please remove yourself from me. The last thing we need is for you to be cursed by my blood." And to avoid the blood that Chunji was about to cough up. The student's head tilted to look at the condition of his arms. They didn't look too good. Even that might be an understatement of the year.

"Oh, when I get my hands on Ciara. I'm going to give her a live surgery without any anesthetics." Hopefully, Kann could at least somewhat fix his arms and the many injuries he had accumulated over the fight. Chunji could already see the journey his arms were going to go through. It wasn't going to be completely cumbersome.

He was flying. Then falling. Then tumbling. Tuck in your chin, break your fall with your arms rather than your head, and curl into a ball. Air was pummeled out of his lungs, but Otis held his firearm close still as he smashed into the earth, rolling two, three, four meters away before he forced himself up. His head hurt, his vision spun, and yet, he still pointed his gun out towards the distance, recognizing the shapes of the two bandits that remained. They hadn't gotten out of it unharmed. This was the only chance to definitively end this threat!

Hammer struck crystal, the remaining bullets emptying out of its chamber, firing towards the men at supersonic speeds.

Tufts of dirt exploded around them to little effect, every single shot missed, before they disappeared into the aether.

The Strigidae let out a low sign. No magic bullets meant no homing bullets, so that was his bad. Or perhaps he should have prepared a helmet, so his head wouldn't have been knocked about so much by the gambit. Or perhaps they should've sought to escape to begin with, rather than engaging so fully in such a disadvantageous situation. What would it have been like, if it was any of their Ethos pitted against a couple of physically skilled, but entirely essence-less individuals? It'd have been a massacre. Incomprehensible trump cards that they were, it'd have been far too easy to end this.

He coughed, then walked back to the others, circumventing the wreckage of carriage and bone to turn towards Alto. "It'd be expedient, I believe, to return to Wingram and cancel this trip. Injured as we are, and having not resolved the root of this problem, any further travel would be similarly doomed. Especially now that we are one carriage short, and most of us are injured."

Amber eyes flickered over to Fianchetto.

"Also, what was the spell you were going to cast? I have my own hypotheses about it, but without any ability to see essence right now, all that I'd be making are baseless presumptions and wild guesses.

Protected as she was by her bulwark of plate, Iraleth wasn't as banged up as she could have been: no few bruises, but nothing that wouldn't heal. She stood, catching the last bit from the two bandits before they fled like cravens. Her lips pursed. Bastards. She slammed the tip of her sword into the dirt in frustration before turning back around to help Rio up.

"Are you well? Had we not been restricted by these rings, I would offer healing." The thought brought another frown to her face. "Of course, had we not been restricted by these rings, those brigands would have been rust upon our swords. Distressing."

Once Rio was confirmed well, she turned towards the others, affording Otis a brief nod.

"Good shot. You likely saved our lives with that stunt." She complimented, before considering his words. After a moment, Iraleth gave in with a sigh, nodding her assent. "I hate to turn tail and run, but he is correct. We ought to send for a church escort if we wish to make it to the city at this rate. The majority of our group is unable to fight effectively without Essence, and you are injured, Professor." A frown.

"I hadn't thought there to be such a coordinated and well-planned group of brigands in these parts. The local patrols have been remiss in their duties.

@ERode@AThousandCurses@Psyker Landshark

NORTHERN NERO ROAD

Alto stood up and dusted himself off, assessing himself after Chunji’s warning. Realizing that he was absolutely coated in blood, to the point that finding out whose was whose would be a fool’s errand, he shrugged weakly towards the boy. “Guess I’ll roll the dice until a professional analysis. Kann might be putting more work in than expected.” He began to turn, looking both ways down the road to ensure that no other bandits or low-lives remained as reinforcements.

As if on cue, Rio would stumble to his feet with Iraleth’s assistance, and silent gratitude lingered in his eyes towards the paladin. “Would’ve won if we could’ve done anything,” he would mutter. “Cowards.” Kicking a pebble, he gave Iraleth a nod and then stumbled his way towards the center of the road where the skeletal tower once stood - now a pile of scraps that appeared to be rapidly crumbling into dust without its conjurer nearby to sustain it.

Fianchetto would hobble over towards the aftermath, looking at Otis. There was weary recognition in the old man’s eyes, and with a nod, he stored away his spellbook. “It was a banishing spell. A fight with those brigands would have been long and drawn out, but a banish would have whisked them away to unknown lands; long enough to be rid of them, at least. In times like these, I would have considered that victory enough.”

After regrouping and ensuring everyone’s wellbeing, Kann would make the rounds, casting healing spells and bandaging the injured - nearly throwing up when moving over to Alto. Despite his best efforts, however, Kann found himself unable to repair the most severe and painful injuries of those present, leaving the hardest hits as pain to hold onto until they could find rest or a proper clinic. It was in the midst of this healing that Alto, knelt against the still intact carriage in the middle of the road, would say his piece. “...While unfortunate, it's the same thing I was thinking," he would exhale, releasing some of the pain with a labored breath before continuing. "Don't know why they wanted to make this ambush happen so badly, but this goes beyond lax patrols. That man with the green blade was... definitely above the paygrade of average bandits, at least. Well-equipped and well-trained, with a clear goal in mind."

The professor, slowly rising to his feet, would turn towards the elderly wizard with a small bow. "Apologies, sir, but it's best we allow the church to come to us at Wingram on this matter. It would be reckless of us to press on as we are now."

Fianchetto, in response, would wave his hand and begin limping his way towards the intact carriage. "Life happens, and it happens fast. I have seen the Neroites and their ways myriad times, but Wingram and its abundance of Ethos is a new anomaly indeed. It would be for the best that we retreat with haste, while fear and fatigue remain in the hearts of our enemies."

Chloe would pop her head out of the carriage just in time for Fianchetto to pass her by inside, before looking around. "Everyone is, er... unharmed, yes?" She would scan the road to see the state of everyone, eyes awash with uncertainty and shame. "Everything's peachy-keen, it sounds like," Michael would promptly reply from further down the road, stumbling to his feet for the first time since the crash. As if brushing off a hangover, he stumbled his way towards the carriage without bothering to dust himself off or assess himself for damage. Alto would also begin maneuvering Davil into the carriage, while Kann waited by the door to the carriage for one final quick scan of the students for any unnoticed injuries.

"If you start growing lilies from your body, I'm sure Dr. Kann will know what to do." Chunji jumped up from his position. He didn't have arms to support himself off the ground, so he had to resort to this method. Now with two limp pieces of meat, he had to go see Dr. Kann. "Here," He limply offered his arms for Dr Kann to treat.

"Well, at least we still have one carriage left," Chunji hummed. He didn't know how many people could fit into one, but he didn't mind walking. He'd be a liability if he did, but it was good to exercise his legs. "How far are we from the academy? All that fighting distorted my sense of time." That was one of the downsides of being in a life-or-death situation, after all. That and not having a timepiece on hand.

It would take some time for them to plan, so Chunji took his time to walk back and grab his sword. It was a little painful with his recently treated arms, but it wasn't that bad.

That man with the strange blade got on Chunji's nerves, admittedly, but water under the bridge. If there was an opportunity for a rematch, hopefully, it was when he didn't have his essence restricted. How did they know they were on the road, anyway? Well prepared and 'so happened to be there' didn't exactly match well. Maybe it was simply bad luck.

"I know." Was all Iraleth said in response to Rio's mutterings, nodding in agreement. She let him go off, moving back towards Professor Alto and Chunji.

At least it seemed they were all in agreement that continuing to move forward was untenable. As poorly as the idea of retreat sat with her, it was undeniable that moving forward on the road was suicide should they be assailed again.

She waved Kann off before any healing could be cast, wanting him to save his efforts for those more injured. With that in mind, Iraleth made her way back over towards the one carriage left, her gaze passing over Chloe without much in the way of emotion. After all, she wasn't going to condemn someone that couldn't fight without Ethos for not fighting. Perhaps this incident might galvanize Chloe and the others like her to learn in the future, but there was no use crying over spilled milk.

"We're fine, outside of the Professor." Iraleth responded to her kinswoman, finally sheathing her blade now that it seemed the danger was past. "Next time, we shall see how they fare when the lot of us aren't forcibly crippled." She stepped up to open the carriage door, waiting for Otis and Fiancetto to return before determining whether there would be enough room or if she would have to walk.

A forced transportation spell was a curious one. With his own Ethos, Otis hadn't studied that particular field of magic quite as much as perhaps he should have, but it was clear enough to the Strigidae that he had made the correct choice, deciding not to rely on Fianchetto's magic: the two bandit leaders possessed some form of teleportation themselves. Banishing them while they were relatively healthy would simply mean that they would return at a later time, still just about as healthy as they started.

Which wouldn't be an issue, Otis supposed, since Alto came to the swift conclusion that an expedient retreat was for the better.

Nodding to Iraleth, he stepped into the carriage, squeezing himself into a corner. Otis folded his arms, crossed his legs, and shrunk in for what was definitely going to be a crowded ride back...but, of course, such uncomfortable settings did little to prevent him from asking the first, and perhaps most important, question on his mind.

"So, who else knew about this trip?"

For the timing was simply too convenient. Two carriages full of young Ethos users who had their essence-manipulating capabilities sealed, attacked by uncommonly skilled bandits not even a day away from Wingram Academy? A situation like this wasn't misfortune. It was conspiracy.