The world streams by.

Our landing has not gone as planned. I don't even need to finish falling to know as such, the manner in which we were struck so suddenly, thrown so suddenly from Leviathan's back.

It is no longer an ideal situation, but that doesn't change our task.

We're here to spill Valheimr blood, and that is what we are going to do.

The world streams by as I descend towards the deck of the enemy ship. I tuck my body in tightly, folding my limbs against myself. I can't afford to be injured on landing, after all.

I shut my eyes.

The shock rushes up through my limbs, reverberating through my frame as I feel myself hit the deck, throwing myself forward and rolling. As I open my eyes, I can see the figures in the air. My fingers reach back, my hand wrapping around the hilt of my blade---

Valheim's blood. It's in my reach.

I'll spill as much as I can.

---Ah?

As I stretch out my free hand, crouching low, my legs spreading wide as my body tenses, I can hear his words in my ears.

The younger of the two Edreni men, Sagramore-san.

They'll drop, will they?

My eyes immediately scan them. I'd be forced to try and use my kunai, and my fire materia, to bring them down. But if he can make them drop without me needing to do so---

He'll have earned some recognition, I suppose.

The purple light, and then---

He was right, was he?

The packs the fake dragoons use to try and serve as shadows of far more capable warriors are struggling as gravity's force exerts itself on them with doubled intensity. I don't have to have a deep understanding of technology to be aware of the fact that such equipment simply isn't made for this.

The first one is about to fall into reach, struggling and failing to ascend. Like a bird with its flight feathers cut.

My body tightens, my muscles tensing, my eyes fixing on the man's throat.

---Now!

I hurl myself across the deck of the ship, the world running together again as the only thing that remains a single, continuous, solid shape within it is the body of my target as he hits the deck.

I raise my arm and draw my blade through the air, through flesh.

A curtain of red descends behind me as he slams to the deck, unable to even clutch at his cut throat as the doubled force of gravity slams his choking, gurgling down onto the ship.

One.

I'll kill these false birds before they can take flight again---!