It was this force that had invaded her, and demanded more from her.
She suddenly understood. "This is Beam…" she said aloud. Rivera's face turned to her, disgusted by the mere sight of her. It was the look of a callus man looking at a sick animal.
The strength, the overwhelm, the demands, as mighty as any King. This was a magnitude of influence that the name Oliver Patrick did not do justice. This was a force that went by many names, and ought to have gone by many more.
She tried to stand, but she lacked the strength. This time, she did not fall. Lacking strength, she used someone else's. She dared to believe in the mighty, and the world rewarded her for it.
Rivera's eyes widened, as a blinding light filled his vision.
"Impossible…" he muttered. "Now… Now of all times!?"
Her wrists danced with a light more beautiful than any jewellery could ever be. Her eyes took on the softest purple flecks, for just a moment. Even the blood that poured from her wounds seemed to attempt to close, as that excess energy tried to seal her wounds, but came up short of its goal.
Nonetheless, she was standing. There was strength in her legs. Not just her strength – so too was the strength she was given, and the strength that she borrowed.
A name came to her now, and she knew it to be Claudia. A woman's influence, amidst the raging torrent of dark Command that was Beam. Stability, and strength, in Claudia's light and wrapped in Beam's cloak, Blackthorn supposed that she could do anything. Unbelievable energy overcame her.
"You're standing…" Judas said, the relief evident.
'He cannot see the light,' Blackthorn realized. There would have been more than relief on his face if he could. 'But he's touched by Beam all the same.'
For the first time, Blackthorn was able to give him a reply. "Our Captain demands results, Judas. We shall not let him down."
There was no delay – Judas understood in an instant. They spoke in a language beyond language. She'd stepped into a world previously closed to her. She was a soldier truly under Oliver Patrick's banner now, and she walked the halls of his castle with the likes of even Judas, who had endured hell alongside him before.
"Without question!" Judas said, strength overfilling his expression. "WITHOUT QUESTION!" He roared it this time. "COME, MEN! LET US SHOW THEM THE RESULTS OF OUR TRAINING!"
Those men responded to his shout, when they should have been overrun by exhaustion. His passion was their passion, as all of them were ignited by the hefty demands of Beam's Command.
"You…" Rivera said, glaring Blackthorn down. "You cannot defeat me. Mere chance cannot best skill. A sudden passing through the Second Boundary will not overturn all that I've built."
Blackthorn did not answer him with words. She dove at him, as quick as a flash with a leaping thrust. It punched straight through Rivera's arm before he even realized what was happened – his wounded arm, that was.
He immediately worked to regain his distance, his surprise lasting just a second, and his survival instincts overturning it. 'Of course, her speed would go up, given the sudden Blessing… but to this degree?'
Lasha did not want to stand still. There was so much energy in her that she couldn't control it. Claudia's light felt like the fires of hot coals. She danced on those coals, and in return, the Goddess forged her into a sharper blade.
'More!' Lasha asked of herself, in both her own voice, and in Oliver's. His demands were her demands. She reached further than she'd ever reached before.
She lunged in again. Her speed, that which Oliver had taught her, was made overwhelming. Rivera's sword moved to block the attack, but even tracking it, he could not trace it all the way. The sword sped through his side this time, the most delicate of thrusts, just enough to push through his armour, before she was out again, darting around, her feet under her.
"Tsch," Rivera tutted. The wounds would have stopped lesser men, but he did not grow alarmed by their presence. The battlefield had changed, and he would be the one to find stability again. He saw hesitation in Blackthorn's stance, and he seized on it.
When Rivera darted forward, Blackthorn took a step back. He smiled at that. To see a Blackthorn retreat – an amusing thing.
That smile quickly turned red, however.
All of a sudden, Blackthorn was right in front of Rivera, her sword piercing through his throat, and a look of coolness in her eyes. Rivera twitched, the pain hitting him after a half second, along with the shock.
"W…hat…" He spluttered. "So… gughgh… easily…?"
He slipped to the ground unable to hold himself upright. His sword fell harmlessly with him. Blackthorn towered over him, seeming a far taller woman than she had just a few moments before – and those lights from Claudia still hadn't faded, as if they were declaring that the woman could still progress further.
Blackthorn only gave herself an instant to breathe in a deep breath, entirely unaware that the same counterattack that she'd used on Rivera was the same one that Oliver had used to overturn the momentum against Talon mere minutes before.
His influence extended, and the mere death of Rivera was not enough for her to sit still. She checked the wound to her stomach, and confirmed that it wouldn't be a problem any time soon. It had half-closed itself, and the blood loss from it had slowed to but a trickle. She didn't understand why, or how, but she didn't need to.
Judas was already forcing the line of men back in his excitement, an animalistic fury in his eyes, and now Blackthorn was determined to join him.
It was Talon that felt Rivera's loss before anyone else. Not even the soldiers on the left flank seemed to have realized what had happened. Given how hard-fought and drawn out the battle between Rivera and Blackthorn had been, none could have expected it to be overturned in an instant.
Oliver saw Talon's expression falter, as he looked over his shoulder. "Rivera…" he said, doubt in his voice. Oliver's sword came down on him, in his moment of distraction, and scored a lively hit across his shoulder.