Arknights: Soul Knights of Terra — Chapter 104

Chapter 104: Falling Stars and Lost Knights

“Meteorite? What meteorite?”

The confused voice of a comrade crackled through the earpiece, but the Darksteel assassin no longer had the luxury of replying. He stared upward, his pupils shrinking to pinpricks as he tracked the blazing anomaly tearing through the night sky.

“Kazimierz curse it all,” he breathed in absolute disbelief. “There’s a person inside that thing!?”

Amidst the blinding corona of atmospheric friction, a towering silhouette was vaguely visible. The Darksteel immediately raised his heavy crossbow, muscles coiling as he nocked a custom armor-piercing bolt. This sector of the city had been carefully cleared out in advance for their operation. For a heavy-hitter to suddenly drop from the heavens right into their lap? There was no way this intruder was just passing by. Such a theatrical entry couldn’t possibly be a coincidence.

A cold dread pooled in his gut as a terrible thought flashed through his mind. Did the K.G.C.C. really intend to silence their own tools the moment the dirty work was finished?

Originium Arts flared, gathering volatile energy at the tip of the bolt until the surrounding air warped from the sheer density. With a ferocious snarl, the Darksteel pulled the trigger, unleashing a projectile engineered to punch clean through reinforced concrete.

“Let’s see if you have the teeth to chew on this!”

High above the neon-drenched canopy of Kazimierz, Gregor stared down at the sprawling, complex grid of intersecting streets. Irritation prickled beneath his heavy armor.

‘Tsk… have I been here before?’

The sky had completely darkened, the twin moons casting a pale glow over the mobile city. His thoughts drifted to Ifrit. That kid had always lacked a fundamental sense of security. If he didn’t return to the hotel soon, she was bound to panic or, worse, set something on fire. He couldn’t afford to waste any more time. Bracing himself, Gregor prepared to push his thrusters to a higher altitude to get a better vantage point, fully aware that the maneuver would attract unwanted attention.

A sharp, thunderous crack shattered the high-altitude silence.

Gregor instinctively shifted his gaze downward, spotting a stealthy figure bounding across the rooftops with practiced ease. The man was cloaked in shadows and armed to the teeth. He certainly didn’t look like an upstanding citizen.

‘I might as well ask for directions…’

Shifting his momentum, the blazing Paladin altered his descent trajectory, angling directly toward the fleeing figure.

Then—a streak of black light flashed upward. Gregor’s digital eyes widened on his visor. The energy reserves within his armored chassis surged in automatic defense.

‘…’

Down below, perched on the precipice of a glass-paneled high-rise, the Darksteel’s ruthless smirk froze. Shock hijacked his features.

“How is that even possible!?”

His full-force, armor-piercing strike hadn’t deflected or shattered—it had simply been swallowed whole by the descending inferno. Just how absurdly high was the temperature of those flames? Survival instincts kicked in. Without a second of hesitation, he abandoned his heavy crossbow, pivoted on his heel, and threw himself off the edge of the building.

He deployed his grappling lines, swinging fluidly against the outer walls and using the dense architecture to mask his escape route. His mind raced, frantically filtering through the list of potential enemies or rival factions within the K.G.C.C. who might have hired such a monstrous assassin.

But the oppressive heat behind him clung like a shadow. Instead of fading, the thermal pressure spiked, growing closer and closer until the air itself began to ripple and warp.

Cold sweat plastered his tactical gear to his skin. The very moment his boots hit a concrete ledge to push off for another swing, his peripheral vision caught a terrifying reflection in the adjacent glass pane.

A massive, gauntleted hand, wreathed in flowing, liquid fire, was reaching out for him. A strange, hollow smile touched the assassin’s lips.

‘So this is it. My life ends here…’

Gregor slammed the Darksteel into the rooftop with a heavy thud, pinning him securely. The assassin, fully expecting his spine to snap or his flesh to incinerate, blinked in sheer astonishment. He was completely unharmed. Not even a scorch mark.

“Sneaking around in the dark. Are you a thief, or an assassin?” a calm, synthesized electronic voice inquired.

Realization finally caught up to the pinned man, twisting his features into a grimace of utter disbelief.

‘No way… you really were just passing by?! What kind of lunatic travels across a Mobile City by turning themselves into a human meteorite!?’

“Speak.” The metallic pressure on the back of his neck increased just enough to serve as a warning.

Rome instantly threw both hands flat against the concrete, his words spilling out in a rapid, desperate panic. “Rome! Fifty-three years old! I’m just a mercenary who works for coin! I mistook you for my target! It’s a complete misunderstanding, I swear! I’ll give you every last LMD in my savings! Just let me walk away!”

“A mercenary?” Gregor glanced over the man’s specialized tactical gear and hidden blades, buying exactly none of that story. “You can explain that to the police.”

Rome froze, genuinely doubting his own hearing.

Before the assassin could process the absurdity of the threat, a cold, measured female voice echoed from the shadows of the adjacent rooftop access.

“The local mounted police are entirely unequipped to handle a Darksteel of the Armorless Union. Even if you drag him to a precinct, the K.G.C.C. will simply bail him out before sunrise.”

A blonde Caprini stepped out from the gloom. She moved with slow, deliberate grace, a massive black greatsword dragging lazily behind her. The heavy blade plowed a shallow trench through the concrete, kicking up a trail of fine, bright sparks. She stopped a few paces away. Her golden eyes swept over Rome with the cold edge of a sharpened blade before finally settling on the towering Paladin.

“Could you please step aside? He and I have some personal grievances to settle.” Her tone was entirely devoid of inflection, a flat promise of violence. “Don’t worry. I will compensate you for the bounty.”

“And who are you?” Gregor asked.

The Caprini paused, slightly taken aback by the question. She re-examined the strangely shaped, heavily armored giant looming before her. “Degenbrecher. You may call me that.”

“I wasn’t exactly asking for your name… but forget it.” Gregor gave up on digging for context. He tightened his grip slightly on the squirming assassin beneath him. “What exactly is the Armorless Union?”

Whoosh—!

A sharp, piercing whistle suddenly tore through the night air. A rapid streak of black light shot from a distant vantage point, curving with cunning precision. It wasn’t aimed at the armored giant—it was aimed squarely at the Darksteel pinned beneath his hand!

Rome felt a surge of bitter indignation. He recognized the signature hum of that bolt. It belonged to one of his own colleagues. This was a clean-up operation. They were silencing him!

A golden gale erupted from Degenbrecher as she lunged forward. She swung her black greatsword in a desperate arc, a flicker of helplessness crossing her mind. The armored giant’s situational awareness was abysmal; the sniper’s bolt was going to punch straight through his chassis and skewer the man he was holding. She had to intercept it.

‘I will cut it down.’

The distance between her heavy blade and the incoming projectile closed to mere inches, but then Degenbrecher’s pupils violently contracted.

Reflected in her golden eyes, the armored giant simply tilted his torso. His free left hand casually reached out, fingers opening to pluck the lethal streak of light right out of the air.

Madman! He was actually trying to catch a Darksteel’s armor-piercing sniper round barehanded?!

Degenbrecher cursed inwardly. The momentum of her swing carried through, the flat of her greatsword barely clipping the side of the bolt’s shaft. The violent collision forced the black streak of light to deviate wildly from its original trajectory, sparing the giant’s hand.

But before the metallic ring could even fade—a third piercing whistle tore through the wind!

The timing was utterly impeccable, a flawless crossfire. This one was aimed straight at Degenbrecher, capitalizing on the split-second delay of her overextended swing.

There’s a third Darksteel!?

Relying on pure combat instinct, Degenbrecher channeled explosive force through her core, violently twisting her torso to minimize the impact zone.

‘Tsk! I really need to switch to dual-wielding in the future…’

Even in the face of death, the Black Knight had the terrifying spare capacity to critique her own loadout. She knew she couldn’t fully evade the projectile at this range, but she could angle herself so it would only carve away a chunk of flesh rather than pierce a vital organ.

[Energy Shield]

A brilliant, spherical force field of golden light suddenly erupted outward, instantly enveloping Degenbrecher in its protective dome. The moment the lethal streak of light struck the barrier, it didn’t shatter or deflect—it simply vanished in a silent ripple of energy. In response, the thermal aura radiating from Gregor’s armor flared, growing even more scorching as his mana reserves absorbed the kinetic impact.

Releasing his grip on Rome, Gregor reached out a heavy hand to steady the Caprini. She swayed slightly, boots grinding against the concrete as she stabilized her own footing.

“…Thanks.”

Ignoring the gratitude, Gregor slowly turned his helmeted head. His digital visor pierced through the gloom of the Kazimierz night, locking dead onto a distant high-rise several blocks away.

“Damn it all… what kind of monster is that!?” the second Darksteel cursed from his sniper nest, his hands trembling slightly as he frantically nocked another bolt. “I don’t believe this! You can’t keep a barrier like that up forever…!!!”

The furious words died in his throat. A deep, icy chill gripped the sniper’s heart as he observed the armored giant’s movements through his scope.

Why was the target picking up the deflected bolt from the roof? Why was the metal shaft suddenly coated in a blinding, volatile layer of flames? Why was he pulling his arm back into a throwing stance? Did he seriously intend to throw an arrow by hand? Across a gap of several city blocks?!

A hysterical sense of absurdity washed over the sniper, but his honed survival instincts screamed at him to evacuate immediately.

He was a fraction of a second too late. The makeshift meteorite crossed the distance in a blinding flash.

BOOM—!!!

A massive, concussive explosion shattered the upper floors of the distant high-rise, sending a spectacular plume of fire and shattered glass raining down into the streets below.

Watching the inferno blossom against the night sky, Gregor sighed inwardly.

‘So, channeling [Splash and Bash] through a physical object basically turns it into an RPG… Good to know.’

He lowered his arm and looked back down at Rome. The surviving Darksteel was now silently squatting on the concrete, both hands clasped firmly behind his head in a textbook posture of absolute submission.

“I surrender. Truly. I’m done.”

Ignoring the assassin’s pathetic display, Gregor turned his attention back to Degenbrecher. “I can hand him over to you, but I have one condition.”

“No problem,” Degenbrecher replied calmly, her golden eyes fixed on the glowing, pixelated question mark that had suddenly appeared on the giant’s “10% Off” digital visor. “Consider it payment for your assistance just now. What is it you want?”

Gregor fell silent for a long moment. He raised a heavy, armored hand and scratched the side of his helmet in a distinctly embarrassed manner.

“…How exactly do I get back to the Grand Kazimierz Hotel?”

Degenbrecher: “…”

She stared at the television-like monitor serving as his face for several long seconds, analyzing his posture to confirm that this walking weapon of mass destruction wasn’t actually joking.

“Are you… bad with directions?”

The night air grew painfully quiet.

Degenbrecher let out an imperceptible sigh. She raised a gauntleted hand, pointing toward the neon glow of the distant skyline. “Go straight down this block. Turn right at the dead end, merge onto the main arterial road, and take another right. Once you enter Commercial Street, just keep heading east.”

“Thanks.”

Gregor reached down, hoisted Rome up by the scruff of his tactical vest, and unceremoniously shoved the assassin into Degenbrecher’s arms like a misdelivered package. Without another word, the Paladin turned on his heel and quickly vanished into the shadows of the nearest alleyway.

Degenbrecher easily bore the weight of the ashen-faced Darksteel, muttering under her breath, “…What a strange guy.”

She lowered her gaze, her golden eyes locking onto her new captive with a frigid intensity.

“I’ll confess everything! I swear to the Kazimierz gods!” Rome immediately threw his hands up again, his words spilling out at a frantic, breathless pace. “My own people just tried to silence me! I’m a dead man walking! I’ll tell you whatever you want to know!”

“Heh.” A dark, amused smirk tugged at the corner of Degenbrecher’s mouth. She adjusted her grip on his collar, turned, and began walking, dragging the elite assassin across the rooftop like a sack of garbage. “Then start praying. Pray that the intel in your head is valuable enough to buy your life.”

Not even five minutes later…

Degenbrecher: “…”

Gregor: “…”

The Black Knight raised a slender eyebrow, pausing at the edge of the street as the towering Paladin awkwardly shuffled back into view. Her tone carried a dry hint of amusement.

“What? Did you change your mind? Do you want this garbage back?”

“…No.” Gregor raised a massive arm to gesture vaguely down the street, then slowly lowered it in defeat. The pixelated expression on his monitor shifted into a highly expressive, blushing emoticon of pure embarrassment. “Could you… perhaps bother to lead the way?”

“Hey! Look over there! Isn’t that…”

“My god! It really is her! How long has it been since she just walked down a public street?”

“I want to go ask for an autograph! Do you want to go together?”

“Are you crazy? Forget it… Lady Black Knight doesn’t look like she’s in a forgiving mood tonight…”

Commercial Street was a blinding sea of neon advertisements and bustling nightlife. The sudden appearance of Gregor’s towering, armored chassis—flanked by a woman dragging an unconscious man—quickly drew a multitude of stares.

However, the vast majority of those wide, awestruck eyes were entirely focused on the blonde Caprini leading the way. Whispers of astonishment, deep admiration, and insatiable curiosity rippled through the dense crowds.

Gregor scanned the parting crowds, genuinely confused by the sheer reverence directed at his impromptu guide. “You seem… incredibly famous around here?”

“I just lived in this city for quite a while. That is all.” Degenbrecher didn’t even bother to turn her head. Her tone remained perfectly flat, a clear indicator that she had zero intention of elaborating on her legendary status.

Gregor wisely chose not to press the issue. His processing power was currently occupied with a much more pressing dilemma: exactly how he was going to explain his dramatic detour to SilverAsh and his roommates once he finally made it back to the suite.

“We are here.”

Degenbrecher’s voice sliced through his internal panic. Gregor snapped his attention forward, letting out a heavy, synthesized sigh of relief as the familiar, opulent facade of their hotel loomed right before his eyes.

“Thanks. Seriously.”

“You are welcome,” she replied, her golden eyes flicking up to his visor. “But… I highly suggest you travel with a chaperone the next time you decide to go out.”

Adjusting her grip, Degenbrecher hoisted the unconscious Rome a bit higher off the pavement and turned to leave.

She barely made it two steps before a heavy metallic clink made her stop. Degenbrecher turned back. Held out in the giant’s palm was a solid ingot of red gold, gleaming with a heavy, dark luster under the streetlights.

“…What is the meaning of this?”

“Payment for the escort,” Gregor stated simply.

Degenbrecher stared at the Paladin for a long, quiet moment, her intense scrutiny making Gregor shift his weight uncomfortably.

“What is your name?”

“Gregor.”

“I am Degenbrecher.” She stated her title once more, completely ignoring the offered gold. Without another word, she turned and melted into the bustling crowd.

Gregor stood alone on the sidewalk, staring down at the rejected red gold in his palm. He felt utterly baffled by the interaction. Sensing the surrounding crowd beginning to close in with their camera flashes and whispers, he decided not to push his luck any further. Slipping the gold back into his inventory, the Paladin turned and strode through the grand doors of the hotel.

At opposite ends of the neon-lit Commercial Street, the two warriors heading in completely different directions shared the exact same, fleeting thought.

‘What a strange guy…’