Holy Templar Sanctum (Aincrad)

[Apollymi]

How did Olivier know that someone like Astolfo didn't need to be tortured? Well, the basics of it was that he didn't trigger any of her natural instincts. That was a rather rare quality that many children didn't possess, given this she was sure he didn't require torture. So, what would she do... "Torture is different for everyone, maybe niceness is yours? Or maybe the right tactics don't exist yet~" she mused. Surely so as not to leave a friend out she'd eventually figure out a way to make him feel included without compromising her own ideals. Of course, Janessa had similar problems and a few more. Here and now, it probably would have been more concerning that she killed a man with no remorse and no one in this room with her cared that she had. She used to feel very bad about being the Executioner and now she'd become quite desensitized to it. "Yeah yeah, let's get out of here," said Janessa as she tried not to think too much about the creepy aspects of moving into the 98th Floor.

In the meantime, Bradamante was making her way to floor 75. She wasn't quite to the colosseum yet, but she would be shortly. And while the tall lad stood off to the side, a young blonde woman with her hair up in a ponytail also watching the on going sparring match between Roland and Renaud. The tall young man wondered how many days these two had been at it, and there would only be a small voice to tell him the number. "Four. Give or take. Apparently, the more evenly matched individuals could go for a week or so before a winner would be determined, or so the old tales say," she said. She'd once heard that a war between two kings had taken eight days and nights before a singular victor was determined. But that kind of endurance seemed inhuman at best. Her skepticism said it was more more likely just assigned a number for the sake of asserting virility or some such thing. Whatever the case, Bradamante entered the colosseum to the sound of clashing swords. "Wooah! They look really into it. Oh? And you guys are here too! That saves so much trouble! Hey! Rey, Lando? Take a breather would ya' I have news!" she claimed.

[Bloodedge]

In the colosseum, the tall male heard a few choice words from his female companion. The greatest warriors could allegedly battle for a week when evenly-matched? He heard something of the sort in recent weeks, and he couldn't really call himself surprised after his own final battle before joining this group. "That's not too astounding. My fight with Olivier took a couple of days at least, so I could see the more monstrous warriors fighting for longer. Some people have no sense of stamina limitations," he commented.

In the midst of their observation, another of their comrades arrived. Bradamante, one of the more generally appreciated of the peers, appeared to comment on the ongoing battle. Regrettably, she called out to the combatants who were far too busy being at each other's throats to register her words. Swords clashed, sparks flew, and no amount of acknowledgment came Bradamante's way. Well... some did, but it was from the elf instead. "Give it a rest. They've been at it for days; they won't hear your voice. What's the news?" he wondered while watching tongues of flame dance around the fighters. Perhaps the battle would reach a natural end soon, or perhaps things were just ramping up... again.

[Apollymi]

"That says a lot about both of your strengths," said the blonde knight whose eyes only shifted at the approach of Bradamante. Well, the two men fighting were her brother and cousin, her appearance here wasn't truly strange. Even so, her desire to stop them before they reached their natural lull was a bit strange. It would be the tall man who was first to mention how long the fight had been going on and who tried to quiet the words of the spear wielding blonde lass, but it wouldn't work. This particular woman already knew that. The girl had come with purpose, given that she even bothered trying to get everyone's attention, there would be no peace until she delivered whatever message she'd come here for, "Bradamante, you know they require a more direct approach," she said to the girl.

A scoff escaped the pigtailed lass. "Ugh, I hate getting between them, it always feels like life or death. It's hot and unnecessary," she claimed only to sigh. "But the message is for everyone here and we have to get going so I'd rather not waste unnecessary time on it either," she said seeming to think about it. Only a few seconds later the girl was bouncing on her toes and slapping her facial cheeks as if hyping herself up to do something outlandish. A pair of little angelic wings sprouted from her back and she was concentrating on the battle, looking for the proper opening to interrupt the fight between her older brother and her cousin. "Eh, one of you wanna help out? I'm not in much danger but it'd be in a pain if I caught a hit I didn't see coming," she asked for a favor. Breaking the pair up was imperative.

[Bloodedge]

"If you say so. I think it says just as much about my weakness. By the end of it all, I couldn't bear another few minutes. I have reason to believe Olivier could have continued for a few days longer," he proclaimed. That battle he alluded to had come to an end after a couple of days, but it had done so because he lost. That loss had resulted in his joining of the Templar Order in a roundabout way, but it remained a symbol of the difference between himself and that sadistic woman. "Being useful requires being powerful. I still have a lot of work to do. Maybe I'll take next," he said about the ongoing battle.

Moving on, Bradamante had news that she apparently wouldn't share with less than the full group. To make that desire a reality, she thought to interject in the literally heated battle taking place. The tall male sighed. It would be irresponsible to let her jump in alone, and lo, Bradamante asked if one of the observers wished to help her. "I don't necessarily agree with this, but I'd be lying if I said there were another way. I'll take care of the heat before it becomes too much."

After taking a deep breath, the elf materialized a large lance with a tip that glowed with holy wind. A shroud of mana that was almost tangible stemmed from said lance as he leapt forward, pointing his weapon toward the sky above both fighters. While the red-haired male named Renaud was charging with his massive, flaming blade, a mighty spiral of wind was made overhead to suck in all the flames. By this intervention, the one called Roland was able to more easily parry that giant weapon. It was then that Roland was intending to spin on one foot, using the other to kick out at Renaud's face. If uninterrupted, Renaud would be left with a jaw that... wasn't quite properly aligned anymore. . .

[Apollymi]

This normally quiet woman gave a bit of consideration to his statement. What she knew of Olivier was that her endurance was on par with someone like Renaud. Given that, a couple of days probably wasn't enough to completely wear her down at all. Even so, the fact that he hadn't simply been captured said quite a bit about his strength and character. No matter his reasons, he'd joined this group and he had a decent amount of power to show for his work. Continued effort would only help and never hurt. "If you take next, Renaud is most likely to give you the sort of challenge you received from Olivier," she suggested. That wasn't a thing to be negatively said about Roland, it was simply how she measured the pair of men.

Too bad that eventuality wasn't coming to fruition at this point in time. No. Because Bradamante needed all of their attention for some large scale announcement. It seemed that the newest addition to their group was willing to help out and a gentle nod would escape their silent friend. "I'll leave it to you two," she said. Watching as a very interesting maneuver was performed by the elf. Beyond that... Bradamante shot herself forward during the commotion, taking up her spear against Roland. In doing so a rather abrupt strike was aimed about the center of his chest. If uninterrupted he would find himself likely on his butt without much of an explanation how he got there. "Hello, earth to meatheads. I have news about our leader and we need to get moving. Jeez, do you go deaf when you fight?!" she questioned in a most exasperated way. Of course, she didn't blame them for enjoying their battles, but they could be at least a bit more conscious of their surroundings. What was more, the tall man had indeed kept his word, not even a hair on her head was a little bit burned by the fires coming off her brother's weapon.

[Bloodedge]

Roland had a few expectancies for his ongoing assault. Of the things he thought could happen, suddenly being launched away by something he hadn't previously seen was not among them. Bradamante's lance collided with his torso. Through the air he went, until he was sliding along dirt in a seated position. Roland didn't seem to be very inconvenienced by this, though his face bore an expression of shock as the girl called his, and Renaud's attention. "Woah! Sorry, but you should know there was no room for distractions. I'd have lost my head without paying full attention to the fight," Roland said.

At the same time, Renaud's charge had come to an end shortly after realizing his flames were being absorbed. It was a bit easier for him to find a break in combat and have an open ear for Bradamante. Of course, he was also the most used to her presence. Renaud was not caught unawares by her arrival at all, as a matter of fact. Part of him had been hoping she'd enter the fight fully when pulling that little stunt. "Don't be stupid. You'd have lost your head in a few seconds while paying attention," the red-haired male said with a confident grin on his face. Casually lifting that sword onto his shoulder as if the gargantuan thing weighed nothing, he stepped forward and looked toward Bradamante. "What news about our leader? Is he dead? Dibs on whoever killed him, if so~"

[Apollymi]

Roland the man who was her cousin apologized. He always did, claiming he needed to absolutely concentrate to keep from losing his head. Of course, Renaud also had commentary which claimed that the other man would have lost his head regardless. In a moment like this Bradamante stood with her hands on her hips seemingly annoyed by the entire situation. "Ugh, pay attention to both your surroundings and your opponent, Lando," she said while preparing to give her spiel. Only she heard the rest of what her brother had to say and simply scoffed. "Of course he's not dead. We, that being me, Astolfo, Anais and Charlemagne just got back from our mission," she started explaining leaving out lesser details because she knew how her brother was. "And the Holy Father has taken an interest in him. Apparently, Charlemagne is first in line to be Holy Emperor," she said. "And that little upgrade comes with us, as in all members of his party, moving to Floor 98," she explained.

Of course, there was a lot of superstition around floor 98. Though Bradamante and Roland weren't old enough to have known the Holy Maiden turned heretic. They'd still been around long enough to hear whispers about her now and again. It seemed in bad taste to Bradamante herself to move into that one's old floor but she couldn't deny the goodness of Charlemagne. "So, basically pack up. We're moving!" she said knowing that the group should be gathering to go to their next place. The blonde haired young woman who'd been observing before had moved close enough to hear the announcement and she was a bit stunned. That seemed to be quite an interesting turn of events, but she supposed she had no problem with moving, nor did she find their leader to be unworthy of praise. It was just a bit odd that someone was about to occupy a floor which hadn't seen real occupation in a millennia at best. "Are we sure that place isn't in ruins?" she asked in an off-handed manner.

[Bloodedge]

Obviously, Bradamante hadn't spent a great deal of time fighting her own brother. "Utterly impossible in some cases, I'm afraid," was all Roland said. Naturally, Renaud could only agree. If he was given even an inch of leeway, someone's head or limb would go flying in a heartbeat. Roland's head would have been gone within moments of that kick, even at the sacrifice of Renaud's jaw. Maybe he should have done it anyway; that would have made up for the disappointment he was soon to know.

Bradamante brought information about Charlemagne, yet it didn't involve his death. What a shame. "No new big boss then, huh? Then this wasn't worth interrupting practice," said Renaud. Ah, but there was something interesting to take note of. Charlemagne was receiving some type of acknowledgment from the Holy Father. Such acknowledgment involved the young man's Party being housed on Floor 98. That was just below the Holy Princess' place of residence, as he recalled. Such prestige was sure to bring challengers into their midst. "Sounds fine I guess. There's nothing left down here anyway," the redhead declared. The blonde observer took issue with the potentials of this move, however. One could say the same about the other onlooker, but he had a different reason. "Even if it isn't in ruins, is it even alright for someone to live there? I'm hoping the grounds were consecrated after that heretic was taken out."

[Apollymi]

Bradamante didn't fight her brother a lot, but she knew enough about combat to know that if someone as overwhelming as Renaud was also less upstanding than a knight, then one could easily find themselves at a serious disadvantage. Yes, that was the truth of the matter, life was a complicated thing and she knew that some had to have better instincts than others. "Excuses." Bradamante was quick to snap just a bit.

The whole conversation with Renaud went about the way Bradamante expected. At least she'd gotten the whole of the bit out before anything bad happened. Her brother sh eknew would enjoy the idea of potentially having some new people to face, and beyond that challengers would make their way up. The question of one onlooker concerned the state of the place, the other the potential consecration of the land. Both were interesting points but one of them was a bit insensitive to the situation. "I don't know the state of it, I came straight here after a minor detour. As for the consecration I doubt the Holy Father would allow unconsecrated lands in his space. So, don't mention it," she said. Her words were the truth as she understood it, but that last bit was a warning she wasn't sure any would actually understand. She looked to the tall man and wondered if she should warn him against mention of the heretic unless he truly wanted to have to explain it to someone like Astolfo. If that one didn't know she was sure it was going to go badly, her cousin was many things, but all she ever heard from her extended family was the greatness of the Maid of Orleans and how she looked after a younger Astolfo. "Anyway, we're meeting up there so let's go~" she stated willing to walk off.

At the same time in the Archives, a certain young woman dressed in dark armor sat at a table surrounded by books. She'd been casually reading for ages, with the lass with the Antlers stumbled upon her. She sat across from her at the table. They had a hushed conversation for several moments and then both stood and headed out together. It seemed whatever was said between them, they were both willing to head out to where they were going without any more fuss or wait. Such was the nature of these sorts of people.

[Bloodedge]

Excuses, the young woman said. What a shame. Roland wasn't the sort to make excuses, and he certainly wasn't making one now. Even in practice, he could accidentally find his life in danger against Renaud due to the redhead's barely-hidden bloodlust. "That was no excuse! I'll strip and you'll see how tough it is!" he shouted. Ah, there was an issue Roland suffered. He'd just threatened his own cousin with stripping, which often resulted in him being labeled a pervert. Alas, there was realization. "Wait, why would I strip..." he looped back, shaking his head. With that, he lifted himself from the ground with the help of Renaud's offered hand. Those two were ready to get moving. However...

The elf was not so sure about taking the floor that last belonged to a heretic, mostly because most of their lifetimes didn't even begin until long after that alleged event. He was still relatively new to this religion compared to many of the others. Apparently, he was not to mention the state of Floor 98, as the Holy Father would surely have left it in a blessed state after that age-old debacle. "If you say so. Either way, I suppose I should expect more of Charles. I'll at least go if he's willing to have us all live there," the tall male said. With that, it seemed all three males in the vicinity were ready to depart with some things picked up along the way.

Archbishop Turpin had taken no effort at all to convince. Frankly, he'd been expecting something along these lines, just not so soon. Charlemagne had taken only a few sentences to convince, or even excite him. Turpin then had the joy of moving between one floor and another to locate a few remaining members of their peerage. Meanwhile, Charlemagne himself was rendered without a task and with all the time it would take his comrades to assemble. He didn't want to wait around on the 98th floor for the 1-3 hours he assumed it would take everyone to be found, informed, pack up and all that. That would have been weird. So then, Charlemagne did something he hadn't done in far too long. He visited the 99th floor for the first time in a few decades. He didn't normally go so long without visiting, not by a long shot, but he had a bit of time to stop by now.