THE BLADES.
Rictor bit back the urge to do a great many things, then: one thought was to simply pluck her up in his arms like a knight from the plays and carry her out himself. He discarded that idea immediately.
The other thought was to surrender himself to a familiar litany: Yea, and if I be offered upon the sacrifice and service of your faith, I joy, and rejoice with you all. The old Chant, one of the mainstays of the holy knight, the offering of one's blood for another. But the air was thick with the metallic taste of Cures and Rictor could feel the magick settling into him like a heavy blanket, his weak leg strengthening, his wrecked forearm twitching itself back into alignment within his gauntlet. Broken bone re-knitted itself and he steadied himself against that reassurance, the presence of Faram in the Kaplan and the Gardists' prayers. The Chant wouldn't be needed. Not today.
And she didn't have to ask twice.
Rictor knelt down further and dipped his shoulder beneath her arm, broad and sturdy like a rock in the seething ocean. His own arm went around Lex's waist and he hoisted her up to her feet, the girl's legs wobbling like a fawn. A hand lingered on her hip.
Balder's grin seemed to speak multitudes: All done?
That look jarred Rictor back into action. “Let's get out of here,” he said, free hand sheathing the gunblade and resting against the pommel. After a pause to ensure that Lex was steady once more, his palm briefly touching hers before pulling away, he strode forward and re-took his place by Luscini's side, and started leading the way towards the exit of the caves. If they came across more undead on the way out, they would do what must be done – but they had cleared out a sizeable nest. If there were still enemies lurking somewhere in these twisting, nigh-endless caverns, other groups would have to deal with them. Clearing out the entirety of the caves was not a five-person job, after all.
“We'll see the Hauptmann once we return to the Cathedral,” he said. “He'll want an in-person report.” It was like the man was donning an intangible suit of authority, the Korporal sliding in and assuming his place where Ric – just Ric – had once stood just a few moments earlier.