Knights of Tezoth

If Axel stands to the right of Lorican, will Whitecalm be able to reach him with a bow?

He will.

Ah, I don't want to take risks, but a shootout with Lorican isn't the best option either. Axel moves to the right and bites and slashes Lorican.

I practically came to visit him for a friendly duel, and this radish took off to almost the other side of the world...

Shaking himself off and fighting through his gradually darkening vision, Vargas assesses the situation on the battlefield: a fierce battle is raging on all fronts. And being himself a connoisseur of combat poisons, he understands that his clock is ticking, which means he needs to strike as early and as accurately as possible.
His eyes latch onto the commander of a company of soldiers, dancing with Alaria, and lock onto him like a predator. The armor is perfect — no fault to be found, but no armor can perfectly protect the face — their well-known flaw, unchanged for millennia.
At one moment, the warrior turns away to bark an order at one of his subordinates, and Vargas does not miss this chance. Leaping out of the crater like a silent whirlwind, he charges at the general, synchronizing his trajectory so as not to enter his field of vision. In the end, the old man never even gets to understand whose strip of razor-sharp steel struck him in the eye slit.

Having claimed the enemy commander's head — a feat quite worthy by his own standards — the rogue notices the looks of his subordinates: some furious, some stunned, and some full of tears.
"The Order of the Iron Stronghold... is famed for its invulnerability" — the intelligence data comes to mind.
Suddenly, he recalls a funny dialogue from some work of fiction:
"- What a majestic mountain fortress. They say it is absolutely impregnable.
- Give me a dozen capable lads with climbing gear, and I'll deprive it of its innocence."
The corner of Lester's mouth beneath the terrible mask rises a few millimeters.
- Milady, — Alaria receives a brief nod, after which the assassin scrapes his foot across the ground, raising a cloud of impenetrable dust. When it finally settles — he is long gone without a trace.

During his relocation, he involuntarily asks himself a question that had never crossed his mind before: what, he wonders, does such a fighting style look like from the outside?
A memory flashes through his mind like lightning...
In your twenties, you lie across the couch, your mighty legs propped up on the backrest and your head hanging down, in your hands — a foreign picture magazine. The art style is strange and very unusual for your taste, but pleasing. Overly emotional, big-eyed characters fight in various formats: there are battles of mages, of warriors, and large-scale battles with overcoming against vastly superior enemy forces.

This particular series was dedicated to the battles of mysterious, elusive warriors from different villages. They wore light, inconspicuous clothing and short, unusual-looking swords, constantly assumed various poses and stances, ran fast, and dodged excellently.
The current scene could be described as follows: an exhausted but determined-looking fighter, his face covered in scars, stands in a field, weapon at the ready, and before him are a dozen ragged men, behind whose backs another hero sneers vilely — smaller, but of a quite menacing appearance, hatred blazing in his eyes — for the reader's convenience, it was labeled with a special "sound" effect near his head.
- You were a brother to me, Shikikaki Ken. All those moments when we trained. And when we secretly ran away from sensei. Remember how we finally reached that forbidden clearing, at night, tired and exhausted, and looked at the stars?.. — says the battered warrior on the next slide. - But by joining these scoundrels, you became the cause of my father's death. I don't want to do this, but I must.
- Ha-ha-ha-hah! — the second one laughs merrily, throwing his head back to the heavens. - As if you could do anything, sempai! Your story ends here and now. But you know what, sempai? It was all a lie. I always wore a mask. I was waiting for you to slip up so I could take what was mine, and now it has finally happened.
The elder warrior raises his blade:
- Prepare yourself! — and vanishes from sight, as if dissolving into thin air.
- Heh... did he air-fart and bail?.. — one of the thugs scratches his head, the next second struck in the heart by the sempai who appeared from nowhere — and instantly vanished again.
The bandits scratch their heads, the warrior appears behind the second one, slits his throat with a single motion, and vanishes again.
- Idiots, there he is! — the younger fighter waves somewhere into empty space. - Open your eyes! — an ironic phrase, given the book's art style.
It doesn't help — one by one, the scoundrels are taken by an invisible and intangible reaper.
Finally, the elder and the younger are left alone — face to face.
- My geijutsu is stronger than yours. It has always been so, and nothing has changed. You will lose, — says the sempai with an expression of grim determination.
- Go to hell!!! — Shikikaki Ken lunges at his opponent without any ceremony, their blades crossing...

You turn the last page — the issue ended, as always, on a cliffhanger.
- Damn it! Another month of waiting for the next one! — you toss the magazine aside in disappointment and exhale heavily. - ...but how cool is that! What they come up with! Too bad something like that isn't possible in real life!
You jump off the couch and start practicing a combat stance you'd like to have yourself.
- Sha... Ha... — you apply the techniques that, according to the plot, develop geijutsu, helping to open the secret sight and achieve superhuman abilities.
Suddenly, you hear the scrape of a key in the lock. Darting from your spot, you run to the front door — mother has returned from work, and not empty-handed, but with a couple of bags of shopping.
- Ma! Let me help! — you snatch the bags, and there's groceries in them. - Oh! That's just what I needed, I could really use a bite.
- Hello, son. I'll change, rest a bit, and cook everything up, — a middle-aged but pleasant-looking tired woman smiles, taking off her shoes.
- No, no, you sit down, I'll whip something up myself, — with an armful of food, you run off to the kitchen, where you unload it and deftly chop it up with a table knife.
- How lucky I am to have such a son, — wiping away a tear, the mother mutters under her breath in the hallway, thinking she can't be heard. - Good thing I managed to get him out of the army again...

By my turn, I want to participate in the discussion about where I'll shoot and where I'll stand. Well, tomorrow I'll basically be at home with computer access, so I won't drag out the coordination, and probably the same on Saturday.

If the drama somehow drags on until Sunday, I'll be offline until practically the evening.

I was planning to have you shoot at Whitecalm, because we have very few options to take him down, and Stefania's bleeding, despite the enemy's high resistance, is one of them.

You can. But his defense is 110. My arrows will only tickle him at best.

Wyvern attacks Lorican, miss.
Axel attacks Lorican.
Lorican takes 85*0.25-14=7 damage (223/230). Gloom -.
Lester attacks Rezara.
Miss.
Miss.
Rezara takes (crit) 260 damage (-238/170). The last squad loses its commander...
Lorican and Gingkink lose 20 spirit.
Lester loses 5 HP (165/190), 2% accuracy and evasion.
Lester gets another turn.

That's why we need bleeding. That's why we're counting on you, not Axel.

Alright. I give the go-ahead. If bleeding procs, good. If not, that's unfortunate.

We would have been searching for each other for a long time for the sake of a duel. And we wouldn't have found each other just like our remains. So thanks, but count me out from here on. Stay strong, all the best to you, good mood and health.

Does Lester have a triple normal attack?

By the way, what are my actual accuracy and evasion stats now?

The chances are slim, about 18%, but there are few options and this one is the least risky, albeit time-consuming.