It is now Raydasday the fifteenth.
She had awoken with a start this morning— that immense, arcane pressure of a magic signature weighing down on her like a black-white mountain of grinning evil.
Royal Knight Order is sitting alongside her thirteenth cup of coffee today, mixed lazily with an edge of scotch as she maintains her perpetual stupor of wry, depressed hopelessness on her couch. Parvo, always small and dumb, is in full-relaxation mode beside her thigh as he sprawls out with a limp, pink tongue lulled before him. He is clueless to the feeling— but then again, so are most lifeforms. She'll be ready for him, just like she's ready for everyone else. On her other thigh is the dimensional sheath for Monument, a sword that can strike down a fortress with a single brush. Only its handle protrudes, inviting her grip to draw out the immense majesty of its Starlendic power— but not yet.
She sits quietly, listening to her clock tick away next to the piano across the room. She's just feeling, waiting, making herself a still pond in preparation for a movement by The Overlord— as she has been biding for the whole of the morning, working her way through one drink after another. He's so close, its palpable; she can practically taste his icy-black menthol fingers attempting to separate her heart from her chest even now. The matter is that it's not just from a single direction, but from all around her. In every direction she can feel the chaotic essence pulsing— surely a ruse to catch her off-guard.
Releasing long, readied breaths, she finally decides to rise with one hand on Monument's handle and take the initiative. She's been waiting on guard for hours, and it's really getting to her now. Chaos does tend to stay quiet for no more than a minute before reaching his destination— but for hours? Her ancient opponent must be especially determined this time.
Order walks across in her dainty white nightgown with the profile of a breeze- she hasn't had enough time to change, considering he could attack at any time— not that people would mind, really; it's fitting for an old lady like her, even if she looks no older than thirty.
With a few subdued spells, she extends her sight outward, risking getting caught unawares from up close, but expanding her overall field of view. She magically feels her way through her house, then outside, and finally, she feels them— not it, not one, but many. In her mystically-extended perception, she can feel at least three… perhaps four dozen infestees… but no infestor. Chaos isn't among his minions. He must have sent them to go do something stupid as hell, and of course none of the authorities have caught on. Her town: Frau is so completely out of the way of the main roads, after all; it has no significant economy, fort, or resource. Who but Chaos would think to attack this town, and who but Order would be expected to be the right person for the job of defending it?
She sighs, shakes her head, and under the gaze of a curious Parvo, she exits her house without a noise. It's cloudy today, so she doesn't much mind.
"Wh-there!" a squeaky voice yells out from one of her hydrangea bushes.
"Where?" calls another bush.
"Dude, the door!"
"Oh, wow she's quiet as fu-"
"Raise the alarm!"
"Okay," She hears a deep breath. "AHHHHH!"
"Dude, with your antennae!"
"Oh, well they know anywa-"
"So does she! Sunnovabi-"
"Afternoon," Order says, peering around the bush.
Comic Relief Crony Minion stares up at her, his crooked antennae startling straight up at the sight of The High Overlord's greatest enemy.
"W-… well afternoon there, ma'am! Just eh," he looks nervously to the other bush, where Voyeurism Minion is waiting with his camera, "we're here to check your… ducts."
Order, a long, crass smile across her face, leans down with a cute, pre-school teacher-like squat. "Oh, my ducts?"
"Y-…" Comic Relief Crony Minion looks aside at her house, there are no ducts to be seen. "Yes?"
With a super-sonic slap, Order smacks off the Minion's head, sending him soaring back fifty meters before collapsing pathetically in a heap onto her roof. Of course, the strike being unenchanted, it's only a matter of time before his head finds its way back to his stupid body and recomposes to reform his good, old, incompetent self. Order finds their practical immortality to also double as a fun gag over the years; what a precious, slapstick existence they all must live, she thinks.
"Let me know what you find," she coos using a parental snideness quite unlike her usual.
With a sigh, Order gets up and turns around to the bush on her right side. Her steps, usually professional and unassuming, have gained that infamous mix of forward volition and cattiness quite unique to her— like a lumberjack walking up to pick a petty fight with someone, simultaneously humorous and intimidating, simultaneously masculine and feminine. At times like this she can be allowed a little leniency in expression; she has very little patience for Chaos and his minions, after all.
"W-hey, lady, look— we were just-" he tugs nervously on his camera strap, its SD card filled to the brim with unsavory pictures for the sake of blackmail and personal research. "Just gaining an… insurance estimate on your house."
She draws forward. "And why would you be doing that?"
His grin is trembling in perfect tandem with his body. "…To find out… how you… lost your ducts, ma'-"
Voyeurism Minion receives a kick Order usually reserves only for Chaos— though with the cold spill of white infusia across her foot, it feels close enough. The minion and his camera are utterly projected across her house's white-brick siding, reducing him to a glowing smear of minion-matter and electronics.
Without even a scratch on her ultra-fortified ankle, she continues barefoot around her house, where she catches out more minions.
There's a part of her that's glad she's alone, as she'd probably have to go through all the effort of arresting them if other knights were around to watch; just kicking the shit out of them until they leave is way easier– it's less paperwork.
Making a full lap around her home, she locates and dispatches Stealth Minion, Jumpscare Minion, Overly-Enthusiastic Ninja Minion, Chainsaw Battle Minion, Isn't Sure Where He's Supposed To Be Minion— and finally Topiary Minion who, before he was found out, was spending his time quite helpfully improving the shapes of her bushes with his hedge clippers. She lets him off with a warning instead of disintegrating his face like the others; they're not all bad, and that's usually what makes it hardest for her.
She can feel the chaotic presence around her diminishing now, like a spiritual cacophony of insects chirping in a deep, black wood. They're becoming quieter, and she can soon pick out the direction of where it's heaviest. Now that the magical atmosphere has cleared up, she can feel it clearly; there's a much, much bigger magical signature down the way, and she has no doubt its where most of the minions are. This must have been only a distraction for the main event.