Enter the battle.

Whether you can interact with anything around you or not, you certainly still try. You dart down towards her at the same speed as the undead bird and reach out with a hand barely visible. You're just a shell of yourself, able to observe yet not intervene. Your true body is back outside the stel'ae ruins. You've just been able to reach out with your consciousness, sort of like a Bunny Hop for your mind.

Something about that thought causes your thoughts to click. You hardly think about it. You don't have time. As you stretch your arm out to grab the guard's collar, in hopes of yanking her away from harm just in time, you don't dwell on your inability to do so. Instead, you imagine where you are. You can see it. You're here. Your allies are as well. Because of your bonds, you've been able to assess the battle from afar, but now you need to enter it. You need to help Yaera fulfill her promise. Nobody is going to fall here.

Bunny Hop!

It hurts. For just a moment, it's as if your skin is being stretched across miles. It doesn't matter. Yaera is injured too, and this is nothing. Your entire form snaps across space, and it isn't like you haven't done something similar many times over, but this is different. You aren't imagining where to go and warping there, you're forcing your body to catch up with the rest of you. The spectral silhouette serves almost like a template, and in an instant, the man known as Kyle Warren appears in everyone's time of need to replace what was merely a ghost seconds ago. The grass at your feet parts to a heavy gust of wind from your arrival. Your cloak billows up, and not only have you already thrown the guard from harm, Lauo is drawn in your hand.

With one swing of your sword, you cleave the bird's head to the ground. Then as you pivot back to place yourself between the guard and the rest, you slide your hand across the flat of your blade and speaks the words, "Flare Blade".

Those around you stare in awe at their saviour now standing with a weapon roaring with pink flames. You make short work of the next beast, and the one after. Those around the caravan cheer. One runs to the horses in an attempt to calm them. Meanwhile, the other guards have a sudden boost to their morale as they smile and cheer--the skeletons they clash with falling back at last.

Yaera looks beyond the armoured man with a smile. "He is here," she whispers.

"Of course he is!" Mipa shouts.

"You can't even see who she's talking about," says Sen-nu.

"But obviously it's Kyle. He always keeps us safe... Metal Hurricane!"

The armoured man grumbles. Finally, he speaks. It may sound like that of an ordinary man's, though its strained, as if doing anything at all is pain, yet in a way where it doesn't bother him at all. He loves it. Though just as he raises his hammer, he once again crumbles, nearly to his knees this time, as a holy power falls over him from behind.

Anastasia stands there with her censer up. "Did you hear what they said? Kyle is here. And I will not fail him. You're no undead. Our holy magic isn't as effective on you. But how much punishment can you take, dog of the Witch?"

As soon as you're finished dispatching the winged monstrosities, you hear a screech across the sky. You turn to see the shape from before, now much larger, barrelling down towards the back end of your party's advance, closer to the woods. It's a pincer maneuver.