The battlefield was a vast expanse of wet, muddy earth, the sky dark with the threat of an incoming storm. The air was thick with moisture, charged with the anticipation of the battle.
Kesca moved first, her body a fluid motion as she summoned water to her side. The air around her shimmered as torrents of water swirled into existence, coiling around her like an ethereal serpent.
Dante reacted swiftly, his instincts guiding him as he swung his massive claymore in a wide arc. The sword sliced through the water, but Kesca was already gone, the water reforming at her command to create a shield, redirecting the force of his attack.
She stepped forward, her movements graceful and flowing, as if the water itself was her ally. With a flick of her wrist, the water surged forward, forming a massive wave that rushed toward Dante, threatening to engulf him in its wake.
But Dante, undeterred, planted his feet firm in the ground. He swung his claymore down, cleaving through the water with incredible force. The wave shattered upon impact, spraying droplets in every direction, but the water reformed instantly at Kesca's command. She had already closed the distance, and with a quick motion, she thrust her hands forward, sending a barrage of smaller water spears straight for Dante.
Dante twisted his body, narrowly dodging the sharp projectiles. He moved like a storm, cutting through the water in fluid, powerful movements, his massive claymore deflecting each strike. Yet, he could feel the pressure mounting. Kesca was relentless, her water magic as unpredictable as the tides.
"Not bad," Dante grunted, his breath steady as he faced her. His eyes narrowed, sensing the shift in her focus. "But you'll need more than that."
Kesca's lips curled into a determined smile. "I'm just getting started."
The battle continues.
Within the wide expanse of the Frings Estate, Eri moved briskly along cobbled paths. The air smelled of earth and smoke. Somewhere far off in the east, war shook the ground.
She tried to keep her pace casual. Soldiers marched past her—some in plate armor and robes.
"Halt," a voice snapped.
Eri stopped. A dwarf, short but solid as a boulder, eyed her warily.
"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, eyes narrowing beneath his helm.
"I just… wanted to see the whole estate," she replied, brushing her hair behind her ear with a sheepish smile. "It's my first time here."
He looked her up and down, then gave a short grunt. "Fine. But don't wander too far. You're here to protect the estate, not become its tourist."
"Sure, thanks, ser." She gave a small bow and walked off.
She roamed. The estate was sprawling — banners flapped on high towers, spellbound lanterns floated lazily above stone paths.
'Where is it? No gates, no guards walking in patterns… it has to be hidden.'
She found herself near the central mansion now, but still outside—standing before a circular garden where a few other knights lounged. She tilted her head, feigning awe, pretending to admire the water fountain with enchanted streams looping midair.
Then she saw it—beside the mansion's outer wall, half-concealed by tall hedges and a marble statue. A slope that led underground. She didn't stare. Instead, she looked away and kept walking like she hadn't seen anything.
Then a quake hit.
The estate trembled. Shouts rang out from distant guard posts. Eri took her chance. She let out a sharp scream, flailed her arms, and tumbled backwards. Her body rolled down the sloped path like an unlucky girl caught off balance.
At the bottom, she groaned and blinked at the dim blue light of the corridor ahead. Just one guard stood there.
"You okay?" he asked, rushing forward.
"Yeah… just fell. So clumsy," she muttered, holding her elbow and trying not to grin.
"What's down here?" she asked, feigning curiosity.
"Oh, just some goods Lord Frings keeps down here. Nothing special," the guard said, waving his hand casually.
"Thank you!!" she chirped, suddenly wrapping him in a tight hug.
'Gotcha!'
Meanwhile…
"Kaeli said you're awake already. So get your ass up already and eat," Gerard said, standing at the door, arms crossed.
"I'm still tired," Rethrus mumbled from the bed, pulling the blanket over his head.
"Rethrus, food's already on the table—and don't forget, we've got a mission today," Kaeli reminded, her voice firmer.
"Fine, fine," he sighed, dragging himself up.
He sat at the table, grabbing a piece of bread. The ground gave a soft rumble beneath them—faint, but steady. A reminder that the battle in the east side hadn't quieted down.
"Your house is built different, huh?" Gerard said between bites, nodding toward the walls. "Barely a crack."
"Yes, well—I'm not exactly poor, you know," Kaeli chuckled, sipping her tea.
"I feel sorry for the ones who are," Gerard muttered, his tone more serious.
"Don't worry too much," Kaeli replied. "The city watch is holding the line, and the noble families will cover most of the repairs. They always do."
Rethrus listened in silence, chewing slowly.
'All this is happening because of us… especially me. Am I really a good person? Sacrificing lives for a girl I barely remember?' He clenched his teeth. 'Tsk. I can't back out now.'
He stood up, grabbing his staff and slinging his bag over his shoulder.
"Where are you going?" Kaeli asked, her brow rising.
"I'm heading out to help the city watch," Rethrus said, already at the door.
"But—"
"Don't worry. I'll be back before dark."
He didn't wait for a reply.
"Be careful out there," Gerard called. "Damn that kid…"
Kaeli smiled faintly. "Well, after all… he's our future hero."
Rethrus walked with purpose, the road cracked beneath his boots. Smoke blurred the horizon.
"Sir! Where are you going?" a city watch soldier called out, jogging toward him.
"Where's the poor district?" Rethrus asked, not slowing.
The soldier paused. "Districts 25 to 40... they've been hit the worst in this war."
"Exactly," Rethrus muttered, pushing past.
The soldier stood there, stunned. "Wait… was that Rethrus?"
In District 27, buildings lay broken like snapped bones. Crying babies echoed through shattered alleys, their wails cutting through the air like blades. Mothers searched rubble for their children. Blood painted stone.
A collapsed house still burned, its fire long ignored. Limbs of the dead stuck out from beneath fallen walls, and the living dug with bare hands, praying to find breath beneath the weight.
Children screamed in the distance as another tremor shook what little remained. The city watch tried to keep order, but their presence was thin—overwhelmed, outnumbered, and barely holding the line.
"Tsk, this is the worst," Lysara muttered as she guided the stumbling citizens down the cracked road. "Why didn't they evacuate when they had time…" she thought bitterly, her boots splashing through dirty water and ash.
"People only run when the fire's already at their door," her second-in-command said beside her, trying to keep pace.
"Then they deserve to burn," she replied, handing the child to a medic.
"Captain! There's someone stuck in the east alley!" a young soldier shouted from ahead.
"Fine! I'll go!"
Without hesitation, she handed off the group of frightened civilians to another soldier. "Lead them to the safety area. And don't trip over your own feet."
She cracked her knuckles and sprinted forward, wind magic swirling at her boots and hands. With a burst, she shot through the rubble like a streak of silver and kicked off a broken cart to reach the collapsed home. Inside, a man screamed for help, pinned beneath timber and stone.
"Quit screaming," she growled. "You're still breathing, aren't you?"
With a grunt, she pushed magic through her limbs and heaved the beam off his leg, then yanked him up by the collar.
"Thank you, ma'am!"
"Tsk. Just get out of here, you idiot," she said, brushing dust off her shoulder.
"Damn, she's scary," one soldier whispered to another.
"Yeah, and strong as hell… even for someone so young."
"What are you staring at?" she barked, eyes flaring. "There's still people out there! Move!"
"Yes, ma'am!" The two froze and ran.
The smoke was thick. Screams layered over crumbling stone as buildings in the poor district continued to collapse from the distant echoes of war. Lysara's boots slid against the dusty street as she rushed forward, eyes locking onto a small figure trapped near a burning cart.
A little girl, no older than six, sat frozen, clutching a stuffed animal as a wooden beam cracked above her.
"Move!" Lysara yelled, pushing herself harder, wind magic bursting at her feet. But she wasn't going to make it in time.
The beam fell—
And stopped mid-air.
Tendrils of black shadow rose from the ground like smoke turned solid, catching the beam inches before it hit. Another hand scooped up the little girl gently and pulled her away.
Lysara skidded to a halt, heart pounding.
Standing just a few feet away, calmly lowering the child onto her feet, was a boy dressed in a black cloak, holding a staff across his back. The shadows disappeared like they were never there.
The girl looked up at him, eyes wide. "Thank you, mister."
Rethrus gave a small smile. "Stay close to the soldiers, okay?"
Lysara stared. "You… you just— What was that dark magic?"
One of her men jogged up behind her, eyes wide. "Wait… isn't that…?"
"It's him," another whispered. "That's Rethrus. The wonder boy."
Lysara blinked, processing, then folded her arms.
"Tch. You could've stepped in a bit earlier, you know. I had it under control."
Rethrus tilted his head slightly, smirking. "Of course you did, Captain."
She scoffed and turned away, hiding the way her ears went red.
"Show-off," she muttered, but couldn't help glancing back as he walked into the chaos again—calm and unreadable.