As the battle raged on, chaos unfolded in every direction.
Fireballs rained from the sky.
Water shields shimmered, healing spells burst across the field.
A man made of stone clashed with one made of metal—it looked more like a brawl than a war.
Monsters roared as they were summoned into the fray.
The dead rose with hollow eyes.
Water. Fire. Lightning.
It was an all-out magic war.
At the center, protected by a barrier—Dante vs. Kesca.
And Dante is tired yet he's winning.
"Is that all you can do?" Dante taunted, pressing forward.
Kesca was now on the run, circling through the chaos, barely dodging Dante's relentless attacks.
'My ultimate is ready,' she thought.
'If I use it now, he's dead for sure…'
'But what if it misses?'
Before she could think, Dante attacked again with a Water Wave—a move where he struck his sword from a distance, releasing a roaring surge of water.
Kesca tried to strike back with a wave of her own, just to slow it down. But his was too strong.
She dodged just in time—only to find Dante already in front of her.
He struck. She blocked with water, but the force was overwhelming.
She was knocked down, thrown across the ground.
"Kesca!" her cousin Thane shouted.
He tried to run toward her, but—
"Ah, ah. Just stay here," Captain Garrick said, stepping forward as the two began to fight.
Injured and staggering, Kesca stood up.
Dante raised his claymore again.
'Shit… here he comes.' She gritted her teeth, gripping her sword tightly.
Dante let out a grunt as he prepared to swing—
The bell—a deep, echoing chime—rang through the battlefield.
Soldiers stopped.
People in the city paused, heads tilted toward the sky.
Even Rethrus looked up, his hands still helping a wounded woman to her feet.
The bell was more than a signal of dusk.
It was tradition. A silent agreement.
The war would halt—for now.
A moment of peace before chaos returned.
And for Rethrus, Kaeli, Gerard, and Eri…
It was time.
Night had fallen like a heavy curtain over the Merlion camp.
Tents rippled in the wind. The scent of scorched earth still lingered in the air, mingling with sweat and dried blood. Inside the largest healing ward, soft glows of aqua-blue magic pulsed as the healers worked in silence, their hands steady, their expressions grim.
Kesca winced, biting down hard as the healer's spell forced her shredded shoulder muscle to realign. Healing magic in theory was graceful—in practice, it felt like being torn apart and stitched back together with fire.
"Damn it, Kesca," Thane muttered from beside her, arms crossed. "Why did you take that one-on-one? You knew you couldn't beat him."
"I couldn't back down," she hissed. "Not with the entire frontline watching."
"You could've died."
She didn't answer. Her jaw clenched too tight to form words.
A flicker of movement outside the tent made her frown. "What's with the noise?"
Thane shrugged. "No idea. Camp's restless."
"That's enough," she said, waving off the healer. The woman hesitated, then bowed and stepped back.
Kesca grabbed her coat and stepped out.
The campfire-lit path was crowded with murmuring soldiers, all glancing toward the command tent—where a tall man in polished armor, gray hair slicked back, was already speaking to the officers.
Her breath caught.
"Father?"
He turned, calm as ever, lips curling into a small smile. "You're still standing. Good."
Thane stepped forward and bowed. "Uncle!"
"Oh, hush," Lord Merlion said, cuffing him lightly on the head. "You did fine holding the line, boy."
Then he turned to Kesca and placed a firm hand on her shoulder.
"Day one was a storm. But you weathered it." His gaze shifted to the horizon, where the faintest glimmer of gold had begun to edge the dark. "And you won't have to face day two alone."
Behind him, new banners had begun rising. Reinforcements.
"Help has arrived."
From the shadowed edge of camp, three figures stepped into the firelight.
Their presence was immediate—like a ripple through the very air. Soldiers fell silent. Some instinct deeper than sight or sound told them these men weren't ordinary.
Power. The kind that made veterans stiffen and green recruits step back.
Lord Merlion raised a hand. "Aqua Marshal Kesca," he said with a smirk, "meet my personal guards."
The three stopped a few paces from her, then bowed low.
"We're at your service now," one of them said, voice calm but sharp as steel. "Aqua Marshal Kesca."
Kesca glanced at her father. His arms were crossed, pride written plainly on his face—rare for him. This wasn't just an offering. It was trust.
He exhaled. "Seems my work here is done. I trust you'll finish this war quickly—before the king notices anything."
"Bisky," Lord Merlion said without turning, "fetch my ride."
"Yes, Milord."
A few moments later, the faint whinny of a warhorse echoed from the eastern end of camp.
Lord Merlion adjusted his cloak, eyes still on the horizon. "Good luck, Kesca."
Then he was gone, leaving only silence, three shadows behind, and the weight of what was coming.
Kesca's eyes narrowed as she studied the trio standing before her.
'Can they really handle those monsters?' she wondered.
Her gaze drifted toward the distant flame behind enemy lines—far beyond the field, where a shimmering barrier marked the Costamado army's position. The enemy was still holding strong. Too strong.
Cassius stood beside the flames, untouched, seemingly bored.
"Well, it looks like everything's under control," he said calmly.
Dante sat nearby, leaning against a broken cart, still healing from his duel. His expression was strained, but determined. "Yeah... at this pace, we'll win by tomorrow."
Cassius glanced at him. "You think Lord Merlion's planning something?"
Dante winced, shifted, then replied, "Doesn't matter if he is. I'm planning to finish this tomorrow, with or without him."
He looked at Cassius and smirked. "And you? If the leader of the guild doesn't start pulling his weight, how are you gonna earn your pay?"
Cassius sighed. "Fine, fine."
Dante's voice turned serious. "We have to end it before the King finds out—"
"I know," Cassius interrupted.
Meanwhile, inside the palace of Starglade...
"Jeshur," King Darrios called from his throne, "Rethrus still hasn't returned?"
"I'm afraid not, Your Majesty," Jeshur replied.
The King's jaw clenched. "What is that kid doing? Does he plan to live in Aurelia? He even made Takashi wait here."
He stood abruptly. "Write to Aurelia, Jeshur."
"Right away, my King," Jeshur said with a bow and left the room.
"Tsk. Kids these days. Spoil them too much and they forget who raised them."
From the shadow of the hall, Takashi laughed as he stepped forward. "Well, you did spoil your favorite son, King Darrios."
The King gave a half-grin. "He's special, Takashi."
Takashi nodded. "More than special. Wise for his age. A magic prodigy. Good at reading people. His mana pool's absurd. If we were the same age, he'd beat the hell out of me."
The King's eyes gleamed with pride. "That's our chosen one." "Anyone else like him in Avaloria?"
"No one," Takashi replied. "We have someone who's par with Aethra , but Rethrus… his intellect, his command of magic, and his natural leadership? He's already acting like a high-ranking officer."
"My King… I can't contact Aurelia."
"What?" the King growled. "Tsk. Damnit."
"Send for Slade. Have him fly to Aurelia immediately."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The King paced, frustrated. "Some provinces still refuse to swear loyalty… now this? Rethrus out of contact? What the hell is happening in Aurelia?"
Back in Aurelia.
The night was thick with silence when a lone chariot rolled up to the gates of the Frings Estate. Shadows danced along the torch-lit walls as two guards stepped forward, spears crossed.
"Halt!" one barked. "State your business."
The man driving the chariot slowly pulled back his hood, revealing a calm smile beneath dark robes.
"I'm Kaeli," he said. "From the Black Dragon Guild." He reached into his sleeve and presented a gleaming badge. "Here under direct orders from Guild Master Cassius—to deliver personal provisions for our members stationed here."
The guard squinted at the badge, then nodded. "Alright... mind if we check the cart?"
"Be my guest," Kaeli said casually.
One of the guards moved to the back, pulling aside a tarp. Boxes stacked tightly. Sealed crates. Rations. Dried herbs. Bottled water.
Just... supplies.
"All clear," the guard said.
"You may pass," the other added, stepping aside.
Kaeli flicked the reins, and the chariot rolled past the gates into the heart of the estate.
As they cleared earshot, Kaeli leaned back slightly and whispered, "We're in."
Beneath the tarp, two faint outlines shimmered into being—Rethrus and Gerard, cloaked in invisibility magic. The moment the cart entered the inner estate, the spell began to fade.
Gerard was trembling, his breath shallow. Rethrus felt the chill in the air bite harder than ever.
This is it.