Draven moved like a shadow slicing through torchlight.
The first knight never saw him clearly.
There was only a blur—
A flash of steel descending toward his head.
Draven raised his hand and caught the blade mid-swing. Metal shrieked against his palm. In the same motion, he stepped inward, twisted his torso beneath the knight's guard, and wrenched the weapon free.
Before the man could react, Draven reversed the grip and drew the edge cleanly across his throat.
Blood sprayed in a sharp arc.
The slime atop Draven's head flicked outward briefly.
"Glurp."
Draven did not pause to watch the body fall.
A second knight lunged from the side, sword thrusting toward his ribs.
Draven stepped inside the strike, closing distance instead of retreating. His hand clamped around the man's wrist—
A sharp crack split the air as bone snapped.
He pivoted smoothly, dragging the collapsing knight forward and guiding the falling blade across the abdomen of a third attacker rushing in.
Steel parted armor at the seams.
The third knight staggered, entrails spilling as Draven released the second without a glance.
He flowed through them.
No wasted motion.
No theatrics.
Only efficiency.
A spear thrust toward his back—
Draven leaned forward just enough for the tip to graze past his cloak. His hand shot backward, catching the shaft mid-strike. He yanked hard, dragging the wielder off balance—
Then drove the splintered end upward.
Straight through the knight's skull.
The body dropped instantly.
Draven let it fall.
Around the square, chaos spread like wildfire.
Above—
Aldric no longer stood on the ground.
Mana surged around him in violent waves, thick and oppressive, warping the air itself. The crimson aura wrapped around the disguised cultist as well, lifting both of them into the sky.
Dark wings tore outward from Aldric's back—massive, bat-like, leathery and veined with faint red light. They stretched wide as he ascended.
His laughter echoed faintly across the battlefield.
Blood constructs formed around him in increasing numbers—spears, curved blades, jagged shards—swirling in orbit like a lethal halo.
He raised a hand toward the nearest airship.
"Let's see how tough you are."
The constructs launched.
They streaked upward in crimson streaks—
And slammed into the vessel.
A translucent barrier flared into existence around the hull at the moment of impact. The shield rippled violently, absorbing the force, but it did not shatter.
Aldric clicked his tongue.
"Oh?"
The airship retaliated immediately.
Mana cannons lining its sides hummed to life, their cores blazing bright.
They fired.
Blinding beams and explosive bolts rained down toward him.
Aldric extended one hand lazily.
A thick crimson barrier formed around himself and the cultist, layered and dense, shimmering like hardened coagulated glass.
The bombardment struck.
Explosions detonated midair in rapid succession, lighting the sky in violent bursts of orange and electric blue.
The barrier trembled—
But held.
Within the protective sphere, the cultist remained silent, her disguised face calm as her eyes tracked every movement.
Aldric smirked.
"That's more like it."
Below, Draven slit another knight's throat and stepped over the collapsing body, red eyes lifting briefly toward the chaos above.
The distraction was loud.
Messy.
Perfect.
The town had fully descended into war.
Above the burning rooftops—
New figures rose into the sky.
Robed.
Hovering.
Mana circles spinning beneath their boots in intricate geometric arrays.
"Mages!" a knight shouted from below.
The robed figures spread out in disciplined formation around Aldric, careful to keep distance from his blood constructs.
One lifted his staff high.
A blazing sigil flared above him.
"Firestorm!"
A spiraling torrent of flames erupted forward, twisting into a massive vortex that roared toward Aldric, heat distorting the air in its wake.
Another extended both hands.
"Glacial Bind!"
Spears of ice formed instantly midair—long, crystalline, razor-sharp—and launched in rapid succession, targeting not only Aldric but the cultist within his barrier.
A third mage completed a complex array beneath his feet.
Lightning gathered overhead, clouds tearing open as energy condensed into a blinding focal point.
The sky cracked.
A bolt of white-blue thunder descended like divine judgment.
Aldric's red eyes gleamed brighter.
"Oh, now this is interesting."
The crimson barrier thickened as the firestorm slammed into it, flames exploding outward in spirals of heat and smoke.
Ice spears shattered against the surface, fragments scattering like frozen rain across the rooftops below.
The lightning bolt struck dead center.
The barrier trembled violently.
For a brief second—
It dimmed.
Inside, the cultist's eyes widened faintly.
Below, knights shielded themselves from falling debris as heat waves rippled through the streets.
Aldric grinned wider, fangs flashing.
"So you brought toys."
He flexed his fingers.
The blood constructs orbiting him shifted shape.
No longer simple spears.
They elongated.
Curved.
Compressed into spinning drills of hardened crimson mana, layered and rotating with violent torque.
"Let's raise the stakes."
With a sweeping motion of his arm—
The drills launched, screaming toward the mages.
The sky became a collision of elements and blood.
Flame against crimson.
Lightning against hardened mana.
Ice against spinning destruction.
And then—
A silver arc flashed.
Clean.
Precise.
Every blood construct in its path split apart instantly, severed so cleanly they dissolved into harmless crimson mist before detonation.
A figure descended from above, landing lightly on a rooftop before launching himself forward again in a controlled burst of mana.
He wore polished silver armor etched with the royal insignia. A long navy cloak flowed behind him. In his hand rested a single-edged blade humming faintly with compressed energy.
He stepped into the air as though it were solid ground.
His name was **Commander Caelum Viremont**.
Sixth-Star Mana Knight.
Sword Master.
Steel-gray eyes surveyed the battlefield without emotion.
He stopped midair, blade resting loosely at his side.
Aldric tilted his head.
"…Oh?"
A low chuckle escaped him.
"So first you send a bunch of Third Circle mages to test the waters…"
His red wings flexed once.
"And now you finally send someone who can actually fight."
Caelum did not respond.
His gaze flicked briefly toward the cultist within Aldric's barrier.
Then returned to Aldric.
Mana condensed around his blade—thin, focused, impossibly dense.
Aldric's smirk widened.
More blood constructs formed around him—thicker, heavier, layered with reinforced mana channels.
Without hesitation, he launched them all.
They tore through the air in a unified barrage.
Caelum moved.
Not hurried.
Not exaggerated.
One measured step forward in midair—
His blade swung in a clean horizontal arc.
Every construct it touched split perfectly in half. Their internal mana matrices were severed before they could destabilize.
He twisted through the dissolving crimson mist—
And in a blink—
He was in front of Aldric.
The sword descended.
It struck the crimson barrier with devastating precision.
The impact exploded outward in a shockwave that rippled across the night sky.
The barrier fractured instantly.
Cracks spread across its surface like shattered glass.
Aldric's smile faltered—just slightly.
"…Now that's interesting."
The blade pressed deeper.
The air itself trembled under the pressure.
Below, even Draven paused for half a heartbeat, crimson eyes lifting toward the sky—
As the true battle began.