Flames curled from the edges of wooden buildings, smoke choking the streets.
The Captain and Titus moved like shadows through the chaos, blades flashing and fists striking with deadly precision.
A soldier lunged at the Captain with a steel-tipped spear—he twisted, caught the spear with his forearm, and swept the soldier off his feet with a sharp kick.
Another enemy charged from the side; Titus met him head-on, spinning and landing a punch that sent the man crashing into a cart.
From the center of the plaza.
Platius eyes gleamed beneath his black hair, and a cruel smile spread across his face.
"Oh… I see some interesting guests," he called, voice cutting through the din of battle.
"Soldiers! Attack them!"
Platius raised his sword, its edge glinting like midnight.
"Captain! I know it's you. And for you and your little friends, I have prepared a gift ."
The Captain's jaw tightened mid-combat.
Blades clashed around him as he slashed through two advancing soldiers, parrying a third strike with a flick of his wrist.
His gaze flicked to Titus, who was equally relentless, weaving through enemies like a storm.
What… how does he know we'd be here? the Captain thought, feeling a chill run down his spine.
A soldier leapt at him from above, but he rolled under the swing, drove a sharp elbow into the man's chest, and kicked him into a stall.
Another enemy tried to flank Titus, only to be met with a spinning roundhouse that sent him sprawling across the cobblestones.
Platius laughed, the sound sharp and unnerving.
"Come! Show me if you're as strong as they say!"
The plaza became a whirlwind of movement—flames flickered, steel rang, and dust and debris swirled around the two captains as they pushed forward, fighting not just for themselves, but for the trapped citizens encircled by the Black Lotus.
Platius also joined the fight.
Platius didn't hold back. His sword cut through Wustania soldiers with deadly precision, turning the center of the plaza into a chaotic battlefield.
Sparks flew as steel met steel, screams echoed, and the air thickened with smoke and dust.
The fight had become a full-scale war in the heart of the city.
Meanwhile, on the other side of Quil City, the Jester moved swiftly with Mosin, weaving through side streets and alleys until they reached a small, secluded corner.
"Stay here until everything is settled," the Jester instructed, voice low but tinged with amusement.
Mosin nodded, eyes wide but trusting.
The Jester crouched slightly, drawing his double dagger with a flourish.
A small, mischievous laugh escaped his lips.
"Now… it's time for some fun," he murmured, eyes glinting under the lantern light.
Mosin's voice was cautious.
"Be careful."
The Jester waved a hand dismissively, a confident smirk spreading across his face.
"Don't worry… do you really think anyone can defeat me that easily?"
With that, he started to run toward the center too.
The Jester darted through the crowded streets, enemies swarming from every direction.
His double daggers flashed like silver streaks, cutting through anyone who dared approach.
All the while, a wide grin played across his face.
"It's not like I get to experience this much as a spy," he said, voice carrying a hint of amusement.
"Why shouldn't I enjoy a little?"
He laughed lightly, the sound mingling with the clashing of steel and the cries of his foes.
Each movement was fluid, almost playful, yet deadly — a blur of speed, precision, and calculated chaos.
The city around him became a stage, the enemies mere props for his performance, as he danced through the alleys with terrifying grace.
The Jester reached the center of the city and caught sight of the Captain and Titus locked in combat with enemy soldiers.
"I'm here, Captain!" he called, voice carrying across the chaos.
The Captain glanced at him but said nothing, eyes fixed on his foes.
The Jester's lips curved into a fond, almost teasing smile.
Oh yeah… this man… I love him so much… — his thought cut short as a sharp attack came from behind.
Platius had struck.
The Jester twisted and dodged gracefully, rolling to a safe distance.
"Oh? So there's a coward here too," he said, laughing lightly.
Platius smirked.
"You're no ordinary fool, yet I don't have any information about you."
The Jester's grin widened.
"And you… a coward from birth. You didn't even consider me a threat, yet here you are, attacking from behind."
Platius's eyes darkened.
"Why not? It's war. I can strike anyone."
With that, he lunged, blades flashing, aiming straight at the Jester.
Platius lunged, sword cutting a silver streak through the air.
Jester twisted back, boots skidding across the stone, daggers flashing under the flickering light.
"Oh, so you're just gonna attack me right away?" he said with a crooked grin. "You're no fun at all!"
Platius' smirk deepened.
"I don't think I have much time to waste on a joker."
Their blades met with a thunderous clang.
Sparks burst between them. A flurry followed — a parry, a twist, a sidestep, a spin.
Jester moved like liquid, daggers tracing arcs of light, while Platius cut through the air with relentless precision.
Jester ducked under a slash, his heel sweeping the ground.
Platius leapt back, sword cutting downward with a sharp hiss — but Jester flipped over it, landing gracefully, daggers crossed.
"You're good," Platius muttered, eyes narrowing with faint amusement.
"Khe khe khe…" Jester chuckled, his grin widening.
"Oh, thank you!"
He lunged again — twin daggers flashing, a storm of steel and laughter.
Slash. Spin. Kick. Dodge.
Each attack met another, sparks flying as steel scraped steel, tearing through the smoke and dust of the burning street.
Debris scattered around them, their movements blurring with speed. Neither could land a solid hit.
Then, as the sound of their blades rang through the chaos, Platius straightened slightly, his smirk returning.
"We've played long enough," he said softly, his tone turning cold.
"Let's end this."
Jester's grin sharpened. "Don't underestimate me!" he roared, blood pumping, and dashed forward — his daggers crossing in a deadly arc toward Platius' chest.
But in that instant — Platius vanished.
Jester's eyes widened. "What—where—"
A searing pain ripped through him before he could finish.
A deep wound opened across his chest, blood spilling from it as his breath caught.
A deep wound tore across his chest, and blood gushed out as his breath caught.
Pain flared through him like fire — the world dimmed, his strength slipping away.
He stumbled forward, clutching the wound, and collapsed as blood spread beneath him.
"This," he said softly, "is what a real fight looks like, you fool."
Jester's vision blurred, breath shallow. His smirk wavered — but didn't fade.
"I'm… not dead yet…" he whispered.
"Yes, yes… I like you," he said with a sinister grin, his sword dripping faintly with Jester's blood.
"But I don't think you can fight any longer."
Before Jester could react, Platius vanished again — disappearing from his sight like a flicker of shadow.
Jester's eyes widened. again?!
A sharp clang! exploded behind him — the sound of steel clashing against steel.
Jester turned instantly, his eyes flashing wide in shock.
Platius' blade was inches away from his neck—but it was stopped mid-strike.
Sparks scattered through the air like fireflies as two powerful swords locked.
Titus stood there, his expression calm but eyes burning with fury, his blade pressed firmly against Platius'.
"Enough," Titus said coldly, pushing Platius back with sheer strength.
Platius slid back, smiling.
"Oh… another strong one?"
Jester, bleeding heavily, looked shocked and dropped to one knee, pressing his hand against the wound on his chest as blood seeped through his fingers.
His breathing grew uneven, eyes struggling to stay open.
Titus didn't look back. His sword gleamed under the smoke-lit sky.
"Stay down, Jester," he said quietly.
"This one's mine now."
Platius tilted his head, a sly grin curling on his lips.
"Oh, I know you… you were on that list. You're Titus, right?"
Titus narrowed his eyes.
"What list?"
Platius chuckled darkly, his figure blurring for a split second.
"You don't need to know."
Before the words had even faded, Platius lunged forward—his blade cutting through the air with deadly precision.
Titus met him head-on, steel clashing against steel with a thunderous clang! Sparks scattered between them as their swords locked.
Platius spun to the side, slashing upward.
Titus parried, twisted his wrist, and countered with a quick downward strike, forcing Platius a step back.
The two moved like shadows, blades ringing in a deadly rhythm, neither gaining ground.
Platius grinned wider.
"Oh, not bad… you're at least better than that joker."
Titus didn't answer.
His blade lowered slightly, breath steady, eyes fixed.
But deep inside, a cold thought crept into his mind—
This one is dangerous… can I even win against him?
The wind blew between them, carrying the smell of smoke and blood.
Both warriors stood still—eyes locked, blades ready—
as the city burned behind them.