Previously
The next moment, the ground beneath them shook violently as Sophie and Amelia poured everything they had into the spell. Vines erupted with even greater force, and the sky itself darkened with the weight of the magic. It was a final effort—one that would either break the horde or break them.
And as the beasts continued their relentless charge, the battle raged on.
******************************************************
The beasts slammed against the wall of thorns and vines, their shrieks filling the air as the enchanted plants lashed out, wrapping around limbs, snapping bones, and dragging the creatures into the earth. Yet for every monster that fell, two more seemed to take its place, clawing and roaring, fueled by some unseen frenzy.
Amelia gulped.
'Killing a Behemoth is easy, but not when hundreds of monsters are rushing at us.'
She glanced at the struggling Behemoth, its long tusks covered in blood, trunk skewered by thorns and ice.
'We can't disturb the mountain's eco-system.'
Her gaze flickered towards a sheet of steel sparkling in the daylight.
She hesitantly held the card. The everchanging streams of numbers and formulas flowed throughout the display.
"Sophie…" she muttered to Sophie, showing her the card.
A wave of realization washed over Sophie as she held out her card.
FSSHH!
As the women poured mana into the cards, fizzling sounds emerged as the cards lifted up with an ethereal glow.
WHOOSH!
The cards flew out into the sky. Their size expanded until they looked like doors made of a sheet of metal. Numbers and codes ran rampant-
Coordinates: α-90… β-63 … γ-75… δ-28
CONNECTING- 49%
As the numbers died out, the cards' lustre dulled, until-
CRACK!
Cracks appeared from the edges, flowing like a river to the centre.
BREAK!
The cards broke in a thousand pieces, leaving a black rift in their wake. The distorted space levitated in the cards position like a void in the perfect sky.
A moment of silence.
Then-
SKREEEEE!
Wyverns appeared from one rift. Five of them, one after another.
HSSSSSSS!
From the other rift, a gigantic lindwyrm slithered. The lindwyrm was a towering, serpentine beast, with a long, coiled body covered in jagged scales, two clawed forelimbs, tattered wings too small for true flight, and a horned, draconic head crowned with glinting eyes full of ancient hunger.
The beast coiled around the area, making its body a line of defence. Its jaw opened to a pair of huge venomous fangs. The monsters flinched. Their siege faltered.
The wyverns circled around the area. Scooping to eat random monsters. One of them swooped in front of the behemoth. Its purple scale brushing the vines and shards of ice.
'What are you doing here, you overgrown elephant!' the wyvern screeched.
The behemoth jerked, its body stumbling slightly. It glanced around the area.
'Huh, where am I?' It glanced at Wyvern who blinked at him in disbelief.
'Are you a birdbrain?'
'Wouldn't that be you?'
BONK!
The wyvern lightly bonked the behemoth's head with its tail.
'Just go back, you…. Empty brain.'
The behemoth turned to leave.
BRUUUUUMMM!
'Sayonara, bird brain.'
The ground shook as the behemoth turned its stride towards the mountains. The wyverns looked back at Amelia and Sophie with an unbothered blink.
RAAAWWWK!
The other monsters turned back at the wyvern's roar. They rushed towards the mountains, running away from the predators that blocked their assault.
As the horde disappeared, the wyverns flew back to the rift, the tear closing instantly after.
RUSTLE!
The lindwyrm unfurled. It rolled out its serpentine tongue. A parchment fell to the ground. Sophie hesitantly picked it up. As she unfolded the parchment a runic sentence awaited her.
[Raho vha rala zha-en.]
Sophie looked up but the beast was nowhere to be seen and so was the rift he came from.
"What is written there?" Amelia peeked over Sophie's shoulder, curious.
"I don't know, probably something in the language of beasts." Sophie shrugged.
THIUD!
Sophie and Amelia slumped to the wooden floor.
"Cinnamon Roll was right." Sophie sighed.
Amelia nodded in response, "Let's hope the shadows do their job."
Somewhere else, cries of pain echoed in a dark passage.
Location- Duskrane Dungeon, Duskrane County
"Aack!... How dare you treat a fourth circle mage like this?" Alrik grumbled as the soldiers pushed him towards the cold stone floor of the dusty prison cell. The other templar mages followed after him.
Two guards strode forward, a pair of black handcuffs clinking in their gauntlets.
"H-Hey, take these off this instant!" a mage shrieked, his hands scarred by the cuffs, a rash spreading across his skin.
A few moments later…
CREAK!
The iron door groaned open, and an old man in a pink suit gleefully clapped his hands. A devilish grin spread across his face.
"Ooh! What fresh goods!" His fingers idly traced his ragged beard.
Without warning, his hand coiled around Alrik's chin, pulling his face toward him.
"I'm sorry, dear," he whispered in Alrik's ear.
FLICK!
TAP! TAP!
In an instant, the old man struck Alrik at multiple joints and pressure points. Alrik's breath hitched, his body faltering against the wall, unable to lift a finger.
"I've blocked his mana veins and nerves," the man explained to the guards with a quirky smile.
He turned back to the mages, who were struggling in vain to move their limbs. Muffled groans escaped their lips—a failed attempt to escape the devil in pink.
Location- Outskirts of Drakengard, the Capital of Fafnir Empire
Date- 10th, Month of Zephyris, 2012 A.G.
A group of robed figures rushed through the green forest canopy, their silver armor faintly gleaming whenever the robes parted, revealing glimpses of their shining attire.
THUMP!
The horses skidded to a halt, their hooves scraping the earth. Armored men dismounted with practiced precision, standing before a towering wall. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, wood, grass, and stone.
A robed figure pushed back his hood, revealing a brown ponytail that rested on his shoulder. His golden eyes locked onto the knight before him.
"I greet the Duke of the North, Alexander Leonhart," the knight said, bowing respectfully.
Alexander chuckled, his smile as refreshing as a breeze. Women flocked to him in the capital, and their mansion would soon be bombarded with love letters from noble ladies. Sophie would burn each one she found, tossing them into the street without a second thought.
"Very well," Alexander replied.
"Let's go, Kayden," he said, glancing at the ashen knight behind him. The men mounted their horses and rode through the city gates, passing the massive doors with ease
The city of Drakengard unfolded like a fairy tale. In contrast to the mysterious Duskrane, the tactical Tigranclaw, or the humble Leonhart, Drakengard screamed wealth and glory. Beautiful houses, ornate mansions, and lavish villas dotted the landscape, visible beyond the bustling market.
The people of Drakengard carried on with their daily activities, until—
CLACK! CLACK!
Alexander entered the city. Heads turned, gasps escaped, and hands flew to cover mouths. The crowd surged toward him like ants drawn to sugar.
"It's Duke Leonhart!" a woman shrieked.
"Duke Leonhart!" a man screamed.
"Duke Leonhart!"
"Duke Leonhart!"
"Duke Leonhart!" The cheers flooded the market.
Alexander waved in response, greeting the crowd with equal warmth and joy as they parted to make way for him.
Kayden caught up to him. "Our men and horses need a break."
A sigh escaped Alexander's parted lips. "Alright, take my stallion too."
Kayden nodded curtly and retreated.
THUMP!
Alexander leaped from the saddle. The people gathered around him, close but careful not to touch.
"I am sorry, dear citizens of the empire," Alexander raised his hand, his voice calm but firm.
"But I need a carriage to Draken Palace—urgently."
A murmur rippled through the crowd, their gazes flickering between one another.
"Someone, bring a carriage! Quickly!" a man shouted.
A few men hurried to their wagons, pulling them forward. Within moments, a line of carriages stood ready before him.
Alexander scanned each one carefully. Most looked the same, but one caught his eye—a carriage driven by a middle-aged woman, her face marked by years of hard work, but her eyes bright with a quiet strength.
'Hmm…' Alexander thought, fingers absently tapping his chin.
"Thank you, kind folk," he said aloud, his voice smooth as he strode toward the woman's carriage. "I am most grateful for your generosity."
The crowd's whispers grew louder as Alexander climbed into the carriage, some women swooning at the sight of him.
The woman driving the carriage smiled warmly as he settled inside.
"Please, sit comfortably, sir." Her voice was soft but filled with respect.
Alexander leaned back, but then, with a slight frown, he glanced at her.
"Please, don't call me that… older sister."
The woman froze, her grip tightening on the reins as a tear welled in her eye.
Alexander's gaze softened. "What happened? Why are you upset?"
The woman quickly wiped away the tear, but Alexander saw it. She cleared her throat before answering. "It's nothing, my lord… I was reminded of my younger brother."
"Younger brother?" Alexander stayed still for a moment, his gaze fixed on the woman.
"What happened to your younger brother?"
Tears welled up in her eyes, trembling on the edge of spilling. Her voice cracked, as if the words themselves caused her pain.
"He was enlisted in the army five years ago, for the war..." Her voice faltered.
Alexander's expression softened, his gaze flickering from the woman to the surroundings, his mind quietly processing. Then, his eyes landed on the woman's hand, where a simple, plain ring rested on her ring finger.
Realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. His voice was softer when he spoke again, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.
"Your younger brother... and your husband—are they martyrs?" Silence hung in the air.
"Yes, my lord." the woman replied, lips trembling.
Alexander arched his brow, pieces began to click.
'Martyrs, middle aged woman, driving a carriage- a male dominated profession.'
"Were you provided with appropriate support from the empire?" Alexander's voice showed concern.
The woman trembled, her grip loosening, then tightening again. Her voice cracked as she spoke the words, hesitating at first
.
"N-No… The official said my husband and brother were killed while trying to flee the battlefield." She hung her head, a quiet shame in her posture.
"S-So—" Before Alexander could finish, the woman's voice pitched higher, as though the pain had pushed her past the breaking point.
"M-My lord, they were not cowards! They wouldn't run from the enemy." Tears welled up in her eyes, tracing lines down her pale face. Her legs stiffened, as if bracing for something. "T-They loved their country. My brother was the first to volunteer for the enlistment camp. My husband—he never hesitated. They would never turn their backs on their nation."
She lifted her gaze to Alexander, her eyes swollen and red with grief. "They were not cowards!" she cried, her voice full of raw, desperate conviction. Hiccups escaped her throat, tears blurring her vision.
"Elder sister," Alexander said softly, his gaze steady as it met hers. "Visit the Leonhart Mansion tomorrow. I swear on my name, you will get justice."
The woman blinked, as if the weight of his words was sinking in. She wiped away the tears that had begun to fall again, her hands trembling. With a soft nod, she murmured, "Thank you, my lord."
Her voice, though weak, carried a quiet hope that hadn't been there before.
CLACK! CLACK!
The carriage came to a gentle stop before the towering golden gates of Draken Palace, the heart of the empire's power. The palace, with its golden marble walls and sweeping arches, seemed to shimmer under the midday sun, an emblem of the empire's might.
Alexander stepped down from the carriage, glancing at the driver before turning to the lady who had accompanied him. His hand slipped into his coat pocket, fingers brushing against a copper coin as he searched for the fare.
"How much is the fare, sister?" he asked kindly, his tone soft yet firm.
The lady, standing tall and proud despite the rags of a commoner, crossed her arms with a knowing look. "How can I take your money, my lord?"
Alexander smiled, amusement glimmering in his eyes. "And what is your name, elder sister?"
"Annabeth Adler, my lord," she replied, bowing with grace. Her voice held a note of warmth, though there was a faint touch of hesitation.
"Please, do visit the Leonhart Mansion when you have time, Lady Adler," Alexander added, his gaze lingering just a moment longer.
The woman nodded respectfully, and with a final look at Alexander, she stepped back as the carriage rolled forward.
Turning toward the looming gates of Draken Palace, Alexander's expression shifted to one of quiet resolve. "Now," he murmured to himself, stepping forward, "let's see what this day brings."