With practiced precision, the knights surged forward from three directions, their disciplined charge catching the cultists completely by surprise. The synchronized movements broke off abruptly, but instead of confused panic, the Masked Ones turned with that same mechanical precision, forming defensive lines with unnatural coordination.
From their position near the entrance, Kazuki and Reina watched the chaos unfold. The knights moved with impressive coordination, their training evident in every strike and parry. The Masked Ones fought back with a silent, machine-like efficiency that was somehow more terrifying than battle cries or screams of pain. Many produced wicked curved daggers from within their robes, while others moved with bare hands, using their bodies as weapons with no regard for self-preservation.
"We need to help that woman," Kazuki said urgently, nodding toward the victim on the altar. The five senior cultists had closed ranks around her, protecting whatever ritual they had been performing from interruption.
Reina nodded grimly. "You're right. But we can't just rush in—look."
She pointed to a raised platform near one wall of the cavern, where a dozen metal cages had been arranged in rows. Each contained huddled figures—more captives, waiting their turn for whatever terrible fate the cultists had planned.
"Those people need help too," she continued. "They look terrified."
Before they could decide on a course of action, the tide of battle shifted. The knights had eliminated many of the outer ring cultists, but now faced more organized resistance from those nearer the center.
The central figure with ten rings—clearly the leader—made a sudden, precise gesture. The rings on his right hand glowed with five different colors simultaneously, and the air before him shimmered as intricate sigils began to form, hanging suspended like luminous script. The other four senior cultists had positioned themselves at equidistant points around the altar, creating a protective formation.
"Transcription magic," Reina gasped. "He's using artificial spell casting to generate complex incantations almost instantly. That's incredibly dangerous—and forbidden by the Arcane Accords."
"What does that mean for us?" Kazuki asked, watching as the floating symbols multiplied rapidly.
"It means we're facing someone with extraordinary power," she replied grimly. "Original Spells require talent and training, but they follow natural laws. Transcription magic circumvents those laws—it's like forcing reality to bow to written commands. Only the most skilled practitioners can control it without catastrophic backlash."
Regulus had evidently recognized the danger as well. He directed a squad of knights to engage the ordinary Masked Ones while he personally charged toward the leader, others breaking away to follow him.
"I'll go for the prisoners," Kazuki decided quickly. "My phasing ability might let me reach them without crossing the worst of the fighting. Can you help Regulus and Valerius against that mage?"
Reina's eyes showed concern behind her mask, but she nodded resolutely. "Be careful, Kazuki. Keep your mask sealed at all times."
"I will," he replied, already moving along the perimeter of the chamber, trying to stay behind cover whenever possible. His lack of combat training was actually an advantage in one respect—the cultists focused their attention on the knights, largely ignoring the unarmed figure making his way toward the prisoner cages.
Reina moved in the opposite direction, her hands already weaving complex patterns as she prepared a water spell. The blue stone in her ring pulsed with increasing brightness as she drew moisture from the very air around her, forming attack spells unlike anything Kazuki had seen before.
Meanwhile, Regulus had reached the central platform, his sword clashing against magical barriers erected by the ring-bearing leader. The symbols floating around the cultist shifted constantly, rearranging themselves into new patterns that produced different magical effects—shields, energy projectiles, fields of slowing force that made Regulus's movements sluggish and imprecise.
"Azazel!" Regulus shouted, recognizing the cultist despite his mask. "By the authority of Azure and the Light of Azuria, I place you under arrest for crimes against humanity and violations of the Arcane Accords!"
The cultist—Azazel—made no verbal response, but the symbols around him flared brighter, forming into a complex sigil that unleashed a blast of concussive force. Regulus barely managed to brace himself, his boots sliding backward across the stone as his armor absorbed the worst of the impact.
Valerius attacked from the flank, trying to exploit Azazel's focus on Regulus, but with a casual flick of his left hand, Azazel activated another set of rings. A new series of symbols appeared, sending Valerius flying backward into a stone column with bruising force.
Regulus pressed forward relentlessly, forcing Azazel to divide his attention. The cultist's movements were becoming less precise, his transcriptions showing subtle errors that betrayed his growing fatigue. Eight rings remained on his fingers—three on his injured left hand, five on his right—but maintaining control over so many simultaneous spells was clearly taking its toll.