Chapter 264: The Die is Cast (2)
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Chapter 264: The Die is Cast (2)
Rutben Citadel, a city in the furthermost eastern part of Andras Empire, was already fortified against invasion. Its walls, which were over forty meters tall, had been steadily constructed higher over the centuries. They even had anti-magic barriers and anti magic bomb measures. Meltor had tried to destroy them numerous times in the past, but they had always taken heavy damage and were forced to retreat.
However, this time, uninvited guests were visiting Rutben. A few hundred meters away from the walls, ten magicians were poised in the shadows. They were an elite unit of the White Tower, directly trained and commanded by White Tower Master Orta who stood in front, clad in a black mask. SInce they were all secret agents, they too had similar masks on their faces.
- Stop.?
Orta suddenly stopped ahead of them.
- From here onward, keep your shields up. We are two hundred meters from Rutben’s walls and watchtowers, so keep your magic power sealed. If you can’t get past the walls and get caught, don’t await my instructions and prioritize escape.
The magicians nodded, and Orta gestured as he murmured a spell. It seemed to be his own unique spell.
Rutben’s defensive arsenal was truly exquisite, as expected of an Andras fortress. If it hadn’t been for Orta, even the elite agents of the White Tower would be detected before getting past one wall, and they were likely to be killed immediately.
Wuuong...
A moment later, a hemispherical haze formed around the magicians, centered around Orta.
- Go.
The ten magicians slipped closer to the walls, intent on their infiltration.
This was the White Tower’s role on the battlefield.
If Veronica was the hammer that could annihilate an army, the White Tower magicians were the assassins who would silence enemies before they even appeared on the battlefield. They slipped past defenses and weakened them from the inside.
Their mission this time was to assassinate Rutben’s general and elite knights. The loss of the senior command would leave them defenseless against a magical assault. It was a tactic that had failed a few times in the past, but Meltor had learned from their failures.
Seuk.
The moment they arrived at the base of the wall, Orta held up a hand, and the magicians gathered around him. No matter how well trained they were, the magicians couldn’t climb a forty meter tall wall.
So, Orta had personally come to Rutben. As he continued to conceal their presence, he activated another spell. It was normally not possible for a magician to cast spells simultaneously like this, but Orta was different. The magicians slowly rose into the air.
Ohh! There is no alarm from Rutben...
As expected of the Tower Master. There is no end to what he can do.
Andras would never expect something so ridiculous either.
Of course, they didn’t say a word aloud, but their thoughts were clear from their attitude.
The impregnable fortress, Rutben Citadel...
For the first time in history, they had found an opportunity to break it. Even the normally calm agents couldn’t help but grow excited. Nevertheless, they were professional agents. It only took them a moment to slip back into the proper mindset. By the time they slipped past the third wall, they were treating the mission as any other. Private feelings were mere obstacles to the mission’s performance.
Ten pairs of feet landed gently on the ground, and blended into the shadows of the city. They had infiltrated without a sound. The unit that was feared as The Phantom by Andras had finally infiltrated the fortified city!
- Assassinate the lord first. Then, neutralize the military officers, knights, and communication facilities. Don’t relax just because we’ve crossed the wall. If things were this easy, the war would’ve ended a long time ago.
The nine members of his unit each laid a hand on their chest, signaling agreement. Satisfied, Orta started to make his way toward a mansion in the distance, Rutben Castle. His intelligence team had informed him that the only thing to be careful of was the silent alarm in the bedroom. It should be child’s play to take the lord’s life.
They slipped past another security checkpoint and moved through the empty city in the middle of the night. From the outskirts of the city to the lord’s residence―
Hmm?
Orta felt something strange. It wasn’t strange that no alarm rang due to his magic, but...
The odd thing was inside Rutben.
We haven’t seen a single patrol?
Orta hated to admit it, but Andras was strong. Their knights and soldiers were well trained and disciplined. Rutben was also one of the main fortresses of Andras. It wouldn’t be weird to have patrols in five-minute intervals even at the outskirts of the fortress city. However, despite being so close to the lord’s residence, it was definitely out of character that they hadn’t encountered a single patrol.
Orta hastily subvocalized an order.
- All members, pull... n0VeLuSb.c0M
But he was too late.
“You noticed quickly, rat.” A man emerged from thin air.
.
“DODGE!” Orta shouted instinctively, but he couldn’t be faster than the blade.
A blood-red aura appeared in the air.
Fermut Style, Refraction Sword.
It didn’t look like the trajectory of a sword. The aura was shimmering like a mirage as it moved through the air, distorting between a straight slash and a curve, and back again.
“Kuk, this ability is probably-!” The panicked Orta reacted quickly.
He hurriedly sidestepped with space magic, avoiding the aura. However, his team wasn’t as quick to react.
Chwaaaak!
Three heads tumbled through the air, as a hodgepodge of limbs fell heavily to the ground.
“Kuaaaaak!”
“What IS that?!”
“Ugh, m-my arm!”
Three magicians died, and four lost limbs. Only two members had avoided the attack in its entirety. However, their opponent seemed dissatisfied with himself.
“You are doing quite well, Meltor’s rats. I didn’t expect to only be able to kill three people.”
“... You.” Orta gritted his teeth as he recognized their enemy. It hadn’t been out of his calculations, but this situation had turned far more dangerous.
They already knew that the 2nd Sword, Zest, wasn’t able to battle because of his injuries. The 1st Sword was confined to the capital to defend the emperor and Belfort. Therefore, there were only two possible defenders in Rutben. The 5th and 3rd Swords, both of whom had aura abilities that Orta couldn’t easily deal with.
In particular, the man before him was the worst opponent for a space magician. Andras’ Crown Prince, Fermut, had manifested the Aura Ability to bend space.
Refraction or distortion... Orta judged that it was closer to the former.
If he gets close, I will die. Things might have been different if he was alone, but...
He could already see more combatants stepping out of the shadows around Fermut. It seemed Andras had deployed their Shadow Knights, their assassination and infiltration special forces. Orta knew it would be difficult to handle so many enemies with injured men. As such, he made the coldblooded decision to retreat.
However, the moment Orta was about to give up on his mission without hesitation, Fermut smirked. “Don’t move without my permission, dog.”
A red sword moved through the air.
Fermut Style, Refraction Sword. Sleeping Moon.
At first glance, it seemed like nothing had happened, but Orta’s eyes hardened. He could feel space with his senses, and he could feel the strings of space around him. If he moved carelessly, they would rip right through him. Fermut had just made it impossible for himself to fold space around himself to defend.
“This place is going to be your grave.” Fermut seemed impatient as he glanced at the shadows around him in an unspoken order to move.
As he faced his inevitable end, Orta laughed under his mask. “This is quite a lot of effort. And quite obviously tailored for me? Were you that upset from getting hit by the Red Tower Master? You must be afraid to compete with her again.”
Fermut’s eyes flashed red. “―You.”
Orta smirked, “Did I hit the nail on the head? It was a good plan, but such petty intentions.”
“... This dog is barking without knowing who I am.” Fermut’s fingers turned white around the grip of his sword even as his face turned blank. However, it was obvious that he was only calm on the surface, as his boiling aura gave away his rage.
All words lost meaning, as magic power and aura surged. In this heavy stillness, someone gulped, and the battle was on.
Fermut Style, Refraction Sword.
Space bent around Fermut.
Beheading Sword, Indiscriminate Stab.
The distorted sword aura seemed to come like an endless tide, twisting around him and threatening to reap his life. However, Orta’s sharp eyes caught the movement of space.
“Hup!”
His fingers left rents in space as Orta swiped at the air in front of him. He couldn’t rely on the normal defenses against bending space. The first prerequisite to holding his own in this battle was to successfully interfere with the battlefield’s space.
Tearing and bending space...
The twin attacks met and set off a thunderous shockwave.
Kwarurung!
Meanwhile, the Shadow Knights hurled themselves at the six remaining magicians.
However, the situation wasn’t good. Elite senior magicians of Meltor were generally on par with knights of Andras, but that balance of power wasn’t absolute. The White Tower magicians were injured and surrounded, so they couldn’t easily defend themselves against the Shadow Knights.
“Kuheok!” The magician who lost his left arm had a sword driven through his neck.
“T-Tower Master, I, first...” He didn’t manage anymore before falling heavily.
Four possible escape routes... But there is no way out.
Orta coolly watched his subordinates, whom he had known and trained for ten years, die in front of him. He calmly defended against Fermut as he kept searching for a path for them to escape. Even so, there seemed to be no way out of this predicament. The strongest enemy with the worst ability was in front of him, while the enemies that made up the net weren’t easily handled.
After exhausting all his ideas, Orta admitted it to himself.
This is as far as I go.
He couldn’t always win. He had always known he wasn’t invincible; he would lose to someone someday. After all, he was weaker than Veronica and Blundell. He had kept himself alive through sheer persistence and skill at reading battlefields until he found a route to victory. But this situation was beyond his ability to win.
Chwaack!
“... Kuh!”
One could blame him being distracted, but really, it was inevitable. Even if they could both control space, Fermut’s Aura Ability exceeded his Sorcery. Fermut prevailed because he refracted space. If two beings interfered in the same space, the more dominant one would win. Orta had known from the beginning that he needed to escape, not fight, but he hadn’t been given a single chance. The blow that finally penetrated his prodigious defenses tore a deep wound from his left collarbone to his right side. He narrowly avoided losing a limb, but the bleeding was serious.
Orta braced himself and put the last of his strength into standing upright. Even if he were to die, he didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of looking miserable. It would be nice if there was a chance to drink a potion.
“If you surrender, I’ll leave you with a body.”
Ridiculous. Orta spat in the direction of the voice and started to draw magic power from the bottom of his Circles. If he was going to die, he would take as many enemies as possible with him. This was the ending Orta had always imagined for himself, and it was the last thing he could do for his colleagues who had fallen before him.
“Tsk, if you insist on dying like this, I’ll kill you first!” Fermut sprang toward his enemy, who wouldn’t collapse even though he was covered in blood. Although he was injured, a master was a master. Meltor’s ghost wouldn’t fall so easily.
The end.
Ultimately, Orta couldn’t hold out much longer. Both masters knew the end of their battle had come, so the Shadow Knights backed away from the three remaining magicians. They didn’t dare launch another attack as the pressure of the masters grew to its peak. The only thing which could interfere with this situation was the intervention of a third party that didn’t exist.
But at that moment...
Orta looked up. “What?”
Fermut’s eyes widened as he too looked up at the sky. “What!”
Someone was coming. The senior magician and the swordmaster could both feel the presence coming at incredible speed from above the clouds. At that speed, it was more accurate to describe it as falling down, rather than approaching.
It came down like a divine bolt from the sky...
“Haaap!”
... as he landed right where Fermut was standing.
Kwarururung!?
The sound of thunder rocked the city as the aura flowing across twin swords seemed to roar. The curved edges of the falchions, weapons that were more commonly seen in mercenaries than knights, seemed sharp enough to cut through steel. Indeed, the mysterious intruder had pierced Fermut’s ankle with one of those falchions.
Blood filled his mouth at the sudden impact as Fermut snarled, “You!”
With blond hair, tanned skin, and light armor, the man seemed like a sleek wolf on the prowl. The intruder bared his teeth in a savage grin at Fermut’s rage.
“It has been a while, you dog bastard! I’m gonna make you pay for using my sister as a hostage!”
“How dare you bark in front of me, you traitor?!”
It was the swordmaster who had once left his family for his sister’s sake and eventually turned his back on the empire. Randolph Clovis had entered the battlefield.
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Chapter 264: The Die is Cast (2)
Rutben Citadel, a city in the furthermost eastern part of Andras Empire, was already fortified against invasion. Its walls, which were over forty meters tall, had been steadily constructed higher over the centuries. They even had anti-magic barriers and anti magic bomb measures. Meltor had tried to destroy them numerous times in the past, but they had always taken heavy damage and were forced to retreat.
However, this time, uninvited guests were visiting Rutben. A few hundred meters away from the walls, ten magicians were poised in the shadows. They were an elite unit of the White Tower, directly trained and commanded by White Tower Master Orta who stood in front, clad in a black mask. SInce they were all secret agents, they too had similar masks on their faces.
- Stop.?
Orta suddenly stopped ahead of them.
- From here onward, keep your shields up. We are two hundred meters from Rutben’s walls and watchtowers, so keep your magic power sealed. If you can’t get past the walls and get caught, don’t await my instructions and prioritize escape.
The magicians nodded, and Orta gestured as he murmured a spell. It seemed to be his own unique spell.
Rutben’s defensive arsenal was truly exquisite, as expected of an Andras fortress. If it hadn’t been for Orta, even the elite agents of the White Tower would be detected before getting past one wall, and they were likely to be killed immediately.
Wuuong...
A moment later, a hemispherical haze formed around the magicians, centered around Orta.
- Go.
The ten magicians slipped closer to the walls, intent on their infiltration.
This was the White Tower’s role on the battlefield.
If Veronica was the hammer that could annihilate an army, the White Tower magicians were the assassins who would silence enemies before they even appeared on the battlefield. They slipped past defenses and weakened them from the inside.
Their mission this time was to assassinate Rutben’s general and elite knights. The loss of the senior command would leave them defenseless against a magical assault. It was a tactic that had failed a few times in the past, but Meltor had learned from their failures.
Seuk.
The moment they arrived at the base of the wall, Orta held up a hand, and the magicians gathered around him. No matter how well trained they were, the magicians couldn’t climb a forty meter tall wall.
So, Orta had personally come to Rutben. As he continued to conceal their presence, he activated another spell. It was normally not possible for a magician to cast spells simultaneously like this, but Orta was different. The magicians slowly rose into the air.
Ohh! There is no alarm from Rutben...
As expected of the Tower Master. There is no end to what he can do.
Andras would never expect something so ridiculous either.
Of course, they didn’t say a word aloud, but their thoughts were clear from their attitude.
The impregnable fortress, Rutben Citadel...
For the first time in history, they had found an opportunity to break it. Even the normally calm agents couldn’t help but grow excited. Nevertheless, they were professional agents. It only took them a moment to slip back into the proper mindset. By the time they slipped past the third wall, they were treating the mission as any other. Private feelings were mere obstacles to the mission’s performance.
Ten pairs of feet landed gently on the ground, and blended into the shadows of the city. They had infiltrated without a sound. The unit that was feared as The Phantom by Andras had finally infiltrated the fortified city!
- Assassinate the lord first. Then, neutralize the military officers, knights, and communication facilities. Don’t relax just because we’ve crossed the wall. If things were this easy, the war would’ve ended a long time ago.
The nine members of his unit each laid a hand on their chest, signaling agreement. Satisfied, Orta started to make his way toward a mansion in the distance, Rutben Castle. His intelligence team had informed him that the only thing to be careful of was the silent alarm in the bedroom. It should be child’s play to take the lord’s life.
They slipped past another security checkpoint and moved through the empty city in the middle of the night. From the outskirts of the city to the lord’s residence―
Hmm?
Orta felt something strange. It wasn’t strange that no alarm rang due to his magic, but...
The odd thing was inside Rutben.
We haven’t seen a single patrol?
Orta hated to admit it, but Andras was strong. Their knights and soldiers were well trained and disciplined. Rutben was also one of the main fortresses of Andras. It wouldn’t be weird to have patrols in five-minute intervals even at the outskirts of the fortress city. However, despite being so close to the lord’s residence, it was definitely out of character that they hadn’t encountered a single patrol.
Orta hastily subvocalized an order.
- All members, pull... n0VeLuSb.c0M
But he was too late.
“You noticed quickly, rat.” A man emerged from thin air.
.
“DODGE!” Orta shouted instinctively, but he couldn’t be faster than the blade.
A blood-red aura appeared in the air.
Fermut Style, Refraction Sword.
It didn’t look like the trajectory of a sword. The aura was shimmering like a mirage as it moved through the air, distorting between a straight slash and a curve, and back again.
“Kuk, this ability is probably-!” The panicked Orta reacted quickly.
He hurriedly sidestepped with space magic, avoiding the aura. However, his team wasn’t as quick to react.
Chwaaaak!
Three heads tumbled through the air, as a hodgepodge of limbs fell heavily to the ground.
“Kuaaaaak!”
“What IS that?!”
“Ugh, m-my arm!”
Three magicians died, and four lost limbs. Only two members had avoided the attack in its entirety. However, their opponent seemed dissatisfied with himself.
“You are doing quite well, Meltor’s rats. I didn’t expect to only be able to kill three people.”
“... You.” Orta gritted his teeth as he recognized their enemy. It hadn’t been out of his calculations, but this situation had turned far more dangerous.
They already knew that the 2nd Sword, Zest, wasn’t able to battle because of his injuries. The 1st Sword was confined to the capital to defend the emperor and Belfort. Therefore, there were only two possible defenders in Rutben. The 5th and 3rd Swords, both of whom had aura abilities that Orta couldn’t easily deal with.
In particular, the man before him was the worst opponent for a space magician. Andras’ Crown Prince, Fermut, had manifested the Aura Ability to bend space.
Refraction or distortion... Orta judged that it was closer to the former.
If he gets close, I will die. Things might have been different if he was alone, but...
He could already see more combatants stepping out of the shadows around Fermut. It seemed Andras had deployed their Shadow Knights, their assassination and infiltration special forces. Orta knew it would be difficult to handle so many enemies with injured men. As such, he made the coldblooded decision to retreat.
However, the moment Orta was about to give up on his mission without hesitation, Fermut smirked. “Don’t move without my permission, dog.”
A red sword moved through the air.
Fermut Style, Refraction Sword. Sleeping Moon.
At first glance, it seemed like nothing had happened, but Orta’s eyes hardened. He could feel space with his senses, and he could feel the strings of space around him. If he moved carelessly, they would rip right through him. Fermut had just made it impossible for himself to fold space around himself to defend.
“This place is going to be your grave.” Fermut seemed impatient as he glanced at the shadows around him in an unspoken order to move.
As he faced his inevitable end, Orta laughed under his mask. “This is quite a lot of effort. And quite obviously tailored for me? Were you that upset from getting hit by the Red Tower Master? You must be afraid to compete with her again.”
Fermut’s eyes flashed red. “―You.”
Orta smirked, “Did I hit the nail on the head? It was a good plan, but such petty intentions.”
“... This dog is barking without knowing who I am.” Fermut’s fingers turned white around the grip of his sword even as his face turned blank. However, it was obvious that he was only calm on the surface, as his boiling aura gave away his rage.
All words lost meaning, as magic power and aura surged. In this heavy stillness, someone gulped, and the battle was on.
Fermut Style, Refraction Sword.
Space bent around Fermut.
Beheading Sword, Indiscriminate Stab.
The distorted sword aura seemed to come like an endless tide, twisting around him and threatening to reap his life. However, Orta’s sharp eyes caught the movement of space.
“Hup!”
His fingers left rents in space as Orta swiped at the air in front of him. He couldn’t rely on the normal defenses against bending space. The first prerequisite to holding his own in this battle was to successfully interfere with the battlefield’s space.
Tearing and bending space...
The twin attacks met and set off a thunderous shockwave.
Kwarurung!
Meanwhile, the Shadow Knights hurled themselves at the six remaining magicians.
However, the situation wasn’t good. Elite senior magicians of Meltor were generally on par with knights of Andras, but that balance of power wasn’t absolute. The White Tower magicians were injured and surrounded, so they couldn’t easily defend themselves against the Shadow Knights.
“Kuheok!” The magician who lost his left arm had a sword driven through his neck.
“T-Tower Master, I, first...” He didn’t manage anymore before falling heavily.
Four possible escape routes... But there is no way out.
Orta coolly watched his subordinates, whom he had known and trained for ten years, die in front of him. He calmly defended against Fermut as he kept searching for a path for them to escape. Even so, there seemed to be no way out of this predicament. The strongest enemy with the worst ability was in front of him, while the enemies that made up the net weren’t easily handled.
After exhausting all his ideas, Orta admitted it to himself.
This is as far as I go.
He couldn’t always win. He had always known he wasn’t invincible; he would lose to someone someday. After all, he was weaker than Veronica and Blundell. He had kept himself alive through sheer persistence and skill at reading battlefields until he found a route to victory. But this situation was beyond his ability to win.
Chwaack!
“... Kuh!”
One could blame him being distracted, but really, it was inevitable. Even if they could both control space, Fermut’s Aura Ability exceeded his Sorcery. Fermut prevailed because he refracted space. If two beings interfered in the same space, the more dominant one would win. Orta had known from the beginning that he needed to escape, not fight, but he hadn’t been given a single chance. The blow that finally penetrated his prodigious defenses tore a deep wound from his left collarbone to his right side. He narrowly avoided losing a limb, but the bleeding was serious.
Orta braced himself and put the last of his strength into standing upright. Even if he were to die, he didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of looking miserable. It would be nice if there was a chance to drink a potion.
“If you surrender, I’ll leave you with a body.”
Ridiculous. Orta spat in the direction of the voice and started to draw magic power from the bottom of his Circles. If he was going to die, he would take as many enemies as possible with him. This was the ending Orta had always imagined for himself, and it was the last thing he could do for his colleagues who had fallen before him.
“Tsk, if you insist on dying like this, I’ll kill you first!” Fermut sprang toward his enemy, who wouldn’t collapse even though he was covered in blood. Although he was injured, a master was a master. Meltor’s ghost wouldn’t fall so easily.
The end.
Ultimately, Orta couldn’t hold out much longer. Both masters knew the end of their battle had come, so the Shadow Knights backed away from the three remaining magicians. They didn’t dare launch another attack as the pressure of the masters grew to its peak. The only thing which could interfere with this situation was the intervention of a third party that didn’t exist.
But at that moment...
Orta looked up. “What?”
Fermut’s eyes widened as he too looked up at the sky. “What!”
Someone was coming. The senior magician and the swordmaster could both feel the presence coming at incredible speed from above the clouds. At that speed, it was more accurate to describe it as falling down, rather than approaching.
It came down like a divine bolt from the sky...
“Haaap!”
... as he landed right where Fermut was standing.
Kwarururung!?
The sound of thunder rocked the city as the aura flowing across twin swords seemed to roar. The curved edges of the falchions, weapons that were more commonly seen in mercenaries than knights, seemed sharp enough to cut through steel. Indeed, the mysterious intruder had pierced Fermut’s ankle with one of those falchions.
Blood filled his mouth at the sudden impact as Fermut snarled, “You!”
With blond hair, tanned skin, and light armor, the man seemed like a sleek wolf on the prowl. The intruder bared his teeth in a savage grin at Fermut’s rage.
“It has been a while, you dog bastard! I’m gonna make you pay for using my sister as a hostage!”
“How dare you bark in front of me, you traitor?!”
It was the swordmaster who had once left his family for his sister’s sake and eventually turned his back on the empire. Randolph Clovis had entered the battlefield.
Chapter 264: The Die is Cast 2 Rutben Citadel, a city in the furthermost eastern part of Andras Empire, was already fortified against invasion. Its walls, which were over forty meters tall, had been steadily constructed higher over the centuries. They even had anti-magic barriers and anti magic bomb measures. Meltor had tried to destroy them numerous times in the past, but they had always taken heavy damage and were forced to retreat. However, this time, uninvited guests were visiting Rutben. A few hundred meters away from the walls, ten magicians were poised in the shadows. They were an elite unit of the White Tower, directly trained and commanded by White Tower Master Orta who stood in front, clad in a black mask. SInce they were all secret agents, they too had similar masks on their faces. - Stop.? Orta suddenly stopped ahead of them. - From here onward, keep your shields up. We are two hundred meters from Rutben's walls and watchtowers, so keep your magic power sealed. If you can't get past the walls and get caught, don't await my instructions and prioritize escape. The magicians nodded, and Orta gestured as he murmured a spell. It seemed to be his own unique spell. Rutben's defensive arsenal was truly exquisite, as expected of an Andras fortress. If it hadn't been for Orta, even the elite agents of the White Tower would be detected before getting past one wall, and they were likely to be killed immediately. Wuuong... A moment later, a hemispherical haze formed around the magicians, centered around Orta. - Go. The ten magicians slipped closer to the walls, intent on their infiltration. This was the White Tower's role on the battlefield. If Veronica was the hammer that could annihilate an army, the White Tower magicians were the assassins who would silence enemies before they even appeared on the battlefield. They slipped past defenses and weakened them from the inside. Their mission this time was to assassinate Rutben's general and elite knights. The loss of the senior command would leave them defenseless against a magical assault. It was a tactic that had failed a few times in the past, but Meltor had learned from their failures. Seuk. The moment they arrived at the base of the wall, Orta held up a hand, and the magicians gathered around him. No matter how well trained they were, the magicians couldn't climb a forty meter tall wall. So, Orta had personally come to Rutben. As he continued to conceal their presence, he activated another spell. It was normally not possible for a magician to cast spells simultaneously like this, but Orta was different. The magicians slowly rose into the air. Ohh! There is no alarm from Rutben... As expected of the Tower Master. There is no end to what he can do. Andras would never expect something so ridiculous either. Of course, they didn't say a word aloud, but their thoughts were clear from their attitude. The impregnable fortress, Rutben Citadel... For the first time in history, they had found an opportunity to break it. Even the normally calm agents couldn't help but grow excited. Nevertheless, they were professional agents. It only took them a moment to slip back into the proper mindset. By the time they slipped past the third wall, they were treating the mission as any other. Private feelings were mere obstacles to the mission's performance. Ten pairs of feet landed gently on the ground, and blended into the shadows of the city. They had infiltrated without a sound. The unit that was feared as The Phantom by Andras had finally infiltrated the fortified city! - Assassinate the lord first. Then, neutralize the military officers, knights, and communication facilities. Don't relax just because we've crossed the wall. If things were this easy, the war would've ended a long time ago. The nine members of his unit each laid a hand on their chest, signaling agreement. Satisfied, Orta started to make his way toward a mansion in the distance, Rutben Castle. His intelligence team had informed him that the only thing to be careful of was the silent alarm in the bedroom. It should be child's play to take the lord's life. They slipped past another security checkpoint and moved through the empty city in the middle of the night. From the outskirts of the city to the lord's residence Hmm? Orta felt something strange. It wasn't strange that no alarm rang due to his magic, but... The odd thing was inside Rutben. We haven't seen a single patrol? Orta hated to admit it, but Andras was strong. Their knights and soldiers were well trained and disciplined. Rutben was also one of the main fortresses of Andras. It wouldn't be weird to have patrols in five-minute intervals even at the outskirts of the fortress city. However, despite being so close to the lord's residence, it was definitely out of character that they hadn't encountered a single patrol. Orta hastily subvocalized an order. - All members, pull... n0VeLuSb.c0MBut he was too late. You noticed quickly, rat. A man emerged from thin air. . DODGE! Orta shouted instinctively, but he couldn't be faster than the blade. A blood-red aura appeared in the air. Fermut Style, Refraction Sword. It didn't look like the trajectory of a sword. The aura was shimmering like a mirage as it moved through the air, distorting between a straight slash and a curve, and back again. Kuk, this ability is probably-! The panicked Orta reacted quickly. He hurriedly sidestepped with space magic, avoiding the aura. However, his team wasn't as quick to react. Chwaaaak! Three heads tumbled through the air, as a hodgepodge of limbs fell heavily to the ground. Kuaaaaak! What IS that?! Ugh, m-my arm! Three magicians died, and four lost limbs. Only two members had avoided the attack in its entirety. However, their opponent seemed dissatisfied with himself. You are doing quite well, Meltor's rats. I didn't expect to only be able to kill three people. ... You. Orta gritted his teeth as he recognized their enemy. It hadn't been out of his calculations, but this situation had turned far more dangerous. They already knew that the 2nd Sword, Zest, wasn't able to battle because of his injuries. The 1st Sword was confined to the capital to defend the emperor and Belfort. Therefore, there were only two possible defenders in Rutben. The 5th and 3rd Swords, both of whom had aura abilities that Orta couldn't easily deal with. In particular, the man before him was the worst opponent for a space magician. Andras' Crown Prince, Fermut, had manifested the Aura Ability to bend space. Refraction or distortion... Orta judged that it was closer to the former. If he gets close, I will die. Things might have been different if he was alone, but... He could already see more combatants stepping out of the shadows around Fermut. It seemed Andras had deployed their Shadow Knights, their assassination and infiltration special forces. Orta knew it would be difficult to handle so many enemies with injured men. As such, he made the coldblooded decision to retreat. However, the moment Orta was about to give up on his mission without hesitation, Fermut smirked. Don't move without my permission, dog. A red sword moved through the air. Fermut Style, Refraction Sword. Sleeping Moon. At first glance, it seemed like nothing had happened, but Orta's eyes hardened. He could feel space with his senses, and he could feel the strings of space around him. If he moved carelessly, they would rip right through him. Fermut had just made it impossible for himself to fold space around himself to defend. This place is going to be your grave. Fermut seemed impatient as he glanced at the shadows around him in an unspoken order to move. As he faced his inevitable end, Orta laughed under his mask. This is quite a lot of effort. And quite obviously tailored for me? Were you that upset from getting hit by the Red Tower Master? You must be afraid to compete with her again. Fermut's eyes flashed red. You. Orta smirked, Did I hit the nail on the head? It was a good plan, but such petty intentions. ... This dog is barking without knowing who I am. Fermut's fingers turned white around the grip of his sword even as his face turned blank. However, it was obvious that he was only calm on the surface, as his boiling aura gave away his rage. All words lost meaning, as magic power and aura surged. In this heavy stillness, someone gulped, and the battle was on. Fermut Style, Refraction Sword.Space bent around Fermut. Beheading Sword, Indiscriminate Stab. The distorted sword aura seemed to come like an endless tide, twisting around him and threatening to reap his life. However, Orta's sharp eyes caught the movement of space. Hup! His fingers left rents in space as Orta swiped at the air in front of him. He couldn't rely on the normal defenses against bending space. The first prerequisite to holding his own in this battle was to successfully interfere with the battlefield's space. Tearing and bending space... The twin attacks met and set off a thunderous shockwave. Kwarurung! Meanwhile, the Shadow Knights hurled themselves at the six remaining magicians. However, the situation wasn't good. Elite senior magicians of Meltor were generally on par with knights of Andras, but that balance of power wasn't absolute. The White Tower magicians were injured and surrounded, so they couldn't easily defend themselves against the Shadow Knights. Kuheok! The magician who lost his left arm had a sword driven through his neck. T-Tower Master, I, first... He didn't manage anymore before falling heavily. Four possible escape routes... But there is no way out. Orta coolly watched his subordinates, whom he had known and trained for ten years, die in front of him. He calmly defended against Fermut as he kept searching for a path for them to escape. Even so, there seemed to be no way out of this predicament. The strongest enemy with the worst ability was in front of him, while the enemies that made up the net weren't easily handled. After exhausting all his ideas, Orta admitted it to himself. This is as far as I go. He couldn't always win. He had always known he wasn't invincible; he would lose to someone someday. After all, he was weaker than Veronica and Blundell. He had kept himself alive through sheer persistence and skill at reading battlefields until he found a route to victory. But this situation was beyond his ability to win. Chwaack! ... Kuh! One could blame him being distracted, but really, it was inevitable. Even if they could both control space, Fermut's Aura Ability exceeded his Sorcery. Fermut prevailed because he refracted space. If two beings interfered in the same space, the more dominant one would win. Orta had known from the beginning that he needed to escape, not fight, but he hadn't been given a single chance. The blow that finally penetrated his prodigious defenses tore a deep wound from his left collarbone to his right side. He narrowly avoided losing a limb, but the bleeding was serious. Orta braced himself and put the last of his strength into standing upright. Even if he were to die, he didn't want to give them the satisfaction of looking miserable. It would be nice if there was a chance to drink a potion. If you surrender, I'll leave you with a body. Ridiculous. Orta spat in the direction of the voice and started to draw magic power from the bottom of his Circles. If he was going to die, he would take as many enemies as possible with him. This was the ending Orta had always imagined for himself, and it was the last thing he could do for his colleagues who had fallen before him. Tsk, if you insist on dying like this, I'll kill you first! Fermut sprang toward his enemy, who wouldn't collapse even though he was covered in blood. Although he was injured, a master was a master. Meltor's ghost wouldn't fall so easily. The end. Ultimately, Orta couldn't hold out much longer. Both masters knew the end of their battle had come, so the Shadow Knights backed away from the three remaining magicians. They didn't dare launch another attack as the pressure of the masters grew to its peak. The only thing which could interfere with this situation was the intervention of a third party that didn't exist. But at that moment... Orta looked up. What? Fermut's eyes widened as he too looked up at the sky. What! Someone was coming. The senior magician and the swordmaster could both feel the presence coming at incredible speed from above the clouds. At that speed, it was more accurate to describe it as falling down, rather than approaching. It came down like a divine bolt from the sky... Haaap! ... as he landed right where Fermut was standing. Kwarururung!? The sound of thunder rocked the city as the aura flowing across twin swords seemed to roar. The curved edges of the falchions, weapons that were more commonly seen in mercenaries than knights, seemed sharp enough to cut through steel. Indeed, the mysterious intruder had pierced Fermut's ankle with one of those falchions. Blood filled his mouth at the sudden impact as Fermut snarled, You! With blond hair, tanned skin, and light armor, the man seemed like a sleek wolf on the prowl. The intruder bared his teeth in a savage grin at Fermut's rage. It has been a while, you dog bastard! I'm gonna make you pay for using my sister as a hostage! How dare you bark in front of me, you traitor?! It was the swordmaster who had once left his family for his sister's sake and eventually turned his back on the empire. Randolph Clovis had entered the battlefield.
