More and more shouts echoed through the estate. A thin trail of smoke drifted in through the window, curling ominously. Without wasting a second, Kai flicked his hand, summoning a wind barrier that pushed the smoke away and sealed the room in a protective bubble.

Amara’s eyes widened and clutched Kai’s hand, shaken by the sudden chaos outside.

“Princess.” She looked up, bewildered. “It’s going to be okay. This isn’t an attack on us.”

Though he felt the tremor in her hand relieve, she still looked up with unease, but managed a nod. “What’s going on?”

Kai frowned. “We have invaders.” That was the most basic explanation he could give. “But they aren’t near this part of the estate yet. They’re probably after the captured nobles. If they kill them, it could destroy crucial testimonies—and my case will get worse.”

He grimaced. “We had a feeling something like this might happen. That’s why we moved every noble, even Idrin, to the western wing, where we could concentrate more guards.”

Amara clenched her fists on his arm. “But how? With all the security checks in place before anyone can even enter the city?”

Kai sighed. “No system is foolproof, and there’s always the chance of hidden ways in. Besides, I’d bet good gold we’re dealing with a mix of Mages among the intruders.” His eyes sharpened as he looked at her. “We’ll have to put our conversation on hold until I deal with this.”

Amara hesitated, then took a breath. “Can I come with you?”

Kai shook his head firmly. “Please don’t. I won’t be able to focus if you’re with me. Stay here and hide for now. You know how to cast [Water Bed]?” He asked, referring to a second-circle water affinity spell that created a bed of water, which would transform into a cushion when something with weight fell on it.

Amara nodded. “I do.”

“Good. If anyone makes it to this room, use it to jump out of the window. It’s unlikely—they’d have to bypass the wards I’ve set—but be careful.”

She swallowed hard and nodded again.

Kai gave her a brief, reassuring look before removing her hands from his gently and turned around, walking towards the window ledge. He knew if he stayed more to cease Amara’s worries, the situation outside might escalate.

Without looking behind, he jumped as a sharp gust of wind propelled him forward, he launched himself into the night, dropping in with control before using [Flight] to soar toward where all the noise came from.

Smoke curled ominously into the sky, and his eyes narrowed as he glided through the air.

Below, guards scrambled toward the source of the disturbance, and distant screams echoed through the estate, adding to the chaos. He knew those screams belonged to his own people, and felt every single one of them like a jab to his back.

Under his nose, there’d been an attack. He couldn’t let it be.

He rose higher, flying swiftly toward the western wing.

As he approached, he spotted the battle raging in the courtyard. The smoke wasn’t coming from any building, thankfully—but from the trees, which had been partially set ablaze.

The reason became immediately clear. In the middle of the courtyard, a dozen intruders were locked in combat with the guards. Several of the intruders wielded spells, particularly fire. By the amount of first circle and second circle flaming spells they launched indiscriminately, they looked like they wanted to burn everything down. And since over half of them were Mages, their relentless spell-flinging kept the guards on the defensive.

Leading the defense were Killian, Gareth, Bord, and two Mages from the newly established Sorcerer’s Tower.

Kai’s mana sense flared, analyzing the attackers. Most of them were second-circle Mages—but unlike the ones he had seen in the Archine Tower, these Mages looked to be battle-hardened. Their spells were precise, their coordination tight, and three of them focused solely on maintaining layered defensive barriers.

The barriers shimmered with different elemental hues, a translucent blue shield of water magic that rippled with each impact, a sturdy earthen wall reinforced with jagged stone protrusions, and a flickering dome of air that deflected incoming projectiles.

Kai didn’t waste any more time. He raised a hand and channeled his mana, summoning a blazing fireball. With a swift motion, he hurled it toward the barriers.

The fireball struck, giving out a deafening sound, colliding with the layered defenses and causing a violent explosion that rocked the entire courtyard.

Dust and smoke filled the air as cracks spiderwebbed across the barriers, and two large holes appeared in the shimmering dome.

There you go.

The enemy Mages looked up, startled, finally realizing that Kai had joined the fray. But before they could regroup, Kai followed up with an [Ice beam]—a concentrated blast of freezing energy that shot straight toward the defense Mages.

The icy attack hit its mark, freezing two of the Mages in place.

Their barriers flickered and collapsed as frost spread rapidly across their bodies.

Killian and Bord seized the opportunity—shortening the distance between them and cutting down the frozen Mages with swift, lethal strikes.

Just then, a crackling bolt of lightning hurtled toward Kai from the left. His reflexes kicked in, and he raised a hand, casting a wind barrier just in time to absorb the strike.

The lightning fizzled harmlessly against the swirling wall of air.

Kai turned toward the Mage, a middle aged bald man, who had attacked him and smirked. Without hesitation or mercy, he retaliated. Flames roared to life around him. He drew the spell structure in a heart beat for [Flaming Knight] and unleashed, aiming directly at the bald Mage.

A flaming knight materialized. It was twice as big as the Mage, and wielded a flaming sword. Faceless, the humanoid figure made out of fire was blazing with heat as it charged toward the enemy Mages, aiming to cut him clean in half. But the Mage dodged at the last second, rolling out of the way as two more intruders stepped forward to intercept. Just then, the [Flaming Knight] disappeared, surprising the Mages.

Taking the momentary distraction, Kai casted [Wind Blades] that sliced through the air with deadly speed.

The attackers scrambled to dodge, but the blades still found their mark, cutting deep gashes into their shoulders and legs. Cries of pain filled the courtyard as they staggered back, their formation crumbling.

Taking the chance, guards who were on the defensive before charged right at them, killing them right away.

It was clear that with Kai’s intervention, the tide was shifting in their favor. Because for every other spell that broke the opponent’s formation, the guards pressed forward. Killian had rightfully trained all those men to fight under pressure, even if their opponents were Mages.

Kai’s hand flew forward, sending a [Gust], taking a Mage out of balance. But before he could do any more, a shout took his attention.

“Lord Arzan!” Killian’s voice came from his right. “Another group of Mages has already moved inside! Bran and Lyra stationed with the nobles are probably holding them off, but they might need your help!”

Kai’s eyes narrowed, and he nodded without argument. Killian was right. If the attackers had split their forces, it could mean only one thing: these Mages here were just grunts, meant to distract them while the real threat went after the captured nobles.

And if he was right, there was a good chance that whoever was leading the attack was a third circle Mage or worse. None of the Enforcers stationed in the western wing would be able to handle that.

As that thought crossed his mind, Kai unleashed a powerful [Gust], knocking down a few more Mages to give the Enforcers some breathing room. The next second, he rose higher in the air.

Killian and the rest can handle it, he thought to himself as the enemy numbers dwindled. But his eyes strayed to the massive fire next to them that seemed to be growing more.

Without wasting a moment, he imagined a massive block of ice forming just above the burning trees. The spell structure took shape on his palm as he briefly closed his eyes. Inhaling mana from the air, he felt the surge of power rushing through him, leashing forward as the [Ice Block] descended, covering the entire section of trees.

The enemy Mages had somehow managed to cause considerable damage. If it continued, every tree in the western wing would be engulfed in flames. Kai extended his hand, casting a second-circle controlled [Flame Blast]. The ice block melted under the blast, releasing a torrential downpour that doused the flames and filled the air with thick smoke.

The ice should hold for at least thirty more minutes—enough time to get the fire under control.

Giving it one last look, he turned and moved away from the courtyard, heading upward toward the second floor.

Unfortunately, the windows on the building up to the third floor had been sealed to prevent the captured nobles from escaping and he had even removed the windows from the fourth floor completely, sealing it with cement—a precaution Kai had personally ordered. And he also couldn’t blast a wall of the fourth floor to enter in case he injured the nobles or his Enforcers.

Hence, he decided to move up from the third floor.

The wind from his hand shattered the sealed wooden window, and he slipped inside the castle. As he landed on the floor, his mind moved to think of the attack.

Though he’d anticipated an attack, he hadn’t expected such a large force of Mages to come after the prisoners. Regina must have wanted to deal with the nobles as quickly as possible, but the scale of the assault raised troubling questions. How had such a large group managed to infiltrate the city undetected? A hidden location? Flight magic? Teleportation? Any of those options would require a serious investigation, but that could only come after dealing with the current threat—and, if possible, capturing their leader for interrogation.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Kai moved swiftly down the corridor, his senses sharp. As he approached the staircase leading to the top floors, where the nobles were being held, he could hear the faint clash of steel and the crackling of spells—evidence that the fighting had already reached that area.

But before he could climb the stairs, a blast of force struck his air shield, making it flare with blue light as it absorbed the impact.

Kai skidded back a step and snapped his gaze to his right, where two Mages stood waiting. One was as tall as Kai and glared with grey eyes in the same shade as his hair. He had a massive scar on his nose that flared with every breath he took. The other one was taller, and much leaner. He wore thick, serrated stone armor. Kai also noticed the blue, shimmery necklace around his neck.

The grey-eyed one had launched the opening attack—a surge of water magic that still dripped from his hands. Kai recognized the stone armor on the other Mage immediately, [Stone Body], a second-circle earth aspected spell designed for defense.

A quick scan with his mana sense told him all he needed to know. Both were second-circle Mages. Although the spell structures looked a bit rough around the edges, something he was used to by now in the Mages of this era, they both seemed to be battle hardened and had enough time to plan a strategy for him. Two arrogant assholes, thinking that they could take him down.

Before Kai could launch a counterattack, the Earth Mage charged toward him, chunks of stone breaking off his armor and flying toward Kai, sharp enough to tear through blood and flesh alike.

Kai twisted his hand, summoning a [Gust] to deflect the stones, but the Earth Mage was already closing the distance, slamming a stone-clad fist against Kai’s shimmering barrier.

Kai’s shield wavered under the impact, small punctures forming in the shimmering surface, but it held firm. Judging by the wide-eyed look on the Earth Mage’s face, he hadn’t expected that.

He did what any sane Mage would do—seize the opportunity. With the Earth Mage already at close range, he unleashed a [Infernal bolt] straight toward him. In the narrow confines of the corridor, there was no room to dodge. The third circle spell struck the rock armor directly, exploding in a burst of heat and force. The impact sent the Mage hurtling backward, slamming him into the wall and cracking his stone defenses.

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The grey-eyed Mage sidestepped his flying comrade, his hands already moving to form a new spell structure. Kai’s mana flared as he recognized the spell, [Flood], a third circle spell. As the name suggested, it was designed to flood any area. If he didn’t do anything soon, the whole corridor was going to be turned into a death trap.

He didn’t let the latter finish. With a sharp twist of his fingers, he cast [Blizzard], a third-circle spell. It unleashed a strong, freezing wind force that raced down the corridor, freezing everything in its wake. The frost ate the walls and floor at an alarming speed, and before the Water Mage could complete his spell, it engulfed him, freezing his legs, torso and moving upwards. His expression froze–-literally–into one of wide-eyed shock as it trapped him.

The Mage struggled, hastily cancelling his spell to cast a [Water Blast] to free himself while the ice spread through his fingers, but it was too late. Kai watched as the water that formed from his spell immediately froze over again, locking him in place. With the man already wasting a lot of mana with the third circle spell that didn’t even make it out of his palm, he didn’t have any mana to do anything now.

So, Kai moved to land his final attack.

The ice began to melt rapidly, and thick, swirling vapors filled the corridor, turning the air hot and humid in seconds. The Water Mage blinked in confusion, realizing too late what was happening.

Kai’s voice cut through the mist, calm and deadly.

“Let’s finish this.”

***

Bran frowned as he carefully placed Lyra down on the bed, his heart heavy as he took in the gravity of her wound. Her entire chest was a mess of torn flesh, as though the enemy’s spell had ripped through her like a beast’s claws. He’d fed her every potion he had, but the gash stubbornly refused to close. It wasn’t bleeding anymore—that was the only mercy. But it wasn’t healing either. It was red, opened and a part of her ribcage was visible.

His jaw tightened. He could only hope she’d pull through until reinforcements arrived. Not that he was holding his breath. Judging by the chaos ringing through the estate, the reinforcements were going to be a long time coming.

The number of enemy Mages that had infiltrated the grounds was far beyond anything they’d expected.

Bran figured even Lord Arzan—who was a strong Third Circle Mage—would need time to deal with them all. Until then, it was up to him to stall for as long as possible.

He cast one last glance at Lyra’s pale face, then turned around.

His gaze shifted to the cluster of nobles huddled in the corner of the room. They were too scared; scared for their lives. Malyr was even hammering at a wall with a small hammer he had found god knows where, trying to break it open with trembling hands.

“Stop,” Bran said, already done with this entire thing. But Malyr ignored him, his fingers driven with pure desperation, scratching at the unyielding glass. Bran sighed. Even if by some miracle he was able to break the well, he would plummet to his death and even if he survived, there were a lot of Mages outside, ready with their spells to incinerate him.

Bran gave a final glance at Lyra, her eyes now closed but he knew she was breathing. “Don’t worry,” he said quietly. “And don’t dare die on me. I don’t need that on my conscience.”

Without waiting for a reply, he stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him. He turned and immediately took in the Mage standing at the end of the corridor.

The man exuded danger. His dark robes were embroidered with unfamiliar symbols that seemed to pulse faintly with mana, and there was a predatory gleam in his eyes as he toyed with the three guard golems that were trying—and failing—to subdue him.

Balen’s golems had been crafted to protect the castle and its inhabitants, each one standing over seven feet tall, forged with glowing cores embedded in their chests. But right now, they were losing.

One of the golems already had a gaping hole in its chest where its core had been shattered, and it was barely standing, its movements jerky and sluggish as though its legs might give out at any moment. Pieces of its armor were scattered across the floor, along with one of its arms, which had been ripped clean off.

The other two were faring slightly better, but not by much. They were trying to close in on the enemy Mage, their massive fists swinging with enough force to crack stone. But the Mage was fast. Too fast.

Bran narrowed his eyes, focusing on the swirling black energy that coated the Mage’s hands like a liquid fog. It wasn’t an element he recognized. Every time the golems moved in to strike, the Mage unleashed tendrils of something dark that slithered through the air like living whips, slicing through golems with ease and keeping the constructs at bay.

Bran clenched his fists.

He had a bad feeling about this.

The Mage fought like a shadow came to life, his dark robes flowing unnaturally as if caught in a breeze no one else could feel. Bran could make out pale, angular features; long dark hair tied to his back, pointed nose, and a scar on his forehead. And the symbols glowed faintly along his sleeves again, pulsing in time with the eerie black fog that drifted around his hands like coiling serpents.

As the Mage’s spell structure flared to life in front of him, his eyes caught the formation of several spears made entirely of darkness.

The golems moved to dodge, but the spears changed trajectory midair, curving like hunting beasts. One spear slammed into the already damaged golem, severing its remaining arm and sending it stumbling backward with a groan of stressed metal.

Bran tightened his grip on his sword and rushed forward knowing there would be no better time to join the fight, his mana flaring to life as thick plates of stone began forming over his body. They spread across his arms, chest, and legs, creating a heavy, rock-like armor that weighed him down—but after months of hardcore training, he barely noticed the added burden. When he’d first gained his affinity, it had been a struggle just to cover a single limb with stone. Now, he could coat his entire body in it easily.

As Bran charged, the Mage finally seemed to take notice. He turned his head slightly, a smirk curling his lips. “You’ll die, just like that little ice girl,” he said.

You wish, Bran’s anger flared. He launched forward.

He was almost upon the Mage when the man raised his hand and conjured another spear of darkness directly in front of him. Bran swung his sword in a wide arc, aiming to deflect the spear, but before he could land a hit, the remaining golem—still mostly intact—lunged at the Mage from the side, its massive sword slicing through the air with enough force to cleave a man in two.

The Mage reacted without hesitation. He lifted his other arm, and a second spell structure flared to life around his hand. In an instant, he conjured a swirling sphere of shadows and thrust it forward, slamming it into the golem’s chest before the construct’s blade could connect.

The effect was immediate—and devastating.

The sphere seemed to pulse once, then explode outward in a shockwave of dark energy. The golem shattered into pieces, its metal limbs and core flying apart as if it had been torn from within.

Bran barely had time to throw up his arms as several chunks of debris slammed into his rock armor, causing him to stagger back. His eyes widened in shock. The golem… it had been obliterated in an instant.

The Mage turned toward Bran, his smirk deepening. “It was a fun little fight,” he said casually, as though they were sparring and not fighting for their lives. “But as you can see, our strength levels are entirely different—even if you can use a bit of magic.” His eyes glinted darkly. “Now… let’s end this.”

With a flick of his wrist, the Mage summoned more spell structures around him, and Bran’s heart sank as he saw what was coming.

Tens of spears materialized in the air, hovering around the Mage like a deadly storm of black missiles.

Then, with a sharp motion, he sent them hurtling toward Bran.

There was no way he could dodge them all.

He raised his sword desperately, blocking the first spear as it streaked toward him, the impact jarring his entire arm. More spears followed, slamming into his rock armor with brutal force. Cracks began to spider web across the stone, and Bran gritted his teeth, forcing more mana into the armor to reinforce it—but it wasn’t enough. The spears kept coming, and he could feel the stone starting to give way.

If he stayed where he was, he’d be punctured all over, left bleeding out on the cold stone floor.

Realizing he had no other choice, Bran gritted his teeth, adjusted his grip on his sword, and did the only thing he could think of. He charged.

If he was going down, he was going down fighting.

He ducked and weaved as the spears of darkness hurtled toward him, each one barely missing him by a hair’s breadth. His breathing was ragged, and his rock armor cracked further with every close call, but he kept moving, refusing to stop. He wasn’t going to die here. Not yet.

The Mage watched him with an irritated expression, clicking his tongue in annoyance. “You’re suicidal,” he sneered, raising his hand to form that terrifying sphere of darkness once more. It swirled ominously in his palm as he stepped forward and launched it straight at Bran.

Bran dodged to the side, grunting as the sphere grazed his arm, only slightly burning his skin. His sword came down to slice the Mage in his arm. And he expected to feel the tearing, burning pain of his flesh cutting but instead, there was… nothing.

He looked down in confusion and noticed something faintly shimmering around the Mage’s body—a transparent, almost invisible layer of protection. He hadn’t even realized it was there.

The Mage narrowed his eyes, noticing Bran’s surprise. “Rookie mistake,” he said with a mocking chuckle.

Before Bran could recover, the Mage surged forward, aiming to slam the sphere directly into his chest. Bran saw it coming, but there was no time to dodge. He braced himself, closing his eyes and waiting for the impact that would end him.

This was it. This was how he would die. He didn’t even get time to have his final moment. He waited—and waited.

But it never came.

A sharp crack echoed through the corridor and he opened his eyes, and suddenly, the Mage’s arm jerked backward as something wrapped tightly around it—a whip, shimmering with energy.

The Mage hissed in surprise, yanking at his arm, but the whip held fast.

And then, Bran heard the voice he had desperately been waiting to hear.

“It took longer than I expected to deal with your minions.”

Lord Arzan. A wave of relief washed over Bran. He wouldn’t die, not when his lord was right there.

Lord Arzan stepped into the corridor calmly—too calmly, his robes fluttering around him.

“But it seems like I arrived just in time.” Lord Arzan cocked his head sideways, studying the Mage as Bran took the opportunity to step back, knowing his fight was over.

***

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