Chapter 217: Silverleaf Academy (LXV)

The sky was black.

Not from nightfall, but from smoke.

The horizon was no longer a straight line of mountains and clouds, but a rising storm of ash and marching shadows.

The massive forces of the underworld had finally surfaced, dozens of monstrous creatures, cloaked assassins, war beasts, and dark-armored elites standing like jagged teeth along the old stone valley beneath the Imperial walls.

At the very front of that army, walking calmly through the haze of burning banners and crumbling trees, was a single figure.

Silver-haired.

Eyes narrowed.

Cloak torn and trailing behind him.

Aestrea.

His boots crushed bones and cinders alike, the hem of his coat dragging through bloodstains, fresh and old.

On either side of him stood Underworld Generals, twisted warriors with spears, blades, and dark magic pulsing in their eyes, but not one of them dared walk ahead of him.

He was at the vanguard, leading the entire army.

“Form the spearhead. We’re opening the gates ourselves.”

His voice wasn’t loud.

But every commander heard it.

From the rear lines came a roar.

Yara’s army shifted into position.

Two flanks of infernal knights and corrupted mages spread outward, while siege monsters began lurching forward on all fours, claws digging deep into the earth as they gathered speed.

A group of elite fighters cloaked in shadow, assassins loyal to Yara, stepped just behind Aestrea.

One of them tilted her head, whispering.

“What if they bring the Sword Duke to the front, Master?”

Aestrea didn’t glance back.

He raised his hand slowly, only the faintest crimson energy flickering around his fingertips.

“If he comes,” he said softly, his gaze fixed on the gates far in the distance.

“Someone will deal with him.”

His answer didn’t need to be louder.

The silence afterward carried it across the entire army.

BOOOOOOOOOM!!!

The signal was finally fired, an enormous black flare shot into the sky, the blast curling into the shape of a howling wolf made of smoke.

That was Yara’s signal.

The time for preparation was over.

War had begun.

A loose strand of silver hair fluttered across his cheek. He slowly raised his hand and pointed forward.

“Advance.”

The army moved as one.

BOOM!

The first barrier spell they encountered exploded outward.

Flames erupted from the front lines as defensive wards triggered across the outer districts. Arrows enchanted with holy magic rained down from towers, and dozens of robed priests began chanting from the palace’s outer wall.

Aestrea didn’t flinch.

He vanished.

SZZZZZZZHHHH!

He reappeared in mid-air, directly above the nearest guard tower.

His eyes locked on the mages inside. One of them shouted something, a warning, maybe. but Aestrea didn’t give him time to finish.

SLASH!

The world twisted.

A line of pure silver light sliced through the tower from top to base.

A second later, the entire structure slid in two, stone and steel cut cleanly. Then it collapsed with a roar, flames and dust bursting outward.

The path had opened.

Behind him, the Underworld Army surged through.

From the rooftops, knights began to descend, their armor painted gold, their swords glowing with divine runes.

They were elite, the Church’s sacred paladins.

One of them lunged straight for Aestrea.

“DIEEEE!

Aestrea spun mid-air, swinging his scythe with one hand.

CLAAAANG!!

The knight’s sword shattered.

Aestrea’s foot landed on the man’s chest.

CRACK!

He smashed down through three floors of a ruined building with him. Rubble exploded outward, the knight’s body limp.

Aestrea stood in the crater, raising his hand.

『 Ice Series: Glacial Dash! (✦ 5th-level Spell ✦) 』

FWOOSH!

He blurred forward again, leaving a freezing trail behind him. Another group of clerics tried to stop him.

They raised golden shields, chanting spells to ward him off.

『 Ice Series: Frost Chains! (✦ 5th-level Spell ✦) 』

KRRRRRKSHHHHH!!

Ice erupted from the ground, latching around their legs, then shooting up their bodies.

One tried to scream before he was encased entirely in glimmering frost. The others followed a second later.

Then—

『 Ice Series: Ice Fang Barrage! (✦ 3rd-Level Spell ✦)』

Dozens of shards exploded from his hands like bullets.

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

One shard pierced a priest’s shield, exploded through his chestplate, and sent him spinning across the cobblestones like a ragdoll.

Another blew off a paladin’s leg, the man’s scream drowned out by the sharp crack of impact. A third embedded into a bell tower, detonating the top floor in a white-blue blast of ice and wind.

The holy formations around the gates flickered.

CRACK!

They shattered.

Aestrea charged forward, boots slamming against the stone path, frost spreading beneath each step.

Behind him, his army surged like a tidal wave of nightmares, shadow assassins darting along walls, hulking beasts roaring as they smashed barricades, and cursed warlocks blasting holes into towers.

“THEY’RE BREACHING THE SECTOR!!”

“FALL BACK TO THE SECOND WALL!”

“BUY TIME FOR THE DUKE!!”

The defenders were in chaos.

A squad of imperial swordsmen rushed Aestrea from the alley to his left, their enchanted blades glowing yellow-white, their leader shouting a command spell.

『 Divine Edge: Righteous Sweep! (✦ 6th-level Holy Spell ✦) 』

Their strikes moved in perfect sync, all arcing toward Aestrea in a deadly semicircle.

But he didn’t stop moving.

『 Mixed Ice Series: Frost Step! (✦ 3rd-level Spell ✦)』

SWOOSH!

He disappeared into a blur of frost and wind.

The swords cleaved through nothing but ice mist.

Aestrea reappeared behind them, his scythe gleaming.

『 Ice Series: Frost Crash! (✦ 6th-level Spell ✦) 』

BOOOOOOM!!

The ground ruptured beneath the soldiers’ feet.

A frozen shockwave blasted outward, spikes of jagged ice erupting from below, impaling them mid-motion. Blood mixed with snow. Helmets rolled across the floor.

More defenders charged from above, archers stationed on rooftops, launching flaming arrows blessed by church fire.

Aestrea’s fingers twitched.

『 Shield Series: Winter’s Barrier! (✦ 6th-level Spell ✦) 』

SHUUUUUUUUM!

A dome of translucent ice surrounded him, absorbing each flaming shot with a dull thud. The arrows melted before hitting the ground.

Then, he crouched low.

『 Mixed Ice Series: Frozen Mirage! (✦ 4th-level Spell ✦)』

His body blurred, and then split into five identical figures.

All of them dashed forward.

“Which one’s real—?!”

“TARGET THEM ALL!”

Too late.

Two clones lunged at the archers.

BLAM!!

One clone exploded into ice shrapnel, shredding the enemies closest to it. Another clone leapt forward, plunging its scythe into the chest of a commander before vanishing.

The real Aestrea scaled the wall, body flickering between rooftops.

Down below, siege beasts roared.

One hurled a ball of dark flame against the southern gate, melting the entire entrance into twisted metal. Infernal knights rode through the flames, charging with corrupted banners fluttering behind them.

Everything was descending into a blur of blood, frost, and fire.

BOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

A shockwave suddenly thundered from the center of the palace.

The walls began to tremble.

A golden light flashed high in the sky—

Someone had finally responded.

The Sword Duke had arrived.

But Aestrea didn’t stop.

He kicked off the rooftop, his body streaking through the night sky like a comet of silver and blue.

He raised his scythe again—

“Moonlit Ice Lotus Sword Art…”

『 Second Move! (✦ Ice Lotus Barrage ✦) 』

A blizzard bloomed in the air.

Spinning petals of freezing magic spiraled around him, dozens, then hundreds. Each one glowed with concentrated mana, sharper than any kind of blade.

CRASH!

CRASH!!!

They rained down upon the palace walls like a divine hailstorm, slicing straight through soldiers, statues, and watchtowers alike.

Within seconds, the outer courtyard was cleared.

Aestrea landed lightly on the main road, rising slowly, surrounded by frozen corpses and swirling snow.

His eyes narrowed.

“Push forward,” he commanded.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

In just a few hours…

The city had quickly become a battlefield.

Flames crawled up shattered walls.

Holy towers, once shining with gold, were cracked and crumbling. Screams echoed across the streets as chaos ripped through the once-proud heart of the Empire.

And amid that chaos, Yara’s army surged.

At the western flank, where the infernal siege beasts smashed through steel gates and crushed knight formations with their clawed limbs, the vanguard pushed hard.

Braga, the bearded mountain of a man, let out a bellowing laugh as he tore through a squad of palace guards.

His axe, bigger than most men’s torsos, swung in wide arcs, severing weapons and limbs alike.

“HAAHAHA! You nobles fight like spoiled pigs!” Braga roared, blood streaking down his face like war paint.

A group of clerics tried to hold the line, casting shields of divine energy—

BOOOOM!!

Too slow.

He barreled through them, shoulder-first, and the golden shields shattered like glass.

“Forward! Trample their dead with honor!!”

Behind him, hundreds of mountain warriors and beast-folk screamed as they surged after him, their tribal chants drowning out the priest’s panicked calls.

To the east—

The streets trembled as explosions tore through the outer sanctum.

Nylessa had emerged from the sewer lines, her boots coated in muck and blood, her blades slick with priest-killer venom.

Her eyes burned beneath her hood as she carved down a fleeing noble mage, slitting his throat with surgical precision.

“Keep going. Burn the supply carts.”

The assassins around her vanished into alleys, shadows within shadows, carrying torch oil and daggers. Fires erupted seconds later, and screams followed.

“You thought we wouldn’t crawl through shit to reach your palace?” Nylessa murmured, wiping her blade.

“Then die for your luxury.”

Up in the sky—

It was a different war.

Zari soared past the last floating tower, her wyvern screeching with a voice like a dying hurricane.

“Formation Alpha! Dive on the roof guards—go low and tear their throats!”

A dozen wyverns and three banshees swooped down with her. Skyguard artillery turned to fire, too late.

BOOOOOOM!!!

One of the towers exploded as a banshee slammed into it, her wail rupturing stone and spell alike. Zari spun in the air, her arms glowing with silver flame as her tattoos lit up.

『 Flight Art: Serpent Lance! (✦ 6th-Level Spell ✦) 』

A lance of wind and light shot down like a comet, impaling a cluster of archpriests on the palace balcony. They didn’t even scream.

“Clear their escape route,” Zari said into the wind.

“They don’t get to run today.”

CRACK!!!

From the palace gates—

A new tremor rocked the battlefield.

There, at the heart of the assault—

Aestrea had arrived.

He stood atop a mountain of holy corpses, his scythe dripping red and white flames as they fizzled out in the open air.

His cloak had been slashed, burned, and still fluttered in the bloody wind.

Yara stood beside him now, her lips parted in a breathless laugh, her black hair flowing behind her like fire.

“That was quite the entrance, Darling~”

Aestrea didn’t speak, his eyes locked on the golden palace beyond.

She grinned wider.

『 Infernal Sigil: Queen’s Flame! (✯ 7th-Level Spell ✯) 』

A burning circle formed at her feet and exploded outward, giving their forces a wave of hellish vitality. Wounded creatures roared back to their feet.

Corrupted mages began casting again. Even broken siege towers groaned and pushed forward with renewed force.

Aestrea raised his hand.

His magic surged.

『 Ice Series: Frost Crash! (✦ 6th-level Spell ✦) 』

BOOOOM!!!

The second gate shattered, icy crystals bursting like knives into the defenders’ ranks.

At the palace’s upper walls, the Sword Duke still hadn’t moved.

But Aestrea could feel him.

He was waiting for something… but Aestrea didn’t know what.

But, of course…

Even if he did rush early, and if someone very powerful disrupted his plans, Aestrea knew that…

He would kill the Emperor nonetheless.

After all, only he…

Can control time to his favor.

Despite being close to his death.

Ahem.

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