The night over Firekeep's lands was mostly quiet. Only the crackle of torches and the low murmur of soldiers filled the dark. Most of Aldric's army camped not far from the front lines, with others positioned farther back. Their tents glowed faintly in the distance, and thin trails of smoke rose over the horizon and distant trees. Some of his troops still stood in formation on the desert sands of the Firekeep Front.
Both sides held their vigil through the long hours. Some slept beside their spears. Others stood guard against the wind. All waited for even the tiniest light to spread across the battlefield.
When dawn came, as the first light cut through the mist, horns echoed across the valley. The armies were already in place.
Firekeep's defenders lined in front of the walls. At the front were the dwarven footmen with heavy shields. Behind them stood the Firekeep soldiers with pikes and spears. The samurai held the next line. On both flanks were the heavy and light cavalry, including the mounted samurai and the mounted archers.
Across the field Aldric's forces had swelled overnight. The soldiers trailing his march had finally joined him and filled the gaps along his lines. His catapults stood rebuilt and fresh archers took position beside them.
Scouting cavalry now roamed the perimeter in widening circles. They never stopped moving, always watching for ambushes from the mist or the flanks.
Hours passed under the cold light. Neither side moved. Only chants and distant commands rolled across the empty space between.
***
Rage had been ordered to rest in the quarters of the queens for the night but slipped away before dawn. The chambers felt too still and too ceremonial. He preferred the quiet ASMR of a tavern, but the one nearby the gates was no longer what it once had been. No laughter. No adventurers drinking. Only soldiers tightening armor straps and sharpening blades. At least he was away from sleeping with the royals, worried his hands might slip during his sleep and make him lose his head in the process.
Moments later, a firm and unmistakable sound of metal boots echoed from the street outside. A familiar voice followed, cutting through the quiet beyond the tavern door. She did not need to ask where he had gone. Ignia knew every corner of her fortress, and Rage had never been hard to find.
The door burst open.
"Wake up, rat."
Ignia's voice cut through the room. She grabbed him by the collar and dragged him up before he could answer.
"Hey, I'm already awake," Rage muttered, rubbing his eyes. "I can walk on my own."
"Good," she said, turning toward the light outside. "Then start walking. The enemies are already on the field."
The streets beyond the tavern were busy. Soldiers filled the road, greeting their queen as she passed. Dwarves stood by the carts, handing out shields and weapons. Some soldiers were fixing their armors. Others sat by the walls, resting or talking in low voices.
Rage followed Ignia, still scratching his head and yawning as the gates opened to the morning air.
On the way, he grabbed a piece of bread and a mug from a table set out for the soldiers, eating as he walked.
They reached the backline where the other queens were already waiting.
"Remind me again," Rage said in a low voice, "why the siege didn't continue last night?"
No one answered. All eyes faced the enemy lines.
Moments later Lyria arrived with a portion of her elite light cavalry. She bowed toward Ignia and her riders made way for two horses.
"A friend awaits," Lyria said to Rage.
One soldier led a horse toward him while another guided one toward Ignia.
"Cool," Rage muttered.
He brushed the horse's head with his hand. "Long time no see, unnamed horse."
It was the same steed he had during training and the siege on the bandit fortress.
He mounted, adjusting himself on the saddle.
He raised his arm and Balmung's dark plates gleamed under the morning light.
The night before, he had left his three katanas in the queens' chamber for safekeeping.
He rode forward to line up beside Ignia at the front.
***
Deltia's scouts and some of Aerion's rangers moved through the distant forests along the sides, aiming further back at Aldric's forces toward the resting and wounded soldiers in the tents. Their main targets, however, were the mages if any still remained after the previous day's carnage.
The first flag to rise that morning was the banner with the bandit crest from the top of the tower.
Aldric saw it from across the field. He knew what it meant.
"Flanks," he said.
His captains shouted orders.
Shielders ran to cover the sides and the archers shifted formation. The roaming cavalry turned to meet whatever might come from the edges.
Then came the thunder of hooves. Not from the sands this time but from the trees at the far edges where no scouts had checked. Those were the places Aldric's riders thought safe. Yet the charge came from there.
A cloud of dust rose from the distance as the bandit cavalry thundered forward from the same direction.
Aldric's moving cavalry charged to meet them. But as they were about to clash, the riders were not men. They were straw figures tied to saddles and soaked in oil.
Confusion spread at once among Aldric's ranks. The riders slowed, unsure of what to strike. The air was filled with commands, shouts, and hesitation.
Then the sands began to shift again like the day before. From the seemingly natural contours of the dunes came the bandit riders bursting from the dust. Then another emerged, hidden among the strawmen. They drew curved blades that gleamed under the morning sun.
The clash was swift and brutal. Aldric's moving cavalry was outnumbered and crushed in moments. The bandits tore through them and then slipped back among the strawmen, concealing themselves again as they moved toward the flanks.
Aldric's archers raised their bows. Though they had seen the slaughter, the true enemy remained unseen.
Some archers fired without hesitation. A few horses were hit and stumbled, yet many of those kept running, still dragging the strawmen behind them.
The charge crashed into the defending shielders. For a moment they too hesitated, unsure what they faced. Then came the ring of steel and the scream of men. The real riders broke through the haze and struck hard, driving deep toward the center from both flanks.
The straw figures carried by the horses pressed on toward the middle. They neared the lines where Aldric's archers and catapults stood ready.
From the fortress, the elven archers had been waiting for the moment.
Then came the signal.
Their fiery arrows cut through without mercy. The first strawmen burst into flame. Fire leaped from horse to horse until both flanks became walls of burning figures. Thick smoke poured over the field and the world turned gray.
Aldric's ranks coughed in the smoke. They stumbled as the few remaining burning horses crashed among them. The fire spread to the wooden catapults and just like the previous day they were gone once more.
Through the smoke and fire, the bandit riders pushed forward cutting down every soldier they saw. They did not stop. It was a hit and run. Either they killed whoever was in their way or did not bother at all. They kept rushing forward and never looked back.
Aldric saw the same maneuver that had struck him the day before, tearing through his backline again.
He was furious.
His officers called for orders, and some shouted to chase and end the bandits as they fled.
But Aldric did not pursue. He raised his sword and pointed it toward Firekeep.
All forces were to advance. This time it would be an all out push.
"Signal the army," Aldric ordered.
The command ran through the ranks. The frontline advanced, shields up, pushing toward Firekeep.
On the fortress side, Ignia saw the enemies pushing forward. She raised her sword and pointed it at them, ready to meet their charge.
"Charge!" Ignia screamed. Her voice echoed across the field.
Officers took up the command, shouting it down the lines as Firekeep's forces began to advance.
Rage moved beside her. Talwyn followed close behind. Kazumi rode with her three shoguns. Suzu, Miyu, and Reina followed her. Behind them came Seloria, Isaline, Renelle, and Viviane.
Mariselle stayed in the rear with Aerion and Ilyana, where the elven archers held the line.
As the army moved forward, the formations began to shift. Talwyn's shield dwarves thundered to the front, their wall of steel formed the vanguard. Behind them, the pikes locked into place, bracing for the charge. At their backs rode the samurai of Tenzan Skyhold. They held their bows drawn for the opening volley, blades at their hips, ready to close the distance when the lines met.
Then from the smoke ahead two bandit riders broke through, each holding a burning torch.
They threw the flames to the ground, igniting a long trail of straw hidden along the sand dunes. It caught at once, spreading fire across the center of the field. The smoke thickened, rolling over both sides until sight itself became a weapon.
Firekeep's army stopped short of it. They held formation, waiting.
Aldric's remaining archers fired blindly into the haze. Arrows clattered against shields but failed to break through. Then came the sound of countless heavy steps. His front line pushed forward, crossing the smoke. Steel met steel as the two sides collided. Waiting pikes struck the moment they emerged. Behind them, the samurai loosed their arrows into the smoke.
At Firekeep's rear line, Aerion raised his hand. When he dropped it, a thick volley of arrows soared from the back ranks and the ramparts above. Aerion's elven archers prided themselves on precision. Even in the chaos, none missed their mark. Not a single arrow fell to the sand. A slight wind, a misfire, or a weak pull of the string would have meant striking an ally. Yet every arrow flew true, landing just beyond Firekeep's advancing line and striking the enemy where they stood.
Not long after, another volley followed. The elven archers aimed high and pulled their strings further, sending arrows on a long-distance flight toward the enemy's inner line. Aerion dropped his hand once more, and the arrows rained down. Those who were able to survive were the ones who took shelter behind damaged catapults or fallen allies. Some arrows even pierced through the bodies of the fallen, killing them as well.
Without any wasted time, Aerion signaled once more. Those positioned along the ramparts remained on bows, while the archers in the backlines mounted their horses. Some kept their bows ready, but many switched to blades, preparing for close combat. They surged forward joined by Mariselle and the rest.
Ignia broke from her ranks and leapt ahead, carving through enemies as if the battle were her dance. Her sword cut wide arcs leaving a trail of motionless bodies.
On the other side, Talwyn leapt forward with her gigantic hammer, smashing through foes with each swing.
Kazumi fought in the frontlines as well, her katanas struck down anyone who dared approach.
Aldric saw the carnage and the disadvantage of his position. His army was slowly being pushed back. Firekeep's champions and even the queens had already joined the fight.
"Fools," he muttered. "Letting their royals join the battle."
He signaled the troops in his circle to advance, all except his five very best champions.
They charged forward, and as they joined the clash, Firekeep's front ranks began to fall beneath their blades. For a moment the advance held promise, cutting deep into the enemy lines. Then they met their match. The bunny maids, Kazumi's girls, and the queens themselves stood in their way. The ground between them turned into a blur of blood and steel.
Within that chaos Rage moved. He blurred in and out of sight, Digital Renegade was already active. Slow footmen or seasoned champions, it made no difference. Any who drifted too close were struck down.
A few managed to swing at him, their weapons grazed the air where he had stood a heartbeat before. A slight step to the side, a twist, and their strikes met nothing. Then came the counter, whatever form Balmung was at that instant, or worse, Murder Mitten left them broken on the ground.
***
Aldric's gaze never left a single figure.
Not the queens, not the bunny maids, not even Kazumi's girls. They moved better than anyone else on the field, but to Aldric, they were no more than equals to his elite troops. Skilled, yes, but not beyond his reach.
He watched the magic user among Firekeep's ranks. The one moving too fast to follow, weaving through soldiers. The one who moved unlike the others. An anomaly. Rage.
Aldric turned to Calderon, who stood at his side.
"Is that the same enchanter we saw yesterday?" he asked.
Calderon gave a short bow. "It is, my lord."
Aldric turned his head back to Rage and leaned against his throne. His voice dropped to a murmur. "Let's see how good you are."
He called for one of his sages. "Observe him," Aldric said.
The sage nodded, his eyes glowing as he cast his spell.
Moments later he spoke. "A high sage, my lord. Expert in self-enchantment. Uses displacement and speed magic. Based on his movements, he is above adamantine rank."
The sage watched Rage again. "It appears he uses his hands to cast curses on our soldiers."
Or at least that was what the sage thought.
Aldric's expression hardened. "A rare one in these desolate lands."
"Yes, my lord."
He turned to an advisor. "What do you think? Should we capture him?"
The advisor leaned in. "That level of mastery would be a great threat, my lord."
"That's what I thought." Aldric raised his hand, calling for his five reserved champions. "He has unknown magic. Bring his body to me. A necromancer can reanimate him and we will learn what kind of magic he holds."
Roland grinned, resting his weapon on his shoulder. "Finally."
The five advanced together, stepping through smoke and flame toward the chaos. They moved smoothly through the crowd with Roland leading. He spared no one in his path. Ally or enemy, all were thrown aside lifeless as his spear carved the way forward.
They walked toward Rage.
[SYSTEM] Guinevere Lv. 150
[SYSTEM] class: Warlock
[SYSTEM] hostile
[SYSTEM] Penelope Lv. 126
[SYSTEM] class: Sage
[SYSTEM] hostile
[SYSTEM] Reynard Lv. 115
[SYSTEM] class: Geomancer
[SYSTEM] hostile
[SYSTEM] Elric Lv. 153
[SYSTEM] class: Warlock
[SYSTEM] hostile
[SYSTEM] Roland Lv. 225
[SYSTEM] class: Armsman
[SYSTEM] hostile
Rage saw the name tags and froze. Their levels were higher than anyone he had ever seen.
Almost instantly the ground trembled. Reynard was already casting. Pillars of stone burst upward, circling Rage before expanding outward and shoving everyone away.
There was something unusual about the pillars. Up close, they vibrated with a low hum and the space between them seemed to blur. Rage felt the danger at once from the high level enemies and a strange stone structure around him.
He tried to blink out of the circle, but the spell held him inside, as if he were completely cut off from the outside world.
He looked back toward his allies.
"Retreat!" Rage screamed with all his lungs.
The voice pierced the chaos. Everyone nearby heard it.
Then Elric whispered a spell, using the pillars Reynard had summoned. The pillars shook, sending another shockwave that threw soldiers back even farther.
Penelope's eyes glowed purple as she murmured a tracing spell toward Rage, then cast another to link their visions.
Guinevere began to chant. The air thickened as her magic gathered.
Commands rippled through the ranks as officers shouted for retreat and to protect the queens. Some hesitated, staring at the five intimidating figures, while others turned at once and began pulling back. A scream of retreat from someone stronger than themselves could only mean one thing—imminent danger.
Ignia slipped past her officers and charged toward Rage. She swung her massive blade at the pillars, but the strike was deflected and she was thrown back.
Kazumi followed, only to meet the same fate. Both were quickly seized by their officers and pulled away from the front.
The same thing happened to the four bunny maids, who were thrown back by an unseen force the moment they tried to enter the stone ring.
Firekeep's forces kept fighting as they pulled back, holding their shields up and their weapons ready. The enemy kept pushing against them without letting up.
Roland leapt through the ring, landing inside with Rage.
Rage stood still, his gaze was fixed on the towering figure before him.
"Do you know what I like about magic users?" Roland said while spinning his spear in his hand. "It's when the blue light fades from their eyes as the last of their mana slips away."
Rage flicked Balmung, casting off the blood that clung to it.
Steel clashed. Sparks flew. Roland's spear cut through the air, but Rage met it mid-swing with Balmung as a short blade to parry. The next moment, it stretched into a spear, deflecting another thrust before spinning into a greatsword strike. Roland stepped back, his spear twisted, blocking each blow with perfect timing.
Rage blinked, reappearing at Roland's flank, balmung shifted into a sword. Roland spun, catching the strike with the shaft, then countered with a low sweep. Rage jumped, landing on the spear, using it as leverage to leap overhead. Balmung turned into daggers mid-air. Roland blocked again, sparks rained down around them.
They both hit the ground at the same time, weapons raised.
Rage attacked again faster this time but every move was met with flawless defense. It was as if Roland could see each strike before it came. The vision-link spell Penelope had cast was at work and with five pairs of eyes sharing what one could not see, every move Rage made was exposed.
Then at last, Guinevere finished her gravity spell.
Rage tried to blink out of it, but even the space between movements felt thick, shortened, trapped. There was no escape now.
Roland watched him struggle. "No need to fight it, my friend."
Rage fell to one knee. The pressure pressed him harder down into the dirt. Through a narrow gap between the stones, he looked toward the fortress one last time.
Firekeep's forces were now closer to the gates, fighting as they retreated. Ignia and Kazumi were still being dragged away by their officers toward safety.
Maybe that was enough.
The fortress would hold again.
Maybe Aldric's men would grow tired in a few days and leave Firekeep alone.
Maybe.
"Here we go again. Plot armor time." Rage exhaled slowly.
Roland's spear fell.
The tip pierced through his back clean.
Rage did not collapse. The shaft held him upright, the weapon itself kept his body from falling.
Pain burst through his chest. Blood filled his mouth.
His vision blurred.
Roland's voice sounded distant, though he was right in front of him. "We thought you were stronger, my friend. I wished our duel had lasted longer."
The sound faded with the light.