Chapter 20: The War Unfolds
Raiza paused on the rooftop, looking down at the gray city below. Her heart still pounded, and her katana, glowing with crimson energy, seemed alive with her. Every moment with Milo replayed in her mind.
He… he actually helped me escape… What is that boy thinking? she wondered.
She scanned the streets. The Novara patrol was still searching, footsteps echoing faintly through the alleys.
"They're still here…" she muttered, a mix of irritation and caution in her voice. Every move now had to be precise; she couldn't risk another encounter.
Raiza slid her katana into its sheath with a controlled motion, then leaped into a dead-end alley, landing lightly.
The narrow space was dim and cold. She pressed her back against the wall, catching her breath, hidden from the patrol but not from the storm of thoughts about Milo.
She saw an incoming call from her master, Tavian, and a wave of tension hit her. Why was he calling now? Had he heard about the fight?
She answered, voice trembling with fear and longing:
"M-Master Tavian!"
In his palace, Tavian sat calmly before a table of papers, a mysterious figure silent across from him. His tone was reassuring yet carried natural authority:
"Raiza… why are you late?"
Raiza, back against the rough wall, katana at her side, body marked with small cuts, wavy black hair with red streaks tangled from the wind, breathed rapidly but controlled.
Fatigue showed on her sharp features, yet her eyes held determination; her tense shoulders and tight muscles spoke of a fighter unwilling to give up.
She gripped her phone, voice strained with awe and longing:
"M-Master Tavian… I… I went alone… I wanted to bring Milo to you…"
In his palace, Tavian sipped his wine, glancing at the mysterious figure across from him, a faint, mocking smile on his lips.
"Hmm… and what happened after that?" His calm voice carried power, even through the phone.
Raiza's voice trembled.
"I couldn't bring him… Celestine helped him again…"
Her shoulders remained tense, the fight's strain still in her body, and confessing this added weight to her heart.
Tavian rested his chin on his hand, considering her words.
"Ah… Celestine… guilds have always resisted me… but that won't last."
Raiza listened intently, voice soft with respect and fear.
"M-Master Tavian…"
He smiled faintly.
"Return to the palace, Raiza. It's late. I feared something might have happened… you worried me."
Raiza blushed, covering her mouth briefly before replying,
"O-Okay, Master Tavian…"
The call ended, leaving his voice echoing in her mind. She sprang to her feet, weaving through the dark streets toward the palace, a renewed joy and energy filling her despite the scratches and exhaustion.
Milo rested in the narrow alley, catching his breath, sweat and dust covering him, scratches marking his arms and shoulders. Yet beneath the pain, a new strength surged, readying him for what came next.
Celestine stepped closer, calm but with worry in her eyes. She pulled a small pale-blue bottle from her bag.
"Take this… it will heal your wounds in minutes."
She extended her hand toward him, but Milo shook his head firmly, raising his hand slightly as if to push it away:
"No… I don't need it. I'm fine."
The scratches on his arms and shoulders still bled lightly, some slightly swollen, yet his gaze was sharp and determined. Clenching his fists, he said,
"I have to go… and defeat her. I can't stop now."
Celestine paused, sensing the weight of his resolve his need to prove something to himself more than anyone else. She studied his wounds, then looked into his eyes.
"It seems you didn't notice the wound on your stomach," she said calmly.
Milo looked down and saw a prominent cut, bleeding lightly.
Shock registered across his face, his voice filled with disbelief:
"I'm sure I dodged that attack… I…"
Celestine interrupted him quickly, her tone firm yet reassuring:
"Drink the medicine before your wounds worsen."
Milo felt the shock but understood the seriousness in her words. Slowly, he reached for the medicine, eyes fixed on the cut in his stomach.
He drank it, the cold liquid spreading warmth through his body, soothing every muscle and wound. Within minutes, all scratches vanished, pain disappeared, and even his torn clothes seemed untouched.
Leaning on his hands, Milo felt relief for the first time since the fight began. Sweat and fatigue melted away, leaving sharp features, wavy brown hair framing his face, piercing eyes gleaming, and a body radiating smooth power.
He looked at her, slightly annoyed.
"Why are you here again? I never asked for your help."
Celestine looked at him, calm and slightly positive.
"What now? Are you going to deny my help?"
Milo felt a twinge of shame.
"But I didn't ask for your help… this is my fight."
Celestine: "Kid, the Talented aren't just your enemies and besides, fighting inside Novara is forbidden anyway."
Milo stood, brushing off dust, his expression cold and firm.
"I don't care… just don't help me again. I'm not connected to you."
Celestine's eyes sharpened.
"You reckless kid… do you realize what would've happened if I hadn't stopped that fight?"
Milo met her gaze, resolute.
"I'd rather die than accept pity from someone I don't know."
Celestine flared, then sighed.
"Damn it… you really are like your father. But stubbornness won't help you."
He stepped forward, shoulders tense, dust clinging to his clothes, small cuts marking his arms. His messy hair fell over his forehead, but he didn't care his path was clear. Milo passed Celestine without a glance.
"And where do you think you're going?" she asked calmly.
"I need to catch up to her," he replied without hesitation.
Celestine watched him, her black hair glinting softly in the night, cloak swaying with the breeze. Her sharp violet eyes followed his back, serious but concerned, her posture perfectly straight.
"The gap… the weakness gap…" she murmured quietly, the bitter truth lingering in her words.
Then she says in a calm voice, one carrying a quiet but bitter truth:
"The weakness gap…
Milo stopped walking and turned to her, his voice sharp:
Milo:
"What do you mean?"
Celestine lifted a hand to her mouth, the other resting beneath it, leaning forward slightly.
"Do you hate my help… just because you're weak?"
Milo frowned, gaze firm.
"I'm not weak…"
She nodded subtly, then spoke a truth he didn't want to hear.
"Yes… but you feel like you're not at the level you should be."
Stepping closer, her eyes studied him.
"Your father, at your age, was gifted and strong… he surpassed every level easily."
Milo's shoulders sank slightly, even as he tried to hide it.
"But you… you're not at his level. You haven't surpassed any stage yet, and your special technique… you can't control it well, and it drains you badly."
He clenched his fists, lowering his head, teeth pressed tight.
Celestine slowly lowered her hand, pointing a finger at him, her tone sharp.
"That's why you throw yourself into all these fights… because you want to prove the opposite of what I'm telling you, isn't it?"
Milo didn't answer. He stayed silent, then turned and walked on, steps firm despite the frustration in his chest.
Celestine's voice stopped him.
"What do you say… to a test?"
Milo paused, eyes widening slightly.
"A test?"
She smiled calmly, confident. Raising three fingers, she said:
"Yes. Three strikes. If you land three clean hits on my face… I won't interfere in your affairs again."
Celestine raised her right hand to shield her face, left hand pointing at Milo, sharp gaze fixed, smile confident.
Before she could finish, Milo lunged, leg extended at her face. She caught it easily, leaving him stunned.
"Fast… but not fast enough…" he thought.
He stepped back and launched a rapid flurry of punches. She dodged effortlessly, retreating with smooth, confident movements, her gentle smile never fading, every motion precise as if toying with him.
Milo stopped, breathing deeply, whispering to himself:
"She's too fast… I need a plan…"
Celestine stood calmly, hand lifted to her mouth in a silent gesture.
"What… have you given up so quickly?"
Her smile remained, hinting at mockery and control. Milo stepped forward again, repeating his initial kick, raising his other leg for a new strike.
Celestine's sharp eyes noticed the change immediately.
"Good… but your feint won't work on me," she said calmly, her voice steady as ever.
Milo expected her to anticipate his right leg, so he attacked with his left. She tilted her head back, narrowly avoiding it.
Frustrated, he focused and swung a punch at her head but she dodged effortlessly, moving backward with light, confident, perfectly calm steps.
Ten minutes passed, and Milo hadn't landed a single hit. Panting, sweat dripping down his face, he muttered:
"Damn… I couldn't even hit her once…"
Celestine looked at him with a slight smile.
"What… are you tired already? We've only just begun," she said, her voice calm and teasing.
Milo gave her a determined smile.
"No other choice, then."
He gathered his remaining energy, a fierce aura beginning to radiate from him.
"I'll bet everything I've got left," he said, focusing every ounce of his strength.
Milo's energy flared deep red, swirling around him, his left eye glowing with intensity.
Celestine's eyes widened.
"Ah… your unique ability," she whispered, intrigued.
Milo hunched slightly, hair thickening, dark red aura pulsating around him. A determined smile appeared.
"Are you ready?" he asked, voice steady.
Celestine studied him.
"You look… different. Alright, show me what you've got."
He stepped forward but suddenly stumbled, collapsing. His aura vanished; he lay unconscious.
Celestine froze, eyes fixed on him, sighing softly.
"So… you failed? I can't blame you… you were exhausted."
She leaned forward to check him, then abruptly froze and stepped back with astonishing speed.
In the dim alley, a tall figure stood, green hair falling over his face, a large scythe in hand, blade gleaming.
Toxivar knelt beside Milo, a faint, mocking smile.
"Hmmm… looks like you lost again, Milo."
Celestine's sharp eyes fixed on him.
"Who… who are you?"
Toxivar ignored her, focusing on Milo.
"You know… someday, you'll join the troublemakers too, won't you?"
Celestine lunged, grabbing Milo's hand and aiming it toward Toxivar's neck. He stepped back just in time, green hair brushing his face.
She pulled Milo close, eyes locked on Toxivar, body radiating controlled tension.
Toxivar smiled, sinister yet calm.
"What are you doing?"
Celestine's eyes locked on him, sharp and unwavering.
"This question is for you," she said firmly. "What are you doing here?"
The street was tense and silent, Milo unaware at her side.
Toxivar sighed, tilting his head, a wicked smile spreading.
"Ah… I guess I'll just have to kill you. Then I'll take Milo with me."
His grip tightened on the scythe, green hair shifting in the breeze, eyes predatory.
Celestine smiled, calm and amused.
"Oh, boy… did you hit your head on something? Kill me?"
Without breaking eye contact, she pulled out her phone.
"Hello. Yes, I'm fine, thank you. Just dealing with a small… issue. A strange boy is threatening me. Could you take care of him? I'm busy. Thank you."
She ended the call, lowering the phone, calm and unbothered, eyes still locked on Toxivar.
Toxivar lunged, scythe cutting the air, aiming for her neck.
"Bring whoever you want… I'll kill you, kill them, take what I want."
Celestine didn't move, only sighed, as if humoring a child.
"Not even scared?"
Her tone sharpened, commanding:
"Tier four technique: Wind Walk."
A burst of green wind launched her upward, Milo secure in her arms. White hair streamed behind her as she soared, glancing back at Toxivar with a teasing, relaxed smile.
"Catch me if you can."
As the wind settled, she stood on a high ledge overlooking him.
Below, Toxivar glared up, rage blazing, a dark aura seeping from him.
He gripped his scythe, charging it with liquid green energy that hissed on the pavement like poison.
Celestine moved lightly across rooftops, a shadow between buildings.
Then Toxivar leapt into the air, energy blazing, a sinister smile on his lips.
Celestine's eyes widened.
"O-oh…"
Toxivar spun, raising his scythe.
"Toxic Dragon Strike!"
A green beam erupted, forming a dragon's jaw that surged toward Celestine.
The force threw Toxivar backward, slamming him to the ground. Toxic energy crackled, dripping like molten venom, casting a deadly glow.
The dragon-jaw beam tore through the sky, toxic droplets raining onto the streets and rooftops. Some Novara guards froze, eyes wide in shock.
"What… what is that?!" one of them exclaimed.
Celestine's eyes narrowed, staring at the beam heading straight for her.
"This insane boy… this attack could kill Milo and me both!" she thought.
Celestine activated her technique: Tier 2: Barrier.
A violet shield materialized around her.
"Haah! Block it!"
The toxic dragon beam slammed into the barrier, cracking it. She released Milo, raising both hands.
"Haahhhhhh!"
A massive explosion shook the streets. Bystanders froze.
Toxivar sat on the ground, a twisted smile.
"She blocked it…"
Toxic droplets burned Celestine's hand and thigh, but she clenched her teeth, carrying Milo.
"Hurry, catch that boy before he escapes! Don't worry about me."
Exhausted, she muttered:
"I'll leave the rest to the Novara police."
Toxivar glared at his glowing scythe. Police surrounded him.
"You are under arrest," one officer declared.
The scanner failed.
"He might be from outside Novara," another muttered.
Toxivar stood slowly, dusting off his clothes, wicked grin spreading.
"You're all so annoying… I'll kill every single one of you tonight."