As the dust settled from the forceful impact, a hush fell over the crowd, the stunned silence magnifying the gravity of the situation.
All eyes were now locked on the fallen Mage Knight, his once menacing presence reduced to a crumpled heap on the ground. His pride was wounded as much as his face.
Atlas, standing tall and unyielding, exuded an aura of controlled fury. The veins on his forehead throbbed with a mixture of adrenaline and determination.
He cast a protective glance toward the injured girl and her bleeding brother, a silent promise etched in his eyes that he would defend them at any cost.
Dante felt a surge of conflicting emotions coursing through his veins. He understood Atlas's impulsive act was driven by a desire to shield the children and prevent further harm.
Yet, the repercussions of this brazen assault on a Mage Knight, a symbol of authority, were undeniable. They had crossed a line that could not be easily redrawn.
As the onlookers began to regain their composure, whispers of shock and disapproval permeated the air. The atmosphere crackled with tension, teetering on the edge of chaos.
Dante knew they had to act swiftly to diffuse the volatile situation before it erupted into something far more dangerous.
But, the dwindling glimmer of hope for a peaceful resolution abruptly vanished as the unfolding scene took on a foreboding turn.
A squadron of mages, perched atop majestic flying creatures, descended upon them with an unmistakable air of authority.
The sight of their arrival cemented the stark reality that the situation had spiraled beyond the control of Dante and Atlas.
These mages, privileged to traverse the skies under the domain of Queen Isadora, embodied the extent of their power and influence.
The distant rhythm of mighty wings reverberated through the air, casting a shadow of impending consequences. Dante's heart sank under the weight of their mere presence.
The group of mages, their faces veiled in an aura of superiority, closed in on Dante and Atlas, their eyes a mix of curiosity and disdain.
Their arrival obliterated any possibility of negotiation or peaceful resolution.
It became apparent at a glance that their noble blood granted them a position of absolute authority in the Kingdom of Britannia.
The dichotomy between the noble and the commoner left no room for doubt as to who would be deemed right or wrong in their eyes.
As the group of mages encircled Dante and Atlas, their demeanor exuded an unspoken superiority that further deepened the divide between social classes.
One mage, with an air of entitlement, stepped forward, his voice carrying a haughty tone.
"You dare raise your hand against a Mage Knight?" he sneered, his words laced with disdain.
"Such insolence from commoners like you will not go unpunished."
Dante felt a surge of defiance rise within him, but he quickly suppressed it, knowing that their chances of prevailing against these formidable mages were slim.
He exchanged a wary glance with Atlas, silently communicating the urgency of their current situation.
Atlas, his expression a blend of defiance and restraint, spoke with a voice that commanded attention.
"I acted out of necessity, to protect those who were defenseless against the Mage Knight's abuse of power," he declared, his tone resolute.
"If the law fails to protect the innocent, then I must take matters into my own hands."
The lead mage scoffed, his eyes narrowing in contempt.
"Your words reek of rebellion and defiance," he retorted.
"But I assure you, there will be consequences for your audacity."
The tension in the air thickened as if charged with the anticipation of an impending clash. The onlookers held their breath, their eyes darting anxiously between the two opposing forces.
Suddenly, a commanding voice resonated from the outskirts of the crowd. "Hold!"
All eyes turned toward the source of the interruption, revealing a figure draped in a resplendent robe of blue, adorned with intricate patterns that resembled crackling lightning.
It was none other than James, one of the Crown Jewels of Queen Isadora, a duo revered by the commoners and both feared and despised by the nobility.
A collective gasp rippled through the onlookers, a mix of awe and anticipation spreading like wildfire.
James and Sarah, despite lacking noble lineage, possessed an unparalleled connection to the Queen.
To the commoners, they were revered as godlike figures, symbols of hope and justice. But within the noble court, their presence stirred deep-seated disdain, a manifestation of the age-old belief that commoners should never infiltrate the realm of the aristocracy.
The mages, bound by their ingrained biases, hesitated for a moment, their disdain evident in their eyes. Yet, even they could not fully dismiss the authority carried by a Crown Jewel.
A subtle shift in their posture revealed their grudging acknowledgment of James' higher standing.
James, his voice resonating with unwavering confidence, addressed the mages with a tone that brooked no argument.
"You will heed the command," he declared, his words laced with a subtle warning.
With a tinge of sorrow lingering in his voice before swiftly dissipating, he uttered, "Respect the sanctity of my authority, something gained at a heavy price."
Reluctantly, the mages yielded, their arrogance tempered by the weight of the moment. They stepped back, their eyes avoiding direct contact with James, a tangible display of their begrudging compliance.
"Explain yourselves," James commanded, his voice unwavering. "Why have you resorted to such violence against a Mage Knight?"
Dante and Atlas shared a fleeting glance, acknowledging the significance of the moment. With a composed expression , Atlas took a step forward, carefully selecting his words.
"Your Eminence, I was compelled to resort to such extreme measures due to the profound injustices perpetrated by this Mage Knight.
"My actions were driven by the desire to safeguard the children and uphold the fundamental principles of humanity, which I perceived to be lacking in his conduct."
"The world has long been governed by the dictum of 'might is power,' but in the face of defenseless children who never stood a chance, such an act would demand the retribution of this Mage Knight's life," Atlas proclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at the wounded mage.
"How dare..." the mage began to retort, only to be silenced by James' commanding voice.
James' gaze softened marginally, his regal poise momentarily giving way to a glimmer of empathy.
"Violence is not the path to justice," he responded his tone a delicate balance of reprimand and comprehension.
"However, your intention to protect the children is commendable. It is a quality I would expect from the son of Thorn 'Ironfist'."
James spoke, a trace of nostalgia crossing his face as he recollected a memory from his 500 years of existence—a memory of a determined young boy, with a mane of black locks, diligently training in the Vitalis Technique, eventually growing up to become the legendary figure known as "Iron Fist."
"But unfortunately, you cannot be allowed to go free, as that would undermine the authority of the Queen's chosen Mage Knights.
Therefore, there will be consequences, something Thorn wouldn't approve of but will inevitably occur," James stated, his confident voice signifying the finality of the matter. What he said at that moment became law.
His formidable strength and authority granted him this right, and both young men understood it perfectly.
Dante, having grown up among corrupt adults who would do anything to survive, knew that their actions would be deemed justifiable based on their strength.
Atlas, on the other hand, had essentially grown up on a battlefield, understanding that the victor determined what was right.
Bang!
The sound resonated as the mana emerald bars of the cell closed around Dante and Atlas, imprisoning them.
This was no ordinary cell; a Signature Rune was inscribed within, preventing any form of magic from being activated.
While less complex than the cells reserved for notorious criminals within the facilities of the Military Task Force, it was still effective confinement.
Turning to Atlas, Dante posed the question that had lingered in his mind even during their intense encounter with mages. "What exactly happened back there..?"
Uncharacteristically, Dante asked this question, as for the first time in a while, he found himself questioning whether he had made the "right" decision this time.
His dual-colored eyes met Atlas' green ones, hoping that his above-average intelligence could extract some meaningful information—a piece of knowledge he had no idea what to do with, but desired nonetheless.