At that moment, Sévir pondered his decisions.
He could go the risky route and charge down and fight with his air magic.. He immediately threw it out of the window, he didn't want to show excessive potency.
Well besides that, staying and doing whatever he could was the only decision.
He drew his dagger and slashed the air, sending forth a ripple in hopes of hitting the bandits.
"They kept shooting like they had infinite bullets." he commented, briefly recalling Yasume's ability to shoot endlessly by repeatedly cocking.
His brows raised in surprise as Venice walked over the barrier and descended the hill.
"What are you doing?"
She glanced back. "You aren't coming?"
He folded his arms. "Why would I?"
"You're my friend."
What kind of reason was that?, he thought. Her carelessness didn't sit right with him at all, but did he really care?
If she dies, then it's her fault.
Sévir noticed the sneaky smile on her face as she stepped closer. "Come on, it will be fun!" she pulled him over by the wrist, nearly stumbling him in the process.
"Oi! Let go of me!" he didn't want to admit it, but his wrists started to hurt—her grip was insanely strong.
He looked back at the knights, but they didn't seem to even care.
"Just to let you know, we're allowed to charge down whenever we want to, we aren't really under the Trystan Knights' leadership."
He didn't know whether he should be assured or not.
A hail of bullets fired upon them, only to burn and liquify when they reached a metre away.
He narrowed his eyes as it ticked all the boxes; the range, the reload speed—they used rifles, not muskets.
At last, she let go of him as they nearly reached the top. "Hey Junior, wanna see a trick?"
He raised a brow, and without waiting for an answer, her hand glowed
brighter.
A green magic circle formed beneath her, its runes and symbols foreign to the likes of Sévir.
It quickly trailed through the grass in lines until it reached the bridge, bringing forth a faint glow that revealed the first lines of bandits and how they effortlessly fell to the ground.
She knew her stuff, no doubt. From the bandits' reactions, he could only think of one magic. "Are you using [Poison Magic]?"
She quickly shot a glance. "Quite impressive, right?"
No doubt. "But you know what's more impressive? Making the magic circles like I am."
He darted between her and the circle. He had to admit, not even he knew how to make a bright enough and long-lasting circle.
"Oddly enough, they never teach this beneath sixth years but," she walked forward, "magic circles actually amplify your spell power."
"I never knew that." He knew that much, yet settled on playing dumb so as to not raise suspicion.
She chuckled. "Don't lie, I'm sure you know it, you're a former prince."
More bodies dropped as they inched closer and her spell lengthened.
While not entirely, he could definitely see the satisfaction in her face. "You seem to enjoy this."
"Indeed, but my mana doesn't." She wiped the sweat off her forehead.
"Well said," he observed her face, "you seem to have pretty low mana."
"Just..Average." she replied with a weaker voice.
An average man could already tell she was weakening. He glanced at his dagger and her, torn between the choice to let her be or take over.
As he gripped his dagger and stepped forward, a large purple spark ignited at the bridge, dropping more bodies that simply just died as Venice stepped closer.
He turned around, an odd sense of familiarity lingering in his heart.
Surely enough, it was Meredith antics. They locked gazes and she waved at him, but he just looked back.
If Sévir had any desire, then that was to avoid Meredith, and he couldn't understand why either.
Pushing those thoughts aside, he attempted to step in and slash the bandits with his air magic, only to be discouraged as Meredith landed another shot on them with her explosive anti-magic.
And another.
And another.
"Venice, stop."
She looked at him. "Why?"
"Mer.. Her Grace is already dealing with them from afar, your poisoning isn't needed."
She put her arm down with a slight frown, as if he said something wrong. She didn't argue however, and sat down as she caught her breath.
Did she not have any situational awareness? They were literally in the middle of a battlefield, or at least a slowly developing one.
"Poisoning is costly, you know? But it gets the job done easily."
She stood again with a prideful smile. "At least I have amazing mana quality."
He rolled his eyes. "Okay." Unwilling to hear boasting, he made it clear in his tone.
A bang erupted and a pebble-sized explosion formed. His eyes narrowed and he moved aside, slicing through the bullet with his mere dagger.
It was to say the least, smoothly done, and it seemed to have caught Venice's intention. "You're fast."
It was more like he anticipated it given how recklessly open and forward they were, which he frowned upon.
"I just anticipated." If only he was in his assassin attire, he could charge in and slice them up.. But right now, he was just a mere student.
"Sévir" a familiar masculine voice called out from behind.
He turned back, his gaze meeting Percival's, who ran down the hill to catch up. "Percival?"
He caught his breath. "I caught up as fast as I could, you guys can't go in alone."
Sévir waved it off. "Oh, no, I was just coerced into going with this lady," he said calmly.
"Let me come with you at least." A clone separated from behind.
Venice turned around with a smile. "You're quite generous," she reached out for his shoulder, "what's your name, Junior no. 2?"
Sévir noticed the faint panic in Percival's eyes as he stepped back a little to avoid her hand. She probably noticed it too.
"..I'm Galath, Percival Galath." he whirled to his clone, followed by a nod as if they spoke through their minds.
The clone walked past Sévir, Venice following suit as her circle glowed brighter and range expanded.
"You seemed to be panicked when she was about to touch you," Sévir pointed out, "did you develop fear for girls or something?"
"That's not it." Percival walked past him, an unmistakable hint of coldness in his voice.
Unbothered, he looked up the hill and noticed the twins descending the hill. Turning back, he followed the three who bravely marched towards the bridge.
He was expecting some deadlock encounter as they sat comfortably in the hill, but that apparently won't be the case.
.
.
.
As quickly as they captured the bridge, they immediately evacuated after the arrival of the actual wave they anticipated. Their combined magics were powerful, but the sheer numbers left them choiceless.
Percival stumbled over the dead bodies more than once, nearly rendering him dead meat. Sometimes Sévir can't help but wonder if Percival's all 5-1 got as the second best in the section. Compared to the likes of 5-2, it was evident Meredith came second.
Sévir sat beside Percival amidst the ranged battle between the Knights and bandits. "Hey."
"What?" he replied with hostility.
Truthfully, it caught Sévir off-guard, but even so, "You made quite the show earlier," he remained calm.
But not the former, who shot a glare. "Gonna make fun of me?"
Sévir noticed how much he sounded on the edge. "No," he shook his head, "You know I don't do that."
Percival looked away with a faint sigh. "Sorry."
Sévir couldn't understand why, but something in him urged Percival to open up when he really couldn't care less.
Uncertainty lingered as he held back in asking, the air begging for unanswered questions to be filled.
He sighed resignedly and bit the bullet. "Percival."
"Yeah?"
"What really happened four days ago?"
Percival's brows raised, caught off-guard by Sévir's bluntness.
"Why do you care?" he asked harshly, his eyes guarded.
Sévir folded his arms. "We're friends, aren't we? You always say that."
Percival definitely couldn't argue with that, and as quickly as he waged war, he surrendered.
"It's.. Not that easy to say, you know?" his voice turned burdened. "After what I faced there.."
"But you want to say everything, right?"
From Percival's subtle shock, it seemed like Sévir hit a bullseye. "No person desires to hide everything forever, they want to spit it out, but they're always held back," he faced him, "isn't it the same for you?"
Percival gulped and looked around their surroundings, then leaned closer and whispered. "Okay, I'll tell you.."
Sévir leaned in.
"..I wasn't overwhelmed, Ms. Ardell was onto me when she hinted that she inspected where I was last seen."
He raised a brow. "Then what?"
"I..I—"
"Oi, you two!" the stern voice of a guy their age filtered through the anticipating air.
They both looked back, their eyes landing on Damon, who wore his signature frown. "What are you guys doing here? Are you going to make us do all the work!?"
"..No.." Percival said weakly.
"Then get over here!"
Though hard to tell at first, Sévir noticed Damon's eyes were locked onto Percival than him, and the glint of fear in the latter's eyes was unmistakable.
Percival stood up and rushed over to Damon. While he couldn't be 100%, he had an inkling that Damon was behind it.
The further thought of it widened his eyes in realisation—it made too much sense.
He recalled the time he fought against a light mage after defeating several gangsters, only to find out he actually effortlessly slammed on Damon—why was he there? Why was he working with the gangsters?
His gaze landed on Damon's back as the thoughts whirled around. Sévir has been in the world of crime for seven years, part of his missions were investigations to get a lead on who to assassinate next.
He no longer doubted anything—Damon was definitely involved with Percival's capture.
Sévir could clearly remember the day Percival returned.
…
Sévir was dragged against his will by Minerva, who refused to listen to his protests as she gripped his wrist.
"Where are you even taking me? Someone might see us, idiot."
"Don't you want to see Percival?"
"Why do I have to??"
They stopped in front of a sliding door. "You'll see why."
She slid the door open, revealing Percival who faced the bright window.
Sévir gasped weakly from the back alone—bloody and bruised was all it was as the reddish bandages hung down his hips.
Beside Percival was a modestly dressed woman, her staff, design and colours of her dress hinting association with divinity—a [Priestess],
Percival slowly turned back, his weak gaze meeting Sévir's.
…
It was no different from that day.
The burning sensation in his heart that shook his knuckles so intensely. He couldn't get why he felt so much for him, but it is what it is.
He shot a glare up Damon's back, unable to care if he could sense it.
With deep breaths, Sévir relaxed himself and walked forward to join the fight. He couldn't do anything reckless for Percival if there would be so much at stake.
He stared down the charging waves of crying bandits, all of which fell one by one to the rain of yellow light, green poison, and purple anti-magic.
His helping hand wouldn't be needed, he thought, but it could wipe them out faster.
He aimed his dagger down and shut his eyes, carving the image of a tornado within the dark confines. His veins burned slightly as he mana flowed to his dagger.
Sévir opened his eyes once more, the image still visible. The air grew cold and flew eastwards in a revolution.
From the corner of his eye, he could see the confusion in his teammates' faces, but he couldn't care less.
All he wanted was to get this over with, and that's what he'll do.
He relaxed his arm, prompting the veins to burn hotter, but it was assurance that the mana was flowing without constraint.
With the uneven twirl of his dagger, a torrent of wind blew the waves of bandits off the ground, their screams muffled as the tornado whooshed loudly.
It trailed down and headed to the bridge under his precise control, helping in avoiding their camp and everyone from flying away.
Damon turned to him while still gripping the sandbags, the shock evident in his eyes. "You.. How did you do that!?"
He looked at him nonchalantly. "I'm a Doren, what are you so shocked about?"
A "tch" escaped Damon's mouth as he turned away, unable to argue with that fact.
For Damon's calibre, he was surrendering quite easily. Eitherway, Sévir couldn't be more thankful since it meant less interaction.
Sévir's breath hitched when his eyes accidentally locked with Meredith's as he watched Damon walk away, the former whirling away when he realised.
It was simply too awkward, especially when he made the decision to push her away.
He looked down and noticed the sheer silence of the battlefield, one so lively just a few seconds ago.
Certainly, dealing with an army of bandits was easier on Sévir compared to dealing with Ayuna back in The Forbidden
Damon shot up a bright beam of light directly above the bridge, and not a single living bandit was in sight.
With assurance, Sévir walked deep into the camp, passing by soldiers, lanterns and tents until he arrived at one at the very corner.
He cleared his throat. "Is anyone here?" he pulled the cloth serving as a door away as he entered.
From across was a simple white bed able to fit a body and a half. To the left, a wide table housing two silver spears and a sword, and to his right, two more beds of the same features as the first.
The distance to the other side was quite long compared to the beds to his right, but he very much preferred taking the corners, but to be cornered is a different story.
With no one but his gentle breathing and the rustle of the mattress in his stead, he laid down and stared up the dim ceiling.
The small but burning pain in his left arm resurfaced as he slightly leaned leftwards, forcing him to straighten.
"I was hoping this already healed."
Besides that, a harmless type of surprise jolted him when he realised just how comfortable the bed was, which he didn't expect given it was issued by the army.
Maybe the Trystan Knights had it easier than he thought.
Whatever it was, he surrendered to the sudden flood of drowsiness that weighed his eyes.
As he closed them, his thoughts returned to what caused the pain in his arm.
…
Running at full speed was no challenge for Sévir, usually at least for the first half.
His legs were engaged and his energy flowed freely, and in a matter of seconds, he had already turned the corner coming from the long street.
But he couldn't ignore what, or who was riding his back—Minerva.
It's not that she was heavy, no, she was lighter than he expected, but he definitely lacked in carrying people at full sprint when for him, Sanguinex was as light as a newborn.
He could feel her subtle movement as she looked back to track Ayuna, who was tailing them with glee.
"She's messed in the head!" Sévir stated the obvious, unamused.
"She crushes heads for a living, what do you expect!?"
"Seriously??"
"She's getting closer!" she exclaimed in urgency.
He could feel his back getting heavier but not because of his passenger. He relaxed his body as he let the burning mana flow through all his vessels.
Both blended with the light and accelerated as fast and far as possible, eager to escape the psychotic Ayuna's eyes.
Sévir prematurely ended the spell as they entered an alleyway and turned another corner deeper.
He panted as silently as possible, not wanting to be caught by Ayuna's sharp ears.
He turned over his shoulder. "Got any friends here?" he whispered.
Minerva nodded. "His name's Nell. You passed by his place while you were being chased by Ayuna."
"Interesting," he adjusted her position to have an easier time carrying her, "so you don't become dead meat, you'll be my navigator."
"Sure, I'll lead you to his place."
He nodded and exerted mana and energy to his feet, jumping high as his feet glowed green.
Just as he hoped the coast was clear, he stumbled upon landing on a roof, shock jolting through him as if an iron fist punched him hard on his left arm.
"Gotcha!" said the gleeful voice of a psychopath. He didn't need to turn around to figure out it was Ayuna waiting for them this whole time.
Sévir gritted his teeth to hold in a yelp. At the same time, he channelled all mana and strength to his right foot.
He stomped the roof, the earth rising to his command as it pierced through the house and shielded them from her following barrage of light beams.
He tucked her legs tight. "Wrap your legs around me, we're going for another spin."
Right as she did just that, he wasted no time in channelling his mana into blending with the light and dashing out of the area as fast as he could go.
The air within the cave coldly brushed against them just like earlier, their surroundings distorted and constantly changing as they zoomed by.
He slowed down at one point, aware Minerva wouldn't catch up to the speed and lead him to where they needed to go.
At the same time, he didn't want to let up too much when Ayuna was faster and could easily catch up.
…
Sévir's eyes slowly opened, taking in the faint brightness of the waking sky through his peripherals.
From the corner to his right, he noticed white cloth that most likely made up a shirt and black beneath that made up a skirt.
There was no doubt when he noticed the curves it hugged. He turned his head to the right, his eyes meeting a pair of grape purple that were partly covered by her brown blackwood hair, which also covered most of her bare shoulders.
She wore a bashful smile that went with the pink hue in her cheeks. There was no malice behind her eyes, but she was indeed sneaky to be lying beside and seemingly watching him as he slept.
"Oh, you caught m—"
He deliberately pushed her off the bed with his right arm, the latter scrambling to catch herself. He sat up and stretched upwards as she stabilised. "Sévir?? What was that for???"
He couldn't deny she sounded like Sanguinex there. Who wouldn't when they get pushed aside at or off the bed?
"Why are you here?" he asked tonelessly.
Meredith stood up and walked to the table. "Everyone's eating breakfast, you're the only one asleep." she grabbed a humble basket and returned to the bed with it.
In the basket were two slightly flat spheres of red apples and one green apple, its brightness and fruity smell hinting at freshness.
He met her eyes again. She really didn't have to go an extra mile and serve him these. But the thought of it evoked a lighter air around him.
"It can't be helped." He took the green apple and bit off a portion.
She pleasantly giggled. "That was my apple."
He glanced at her then back at the apple. What could she do? He already bit it anyway.
"But that's fine, it's all yours."
As his brain started to tick more, he realised he was only wearing his white buttoned sleeves and his gloves were missing.
Looking around, he noticed his jacket was neatly folded beside hers at the table, and the gloves were on top.
"Those rings.."
He gazed down his right hand—three metal and two golden rings wrapped close to his knuckles. All of which housed green gems
How could he forget? All of them were an important heirloom.
"Right," she tucked hair behind her ears, "your family loves jewellery."
He found himself a little surprised that she remembered something like that.
As thoughtful as it was, tension loomed in the air as his brain began to fully process things and realised it was Meredith talking to him.
He refused to meet her gaze and just stuck it at the apple as he ate.
She got off the bed and walked to the table again. "Sévir, can we talk later?"
He hesitated for a moment. He hoped he could avoid the day he would have to talk things with her—his estranged fiancée.
He shrugged, trying to feign nonchalance. "There's nothing to talk about, isn't there?"
She put on her jacket. "Dummy, there's a lot to talk about."
Seeing the opening in her words, he shot his shot. "That said, what happened to the battle?"
Silence ensued and he knew exactly what it meant. Because of it, he couldn't dare to face her.
A subtle sigh escaped her mouth. "Their early attack was preemptive, they actually arrived with full force at midnight.. Or so we thought."
He raised a brow as he listened.
"They were much smaller than we anticipated, so the job got quite easy."
It seemed like the syndicate actually sent assassins as he hoped to sabotage them. From what she said, they definitely did big damage.
He nodded and bit the apple.
"We'll be going back in a few hours. Come out of the tent when you're done."
She left the tent, leaving him to his own devices.
A hint of disappointment lingered to the thought of being unable to see the battle, or the one-sided onslaught unfold, but he won't complain when he gets a sufficient amount of rest.
His thoughts darted back to Sanguinex and her bad mood.
Right, he had to get her a gift if he didn't want to suffer an eternity in hell. That said, the only thing he granted her were mana kisses, how in hell would he figure out what she'd like as a gift?
He rubbed his temples with his left hand. "Girls are complicated."
He could be the smartest guy in town, make that the world, but the puzzle to attain the girls' book of enlightenment was daunting and unsolvable for his likes.
It wasn't so much that he was a dense jerk,—actually, he couldn't really deny that, but it was more like he could care less about a woman's heart when he's been focused on making ends meet through the West Capital Organization, and all his time with Sanguinex added nothing when he factored in her affection and craziness. He wasn't going to think all the girls love him like a certain Undefeated member, in fact, they all seemed to hate him since the very moment he transparently introduced himself as Sévir van Doren; the Pariah Prince, the nation's most hated prince.
He gazed down at the basket and took another apple. He ought to finish them faster if he wanted to get to work.