The clash of metal, the bangs of gunpowder, the conjuring of magic, and the screams of the courageous filtered through the winter air. The street, once silent from Martial Law, became a battlefield for the wrongdoers.
The uniform-armoured knights stacked in rows just like the mixed counterparts, Their gunners and mages stood from behind, carefully aiming so as to not inflict friendly fire.
A silver-haired man and a brown blackwood-haired woman that wore similar uniforms ran from roof to roof, taking down any perceived bandits beneath and in front with the woman's powerful anti-magic.
A flurry of bullets hailed onto them, though unsuccessful as Sévir turned them around by manipulating the wind with his dagger, returning to sender.
"You're quite.. cold with your.. methods." Meredith spoke as if amazed.
Realising the exposure of their position, he nudged her to the chimney so they could take cover. "Nothing about this is cold."
"Really?"
He gazed at her coldly. "Would you prefer them to kill us?"
She shook her head.
"Thought so."
"Say, can't you just swoop everyone out of here with a tornado?"
That was a very reasonable thought. He could destroy all the houses as he pleased, all fingers would be pointed at Faris anyway.
However, "It's a hassle." he didn't want to show his power. "Controlling your magic is hard when you have great mana quality."
She chuckled. "True. Takes me back to when you were inches away from destroying the palace with one."
His brows instinctively knitted, remembering the time he was scolded by Zigo for it. "Forget that."
The heavy air had wrapped around him for long, though unclear whether it was due to the battle or Meredith's presence.
He stuck his silver hair out and hid the moment piercing objects zipped past them. With confirmation of a lack of ready guns, he sent burning mana through his feet and jumped high in the air, slashing forward turbulent winds with his dagger. The gunners were essentially defenceless when they spent "years" reloading their muskets.
He safely dropped to the roof, the cries of agony from his targets muffled by the ongoing bloodbath to their left.
Fighting above from the roofs gave an advantage, though it wasn't exactly the fastest method if they wouldn't eliminate the core targets.—That much Sévir was aware of.
The mages were the core—if he could tread deeper, he could eliminate their mages and attack from behind without much worries.
From the quick glance onto Meredith, he could tell she probably had the same thoughts. The only way they could do it was by going forward.
He stood up from his crouched position, wasting no time to jump onto the next roof. From the sound right behind, he could tell Meredith was following.
This time they'll keep going straight. Her anti-magic paired with his diverse range were certainly enough. So he thought. Nobody was around in the other streets, hinting the one street they were at was the only battlefield.
He couldn't find answers as to why that was the case, but it would be better for them for what they were going to do.
From the method of attack, it dawned on him that they were far behind and launching ranged attacks like catapults—fireballs, boulders and the like.
Grabbing onto the next chimney, he jumped high with the air in his feet manipulated. Sévir leaped over the roof with his eyes locked onto the six armoured targets using their bare hands and a mix of weapons as sources to conjure magic.
They reacted so fast, it was as if they anticipated his arrival. His body instinctively twisted despite the initial surprise, controlling the flow of his travel to dodge all the incoming hail of magic.
He ignored their loud murmurs and poised his dagger. It glowed green to the channel of mana through his veins, eager to cut.
He quickly transferred his strength to his left foot, cracking the road and blocking magic with the rise of earth.
"Take this." He pulled back his knife and thrusted it towards the earth, the latter shattering with its trajectory towards the mages through air manipulation.
Sévir figured out their armed silence could mean they were using Source Style. Though unsure, he had a hunch they were only bound to their respective magics: fire, water, and earth.
They parried the debris, the three fire mages erecting blazing walls that scattered and hid them from Sévir's sight.
He took a step back with his dagger up, his eyes darting around without a break.
The heat finally caught up to him as sweat slowly trailed his forehead.—The permanent warming spell of the uniform didn't help either, only warming up his body further in a bad way.
"Hot.." He couldn't deny their walls combined made the air burning and stinging to inhale,—that each alone were much hotter than the average fire mage.
There were three options left in his stead: He could play safe and end things fast by destroying his whole surroundings.—No, that went against his desire to inflict little to no destruction.
Then should he manipulate the wind and push the fire against them? That would certainly work, but it would likely spread around other houses.—He wasn't going to be a part-time firefighter.
Then the best option for him was to drown the fire with water. That's right, it was the easiest after all, and the safest in his situation.
The green glow transitioned to blue as he raised his dagger. As water rose around him, his legs slightly felt numb.
With the flick of the wrist, the pillars of water instantly expanded like a bomb. It was as loud as the turbulent seas and washed away three of the mages to the walls and the two far back.—All while extinguishing the grand walls of fire.
He was fortunate to be regularly using magic, if not then he would be spent. While much remained true—mana quantity and mana depletion, it was harder to feel when the body was used to it.
From the corner of his eye, a small and round golden object subject to gravity came by. There could only be one reason as to why that object was flying—it was an anti-magic-charged Zinari.
His body tensed in realisation. He instinctively jumped and floated through air manipulation. The coin landed, the purple zaps spreading throughout the wet road as if electrifying it.
He dared not to touch it and remained in the air. He turned to his right with a piercing glare and a racing heart towards the girl that sat at a roof with a smug smile.
"We handled it quite fast. Twenty seconds, maybe?"
"Are you trying to kill me or something?" the unmistakable anger escaped his voice. She only giggled and flipped a coin in her hand, much to his surprise.
"You don't have to be so angry about it, I knew you'd dodge it."
"That's not—"
"Well if you want me to cut it out," she folded her arms, "then talk to me! Keep dodging the inevitable then I'll seriously try to kill you."
He scratched the back of his hair. From the fiery look she gave, her words were transparent. Though was it really necessary to go this far into convincing him to quit resisting?
He couldn't deny the unfairness within their dynamic which he abused. But just like then, he steeled himself, unwilling to fold. "You're walking a path of thorns."
If there were any way.
"I know."
Any way to stop her.
"Then why do you keep going?"
Then he'll take it.
But if there was one thing he knew her well for.—"Because I'm not a loser. You know I don't give up what's mine.—" she pointed at him. "And you're mine! Since the day the shooting star passed the [Cordis Constellation], you've always been mine!"
His breath hitched, his body recoiled, and his heart skipped a beat.—That's right: He had to know her for her determination. He won't try figuring out if it was from her words and recollection of the past, or simply he got moved by her resolve, or maybe even weirded out by her constant belief of legends. Truth be told, not even Sanguinex could say the same thing with the same feel and make it feel so.. Correct..
Whatever it was, the playful air she quickly built up collapsed to the tense air of battle and something else.
She folded her arms and looked away with a "hmph" escaping her mouth, as if hinting her displeasure from his silence. "You're really not gonna say anything to your dear fiancée?"
"None." he coldly turned to his right. The bandits' backs were exposed from afar, busy fighting the knights in the main frontline. Indeed he had a lot to talk about with Meredith regarding their relationship, though he couldn't find reason to do so in battle.
With a sigh of defeat, she nodded. "Let's save this for later.. No running away this time."
He scoffed, but felt relieved nonetheless that she'd stop pressing him. Even more so with a mix of confusion as he pondered why the bandits weren't looking back. Were they this eager to die, or were they just inexperienced to where they forget to look back?
Whatever it was, Sévir resolved himself to end things quickly.—They barely posed a challenge anyway.
At least that's what he hoped for.
"Sévir!" Her urgent voice prompted him to turn around, his eyes widening as a hot and bright ball of inferno slowly grew.
Behind it were barely audible murmurs as if chanting its expansion. "..We need to get out of here!"
Leaving was not an option—not when everyone behind them will most likely burn to death as well. He was familiar with fireballs, and knew just how much the one in front of him sent a shiver down his spine.
If that was the case, then there was only one thing to do.
He floated forward and hid his dagger. He heard a weak gasp from behind.
Sévir was hoping for a quick fight with little infrastructural damage, "It can't be helped."
The wind up of the mages was slow, but charging in and killing them wasn't an option either.—The huge fireball wouldn't dispel but continue forward.—Massive casualties are to be expected.
He ignored the clanking of what could be coins from behind and focused on channelling all the mana through every vein in his body.
He ignored the clash of metal.
The lingering smell of gunpowder.
The heat of magic.
He shut his eyes and carved the image of the tides of the sea and the whoosh of the air layered within the space of darkness. The image remained in his vision even as he opened his eyes.
It all happened so fast—the growth of the fireball, the flow of mana, and now the rise of the tides from unknown sources. Wherever it came from, it answered Sévir's call.
The calm wind that brushed against his face slowly and coldly revolved around the area until it growled, untamed.
With the outline of his body glowing a mix of the blue sea and the green nature, he brought his right arm close to his chest, the forces of the world moving in tandem to him as if they were his extension.
He shifted sideways and thrusted his fist forward and opened his hand. The gurgling waves and the whistling wind pushed itself towards the roaring fireball that released at the same time.
A lone golden, but brightly purple object flew towards the water pushed by the wind. From the loud thump of the roof to his right, it had to have been Meredith.
A seed of wonder planted within.—Why did she throw the coin? Its brightness was exceptional. If it was that bright then it could most likely dissolve the three spells.
If that's the case, then that's fine.
The four magics out of the endless in the world collided, their distinct sounds joining to a loud, singular growl. The force of the collision sent toppling waves through those in the area, sending those unprepared down the ground.
He had originally expected the struggle between his and their power to turn out in his favour and send the weakened fireball away. That expectation shattered with both sides' unleashed forces engulfed by the speedy sparks of purple as they gradually vanished into thin air.
Sévir used the moment of confusion to dive in and surprise the mages. He dashed through the momentary wall of magic that could zap him with the growing anti-magic within. He caught the surprised looks of the mages when he emerged from the screen.
His left foot buried itself in the road and pivoted his body around when he swung around his green-glowing right. He picked up the momentum and unleashed a trail of turbulent wind in his heel's wake, sending it forward to bring the mages down to their butts.
They lost balance and fell as he expected. He brought his blue-glowing left fist up. Sharp pillars of ice crackled from the ground and stabbed through their frail bodies. The tips were soaked in red as they hung shocked and nearly motionless.
The intense light and heat brought upon the clash of magic disappeared, most likely subdued by the powerful anti-magic rather than the inevitable deaths of the involved.
He turned around and observed the stumbling mess of the knights and bandits alike, who were now just recovering from the force of the waves. Many looked back and quickly dispatched towards Sévir and Meredith as if discussed beforehand.
He glanced at Meredith who stared at him with conflicted eyes. Ah, of course, there could only be one reason why she gave him that look.—He remorselessly snatched four lives.
Perhaps she knew it had to be done, but the shelteredness of the academy who now sent their powerful students to unforgiving battles had to have caused moral dilemmas.
Sévir looked towards the charging bandits again who were only armed with a variety of melees.
He didn't understand. "Meredith, if you dislike the sight of death, and hate granting it even more, then leave." He didn't understand the need to warn her.
The blade of his drawn dagger glowed green as he poised it forward. "Because I won't be considerate and protect the innocence of your eyes, which have already seen the deaths of the four behind me."
After a moment of silence and the cries of men inching closer, he glanced left to the sound of a thump in the dry part of the cobblestone road.
Meredith stood from her landing, her right hand already buried in her brown pouch. "I'll be broke by the time this war ends.."
She was straightforward with her priorities. Or rather, she was probably concealing her hesitance by bringing up something else.
Now, the two "lovers" shall stand side by side in the face of death. Though that much could be an exaggeration,—the foes they were fighting weren't as strong as the divine anyway.
.
.
.
*
From across the two, sat a blonde man who shared the same grape eyes as Meredith. He sat on the edge of a chimney that overlooked the battlefield. Despite harbouring relative exposure, he kept his arms and legs folded, unbothered.
His eyes were glued at those two, and whoever attempted to distract him would receive immediate death from his light magic.
Still, he couldn't hide the small smirk in his lips.
"Oh, how would Father react if he found out that [leech] is with the [Pariah Prince]?"
His shoulders slightly shook to his chuckle. "I'm sure he'd be very.. Delighted."
Damon stood straight and fully locked his gaze onto Sévir. "You.." his eyes narrowed in resentment. "I get it now, I know who you are."
He pointed at his own smiling lips. " I just need to say the word, then the knights will arrest you.—No, maybe even [execute] you."
Having provided enough alone time to himself, he looked down, ready to rejoin the battle.
"I'll see you soon, [Little Gang Killer]."
He grabbed his staff resting on the chimney and pointed it at the wave. "<Radium Ahi>!" a ray of light conjured from the tip of his staff and zipped through multiple bandits.