The crowd fell silent as the figure in the arena slowly pulled back his hood. Gasps rippled through the stands as his face came into view—a mix of human and something other. His skin was pale, his eyes an unsettling grey without pupils, and what at first seemed like armor revealed itself to be an exoskeleton, smooth and formidable.
King Feynor's face drained of color as he took in the sight. "It can't be… Insectoids aren't supposed to… evolve."
The being's lips twisted into a cold smile. "For too long, we—the Insectoids—have been dismissed as nothing more than beasts, mindless animals to be hunted down."
He raised a hand, snapping his fingers, and another figure appeared beside him, bowing with quick obedience. "You called, Sir Lancer?"
"A change is coming to this world," Lancer intoned, his voice booming through the arena, filled with dark promise. "And it's time you all learned to embrace it. The first thing we require," he paused, his gaze sweeping over the gathered students and warriors, "are the children."
He raised an armored finger, pointing toward the royal box, where the world leaders were seated. "But first, let's clear the stage of any interference, especially certain… obstacles." His eyes flickered to the Spirit Queen and the Dragon King with a piercing, icy disdain.
The servant at his side lifted his hands and in a single blink, Queen Iris, Adonis and every other leader vanished from the arena.
"Perfect," Lancer said smoothly, turning back to the stunned crowd. "That should buy us some time." His focus shifted, unyielding, onto Zayn's group standing at the edge of the arena.
Beads of sweat trickled down Zayn's face, his eyes locked onto the white sphere hovering ominously above Lancer. This man had just removed some of the world's most powerful beings as if they were mere inconveniences, and the sphere was proof enough of his overwhelming magic.
"Now, now, children," Lancer called out with a chilling smile, "no need to make this difficult. You wouldn't want to cause any… unnecessary trouble. So, please," his voice grew softer, almost mocking, "come quietly."
Before Zayn or anyone else could react, the Silver Mages moved into action, hands raised to attack. But Lancer's servant merely raised his own hand, and in an instant, the mages vanished, their magic futile against him.
The servant scoffed, a faint smirk crossing his lips. "Foolish humans. They have no idea how truly powerless they are."
Then, a voice cut through the tense silence. "Hold it right there."
As the dust settled in the arena, Lancer's smirk faltered slightly when he noticed two figures who hadn't fled with the others. Daemon and Isolde stood calmly, their expressions unreadable. Lancer narrowed his eyes, recognizing that they weren't ordinary warriors. The yellow spheres hovering above their heads told him enough—they were strong, at least on his level. He hadn't expected anyone to pose a threat after the sudden assault on the world leaders.
"Well, well, it seems we've missed a couple of stragglers," Lancer muttered, masking his surprise. He quickly assessed the situation, realizing this might be more difficult than anticipated. With a flick of his fingers, several hooded minions materialized, their movements silent and ominous. "Deal with the children," he ordered, his voice dripping with disdain as he drew his sword. It was a blade of dark metal, unlike anything Daemon had seen before—pitch black and absorbing all light around it.
"What is that?" Daemon muttered, eyeing the weapon warily.
Lancer noticed his gaze and smirked. "Impressed? It's called Umbratite—a rare metal known only to the Myrmides. It's forged in the deepest hives of Tierra Alta, tempered by the venom of the Queen herself. No human should even be aware of its existence."
Daemon's grip tightened on his own blade. "Let's test if it's as dangerous as you say."
Isolde, standing beside him, activated her spatial magic, the air shimmering as she prepared to teleport them. "Ready, Daemon?" she asked, her voice surprisingly light despite the tension in the air.
He nodded, keeping his eyes locked on Lancer. "Get us out of here. We can't fight at full strength in the city."
With a wave of her hand, a tear in the fabric of space opened, and in an instant, they vanished from the arena. The world around them blurred and twisted, and when the scene refocused, they stood in a desolate field far outside the city walls. The sky above was dark, clouds swirling ominously as if sensing the impending clash.
"Interesting trick," Lancer remarked, his smile widening as he stepped forward, the chaotic red energy of his magic flaring up around him like wildfire. "But it won't save you."
Daemon's expression was cold, void magic swirling around him like a black mist. "I wasn't looking to be saved," he replied, stepping into his own battle stance. "I was looking to end this."
On the opposite side, Isolde squared off against Lancer's servant, her eyes gleaming with determination. The void mage grinned at her, already raising his hand to cast a spell, but she was faster. With a snap of her fingers, she teleported behind him, a shimmering dagger in her hand aimed straight for his back.
"Teleportation tricks won't help you here," the void mage sneered, turning and catching her blade with his bare hand, dark energy crackling as their magic clashed.
Isolde's smile didn't waver. "Who said I was relying on them?" she retorted, kicking him hard in the chest, sending him skidding back across the ground.
Meanwhile, Lancer lunged at Daemon, swinging the Umbratite blade in a wide arc. Daemon met the strike with his own sword, void magic surging to counter the chaotic red energy. The clash sent a shockwave rippling through the air, splitting the ground beneath their feet.
"Void magic?" Lancer asked, sounding genuinely intrigued as he pushed back against Daemon's strength. "It's rare to see a user this skilled. I almost feel lucky."
"Don't mistake rarity for luck," Daemon shot back, his eyes narrowing. "You've picked a fight you can't win."
"Is that so?" Lancer's grin turned feral as he unleashed a burst of chaotic energy, forcing Daemon to leap back. "I guess we'll see, won't we?"
Isolde and the void mage clashed again, their movements a blur as they teleported around the battlefield, striking and countering with speed that left afterimages in the air. Sparks flew as their blades met, the sound of metal on metal echoing like a deadly rhythm.
"Not bad," the void mage admitted, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip. "But you're outmatched."
Isolde gave him a mocking salute. "I've been outmatched before. You'd be surprised how often I come out on top."
Back with Daemon and Lancer, the ground was scorched with black and red streaks, evidence of their powerful attacks. Lancer's eyes gleamed with manic energy as he swung his Umbratite sword again, the blade humming with dark power.
"Tell me," Lancer said, his voice low and taunting, "have you ever faced Chaos magic before? It's the essence of unpredictability. Even you can't foresee its moves."
Daemon's response was a blast of void energy that erased his magic. "I don't need to predict it," he said calmly, stepping through the shadows like a ghost. "I just need to end it."
King Feynor's eyes snapped open, disoriented by the blindingly bright, featureless expanse around him. He couldn't recall what happened after Lancer's ambush, only that he had felt an overwhelming surge of magic before everything went dark.
"What in the world is this place?" he muttered, but his words seemed to get swallowed up by the vast emptiness.
Queen Selene's usually calm face showed a flicker of concern. "Where are we?" she demanded, scanning their surroundings. The other rulers exchanged uneasy glances, but none had an answer.
Feynor attempted to take a step forward, but a pale hand barred his way. It was Queen Iris, her expression serene despite the tension in the air. "Don't move," she warned, her voice carrying a weight that commanded immediate obedience. "You must stay within my magic's radius. This space is far more treacherous than it appears."
Selene frowned, her sharp eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?"
Iris's gaze swept across the group, her ethereal aura making her seem even more distant than usual. "We've been trapped in a realm filled with void magic," she explained. "If you step beyond the protective field I've created, you'll be obliterated—down to your very soul."
Rhedora's lips curled back in a snarl, the beastkin's frustration barely contained. "Then what do you suggest we do, spirit queen?" she snapped. "Are we just supposed to sit here and wait?"
Adonis, who had been silently assessing the space, turned his reptilian golden eyes to Iris. "I can try to tear open a rift," he offered, his deep voice steady. "My chaos breath might be able to disrupt this void, but it won't be quick."
Iris nodded, her gaze softening slightly as she met Adonis's. "It's a risk, but it may be our only option," she agreed. "I'll maintain the barrier while you prepare."
Feynor clenched his fists, a rare flicker of fear crossing his face. "And if it doesn't work?"
Queen Iris did not answer.