The Minotaur's fury was palpable. It was no longer fighting with mere strength—it was fighting with desperation. The relentless coordination of the knights and mages was wearing it down. Though the wounds were shallow, the pain and humiliation of being pushed to a disadvantage enraged the beast. Its crimson eyes flared brighter, and steam erupted from its nostrils in violent hisses.
It began lashing out wildly, its massive fists pounding the stone bridge with enough force to shake loose chunks of rock and send shockwaves rippling through the air. Yet no matter how hard it struck, the warriors moved with precision, avoiding its attacks and countering with devastating blows of their own. Spells continued to rain down upon the creature—fire singeing its fur, ice biting into its thick hide, and arcs of lightning dancing across its massive frame. Each strike chipped away at its endurance, and for the first time, the Minotaur staggered.
It roared in frustration, its voice echoing through the cavern like a clap of thunder. Its movements became erratic, its swings wider and less controlled. The warriors capitalized on its desperation, striking with even greater ferocity. A knight's blade sliced a deep gash across its arm, and a well-aimed fireball from a mage struck its chest. The beast howled, shaking its head violently as if trying to clear its thoughts. It was losing control.
And then, in a moment of furious clarity, the Minotaur made its move.
With a guttural roar, it bent its legs and leaped high into the air. Its massive form seemed to defy gravity for an instant, silhouetted against the faint light of the cavern. A shadow fell over the defenders as the beast reached the peak of its jump, its hulking frame blotting out everything beneath it. Time seemed to freeze as the Minotaur twisted in mid-air, its massive fists raised high above its head. The air itself seemed to vibrate with the raw power of the impending blow.
When it came crashing down, the impact was cataclysmic. The Minotaur's fists slammed into the bridge with a force that seemed to shake the very earth. Sir Andrew reacted instantly, slamming his staff into the ground with a desperate shout. A golden barrier of shimmering light materialized around the defenders, the magic surging outward like a dome to shield them from the full brunt of the attack.
But this time, the Minotaur's strength was too much. The barrier held for a fleeting moment, the golden light flickering under the immense, before it shattered with a deafening crack. The recoil from the breaking spell sent Sir Andrew staggering backward. His staff slipped from his grasp, clattering to the ground as he clutched his chest. Blood spurted from his mouth, staining his golden beard red, and he fell to one knee, panting heavily.
The breaking of the barrier left the defenders exposed. One of the imperial knights, stationed directly beneath the point of impact, had no time to react. The Minotaur's fists slammed into him with unrelenting force, crushing his armor like paper and reducing his body to little more than a bloody heap. The shockwave from the blow tore through the bridge, sending cracks spiderwebbing across the stone and dislodging massive chunks of debris.
The knights around the Minotaur struggled to maintain their footing as the bridge trembled violently beneath them. Some stumbled, their movements momentarily thrown into disarray. The Minotaur seized the opportunity. With a feral growl, it swung one massive fist in a wide arc, from left to right. The sheer speed and force of the attack created a gust of wind that buffeted the defenders.
One of the silver knights, a woman with a glowing blade, stepped forward to intercept the blow. She raised her sword, channeling her energy into the weapon to block the attack. The blade caught the Minotaur's fist, and for a moment, it seemed as though she had succeeded. But the sheer power of the swing was too much. Though the sword absorbed most of the impact, the knight was still sent flying backward. Her body slammed into the stone wall of the bridge with a sickening crunch. She crumpled to the ground, her armor dented and broken, but she was alive—barely.
As the Minotaur prepared another strike, the chaos around it intensified. Debris from the earlier attack continued to rain down, creating an uneven and treacherous battlefield. Alicia Roman, who had been leading the charge moments ago, slipped on the blood-slicked stone. She stumbled and fell, landing hard on her side directly in front of the advancing Minotaur. Her eyes widened as she realized her vulnerable position, and she scrambled to push herself up, her hands slipping on the crimson-stained ground.
The Minotaur's eyes locked onto her, its fury now directed at the knight commander who had dared to defy it. With a deafening roar, it raised its massive fist and launched a straight punch toward her, its movements filled with the raw, unrelenting power of desperation and anger. Alicia froze for a split second, the shadow of the beast's fist looming over her.
Before the blow could land, an imperial knight leaped into action. He moved with astonishing speed, throwing himself between Alicia and the Minotaur's massive fist. The creature's colossal strike connected with his armor, shattering it instantly. The sheer force of the blow sent him flying backward, his body hitting the ground with a sickening thud. He skidded across the blood-streaked stone, finally coming to a halt several feet away. His body lay motionless for a moment, his form battered and broken. Blood began to pool beneath him, staining the bridge's fractured surface.
Alicia's breath caught in her throat as she saw the knight lying still on the ground. Time seemed to slow, the chaos of the battlefield fading into a haunting silence. Her heart clenched painfully, her hands trembling as they tightened around the hilt of her twin swords. For a single moment, she was frozen—unable to move, unable to breathe. The image of the knight, who had selflessly thrown himself into harm's way, burned into her mind. His armor, once shining and proud, was now shattered and covered in blood.
Alicia's wide eyes flicked between the fallen knight and the Minotaur, who loomed over her like a nightmare made flesh. The beast was already preparing to launch its second strike, its massive fist pulling back as its crimson eyes burned with unrelenting fury. The sheer size of the monster made her seem impossibly small in comparison, like a single flickering candle in the face of a raging storm.
But then… something changed.
The knight's hand twitched, and a ragged cough escaped his lips. His eyes fluttered open, though pain was etched deeply into his features. Slowly, painfully, he turned his head toward Alicia. His gaze locked onto her, and for a fleeting moment, his expression softened. Despite the blood trailing from his mouth and the agony visible in his body, he managed a weak, lopsided smile. "You…" he murmured, his voice hoarse and strained. "You really did it…"
Alicia's heart stuttered, the words barely registering. She stared at him, confusion and grief mingling in her expression. But before she could respond, his faint smile grew. A faint, weak laugh bubbled from his lips, shaking his broken form. "Hahaha…" His laughter was light, almost joyous, as though he were witnessing something incredible. "You… really did it. … Alicia Valeria Lucienne de Roman… the first Arcane Swordsman in… hundreds of years. You really did it"
His words struck her like lightning. Alicia's trembling stopped, her grip on her swords steadying. Her breathing slowed, deepened. Something inside her stirred—something ancient, powerful, and overwhelming. The pain and chaos around her seemed to fade into the background, and an unfamiliar warmth began to build in her chest. It wasn't fear or grief. It was something much greater.
The Minotaur, began to move again. It lifted its fist, preparing to strike once more, but this time… it paused. Its crimson eyes narrowed, its nostrils flaring as it hesitated. A flicker of something unfamiliar crossed its monstrous features—an instinctive, primal wariness.
Alicia's body was changing before their very eyes.
Her once red hair, vibrant as a wild flame, began to shimmer with a radiant light. It glowed, the strands catching fire but not burning—bright and fierce, like molten embers carried on the wind. The light illuminated her face, casting it in a fierce, almost otherworldly glow. Her eyes, which had always held a fiery determination, now burned with an intensity that rivaled the sun. They glowed a brilliant gold, as though molten light itself had taken residence within her soul.
The twin swords in her hands, once emitting a soft, silver aura reminiscent of moonlight, transformed entirely. They erupted into flames, the fire licking along their edges in brilliant shades of red and orange. The heat they emanated was tangible, but it was not chaotic—it was controlled, focused, and sharp, as if the fire itself was bowing to her will. The air around her shimmered, distorted by the sheer energy radiating from her body.
The imperial knight, still lying on the ground, stared at her in awe. The pain etched across his face momentarily gave way to pride and wonder. "Hah…" he exhaled weakly, his voice barely audible over the crackling of Alicia's blazing aura. "That's it. That's what they wrote about in the old legends. Alicia… Valeria… Lucienne… de Roman." He laughed again, despite the blood spilling from his lips. "You really… did it."
Alicia heard his words but didn't respond. She didn't need to. Her gaze shifted to the Minotaur, who was now frozen in place. The massive creature's body tensed, its earlier rage replaced by something that resembled fear. Its crimson eyes darted toward Alicia's swords, then back to her glowing figure. The beast's instincts screamed at it to retreat, to put distance between itself and this suddenly transformed foe.
The Minotaur took an instinctive step back, its massive hooves cracking the stone beneath it. It snorted, steam hissing from its nostrils, but its earlier aggression was gone. Instead, it regarded Alicia with a wary, almost animalistic caution. This was no ordinary opponent standing before it now. This was something far greater, something it couldn't comprehend but instinctively feared.
Alicia stood tall, her glowing form radiant and unyielding. The fear, the hesitation she had felt moments ago was gone. Her mind was clear, her resolve unshakable. She felt the power coursing through her veins, ancient and untamed but entirely hers. She didn't speak. She didn't need to. Her presence alone was enough to convey what words could not.
The Minotaur, for all its immense strength and fury, lowered its fists. It snorted again, stomping its hooves against the ground, but it made no move to attack. The fiery woman standing before it was no longer just another human. She was a force of nature, a being of overwhelming power and unwavering will. It hesitated, torn between retreating and standing its ground, as if trying to decide whether it could risk challenging her any further.
The imperial knight, still lying injured on the ground, watched the scene unfold with a faint smile. His voice, weak but steady, carried across the bridge. "That's right… Alicia," he said, his tone filled with pride. "Show them… show them the strength of the first Arcane Swordsman after hundred's of years."
Alicia didn't respond. Her glowing eyes remained fixed on the Minotaur, her fiery swords raised at her sides. The battle wasn't over—she knew that much. But this moment, this awakening, was only the beginning.
The bridge fell silent, save for the crackling of Alicia's blazing aura and the faint groans of the injured knights around her. The Minotaur took one final step back, its massive frame casting a long shadow across the fractured stone. For now, it seemed content to wait, its crimson gaze locked on the woman who had just become something far greater than a warrior.
And in that silence, Alicia stood firm, her blazing swords a beacon of hope and defiance in the face of overwhelming darkness.