Chương 8: Chapter III — The Calm River That Flows Red

The chaos began with fire. Aelia hurled her bomb into the oil, and her side of the outpost's inner wall erupted in a wall of flame. At the same moment, Flavia's spell hit, and the fire roared across the valley. The horses screamed in panic, but with a single, contemptuous snap of Galan's fingers, they fell silent, collapsing unconscious in their stalls. The invisible aura holding Gaius and Lucilla in a trance shattered, only for them to be trapped in a new one of pure horror.

Guards poured from their tents with weapons drawn. From the shadows, Tiberius dropped from the wall, landing with a thunderous impact that cracked the ground. He rose in an instant, charging ahead with his divine axe gleaming. A guard saw him too late. With a swift, precise swing, the axe fell. The guard dropped without a sound.

"One," Galan said, his voice a cold, quiet count. The guard's friend stared at the beast in shock, his sword raised. But it was futile, for he didn't see Tranio leaping from behind. The cheetah-man was a blur of motion, his knives flashing, ending the guard's life before the poor man even realized what happened.

"Two."

"What are you counting?!" Gaius shrieked, his voice trembling.

"Ugh, forget it!" He broke from his paralysis and charged forward, his face a mask of fear and rage.

"Gaius, wait!" Lucilla cried, chasing after him. Galan watched them go, a satisfied smirk on his face. He strolled after them, the chaos unfolding exactly as he had planned. Deeper in the outpost, the two sorceresses, Marybelle and Noctavia, stood frozen before their tent, their eyes wide at the sight of the fallen bodies.

"They… they're…" Marybelle stammered, her hands trembling.

"Marybelle! Focus!" Noctavia gripped her friend's shoulder, snapping her back to reality. They began to chant, an incantation circle forming ahead of them. But before it could fully take shape, a crossbow bolt struck Noctavia's hand. She screamed and collapsed to her knees, the circle instantly dissolving.

"Noctavia!"

"No! Keep going!" Noctavia ordered, gritting her teeth. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Marybelle tried to reform the spell, her face pale with pain and fear. A figure stepped out of the shadows, framed by the raging fire, a divine crossbow held with casual confidence.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Lucius asked, a cruel smile on his lips. He made a show of storing his crossbow in his divine vault, then crouched, examining the wound with mock concern.

"Ooh, that looks painful. Need help pulling it out?" A guttural roar erupted from Noctavia's chest.

"You…" She dropped her staff and drew a dagger.

"Will die!" She lunged, a blur of fury, her dagger flashing in the erratic light. The blade swept wide, aimed at his midsection, but Lucius was already in motion, pivoting back as the strike cut through empty air. He danced away, and she pressed forward, her wild swings forcing him into a retreat. He sidestepped sharply, leading her behind a tent, away from the main battle. As her dagger slashed through the air again, he twisted effortlessly aside.

Before she could recover, he countered, slamming his open palm into her arm. A sharp jolt of pain shot through her limb, and her fingers twitched involuntarily. Ignoring the pain, she used his momentum to spin, reversing her grip on the dagger and tracing a deadly arc aimed at his neck. Lucius barely dodged, the blade slicing past with a rush of air that ruffled his hair. At the same moment, his left leg snapped forward in a swift counterattack. Noctavia sprang back just in time, the kick whistling past her face.

But then, a loud explosion erupted nearby, spurring her on as she assumed it was caused by Marybelle. Noctavia feinted left, then lunged right. Lucius reacted instinctively, but she had anticipated his movement. With a twist of her wrist, she reversed the blade's trajectory, aiming for his shoulder. He blocked, the impact of steel on his armored gauntlet knocking him off balance. For a moment, he was open. She pressed her advantage, eyes glinting with a wicked confidence.

She channeled all of her remaining strength into a final, downward thrust aimed at his heart. He twisted away at the last possible second. The dagger sliced through empty air, and he seized the opening, grabbing her wrist and arm, their bodies locking in a stalemate. Her strength was spent. And yet, he smiled, a mocking, triumphant look in his eyes. In one swift motion, his red tail whipped from behind him with his spare dagger, and he drove it into her side, just below the ribs.

She gasped, her body giving up as she sank to her knees.

"Those two better be alive after this, you hear me?" Galan's voice echoed in Lucius' mind.

"Sure, Master," Lucius sent back with a satisfied smirk. He looked down at the gasping sorceress.

"Try not to pull it out, okay? My master will kill me if you die."

"Please…" Noctavia gasped, her vision blurring.

"Spare Marybelle… and Gaius…" She collapsed onto her back. Lucius sighed.

"Their fate isn't mine to decide. But I'll put in a good word for you." ───────────── ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ───────────── Back when Lucius and Noctavia started clashing in their deadly dance, Flavia had floated silently down from the wall. She landed behind the panicked Marybelle, her voice a cold, calm whisper.

"That's not how you cast a spell. You need to be calm and focus only on what you wish to manifest."

"No… don't…" Marybelle whimpered, clutching her staff.

"Here," Flavia said, lifting her own staff with a smirk.

"Let me show you how it's done." She closed her eyes. For a moment, a happy memory flickered in her mind, and her staff began to glow. Then, a single tear escaped her eye. The warmth vanished, replaced by a cold, burning rage as the memories of fire, screams, and the fall of her people flooded her senses. Her staff's gem flared, its light brighter than the inferno engulfing the camp. Her hatred had taken form.