The sounds of explosions continued to echo from all directions within the academy.
As Setis led her squad along the edge of the Central Plaza, she spotted seven or eight Blood Moon Cultists in the distance. They were surrounding a collapsed stall, casting spells at several tourists hiding behind it. The tourists were unarmed, desperately using overturned wooden planks for cover. Among them, a middle-aged woman clutched a child to her chest, the child’s wails audible even from dozens of paces away.
“Kyle, take the left. Olson, flank them. Phil, provide cover fire.”
Setis issued the orders in a low, rapid voice and charged forward, staff in hand.
She stayed low as she ran, her footsteps nearly silent as her toes grazed the ground. Before the nearest cultist could react, the butt of her staff slammed into his neck, and he slumped to the ground with a muffled groan. Pivoting with the momentum, she pointed the tip of her staff at the chest of a second cultist and unleashed a point-blank Flame Impact, taking both down in quick succession.
At the same time, Kyle’s shortsword cut in from the left. He cleaved through a cultist’s half-formed mana shield, the blade slicing across the man’s arm and sending his staff clattering to the ground.
Olson’s figure flickered out of the shadows, his dagger pinning a fourth cultist’s thigh to the earth. The man screamed as he collapsed. Seeing the tide turn against them, the remaining three cultists turned to flee. Phil pursued them with three consecutive Fireballs; two hit their mark, sending one sprawling, while the other two escaped into a distant alley and vanished.
The engagement had lasted less than two minutes.
Setis leaned on her staff to steady her breathing, a layer of sweat already beading on her forehead. She walked behind the collapsed stall and crouched down to look at the woman holding the child.
“Can you walk?”
The woman nodded, her face pale, as the child in her arms continued to sob. The other tourists were injured to varying degrees, but their wounds were mostly superficial and didn't hinder their movement.
Reinhardt retracted his heavy shield and approached. After assessing their condition, he said in a low voice, “The nearest refuge is the Second Teaching Building, about three hundred meters away.”
Setis nodded. “Let’s get them there first.”
The group escorted the tourists across the plaza toward the Second Teaching Building. They encountered two more scattered groups of Blood Moon Cultists along the way, but they were few in number and easily dispatched. When they reached the building's entrance, Phil went inside to coordinate. Soon, students emerged to assist the wounded.
“Is there still room inside?” Setis asked.
“Technically, yes, but we’ve already packed sixty or seventy people in there. Every seat is taken,” the boy who came to help said, wiping sweat from his brow. He glanced at the tourists behind Setis and nodded anyway. “We’ll make room somehow. Leave them to us.”
Setis thanked him and turned to leave, but the boy suddenly called out, “Are you—are you going back out?”
“Yes.”
“Then please be careful.” The boy’s expression was dead serious. “Someone just said that Blood Moon Cultists of Rank 4 or higher have appeared near the lab building. Several upperclassmen... they didn't make it.”
“Understood.”
Setis acknowledged him and led her team onward.
Over the next half hour, they broke through three more waves of Blood Moon Cultists. The numbers weren't large—no more than a dozen in total—and most were low-level cultists taking advantage of the chaos to roam the academy.
Though Setis’s squad only had five members, their coordination was growing increasingly seamless. Kyle and Reinhardt held the front line, Olson prowled the flanks, Phil provided mid-range suppression, and Setis acted as the primary force for frontal breakthroughs.
Except for Setis, the others were exhausting their stamina rapidly. Kyle and Reinhardt, in particular, had been in close combat from the start; their shield and shortsword were covered in the marks of battle.
After the third skirmish ended, Kyle stabbed his shortsword into the ground and leaned on his knees, gasping for air as sweat dripped from his chin onto the stone pavement.
Reinhardt wasn't in much better shape. Both his mana and stamina were more than half depleted, but when he saw his sister looking over, he forced a “don’t worry” expression. Setis looked away, pulling a small canteen from her waist and handing it to him.
“Drink some water.”
Reinhardt took it, swallowed a few gulps, and passed it to Phil. When Phil took the canteen, her staff nearly slipped from her other hand—her fingers were trembling from gripping it for so long.
“We won't last much longer at this rate,” Reinhardt whispered to Setis, his eyes scanning the condition of their teammates. “The intervals between fights are too short. Our mana recovery can't keep up with the consumption. If we keep pushing, something’s going to go wrong on our end.”
Setis didn't argue. She looked down at her hand gripping the staff; her palm was red from continuous casting, and her fingertips were numb. Even though a Rank 2 Magic Warrior had impressive mana reserves for their level, it couldn't withstand this kind of relentless drainage.
“We’ll search a bit more, then find a place to rest for fifteen minutes,” she said, putting the canteen away. “The protective barrier of the Magic Item Display Hall ahead is still active. Let's head that way.”
The others nodded, adjusted their gear, and continued. After leaving the small path and crossing a lawn pitted with craters, they gathered four more lowerclassmen along the way.
The Magic Item Display Hall was a two-story stone building, its outer walls covered in half-withered ivy, and a corner of its entrance steps had been blasted away. A fixed protective barrier inherent to the academy enveloped the entire building, glowing with a translucent, pale white light. It wasn't large, but it was stable. Nearby, they found a relatively hidden corner shielded by collapsed pillars and rubble, where they sat down to rest.
As Setis leaned against a broken stone pillar, she finally felt the dull ache in her calves. She laid her staff across her knees and closed her eyes. Reinhardt sat beside her, using his one good hand to pull a piece of dry rations from his tunic. He broke it in half, giving one piece to his sister and chewing on the other himself. Phil leaned against the wall with her eyes closed, while Kyle kept his shortsword across his lap, occasionally looking up to scan their surroundings.
Reinhardt swallowed the last of his rations and brushed the crumbs from his hands. “Rest for fifteen minutes to recover mana and stamina. After that, we’ll discuss our next move—”
He stopped mid-sentence.
Setis opened her eyes at almost the exact same moment. Some instinct—or perhaps a primal intuition—made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She snapped her head up toward the sky above the hall.
Three figures appeared in mid-air.
They wore uniform dark red robes that snapped in the wind. Even from dozens of meters away, the surge of mana from them was palpable—a thick, suffocating pressure. They had no flying artifacts; they hovered steadily in the air solely through the manipulation of their own mana, surrounded by a faint, dark aura. Only a Rank 7 mage or higher could achieve flight in such a manner.
The three paused for a brief moment in the air, seemingly confirming their coordinates, and then—they dropped straight toward the squad's hiding spot. They landed soundlessly. None of them spoke a word; the thin mage on the left simply raised his hand.
“Corrosion.”
A beam of murky green light shot from the tip of his staff, aimed directly at Phil.
Setis’s pupils shrank. Instinctively, she shoved Phil aside and used the momentum to roll in the opposite direction. The beam grazed Phil’s shoulder and struck the broken stone pillar behind her. The impact point was instantly eaten away, leaving a hole the size of a bowl. Debris flew everywhere as the edges of the hole hissed with white smoke, releasing a pungent, acrid scent.
“Scatter!” Setis barked.
Driven by survival instinct, the five of them scattered in different directions. Kyle grabbed his shortsword and dashed to the left, attempting to flank them, while Olson’s figure flickered as he merged into the shadows. Reinhardt stepped in front of Setis and Phil, raising his shield as the mana patterns on its surface flared to life, deploying a pale yellow Rock Shield.
But the fat mage in the center gave them no time to adjust their formation. He slammed his staff into the ground, and a circle of earthen-yellow light rippled out from beneath his feet—a Gravity Field. The air within a dozen meters suddenly became heavy and viscous. Kyle had only taken a few steps before his legs felt like lead, his knees buckling and his shortsword nearly slipping from his grasp. Olson was yanked out of the shadows by the sheer force of the gravity, his speed plummeting.
“Phil! Fireball!”
Setis gritted her teeth against the crushing gravity, forcing herself to swing her staff. Phil responded from behind her, launching two Fireballs in rapid succession at the thin mage.
The thin mage casually raised a Shadow Veil. A curtain of mana as black as ink unfolded before him. The two fireballs struck it without even producing a spark, extinguished instantly. It was mana consumption—the fire’s energy and light vanished the moment they touched the veil.
“It’s dark magic,” Phil’s voice trembled. “My magic is useless against him—”
Before she could finish, the thin mage waved his arm again. The tip of his staff traced an arc in the air, and three waves of Shadow Impact shot out in a fan shape. The black mana fluctuations rippled along the ground at incredible speed, the resulting gale whipping up loose stones.
One of the waves hit Phil dead center. The force sent her flying backward, her back slamming hard against the outer wall of the hall. She slid down the wall and collapsed, her staff rolling away as she lost consciousness. The other two waves struck Kyle and Olson. Kyle was thrown several meters into a broken pillar, his shortsword bouncing across the ground. Olson let out a muffled grunt as he tried to stabilize himself, but the impact was too great, blasting him out of the shadows and into a pile of rubble where he lay still.
“Phil! Kyle! Olson!” Setis’s eyes burned with rage.
Reinhardt roared, funneling all his mana into his shield as he charged at the fat mage like a wild bull—a Fearless Charge. The fat mage didn't even look at him. He simply gave his staff a slight lift, releasing a shockwave of mana that sent Reinhardt, shield and all, tumbling backward. The bone in his left arm snapped with a sickening crack, and he rolled several times across the ground before coming to a stop. Yet, he used his one good arm to drag himself back up, staggering to stand in front of Setis once more.
“Little sister... run...”
“Brother—!”
Before Setis could finish her cry, the final black-robed mage finally moved. The tall mage, who had been standing silently in the back, raised his arm with a slight motion, as if shooing a fly. An invisible force exploded against Reinhardt’s chest. Following a dull thud, he was tossed back like a kite with a broken string, his chest caved in. He landed on the stone path several meters away and didn't move.
Setis’s head swam, her ears ringing.
She gripped her staff, trying to stand, but her body refused to obey. The Gravity Field was still active, making even the act of raising her hand several times slower than usual. Her mana was mostly spent from the continuous fighting, leaving her meridians aching and her hands trembling. She looked up at the three black-robed mages, her gaze falling on their masks. They were looking back, observing her and the few others who hadn't fully lost consciousness.
Her own injuries weren't severe. Perhaps they didn't see her as a threat; their attacks hadn't been aimed at the lower-ranked students behind her. The three Shadow Impacts had been targeted at Phil and the others; she and the lowerclassmen had only been caught in the aftershocks, leaving them with nothing more than some scrapes and bruises.
The fat mage tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over the bodies littering the ground. With a casual wave of his staff, he cleared away a broken pillar blocking his path and slowly stepped forward. His eyes lingered on Setis for a moment, as if appraising a piece of merchandise that was still mostly intact.
“This little girl is actually a magic warrior. How interesting.” His voice was dry and devoid of emotion. He turned to the tall mage. “Why don't we just kill her? That lord would surely be pleased.”
The fat mage raised his staff, aiming it at Setis. In that instant, Setis tightened her grip on her staff, every muscle tensed for one final, desperate struggle.
“Stop.”
The tall mage stepped forward from behind, pressing down the fat mage’s staff. His tone brooked no argument. He glanced down at the unconscious figures on the ground, then at Setis and the few students who were still awake.
“The maintenance of the barrier requires materials,” he said, his voice much steadier than the fat mage’s. “If we kill too many at once, the mana supply won't be able to keep up. Keep as many alive as possible. Kill only when necessary. They will all die eventually.”
Setis froze, stunned.
Before she could even begin to process the meaning of his words, a sickening surge of mana erupted from somewhere within the academy, soaring into the sky.
The mana was colossal—so vast that even a Rank 2 Magic Warrior like her could feel it clearly. It was cold, as if compressed from countless fragments of agony. As it pierced the sky, it shattered into countless blood-red threads of mana that rained down, interlacing and winding around one another to form a translucent, dark red barrier.
The pale red magical barrier resembled a giant, inverted bowl, completely enveloping the Royal Magic and Martial Arts Academy and the surrounding area for several kilometers. Dark red mana patterns flowed slowly across the surface of the light curtain. Every movement was accompanied by a faint, skin-crawling hum, as if some massive creature were slowly breathing.
Then, Setis heard the low rumble as the curtain touched the ground. She heard the series of screams and cries of alarm from the distance. She heard the muffled thuds of countless people trying to rush out of the academy gates, only to be bounced back by the barrier.
She finally understood what he meant by “materials.” It was everyone inside!
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