Kaeli's House – Noon
The bell rang, and Rethrus jolted upright, breath caught in his throat.
He blinked. "Huh... what time is it?"
Kaeli sat at the window, eyes fixed on the horizon as the entire house gave a low groan. The ground trembled beneath them, faint but constant.
"It's noon," he said. "And the war just began. Eri and the others are already there."
Rethrus rubbed his eyes, steadying himself. "So… the shaking hasn't stopped."
"No. It won't for a while," Kaeli muttered.
Rethrus scanned the room. "Where's Gerard?"
"He went back to the inn. He's packing your things—getting everything ready for the escape."
"I'll have to thank him later."
A long silence followed. The floor still quivered like the land itself held its breath.
"So this is the effect of what we did," Rethrus finally said, voice low.
Kaeli smirked faintly. "I'd say yes."
Rethrus shifted, standing now, barefoot on the trembling floor.
"We going there tonight?"
Kaeli didn't turn from the window.
"Yeah."
Back in the quiet room, the ground still trembled.
Rethrus sat up, eyes wide, ears straining.
Screams echoed from the distance—clashing steel, shouts of men, and the deep roar of magic colliding.
"Don't worry," Kaeli said calmly, still perched at the window. "War is normal. Don't blame yourself."
"I know, it's ju—"
"You can't falter, Rethrus," Kaeli cut in, his tone sharper now. "You're the backbone of this plan."
"I know…" Rethrus muttered, his eyes narrowing toward the distant fires. "I just wonder what's really going on out there."
On the Riverdale
"AHHHHHHHHH!"
Soldiers screamed as fire rained from the sky and the earth cracked under summoned beasts.
"Cassius!" Dante commanded, his eyes like sharpened blades.
Cassius sprinted ahead, leaping onto a boulder near the river's edge. He slammed his palm down.
"FREEZE!" he chanted.
The river beneath him glowed white, and in seconds, the running waters turned to jagged ice, racing across the flow like a frost-born beast.
Cassius grinned. "Heh. Dante and I mastered water—but Merlion… Merlion is water," he muttered, eyes darting to the horizon where a tidal wave surged unnaturally.
Across the field, the enemy unleashed hell.
Massive serpents made of bloodied water.
Pillars of stone burst from the ground as earth mages clashed with conjurers of flame. One knight was yanked into the air by vines that writhed like snakes, only to be sliced midair by a wind blade.
Arrows ignited with flames soared overhead. Shields shimmered with magic, cracking under the weight of dark matter orbs hurled from behind enemy lines.
Lightning fell not from the sky, but from the blades of mages charging into the fray, cutting down rows of men with a single arc.
"Push forward!" Dante roared, raising his sword which dripped with frost and mana. "Don't let them breach the line!"
The ice-covered river cracked beneath the weight of soldiers charging forward. Dante, the strongest water knight of Aurelia, stood calmly atop the frost, his claymore slung over his shoulder. His eyes were still, cold as the terrain beneath him.
A squad of enemy knights surrounded him. Confident. Loud. Mistake.
With a single swing, Dante sliced through the air, and a whip of conjured water lashed out from his blade—clean, sharp, and fast. It snapped through armor like paper, sending men tumbling to the ground, steam rising as water slashed and scalded.
Another rushed him.
Dante lowered his palm, summoning a dense spear of pressurized water from thin air—compressed so tightly it looked solid—and launched it. The knight flew backward, his chestplate shattered inward, breathless before he hit the ground.
Three more advanced from the side.
Dante raised his hand slowly. Rings of water formed midair, spinning with precision before they burst forward, drilling through the soldiers' defenses. They collapsed in seconds—not a scream, not a strike landed on him.
The field quieted—until a gust of wind kicked up.
From across the ice, Lucian landed with a light step, green cape fluttering, a cocky grin on his lips.
"You're wasting all the fun," he said. "I came here to test the famed water knight of Aurelia."
Dante turned to face him, his grip on the claymore tightening just slightly. "Then test."
Lucian laughed, vanishing in a blink with wind-enhanced speed, reappearing behind Dante mid-strike—
But Dante was already there.
A curved wall of water—conjured in an instant—slammed into Lucian, cutting his wind momentum in half and throwing him off-balance.
Dante moved with quiet precision, bringing his claymore down as a follow-up stream of water shot upward, knocking Lucian off his feet. The arrogant knight hit the ice hard, breath knocked from him.
In seconds, it was over.
Lucian groaned, staring up at the darkened sky, eyes wide with disbelief. "Tch... I barely saw that coming…"
"You never had to," Dante said, already walking away.
Bodies collapsed around her like fallen leaves.
Kesca didn't blink.
A fire mage lunged toward her, flames igniting along his forearm as he shouts.
She ducked under his swing, her sword slicing upward in a crescent motion.
The water clinging to her blade surged forward like a coiled serpent, slamming into his chest and shattering his ribs on impact. He hit the ground with a dull thud, steam rising from where water met fire.
Another knight charged. Earth magic reinforced his skin like stone.
Kesca spun to the left—too fast, too sudden—and slashed low. A trail of slicing water peeled the armor off his shin. He howled. The next cut came fast. His scream died before he hit the dirt.
She was gliding again, no longer walking. Each step released a burst of pressured water beneath her feet, propelling her like an arrow through the blood-soaked battlefield. Her soldiers followed behind, but they never caught up.
Three more enemy mages attempted a formation spell—lightning magic, raw and unstable.
Kesca didn't give them the chance.
A wall of spiraling liquid erupted in front of her like a whirlpool standing tall, spinning faster and faster until it launched forward.
It tore through them. The lightning exploded too late, crackling inside the cascade—then vanished with their corpses.
No hesitation. No remorse.
This was war.
Her sword, Virelia, pulsed with a faint blue hue. The blade absorbed ambient mana through water and could store enough for a single devastating burst.
Virelia was ready now.
And Kesca intended to spend its power well.
The rain hadn't come, but the battlefield was soaked—soaked in blood, in sweat, in the screams of the dying. Steel clashed, magic cracked the air, and corpses piled by the second.
Kesca stood still, breath steady, though her heart pounded harder than she wanted to admit. Her soldiers were fighting tooth and claw to break through the western flank of the Riverdale line.
And then… everything around her slowed.
Because he was walking toward her.
Through the frozen mist and dying light of spellfire, Dante emerged.
His steps were unhurried. Calm. Like he didn't see a battlefield, just an inconvenience. His claymore rested on his shoulder, and though blood already stained his cloak, none of it was his.
His eyes locked on hers.
Kesca's grip tightened around Virelia. Her instincts screamed. She'd heard stories. Everyone had. Dante—the strongest water knight in Aurelia. No Devil. No tricks. Just raw talent and terrifying discipline.
She had seen him from afar before.
This was the first time he looked back.
Their soldiers parted without meaning to, driven by some primal fear. Wind whipped around them, kicked up by magic and motion, but the space between Dante and Kesca was a quiet, chilling void.
Dante stopped a few paces ahead, water beginning to swirl around his boots. Not drawn from the frozen river, but conjured—clean, pure, sharpened like blades.
He tilted his head slightly. "Merlion's daughter."
Kesca didn't answer. Her breathing was even, but her thoughts scattered. She had killed dozens today. Fought against fire, wind, earth. Broken bones. Slit throats.
But now?
She didn't feel like a predator anymore.
Dante lowered his blade. Not in surrender—never that. Just a simple, grounded stance.
As the barrier closed in around them, Cassius watched from a distance, a smirk playing on his lips. "Huh, yes. Kill the broad, and it will all be over," he muttered, barely audible over the roar of the battle.
Inside the cage of magic, Dante's eyes flicked toward Kesca. The air was thick with tension, the roar of battle dimming outside the wall. "So, you know you can't run," he said, his voice smooth but edged with a quiet threat.
Kesca clenched Virelia tighter, a surge of power humming from the blade as it absorbed the mana in the air. Her lips curled into a smile, the sword now glowing a fierce blue. "Tsk, he's just a myth. I can take him," she thought, her confidence growing with every passing second.
"Let's go, Dante!" she shouted, her voice full of defiance.
The barrier was now fully closed, trapping them in their own world—a space of water and tension. The battlefield outside seemed like another world entirely. It was just the two of them now, locked in a dance of destiny.
Dante's smile barely flickered, but there was something in his eyes—something cold, something unyielding. He gripped his claymore with both hands, the water swirling around his feet, freezing the space beneath him.
He stared at Kesca, the air growing heavier with every second. And then, in a voice that cut through the stillness like a knife, he said, "You're out of your depth"
With that, he struck.