Chapter 25: Attack on the Royal Capital

"Stone Creation Magic: Stone Model of the World!" Siren Titum, the other magic knight of the Golden Dawn who had been presented with a medal said. The Magic Knights erupted into whispers of curiosity.

It's... a three-dimensional model of the Noble Realm?

W-Wow!

Even the voices of the people at the scene and their magic levels...

Is he lacing the whole area with mana and simultaneously making it visible?

"This is much more advanced than my Magic Flower Guidepost," Mimosa commented with a slight sweatdrop.

"There are people to help," Lars said. "We have no time to waste on planning."

"You're speaking my language, Lars!" Kian said, and the two left together. Sharya, silently agreeing, followed after them.

"Wait, what the heck are we waiting for?! There are people out there who need our help!" Asta said, rushing out of the building.

"Wait for me, Asta, my rival!" Leopold yelled, running after the four.

"Leo's still very much a child. I'll have to thoroughly retrain him later." Fuegoleon commented, then addressed the rest of the Magic Knights.

"I'm sure you'd rather not take orders from me, but listen well, Magic Knights! I'll go after Leo and that Black Bulls boy, and after I've joined them, we'll head to the north district. You, Black Bulls girl, come with me. Silver Eagles, I ask that you head to the central district, where the magic is strongest. Blue Roses, head to the east district! Golden Dawn, split into two teams and head to the west and northwest districts!"

The magic knights, taking all of these different instructions on board, replied, "Yes captain!"

…

In the western district, Lars, Kian, and Sharya charged forward, their grimoires at the ready. The air was thick with tension as they moved through the streets, looking for any sign of the enemy.

"We need to focus on evacuating the citizens and taking down any enemies we encounter," Lars said, his mind already calculating the best approach.

"I'm with you," Kian replied, his eyes sharp and focused as he activated his Force Magic. He didn't need a plan, just an objective, and Lars always provided that. "Let's make it quick."

Sharya grinned, pulling up her hood as she scanned the area. "I'm itching for a fight."

"Sharya, let your clones handle most of the rescue effort. Make sure they keep a dagger on them at all times. Let them clone one of my Infinite Thought Shield spells to use. Meanwhile, the three of us will find the aggressors of the attack. If one of your clones is defeated in battle, Mirage Shift and focus on protecting the civilians. We have a Royal Capital to protect," he finished his speech.

Sharya smirked. "Ok, captain." She carried out Lars's orders, each clone that she produced scattering in different directions.

"Let's make this quick," Kian said, his voice sharper than usual. He rarely displayed such seriousness, but the gravity of the situation had stirred something fierce in him. His Force Magic rippled in the air as they leapt from rooftop to rooftop, getting closer to the heart of the battle.

"Hello, dear sister," a voice, dripping with malicious intent, called out.

"Right behind you!" Lars replied, the blade of his naginata shimmering in the evening light.

Suddenly, Lars disappeared. Kian and Sharya looked around in bewilderment.

"Now that Valtos has done his job," the voice behind them said, dripping with menace, "I can play with you guys."

Sharya's blood ran cold. It couldn't be her, right? After all, she was banished by their parents, and sent to live on the borders of the Clover Kingdom. Her prison was inescapable! But as the blue-haired assassin turned round, all her worst fears were confirmed.

Rela Hansen was standing right behind her, azure flames in hand, hood down to reveal her sadistic grin.

"Go on ahead, Kian. This is my fight," Sharya said coldly, staring her sister down.

…

In the central district, Nozel Silva led his Silver Eagles with Frida Mertens by his side. The air hummed with tension as the Silver Eagles swiftly moved through the city, their silver magic gleaming in the dim light. Frida's Amethyst Crystal Magic shimmered around her, ready to react at a moment's notice.

"I sense powerful mana in the distance," Nozel said, his voice calm but sharp. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the area. "The Eye of the Midnight Sun's magic presence is unmistakable. Be prepared for anything."

Frida nodded, her expression steely as she kept her senses alert. "Should we split up?" she asked, her hand resting on her grimoire.

"No. We move together," Nozel responded curtly. "This enemy is unpredictable."

As they pressed forward, a sudden burst of energy tore through the sky, and a wave of dark magic swept through the streets, catching the Silver Eagles off guard.

"Mercury Magic: Silver Rain!" Nozel instantly reacted, casting a spell that sent a torrent of silver droplets cascading through the air, neutralising the incoming attack.

Out of the shadows, a hooded figure emerged. It was an Eye of the Midnight Sun mage with a wicked grin on his face, casting a wave of destructive magic toward the Silver Eagles. "You think you can stop us, royal scum?" the mage spat, his voice laced with malice.

Frida stepped forward, her Amethyst Crystal Magic flaring. "Amethyst Crystal Magic: Wall of Jericho!" A wall of gleaming crystals shot up in front of her, blocking the attack and dispersing the dark magic.

Nozel didn't waste any time. "Mercury Creation Magic: Silver Spear!" He summoned many gleaming spears of silver and launched them at the enemy, striking with deadly precision. The enemy mage barely had time to react before being impaled by the silver weapons, collapsing in a heap.

"We press on," Nozel commanded, his tone unyielding as the Silver Eagles resumed their advance. But deep down, he knew this was just the beginning. The Eye of the Midnight Sun was no ordinary enemy, and their true target remained unknown.

…

The streets were flooded with civilians, their cries of fear echoing through the smoke-filled air. Russell's Dust Magic swirled around him, creating a protective barrier that shielded the citizens from the attacks raining down on them. His sharp eyes scanned the area, assessing the situation with a cool, tactical mind.

"This is a mess," Russell muttered, his usual carefree demeanour replaced with grim determination.

Lilian, standing beside him, her Prism Magic shimmering like a rainbow in the dim light, nodded in agreement. "We need to focus on clearing out the enemies first," she said, her voice calm but urgent. "Then we can evacuate the civilians."

Russell nodded, raising his hand as his grimoire glowed. "Dust Magic: Shifting Sands!"

The ground beneath the approaching enemies began to tremble before erupting into a swirling vortex of dust. The attackers were caught in the whirlwind, their vision obscured as they were thrown off balance.

Lilian followed up with a graceful sweep of her hand. "Prism Magic: Prismatic Flare!"

Her spell shot forth in a burst of multicoloured light, the beam striking with overwhelming power, taking down the disoriented enemies trapped in Russell's dust storm. The combination of their magic created a deadly dance of destruction, their teamwork seamless.

"Nice shot!" Russell called out, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. For a moment, his usual playful demeanour resurfaced.

Lilian didn't respond, her focus solely on the battle ahead. Her mind was racing, calculating every move, every step. But deep down, a nagging thought lingered at the back of her mind. She couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, of someone familiar lurking in the shadows.

Before she could dwell on it further, an explosion of white sand erupted in front of them. The force of the blast sent Russell and Lilian stumbling backward. Russell's eyes widened as he recognized the magic signature.

"White Sand Magic…"

From the smoke and debris emerged Hugo Vance, his face set in a scowl of pure disdain. His grimoire floated beside him, the elegant pages turning with ease as he stepped forward, his aristocratic airs still intact despite the chaos.

"You should stick to playing with dirt, Russell," Hugo sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Leave real magic to those of noble blood."

Russell's eyes narrowed, his hand tightening into a fist. "Hugo."

Hugo smirked, white sand swirling around him like a storm. "I'll show you what real power looks like, brother."

Lilian stepped forward, her eyes flashing with anger. "Now isn't the time for this!" she snapped. "People's lives are at stake!"

Hugo's cold gaze flicked to her, his lip curling in distaste. "Stay out of this, commoner. This is between me and my pathetic older brother."

Russell's blood boiled, but before he could respond, another wave of enemies surged toward them, drawn by the surge of magic. He bit back his anger, knowing that now wasn't the time for personal grudges.

"Fine," he muttered under his breath. "But we settle this later, Hugo."

Hugo merely smirked, his white sand magic whipping through the air, already tearing through the incoming enemies with ease. As much as Russell hated to admit it, his younger brother's power was undeniable.

…

Charlotte Roselei, standing at the front, led her squad with a mixture of grace and cold determination. Her Briar Magic wove intricate patterns through the air, creating deadly whips of thorns that lashed out at the enemies surrounding them.

Beside her, Sol Marron fought fiercely, her Earth Magic shaking the ground beneath their attackers. "Captain, they just keep coming!" Sol shouted over the chaos.

Charlotte's face remained calm, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of frustration. "Stay focused, Sol. We cannot let them advance any further."

Sol gritted her teeth, her fists clenching as she summoned more earth golems to block the incoming enemies. "I'm with you, Sis—I mean, Captain!"

As the battle raged on, a figure cloaked in darkness appeared on the rooftops above them, watching with gleaming eyes. The real enemy was still lurking, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

…

Lars stumbled as the world spun around him, his eyes adjusting to the shift. He found himself standing in a large open field, the sky above them bathed in the eerie light of dusk.

"Well, if it isn't the lost lamb," a soft, sinister voice echoed from behind him.

Lars turned to face his opponent—a woman with long, fiery red hair and eyes that seemed to burn with an unnatural heat. Her grimoire floated beside her, glowing with a deep orange hue. She held a certain steel mage by the neck.

"Fana, of the Third Eye," Lars whispered, his naginata held firmly at his side. "Sounds unnatural. I thought you were one of us."

"Hello, Mertens," Fana said stoically. She dropped the unconscious Yul by her feet, using a fire binding spell to stop him from moving. Lars's fists shook with rage.

"You're far from the capital now, Mertens," Fana said, a wicked smile playing on her lips. "No one will come to save you."

Lars grinned, the rush of battle coursing through his veins. "I don't need saving. You'll be the one who regrets this."

Fana's eyes flickered with dark amusement as flames began to swirl around her. "Let's see if you can back up those words."

With a snap of her fingers, the ground beneath Lars ignited, a wave of fire surging towards him. Lars barely had time to react, leaping into the air, his naginata spinning in his hands as he dodged the flames.

"Mind Magic: Homing Specter!" he called, launching the blade of his naginata toward Fana.

The blade cut through the air, speeding towards Fana, who smirked, raising her hand. A wall of fire erupted in front of her, deflecting the attack.

"You'll have to do better than that," she taunted, her voice laced with venom.

Lars gritted his teeth, his mind racing. She was fast, and her fire magic was relentless. But he wasn't going to back down.

With a flick of his wrist, the blade of his naginata returned to him, and he landed gracefully on his feet. His eyes narrowed as he studied Fana's movements, his mind already calculating his next move.

This was going to be a battle of wits as much as power. And Lars Mertens was more than ready for the challenge.

…

The western district lay beneath a shroud of chaos, its once pristine streets now marred by destruction. Buildings were scorched, the air thick with smoke, and the distant sounds of civilians screaming mixed with the dull roar of clashing magic. Sharya Hansen stood alone, her back to her comrades as her eyes locked onto the figure in front of her. Her heart pounded in her chest, but her face remained a mask of cold determination.

Rela Hansen.

Her older sister. Her enemy.

It had been years since Sharya had last seen her. The last time had been when her parents had condemned Rela to exile, sending her to live on the borders of the Clover Kingdom. Sharya had thought that her prison was inescapable, the punishment for Rela's crimes—a fitting end for a traitor to their family. But now, here she was, standing mere feet away, her familiar sadistic grin cutting through the smoke like a blade.

"Well, well, well…" Rela's voice was a venomous purr, dripping with mockery. "Look who's all grown up. I must say, it's been such a long time, dear sister."

Sharya's grip tightened on the hilt of her fan-dagger, her knuckles whitening. She said nothing. Words would not make this easier. But her mind raced, calculating the distance between them, the best approach, the spells she had at her disposal. She had trained for years for this moment—to be ready for anything—but nothing could have prepared her for the flood of emotions that now threatened to overwhelm her.

"Cat got your tongue?" Rela's smirk widened, and with a flick of her wrist, a wave of azure flames surged forward.

Sharya's instincts kicked in, her body moving on its own. She leapt backward, her feet barely touching the ground as she dodged the flames. Her grimoire floated beside her, glowing with an eerie blue light. "Cloned Mind Magic: Infinite Thought Shield!" she muttered, her hands weaving through the air as the spell took form.

A shimmering barrier of translucent energy appeared before her, absorbing the brunt of the fire. But the heat was intense, and Sharya could feel the sweat beading on her forehead. The flames licked at the edges of her shield, pushing against it with relentless force.

"I see you've learned a few new tricks," Rela remarked, her voice casual as if they were discussing something as mundane as the weather. She tilted her head, her grin never faltering. "But do you really think you can defeat me with borrowed spells?"

Sharya didn't respond. Instead, she focused on stabilizing the shield, pushing back against the flames with all her strength. Her breath came in shallow, measured gasps. Rela was toying with her—of that she was certain. Her sister's magic was powerful, far more refined than Sharya's, and the sheer force behind each spell was enough to make even the most seasoned magic knights wary.

But Sharya wasn't afraid. Not anymore.

"Enough!" She shouted, pushing forward. The shield expanded in size, pulsing with energy before it shattered outward in a burst of raw force, dispersing the flames. Rela didn't flinch, but her smirk faltered for a fraction of a second as she took a step back.

Sharya saw her opening.

In a blur of movement, she dashed forward, her dagger gleaming as it cut through the air. Her speed was blinding, honed through years of rigorous training under the most brutal conditions. She closed the gap between them in an instant, aiming for Rela's side with a precise, deadly strike.

But Rela was faster.

With a flick of her wrist, she conjured a wall of azure flames, forcing Sharya to halt her advance. The heat was unbearable, forcing Sharya to leap back once more. She landed gracefully, her eyes never leaving her sister's form.

"Good try," Rela mocked, her voice laced with amusement. "But you'll have to do better than that if you want to land a hit."

Sharya clenched her teeth, her frustration mounting. She had always known Rela was stronger—had always feared this inevitable confrontation. But that didn't mean she would back down. No, she couldn't afford to.

"I didn't come here to talk," Sharya hissed, her grimoire glowing brighter. "Clone Magic: Doppelganger Blitz!"

In an instant, the air around her shimmered as multiple clones of herself appeared, each wielding an identical dagger. The clones moved in perfect synchronisation, their forms flickering in and out of sight like ghosts. Together, they charged at Rela from all sides, their movements unpredictable and erratic.

Rela raised an eyebrow, impressed despite herself. "Ah, the famous assassin's tricks," she mused. "How quaint."

But as the clones closed in, Rela's grin widened. She raised both hands, her azure flames erupting outward in a massive wave. The flames consumed everything in their path, burning through the clones with ruthless efficiency. One by one, they disintegrated, their forms collapsing into wisps of smoke.

But Sharya was ready.

While Rela had focused on destroying the clones, the real Sharya had slipped into the shadows, her form completely hidden from sight. Using her Mirage Shift, she had moved silently behind Rela, her dagger poised to strike.

This was it.

With deadly precision, she lunged forward, aiming for Rela's back.

But just as her blade was about to make contact, Rela's form flickered—and disappeared.

"Tsk tsk," a voice purred from behind her.

Sharya's heart lurched in her chest as she spun around, only to see Rela standing a few feet away, her flames coiling around her like a serpent. It was her Azure Flame Magic: Blue Clone.

"I taught you everything you know, Sharya," Rela said, her voice dangerously soft. "But you never learned everything I know."

Before Sharya could react, Rela's flames surged forward once again, but this time they didn't just aim to attack. They circled around her, creating a fiery cage that trapped her in place. The heat was unbearable, sweat pouring down Sharya's face as she struggled to maintain her composure.

"Face it, little sister," Rela whispered, stepping closer, her eyes gleaming with sadistic glee. "You're no match for me."

Sharya's mind raced. She could feel the flames closing in, the searing heat licking at her skin. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her body trembling from the exertion. But she couldn't give up. Not now. Not ever.

Her grimoire pulsed, and she closed her eyes, focusing all of her remaining strength into her next spell. She couldn't rely on brute force—Rela would overpower her in that regard. No, she had to be smarter. More cunning.

In an instant, her form flickered and vanished, disappearing into the shadows that danced along the ground. The flames that had surrounded her collapsed inward, but there was nothing left for them to burn.

Rela's eyes widened in surprise, her flames dissipating as she looked around for any sign of her sister. "Where are you…?" she muttered, her voice losing some of its confidence.

From the shadows, Sharya reappeared—this time directly above Rela.

With swift, silent precision, she descended upon her sister, her dagger aimed straight for Rela's exposed back. This time, there would be no escape. No tricks.

The blade made contact.

Or so she thought.

At the last second, Rela turned, her eyes gleaming with malice as she caught Sharya's wrist in a vice-like grip. The force of the impact sent a shockwave through Sharya's body, and she gasped in pain as her dagger slipped from her grasp, clattering to the ground.

"I told you," Rela whispered, her face inches from Sharya's, her breath hot against her skin. "You can't win."

With a flick of her wrist, she tossed Sharya to the ground like a ragdoll. Sharya hit the pavement hard, the wind knocked out of her as pain radiated through her body. She tried to push herself up, but her limbs felt heavy, her vision swimming from the impact.

Rela loomed over her, her azure flames flickering ominously as she raised her hand, ready to deliver the final blow.

But Sharya wasn't done yet.

Her grimoire, still floating beside her, glowed one last time. And with the last of her strength, she muttered, "Cloned Mind Magic: Infinite Thought Shield."

A shimmering barrier appeared between them, just as Rela's flames came crashing down. The shield held, though it flickered dangerously under the immense pressure.

Rela's eyes narrowed, her frustration evident. "You're delaying the inevitable, Sharya," she hissed. "Just give up."

But Sharya's lips curled into a defiant smirk. "Not… a chance."

Summoning the last reserves of her strength, Sharya pushed against the flames, her barrier expanding and forcing Rela to take a step back. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. And as long as she could keep fighting, she wasn't going to give up.

Not now.

Not ever.

A/N: And so, the attack on the Royal Capital begins!

Don't forget to review! Your feedback helps me get better and fix any plot holes or issues you might have with the story (disclaimer: it may take a few chapters for me to find an opportunity to fix them).