Chapter 26

The stillness of the room and the relatively dim lighting of candles made for flickering shadows to stretch irregularly in the light.

Aside from the dim lighting and the candles, all that was present in the room was a lone table which had two chairs propped against it. He was in one of those two chairs.

It was the same setting and stillness he'd put up with for the past four days.

His arms were crossed, and his back pressed straight against the chair he was seated on, a calm expression on his face as he stared forth at the woman who sat in front of him once again.

The Witch, Morgan le Fay.

Without the hood, she was admittedly a rare sort of beauty. Her hair was trimmed lightly, cascading down her back as the long strands that made up her bangs were tied in a simple design around her head. She wore the same robe he had seen her wear for the past few days. Dark in colour, it seemed to stretch tight against her rather than the conventional ones of the era which were loose and baggy. Still, her features alone were befitting of a member of royalty from the line of Uther; Arturia was much the same despite hiding under the guise of a man.

She stared at him, and he back before Morgan ended up sighing, a tinge of repressed frustration evident in her eyes.

"I can offer riches, resources, and even the very lands that surround us," Morgan began slowly, her voice gaining heat in their ferocity. "And yet what does she have to offer you? Nothing but her sentiments."

"I still stand by my answer," he replied back evenly. Nothing Morgan could say would ever sway him.

That was what love was. A feeling that regardless of what personal gain or sheer logic could offer, would still become irrelevant. More than altruism, it was something a person could never abandon easily, if at all, once found. More so for him whose sole reason to become a hero was to reunite with her.

It was a tale of a youth who followed his ideals despite numerous setbacks and redundancies, and yet still followed through in the end. For a promise that he made, and a hope he held dear.

Nothing could cause his resolve to falter.

And Morgan must have understood something about him by now, as once again, the woman ended up pursing her lips.

"You are truly too stubborn to know what's good for you," Morgan seethed, straightening her back, but not doing anything else in the meantime.

"Coming from the words of a woman of ill repute and questionable acts," he shrugged his shoulders. "It's only natural."

A tense calm was shared between the two where the sounds of clenching fists could be heard.

Efret who was perched atop his shoulder narrowed its eyes, watching as Morgan unclenched her fists and then took a breath.

"You really are quite infuriating," Morgan said. "Many times, I've contemplated what I should do with you now that you've continuously refused my good will. Perhaps this will be the day?"

It was clearly a threat, yet he wasn't fazed.

"Take down the runes around this room, and we can find out," he replied.

This was primarily the reason he had stayed for the past four days.

The runes spread out across the exterior of the building he resided in prevented the activation of a magi's mysteries as well as prevented hostile action. After all, if he put himself in Morgan's position, it was a safety precaution to avoid drawing Merlin's attention should a battle occur. Of course, this prevented Morgan from taking action with her own mage craft herself. Yet, that was beside the matter. Without his mage craft, it had become difficult to exit the room buried beneath the ground of the building above through physical means. The only way out was through a door that only Morgan could access within the space.

And she was always near it.

In any case, the simple thought of impeding her had once flashed across his mind, but he knew Morgan wasn't one to leave herself disadvantaged. Thus, he didn't follow through with the conjecture.

"I think not," Morgan said simply in reply to his earlier remark. "I do not fear battle, nor do I fear that Wizard, but precautions are something that I believe should be practiced. In your case, I will give you only a single day more before I put an end to this farce."

He knew what Morgan was implying. Even though Morgan could not use her magic, what was to stop her from filling the room with a type of poisonous gas?

Thinking about the past few days, Morgan had actually been quite hospitable despite her cold demeanor and less than stellar intentions. She had provided him food and even sent in a few books on magic he could read in his spare time. Then again, it was probably a show of good will to sway him to her cause. However, based on her words, Morgan's patience was near its end.

He kept a neutral expression as Morgan seemed to search for something on him after she had spoken.

Evidently, she was bound to be disappointed.

At that moment, just as Morgan moved to open her mouth to speak again, she faltered; gem like eyes narrowing into slits. He knew that reaction on her face. After all, he wore a similar one before when something triggered the effect of one of his bounded fields.

Morgan got up from the table across from him and made to exit. Yet just before she left, she paused.

"You really won't leave her for me?" Morgan asked back softly.

"I'm sorry, but no," his answer was the same as it always was.

Morgan's back stiffened, her fingers holding onto the door frame piercing into the wood. Eventually, she let go and disappeared past the heavy door of the room, a hunch in her posture.

Even as Morgan disappeared out of his sight, he could understand what was going through her mind. The envy and indignation as everything was once again taken by a sibling she should have loved, but now hated beyond simple pettiness: The woman of once respectable repute becoming something Uther never would have had perceived.

He moved his thoughts away from the topic. All that mattered was that Morgan would eventually bring harm to Arturia, and it was proven in another time line. That alone was enough to put her and him on opposite sides.

He closed his eyes and continued to concentrate on the project he had been working on for the past few days.

The room around him prevented the activation of a magi's mysteries by disrupting the line of od a magus could utilize in a magic pathway. It was like sending an alternating current through a pathway that required direct flow. It wouldn't work.

Regardless of the disruption in his energy, there was something on his possession that could utilize this by utilizing one of its properties. Storage as a Magic Crest.

The Ashton Magic Crest began to glow as he concentrated on it, storing his four days' worth of magical energy. This was his trump card against Morgan le Fay should she take down the runes surrounding him to utilize her own magic. He would explode forth with the power harnessed from four days in one go. Doing so should allow him enough leeway to trace more than just a few Noble Phantasm to oppose her.

It was just that, he hadn't yet thought about what he would do if Morgan actually did fill the room with poison gas of some sort. If the time came, then he would deal with it then.

Besides, as his eyes landed on a burning Efret, a solution came to mind. The flames around Efret should be able to nullify any effects of a poison.

From the expression that had appeared on Morgan's face, it was clear that something was going on above.

With that thought in mind, he and Efret waited patiently while storing his magical power.

Waiting for the slightest of disruptions before unleashing it all in a single burst.

LINE BREAK

Standing in front of the Vernier Estate, she watched as Sir Ector argued with the guards standing with their weapons drawn at the front gate.

"If you won't grant us entry, then first send word to your liege," Sir Ector insisted.

The two guards stared at each other for a moment before turning back to sir Ector and shaking their heads.

"We have orders from the Madam to turn away all guests. Even our liege was in full agreements, so unfortunately, you all can't pass." Saying this, one of the guards put on a troubled expression. "Please don't make this difficult for us," the guard said nervously.

This was natural as the aura exuding from Sir Ector, Kay, and herself was far from calm. In fact, hers was quite agitated, one hand already placed on the hilt of her sword. No pity could be found in her gaze for the guards currently impeding her way. In fact, she had even contemplated attacking them and just knocking them out. This way, Lord Vernier should not find too much trouble with the two for ineptitude.

It was fortunate though that Merlin acted first.

"I am the Wizard Merlin, surely you both have heard of me?" Merlin asked, placing a hand on Sir Ector's shoulder before stepping forward grandiosely.

Hearing Merlin's name seemed to have the right reaction as the two guards immediately became flustered, one of the two finally deciding to bring the matter to Lord Vernier. However, this guard had made quite the commotion while doing so, drawing a large number of knights from the Vernier family's barracks to watch curiously.

Merlin was unperturbed about the situation. It was only Sir Ector, Kay, Bors, and Gerrard who grew serious, staring at the Vernier family's knights and considering threat level.

The Vernier family was after all one of the most influential families of Roan, and the amount of men it recruited as knights was no laughing matter.

It was one of the processes of the Feudal System where each noble serving a King was allotted a piece of land to manage. On this land, the noble could amass a personal army that would move on call from the King which the noble was obligated to follow. Lord Vernier was one such noble, but currently there was no King in power to dictate the man's actions. As such, Lord Vernier had stock piled his amount of loyal personnel instead of sending them to combat the foreign invaders.

As such, it came as no surprise that there were hundreds of them now staring at her and the others, primarily at Melrin though.

It would be five minutes of being under these gazes that the guard that had went to inform Lord Vernier of the situation returned.

"F-Follow me," the guard stuttered, tripping over himself due to not knowing how to act in front of a figure as famous as Merlin.

She didn't care much about that though, and instead urged Merlin to walk faster rather than with the lazy gait Merlin was displaying.

Merlin reluctantly complied with a sigh.

The estate the guard was guiding them through was large. It was mainly open fields of farmland and people that tended to them, but for the most part, it was the large residence quickly approaching that took all attention.

Built from a combination of heavy oak, stone, and lavish decor, the entire building looked like something she could only ever dream of seeing in the central towns of Britain. Painted a dull red with the brown contrast of wood, the place became even more stunning with the collection of trimmed foliage leading up to the main entrance.

Unexpectedly, a familiar face was there to greet them that made the Son of Wolfred's expression to darken, and Palamid to grasp his sword.

It was Petris Vernier, the youngest son of the Lord of the estate.

Clearly Petris had not expected them either as he was far from prepared when he grew flustered from the Son of Wolfred and Palamid's approach. Well, Palamid's approach mostly as the Petris was probably far from forgetting the face beneath.

Then again neither was she and Emily who was sticking close to Bors for protection.

Petris coughed into his hand. "Y-You all, what are you doing here?" Petris asked, feeling self-conscious under Palamid's gaze. Petris cradled the wound that Palamid had inflicted on his arm. Clearly, Petris held a grudge, but was unwilling to do anything.

As the Son of Wolfred, or Palamid in this case could respond with something biting, Sir Ector moved forward to stop them.

"Child," Sir Ector began. "I am wondering if anything unusual has occurred here to your knowledge?"

Taking a quick glance at Sir Ector and verifying his status as a Noble and a Knight, Petris decided to answer to the best of his ability after inflating his chest up in front of Palamid. Petris was probably trying to improve his impression on the silent squire. 'He was not afraid,' was what Petris was going for, but clearly, from Palamid's lack of response, it wasn't working.

Put out by this, Petris answered weakly as the guard whispered into his ear about Merlin. Hearing the name Merlin, Petris's eyes soon brightened. "If you're speaking of unusual, it has to be with father. He, he hasn't been the same ever since that damnable woman showed up," Petris spoke. "Hell, it's gotten even worse lately after she brought along that winner of the Young Blade's competition to her residence in the estate."

"What?!"

She pushed past both Sir Ector and Merlin before pulling Petris in front of her by the scruff of his neck. "What did you just say?"

She realized then that the expression on her face was terrifying; Petris's face rapidly paling as he spluttered out for an explanation. Still, she didn't care. "Hurry up, say that again!"

"T-The Madam brought the winner of the Young Blade's competition to her part of the estate just over there."

Petris pointed weakly at the other building beside the main estate.

Yet before she could charge forward in that direction, the main door of the large residence opened to reveal a gruff looking middle-aged man of tall stature. His hair was cropped neatly to the side, and his face was square with a tanned complexion befitting of a man who'd went hunting game early spring and late summer.

At this moment though, the man did not appear amused.

This was the lord of the estate. Lord Vernier.

"Merlin the Wizard," Lord Vernier spoke stepping forward. The clothes on his body were a combination of loose fitting and baggy; a mantle hung just over the man's right shoulder. "As unwilling as I am to say this, I would have to ask you to leave my home."

"Oh, is that so?" Merlin said. "Quite a welcoming you have for us then."

Quickly she realized that Merlin had ended up beside her, but she was confused as to why.

It only became clear when she noticed the woman walking towards her direction, and the armed knights following closely behind.

It was the Madam of the Vernier Estate. And this time, the Madam wasn't concealing her features.

As she stared at the Madam, shock flashed in her eyes. She knew that woman. There could be no mistake as she looked into a pair of eyes and features somewhat similar to her own.

It was her elder sister, Morgan le Fay.

As Morgan drew close, the group of Knights following behind made a perimeter that encircled the entire party. Moments later, the madam moved to stand by Lord Vernier's side.

"Father, you intend to fight the Wizard?! What has she done to you!?" Petris called in disbelief.

Lord Vernier ignored Petris, giving only a single statement. "All is for the sake of the family."

"Then I'm afraid to say that you've made the wrong choice," Merlin said calmly.

After which a sound was soon heard in her ears.

"Can you hear me, Arturia?"

It was Merlin's voice, yet Merlin hadn't moved his lips. Confused, she still nodded anyway to show she had heard Merlin's question.

"Good, then you don't have to respond back to me. Just listen instead. Do you remember that building that Petris fellow had pointed to? Well, even from here I can detect the presence of mage craft surrounding it. You don't need to concern yourself about which type of mage craft it is, only that it's probably where Shirou is being held. I should be able to deal with your sister, but doing so while protecting everyone else can prove difficult even for the greatest Wizard alive such as myself."

It was clear about what Merlin was implying. Merlin was hinting for her to save Shirou to help ease the burden in protecting everyone.

Hearing this, she clenched her hands into fists as a goal formed in her mind. Yet, she couldn't take her eyes off of her sister. Why was Morgan doing this? Ever since she was young, she could never recall doing anything to antagonize her elder sister.

Thinking about how Morgan had taken away Shirou from her, for some reason, an unfamiliar emotion of hate began to bubble up from within her. It was so much so that Morgan was taken aback by it. Yet Morgan smiled at her at that moment, cold callous, and knowing.

Fury threatened to overtake her, however, she quickly shook it off. Now wasn't the time.

Looking back at Merlin, and then to the expressions of everyone else beside her, she understood that Merlin was communicating with them in the same way he had with her.

Impatience caused her to fidget. All it would take was one signal from Merlin and she's charge forth towards the direction specified. After all, she knew that right now, she was far from Morgan's match. Not until her training was complete.

"Once I say the signal Arturia, I want you to charge forward with all the strength that you have. The others should follow swiftly. When you get close enough, I need you to do two things. First, feel out the magical energy and determine an origin for the source; I should have taught you enough about magecraft to understand this point. If you have trouble, just activate your magic core. The second thing can only be dealt with after finding the first. You must disrupt the flow of magic either by breaking the medium, or altering the rune. Remember this well."

Her magic core. That pulsating heat she could still feel from within her chest. That was her power. Her strength to use.

When Shirou had first asked her to fight together with him, she had been more than just content, yet it wasn't to last. After all, the situations she faced together with him were always out of her control and not restricted to the violence of the battlefield. Instead, there were always elements of magic and supernatural events way out of her hands.

Now, now it was different.

Even as she saw Merlin's mouth begin to move, and the sudden actions of her sister Morgan, she had already taken off. A blur on the open fields that crashed into the enemy lines like a hot bullet.

Mana Burst was the skill she was using. It had been one she had used unknowingly before, but had now mastered to a degree after instruction from Merlin.

Blasts of magic and sounds of rumbling earth echoed behind her ears, but she trusted in Merlin despite the man's womanizing tendencies. Even if she would never admit it, Merlin was like a wayward uncle to her. One she didn't get along with at times, but nonetheless, would never give up on.

"Shit!"

One of the knights of Vernier swore as her sword grazed against the knight's chest plate, producing sparks and causing her brows to furrow. Nonetheless, she quickly followed through by planting her feet into the ground and twisting her body to send her sword swerving up.

A red line formed over the enemy knight's neck before a wet gurgling sound entered her ears, her opponent falling towards the grass.

For an instant, she stared at her sword before staring at the Knight's armour.

This was the sword Shirou had made for her. An Ashton made creation as James Wolfred called it. Able to slice through stone itself like butter. Yet it met resistance on the enemy's armour? It had Morgan's work written all over it.

She was quick to come to a conclusion as she dived away from another opponent's swing, pressing her hands to the ground while an explosion of Mana Burst drove her sword through the knight's stomach.

A sickening squelch resounded as she pulled back her sword, momentarily giving her pause.

It was here that yet another knight in the group she had charged into attempted to take her life.

However, this knight was doomed to fail, an arrow lodged into the openings of the knight's visor.

"Get a move on kid, leave yer back to me," Gerrard called from behind.

Just as Merlin had told her, Gerrard and the rest were quick to follow as soon as the signal was given.

Gerrard as the archer was heavily protected by Sir Ector, Kay, and Bors. The son of Wolfred, Palamid, and Emily were within this protection. This was for the best though as the swords that could cut through stone were no longer as effective against the opponents.

In a fair fight, a knight would normally defeat a squire.

With this reasoning, Bors had adamantly prevented Palamid and the Son of Wolfred from participating. In her case, she was an exception as she had a Magic Core to help make up for the difference in experience.

Emily for her part though didn't seem as nervous, hesitantly cradling some sort of object in her hand.

Seeing that Emily and the others were safe, and knowing that she had Gerrard's support, she continued on her war path towards the building Petris had singled out.

However, as she turned to the knights of Vernier blocking her path, she quickly realized that they had labeled her as a threat. No longer were the knights spread out, they were now compacted together with those possessing shields at the forefront.

"Fall back Arturia," Sir Ector called gravely. "This isn't the time to charge in recklessly."

She nodded her head, and soon had her back facing her friends and family.

Sir Ector took charge immediately. A man who had gone through war and experienced much, his words and instructions were to be followed.

"Gerrard, can you disrupt them?" Sir Ector spoke.

"Aye, that I can," Gerrard spoke.

Gerrard had his bow held in his mouth as he used both hands to pull forth a type of heavy arrow from the quiver he had brought with him. "Only brought one of these with me. One of the ten my old man gave me."

The arrow that came from Gerrard's quiver did not appear heavy, but it became evident from the bulging veins of Gerrard's arms. "G-Give me a second, this is a delicate procedure."

Releasing the bow from his mouth, Gerrard propped it against the ground as he struggled to notch the bow with his lone arm. "Alright, I'm ready," Gerrard spoke. "I just can't aim well with this. Lucky for me, they're directly in front of us."

With that said, she watched as Gerrard let the arrow fly with a murmur. An incantation she could only recognize now that she had learned from Merlin.

A rune shimmered to life from the shaft, twisting grey winds enveloping the arrow from the tip and working its way down towards the base.

She almost couldn't help but gawk at the sight. It was like seeing a miniature tornado, the outline reminiscent of the conical shape of a pin pushing again stretched leather.

If she nearly gawked, then the enemy side faired far worse.

Panic had been the initial reaction, their formation breaking like water to sand. As swiftly as the arrow was launched, it had disappeared along with a clear path left in its wake. Black dots could be seen scattered throughout the horizon, bodies falling down and splattering like water balloons in the distance.

Following this, the clatter of steel falling against the ground echoed out in the silence of the estate.

Many of the Vernier families Knights had heard stories from the townsfolk about what had happened in the battle of the river Glein. It was just, none had believed any of the rumours that had proliferated. Yet now…

A knight trembled before falling to the ground on wobbly knees. No longer were there any looks of confidence on the knight's faces. Now they were just terrified and unable to move.

"Another one, you had another one with you?"

The voice came too suddenly, chilling to her ears.

Quickly she turned around towards the source, but by then it was just to see Morgan standing in front of Gerrard within the circle of protection Kay and the others had set up.

Morgan appeared fatigued, her complexion flushed with a shade of red that wasn't just from exertion. The clothes Morgan wore were ruffled, some garments out of place and somewhat stained from the sheen of sweat Morgan had worked up.

Regardless, though, what caused her blood to freeze was the way Gerrard lay sprawled against the ground, unmoving.

She could recall the times she had spent with the man, and although she didn't really have a good impression of him, Gerrard was still someone she could call friend. Gerrard had been there to help deal with the monster in her youth. He had been there to help Shirou in the war with the Saxons, and now here he was helping her.

Once again, her eyes trailed down to Gerrard's form.

He still wasn't moving.

"MORGAN!" A roar burst out from within her, but just as she was about to charge forward in her rage, another beat her too it.

It was Charles of Deadsacs. Having been forced to come by Gerrard, Chalres had been meek and quite throughout the entire ordeal to avoid drawing harm to himself; he was after all, just a regular man. Yet now, here he was attacking Morgan the Witch in a rage.

"Y-You, you, how dare you!" Charles swung in a frenzy, uncaring that a field of sorts was diverting all of his blows. "He, he was-!"

Something seemed to snap in Charles and somehow his hands had made their way to Gerrard's quiver of bows. Unconsciously pulling out an arrow, he stabbed forward with a shaking grip.

The arrow glowed with a dull light, piercing through the filed surrounding Morgan to Morgan's surprise. Yet in the end, Charles and his efforts were futile as she simply dismissed the man with a flick of her wrist, crumpling Charles to the ground.

It was then that Merlin arrived, taking the opportunity granted by Charles's distraction to kick Morgan away.

Spittle flew, and Morgan glared back in contempt.

Merlin stood, a rare expression of frustration on his face and a few tears in his clothes. Moments later, he ignored Morgan in favour of glancing at Gerrard and Charles's condition.

Yet, before Merlin could do anything further, Morgan was already taking action, catching Merlin in a ball of magic and sending him back sever hundred meters. Morgan then pursued.

Left to themselves, Sir Ector was the first to walk up to their fallen comrades, a grim expression on his face. "Kay, Bors," Sir Ector called. "We must defend them here. I don't want to risk moving them, and even then, there's nowhere safe here to move them to."

Kay and Bors nodded in understanding. She nodded soon after.

It was at this moment though that Lord Vernier appeared with of group of his men.

"You fools. What are you doing? Can't you see that the Madam interfered for your benefit?" Lord Vernier sneered. "Without that magic archer, what are they too an army of you?"

Hearing what their leader said, the knights of Vernier once again took up arms.

Her brows furrowed. The situation wasn't good.

"Can you hear me, Arturia?"

Merlin's vice once again sounded in her ears.

"Do you see the path Gerrard has made for you? The opening leading to your destination?"

Indeed, she could. Even as the Knights of Vernier regained their vigor, a substantial hole had been made in their encirclement.

"You must not waste the opportunity granted to you. With your Magic Core, it wouldn't be unexpected for you to make use of it."

She would have agreed with that sentiment, but how could she just leave her family and friends to fend for themselves against all these enemies? She couldn't.

"Go," Sir Ectors voice urged her on. "We'll stand a better chance with Shirou's help. Isn't that what Merlin was too lazy to tell you? I can tell he was talking to you. Don't underestimate the man who raised you. Besides, I've still got some strength in these old bones, and Kay and Bors are not lacking in any way."

"Arthur," Emily called stepping forward. "Bring him back to us. We'll handle it here," saying that, Emily crushed the object that was cradled in her hands without any more hesitation, a brief swish of wind uplifting her hair. "We'll just have to hold on for a while."

Finally, after Emily's persuasion, and after staring at the looks in her friends and family's eyes, she made her resolve.

Mana Burst.

She was like light itself, moving so fast that not even the knights that attempted to stop her could block her.

At that instant as she exited the knight's encirclement, her gaze shifted backwards. The Knights of Vernier had completely collapsed on her friends and family, Sir Ector, Kay, and Bors beating back wave after wave of enemies despite their numbers alone. Even Palamid and the Son of Wolfred were no exception to the fighting, their swords valiantly hammering against the enemies.

For those fighting behind her, and for him who was held trapped in the building before her, she could not allow herself to fail.

A large group of the Knights of Vernier were pursuing her, yet she was too fast for any of them to catch up.

It didn't take long to reach the building Petris had said Shirou was at.

The objectives Merlin had told her filtered into her mind. She had to find the source of magic power.

Closing her eyes, she once again activated her magic core. With a thrum she felt out at her surroundings.

At first, she couldn't feel anything, but then, almost like the feeling of touch on her skin, she detected it. The presence of a field. A dome of sorts being supplied by a single point of origin.

She opened her eyes, and there before her was a marking made of dried ink hidden by the foliage of a bush.

Her second objective from Merlin was to disrupt it.

And thus, she made her way forward only to pause abruptly as a dagger planted itself at her feet.

A black-armored youth similar to her age, based on his stature alone, walked out to stand in front of the marking.

"Move," she spoke. It was her only warning.

She didn't have much time, and the group of knights pursuing her was drawing near.

"I have my orders," the youth spoke. "I am not to move from here."

Left with no choice, she brandished her sword and charged forward. She had already faced knights and defeated many. What was just a mere squire compared to that? And yet, the lesson Shirou had once taught her as a child surfaced to her mind. The one where Shirou had defeated her with a tree branch, a twig no less.

Do not underestimate the opponent.

Observe quietly, and then make judgements.

This youth knew to stand protectively in front of the origin point of the magic surrounding the building. It was too much of a coincidence.

She halted her charge, and fell into a closed stance, her sword held horizontally in front of her.

The youth made no motion to attack, leaving the two in a tense silence. However, different from the youth, she needed to make as much haste as possibly.

She initiated with a probing strike, shocked when her blade was deflected so easily. Even then, a line of blood trailed down her arm from the exchange.

Unperturbed, she stepped forward, putting strength into her thighs while executing a horizontal slash.

It was promptly parried, her blade striking against the youth's and locking.

She activated Mana Burst, and the increase in power drew a strained grunt from the youth before her. However, to her shock, the youth withstood the power of her Mana Burst, not budging an inch.

"Magic," the youth clicked his tongue before disengaging and drawing back to make distance. From there, the youth now began to initiate attacks.

The clang of steel resonated in the air.

Sweat trailed down her face to drip down from her chin.

The armored youth before her was good. Better than any she had faced aside from her friends and family.

She pulled her head backwards, dodging a quick swipe of the youth's sword. At least, she thought she did. Strands of her hair fell upon the earth, a portion of her bangs missing.

Anger filled her eyes, but she kept calm and didn't act rashly.

Moving past the youth's swing, she parried with her sword and then shoved forward with her shoulder, sending them both tumbling against the ground. In the process, she had effectively disarmed the youth.

Still on the ground, she quickly straddled him, bringing up her sword to stab down.

"Futile."

The youth twisted his body, angling his leg up to suddenly kick her away.

Winded from the strike, she breathed deeply as the youth once again picked up the sword he had dropped. Cuts and bruises were evident on the youth, and it was clear that he had taken some damage. Yet the same could be said to her.

Placing strength into her arms, she got ready to resume. To defeat the youth in front of her, and then disrupt the magical formation behind him. However, contrary to expectations, the youth sheathed his sword.

"A shame," the youth said monotonously.

She couldn't understand at first about what the youth meant before a sword slashed her in the back, making her stumble.

The Knights of Vernier that were pursing her had arrived. And one of them had attacked, ignoring the code of honour of knights dueling.

She gritted her teeth from the pain, her legs wobbling, yet she remained standing, staggering forward with the momentum of the enemy's swing.

Oddly, the youth did not impede her as she stepped onward; turning his body to the side as she finally fell flat on the ground because of the injury and the exhaustion that had taken over her. It was only to be expected though after her continued use of Mana Burst. The injury only sped up the process. At this time, the ink marking was in sight.

It was right in front of her. So much so that all she would have to do was reach out to touch it.

She did so with much effort.

A desperate slip of a finger, and the tiniest of disruptions.

Then the world shook, tremors running through the ground and causing everyone present pause. Knees buckling, and bodies swaying, the building before her all but exploded, ejecting blocks of stone and wood to fall against the grown like rain.

Pot holes were formed, some bloodied by the unfortunate souls of those unable to react in time, their bodies crushed beyond recognition. The screams of those injured numbered in the dozens, the sound, chilling to the bone.

Yet even then, it was not the end.

Flames erupted in spiraled torrents only fueled further by the zephyrs that blew in. Embers drifted towards the earth, ephemeral and quickly fading; the heat setting a flame to the land and making it thick with ash and smoke. The air suddenly became stifled and suffocating, a narrowed pair of emerald eyes peering forth from within the towering blaze.

And in that chaos,

"I am, the Bone of my Sword."

A voice spoke from the rising dust of the debris. Deep, resonating, and filled with a power that took root within one's very being.

And in its wake, was a sky of bronze, heat, and steel gleaming with the prestige of years of use and bloodshed.

A Horizon of limitless Swords.