Uprooted the Aristocratic Technocracy Organization(9)

Desmond muttered inwardly, his voice barely a whisper as he contemplated the Expert Spell and Lost Spell. His expression turned solemn, his eyes narrowing as he locked his gaze upon the middle-aged man, searching for any signs of weakness amidst the chaos of the battle.

The tide of the conflict had already shifted unfavorably, their forces in a state of disarray. Felix, their ally, was held captive, and now their adversaries boasted the power of a 3rd class wizard. Yet, as Desmond observed the middle-aged man's worn and weary countenance, a glimmer of hope ignited within him.

"Keep her alive," Desmond silently conveyed his command through the magic messages, reaching out to his maids who had been exposed after his spells and control over the elements had been obliterated. His once regal appearance was now marred by a tattered gown, the remnants of a shattered mask. They resembled beggars clad in once opulent garments.