Day of Judgement

|Alistair|

The long-awaited day had arrived—the day when the year-long truce would crumble, and the fate of Dicathen would hang in the balance. The atmosphere crackled with tension as we stood in the heart of the city we had built atop the sacred Djinn sanctuary, ready to make our last stand.

Dicathen's final stand.

The four Lances and the four Paladins stood alongside other formidable mages, but deep down, I knew that only Rachel, Kathyln, and I possessed the strength to confront the relentless might of the dragons.

The moment was upon us, unfolding abruptly before our eyes. Portals materialized, and a horde of dragons emerged, their magical power far surpassing even the most skilled Lances. It was clear to everyone present that we faced an insurmountable challenge.

There were at least a hundred dragons assembled here.

How could we possibly overcome them all? How could I safeguard the people of Dicathen?

Such questions plagued my mind, yet answers eluded me as Kezess Indrath, their king, made his entrance. He had shed his regal attire in favor of battle-ready garb, his demeanor exuding an air of casual indifference.

Fortunately, there were no Claxters among their ranks, sparing me from the agonizing prospect of fighting against my own kin.

"Today, judgment shall be rendered," Kezess proclaimed, his voice monotone. "The dragons shall purge Dicathen of all lesser beings. I extend an offer of survival to Alistair Claxter, heir to the Claxter clan, provided he joins our cause."

My brows furrowed deeply. There was no way I would ever align myself with them.

"To secure your place," Kezess continued, "You must slay Tessia Eralith and deliver her lifeless body to me."

Rage surged within me, igniting my mana with an intensity that turned my eyes bloodshot.

"I refuse," I declared, my voice dripping with defiance.

"Then perish alongside the rest," he responded nonchalantly.

With lightning speed, I lunged toward him, wielding both swords in a determined assault aimed at his chest. Yet, effortlessly, he raised his hand, intercepting both blades without breaking a sweat.

At that crucial moment, Rachel manifested in her awe-inspiring Spirit Dive form, conjuring powerful torrents of water to assail Kezess.

'Good!' I thought, my mind sharp as it calculated our next moves. 'We can overcome this!'

Suddenly, an overwhelming aura enveloped us, its suffocating presence stealing the very breath from my lungs. I struggled for oxygen, the sensation akin to drowning in a sea of blood.

His King's Force exerted a formidable presence, but I refused to be overpowered. My own King's Force surged with unmatched strength, nullifying his feeble attempts.

"Seraphon, Vespera," Kezess called out, summoning two dragons to his side. One bore an impenetrable emerald hide, while the other shimmered with a scarlet sheen. They lunged at Rachel and me, launching a relentless assault.

Meanwhile, he raised his hands to the heavens. The other dragons, still in their fearsome draconic forms, opened their mighty jaws, gathering an immense reserve of mana.

Dragon Breath.

Though engaged in combat with Vespera, I couldn't help but be awestruck by the sheer magnitude of mana being amassed. Even with my mastery of aether, its vast coverage would prove futile against such overwhelming power.

Similar despair echoed in the minds of other mages, their defenses crumbling as they resigned themselves to their fate.

It seemed inevitable.

The chasm between lessers and Asuras was too vast to bridge, no matter the effort.

The torrent of breath hurtled toward us. Alone, I might have withstood the onslaught using my aether arts, but what would be the point? Kezess would surely slay me afterward.

Should I simply surrender?

However, just as I was about to give up, my eyes caught a mesmerizing sight unfolding at the edge of the battlefield.

Stars.

They materialized one by one, dotting the sky until they formed a perfect circle. Within the confines of this celestial ring, a shimmering veil of mana and aether emerged, creating a barrier that defied comprehension. It effortlessly intercepted and nullified the onslaught of the hundred Dragon Breaths, halting their destructive force in its tracks.

I couldn't believe what I was witnessing. The scale of the spell, its sheer potency, and the unfathomable ability to deflect such overwhelming power—it was beyond anything I had ever encountered.

"You're alive," I murmured in disbelief, recognizing the orchestrator behind this extraordinary feat.

"I will handle Kezess," he declared, his gaze meeting mine with a reassuring nod. With a tender smile directed at Rachel, he swiftly made his way towards Kezess, his presence commanding the attention of all.

"You... you survived?" Kezess stammered, his voice laden with astonishment and a tinge of fear.

He remained silent, emanating an aura of immeasurable power as he unleashed his mana, causing the battlefield to tremble under its weight. His resolve echoed through the air, shattering any doubts or uncertainties.

"Kezess Indrath, your reign ends here," Lancelot declared, his voice powerful and echoing across the battlefield.

|Third POV|

"You are strong," Kezess admitted, "But do you truly believe you can save Dicathen single-handedly?"

A group of dragons descended upon the mages, assuming their imposing human forms and toying with them effortlessly. One dragon in particular, with shimmering green scales, toyed with Bairon and Varay, easily swatting away their feeble attacks.

"It tickles!" she giggled, her voice laced with arrogance, before delivering a devastating blow that sent Bairon crashing into a nearby wall. The power differential was insurmountable. The mages seemed helpless against the overwhelming might of the dragons.

Lancelot's smile only widened in response to Kezess's taunt. "Is that so?" he replied with unwavering confidence.

Bairon, fueled by a relentless spirit, rose to his feet and launched another lightning-infused attack at the dragon. Though it seemed futile, his determination pushed him forward. To everyone's astonishment, his punch landed true, propelling the dragon backwards with tremendous force.

"What?" Varay exclaimed, his eyes widening in disbelief. Bairon's attack had become supercharged, its strength magnified a hundredfold in that fleeting moment.

A resounding blast of a horn echoed through the air, permeating every corner of the battlefield. Instantly, the ambient mana surged through the veins of every individual present, filling them with newfound power. However, instead of merely passing through their cores, it melded with their spells, amplifying their potency to unprecedented heights.

It was a perfect synergy.

"This is the manifestation of our love," spoke an adult Sylph, her ethereal form adorned with four fluttering wings. In her delicate hands, she held a mystical blowing horn. "Within this sacred space, ambient mana is harnessed, constricting our enemies and bolstering our allies. It redirects the mana of our foes to empower our allies, bridging the vast chasm that separates Asuras from lessers."

[Mana Zone: Never-never Land]

Kezess's eyes flashed with an ominous purple hue as arcane runes materialized upon his skin, heralding the unleashing of his formidable Realmheart power. He thrust his hand forward, attempting to conjure aether spells with the intent to assail Lancelot.

Yet, his efforts proved futile.

"With the mastery of star magic," Lancelot declared, his voice resonating with confidence, "Even aether bends to my will. It is the harmonious fusion of mana and aether, a transcendent art that combines the best of both worlds."

Kezess's brows furrowed as he advanced, delivering a potent punch infused with raw mana. Despite the overwhelming surge of ambient mana against him, Kezess remained the epitome of Asura might alive.

[Spirit of Notos]

Lancelot activated his Spirit Dive, merging with the essence of the Sylph, and swiftly summoned a shield of swirling wind to intercept and redirect Kezess's assault.

Kezess's arm trembled under the impact.

Meanwhile, the mages on the battlefield had begun to push back against the dragon onslaught. Empowered by Lancelot's mana zone, Alistair and Rachel exuded newfound strength, effortlessly cleaving through even the dragon race's formidable generals.

"I am the steadfast guardian of Dicathen," Lancelot proclaimed, his voice carrying the weight of unwavering resolve. He unleashed the power of [Spirit of Zephyr], enveloping himself in a vortex of ethereal wind. "No longer will anyone lay their hands upon my beloved continent."

His blade, honed with unwavering purpose, streaked towards Kezess, who, in a display of his indomitable strength, erected a shield of swirling mana and bolstered his defenses with his draconian scales.

The clash between Kezess and Lancelot intensified, each exchange of blows bringing them closer to the decisive moment when Lancelot would shatter Kezess's defenses with a single, devastating strike.

Despite Kezess's aevum-enhanced foresight, he struggled to match Lancelot's unrivaled combination of wind spirit magic and star magic. The speed at which Lancelot moved overwhelmed him, leaving him constantly on the defensive.

Lancelot employed both his halberd and sword, seamlessly switching weapons and tactics, effortlessly adapting to Kezess's moves and swordmanship. With the swift invocation of [Spirit of Notos], he deflected Kezess's attacks whenever necessary, effortlessly pushing him back.

Even Kezess's prized advantage, his control over ambient mana through Realmheart, paled in comparison to the sheer power of Lancelot's mana zone. Furthermore, Kezess's once formidable aetheric arts proved useless against Lancelot's mastery.

It appeared to be an unwinnable situation, a seemingly insurmountable challenge.

Yet, victory was not beyond reach.

Even Lancelot had his limits. The strain of breaking through Kezess's defenses while simultaneously maintaining his mana zone began to take its toll. If Kezess could persist, if he could endure, he had a chance to turn the tables and emerge triumphant.

Kezess's mind raced, searching for the optimal strategy to secure victory. After careful calculation, he found a solution.

He pushed himself to the edge of Lancelot's mana zone, drawing him further into the fierce exchange of blows. Their weapons clashed with resounding force, the intensity of their battle escalating.

As they neared the boundary, Kezess ignited his Realmheart to its maximum potential. The dragon heart within him churned, generating an immense surge of mana. Though it was an imperfect technique, it mirrored Lancelot's mana zone, aiming to disrupt a portion of its stability.

While Kezess knew he couldn't fully dismantle Lancelot's mana zone, he aimed to create a fracture that would force Lancelot to divert precious mana towards its repair. The strain it would impose on Lancelot would be significant, buying Kezess the time he needed.

In a burst of purple mana, Kezess fiercely resisted Lancelot's influence. Lancelot, caught off guard, realized the threat too late as Kezess successfully ruptured a hole in his mana zone. Seizing the moment, Kezess immersed himself in the influx of ambient mana that streamed through the breach, harnessing its power to fortify himself for the ensuing battle.

Lancelot swiftly moved to mend his mana zone, but the effort required to close the breach would deplete his mana reserves. Kezess intended to exploit this opening, capitalizing on Lancelot's weakened state once the repairs were complete.

It was a gamble, a calculated risk that could shift the tides of the battle in Kezess's favour.

With a swift and precise motion, Kezess unleashed a powerful slash, enveloping his sword with ambient aether. Lancelot, anticipating the attack, swiftly activated [Spirit of Notos] to deflect the blow. However, it proved to be his gravest misstep.

Kezess's blade sliced through the defensive barrier, nearly severing Lancelot's left arm and inflicting a deep, gaping wound across his chest. Empowered by his success, Kezess pressed forward, intent on cornering Lancelot and delivering the killing blow.

But Lancelot, in a desperate move, teleported away, reappearing behind Kezess with his halberd raised high.

Kezess whirled around, expertly parrying Lancelot's assault with his sword. Despite Lancelot's employment of [Spirit of Boreas], the sheer force exerted by Kezess prevented him from overpowering his adversary.

Kezess countered with a relentless combination of spells and sword strikes, each one aimed to overwhelm Lancelot. However, to his astonishment, Lancelot gracefully evaded every attack, moving with a grace and precision reminiscent of a skilled ballerina dancing through a storm of blades.

The battle between them reached a fever pitch, each combatant displaying remarkable skill and finesse. Kezess's frustration grew as Lancelot effortlessly evaded his onslaught, his movements almost preternatural.

Kezess pushed himself to the brink, his body strained from the relentless battle. It had been ages since he had been pushed to such limits, not since his encounter with Saphira Claxter.

Once more, Lancelot's blade clashed with Kezess's sword, their powers colliding with a mighty force. The culmination of Spirit Dive and Realmheart dissipated into nothingness, leaving them standing face to face, their true strength laid bare.

As the mana zone surrounding them dispersed, Kezess exulted in what he believed to be his imminent victory. Yet, to his dismay, he realized that the presence of dragons had vanished entirely.

Seizing the opportunity, before Lancelot could react, Kezess launched a powerful kick to his chest, propelling him backward. Through a swiftly conjured portal, he made his retreat, vowing with a venomous tone, "Next time, lesser, I will end you."

Lancelot landed hard onto the ground, his body throbbing with exhaustion and his mind swirling with the intensity of the battle. The weight of his fatigue settled upon him, reminding him of the toll that such confrontations exacted on even the mightiest of warriors.

As Lancelot rose from the ground, brushing off the dirt that clung to his clothing, he felt a surge of anticipation coursing through him. After over a year apart, he was eager to reunite with Rachel, the girl who held his heart.

In an instant, a familiar figure with flowing blonde locks leaped into his waiting arms. A radiant smile adorned his face as he enveloped her in a warm embrace, cherishing the feeling of her head nestled against his chest.

"You're...you're alive!" Rachel exclaimed through teary eyes, a mixture of joy and relief washing over her.

Lancelot's voice was tender as he whispered into her ear, "I missed you too, Rachel."

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she blamed herself, her words choked with guilt. "It was my fault... I urged you to attack the Legacy, and that's why... why you..."

Gently, Lancelot hushed her with a soothing touch. "No, Rachel, it was not your fault. I made the choice, and it was my own weakness that led to that outcome. But now, I have grown stronger. I will protect you with all my might."

In the comforting embrace of one another, they found solace and warmth. Lancelot pulled back slightly, his hands tenderly cupping Rachel's face.

"Allow me to see your beautiful face, my lady," he requested, a playful glimmer in his eyes.

With a playful protest, Rachel tried to evade his gaze. "Oh no, I've just been crying," she murmured, attempting to push him away.

Lancelot chuckled affectionately, his voice filled with adoration. "I couldn't care less. Do you know how much I missed you?"

Eventually, Rachel relented, her puffy eyes meeting his gaze. Even in her vulnerable state, she remained breathtaking, with her cute nose, golden tresses, and sapphire eyes.

Lancelot drew her closer, their lips meeting in a tender kiss. Time seemed to stand still as their hearts intertwined, and Rachel melted into his embrace, feeling safe and loved.

|Lancelot|

After successfully repelling the dragon onslaught, albeit with significant losses, we made our way back to the sanctuary of the Djinn. The toll of the battle weighed heavily on our hearts, with over three thousand mages having laid down their lives in the desperate fight. However, we managed to strike a significant blow, slaying a hundred dragons in retaliation.

The defeat suffered by the Indraths was undeniably humiliating, a bitter pill to swallow for the once-proud clan. Amidst the aftermath, my first priority was to reunite with my father. His joy at seeing me alive and well was palpable, and we spent precious moments catching up on all that had transpired. It was decided that I would bring him to a meeting, where I could share my story with everyone of importance in one gathering.

The Lances, Commander Virion, the fellow Paladins, and my father stood alongside me as we convened. Eager to hear my account, Virion urged me to explain the events that had transpired.

I recounted my extraordinary journey, starting from the moment of my supposed demise at the hands of the Legacy. I shared the tale of awakening in the sacred cavern, where the majestic phoenixes dwelled. I described the trials, the training, and the bond I had formed with those magnificent creatures.

"The phoenixes will stand with us," I stated, a sense of conviction and optimism infusing my words. "They possess strength that rivals that of the average dragon."

Indeed, those phoenixes were the elite of their kind, a force to be reckoned with.

As the meeting drew to a close, Virion offered his words of welcome, acknowledging my return with sincerity. A smile graced my lips, a culmination of relief and contentment.

It felt immensely gratifying to be back where I belonged, surrounded by my comrades and loved ones, ready to face the challenges ahead with renewed vigor and purpose. Home, at last.