The atmosphere in the throne hall of Dreonah’s royal castle had grown quite tense.
It was inevitable—the battle had already begun.
At first, only the distant echoes of steel meeting steel could be heard, the occasional crackle of mana splitting the air. But as the minutes dragged on, the sounds of combat grew closer, louder, more ominous.
They had breached the city.
And now, they were closing in.
"We should prepare ourselves, Your Majesty."
A respectful voice broke through the husher.
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Ridgen, a high-ranking Hunter and one of the King’s most trusted confidants, stepped forward. He had long served as a Private Hunter for the royal family and was a close friend of King Harvin.
The King sat on his throne, his gaze locked on some distant point beyond the grand hall. He didn’t flinch at the approaching chaos—he had expected this. Perhaps, deep down, he had always known it would come to this.
Even now, the battle raged on outside the castle walls. The city had not yet fallen, but if they were captured, it would all be over. There was only one option left.
Merlin had prepared a teleportation spell—a failsafe—etched into the very foundations of the throne hall. If the enemy reached them, they would have one last chance to escape.
Now, it seemed they had no choice but to use it.
"Do it," King Harvin ordered.
Ridgen gave a nod and moved without hesitation. The spell would take a few minutes to activate. For now, no one had reached the castle yet, so they should have enough time.
Or so they thought.
-BOOOOM!
A deafening explosion rang out, shaking even the throne hall the castle. The walls trembled, chandeliers swayed precariously, and terrified screams filled the throne hall. Women clung to one another, their fear spilling into the open.
"What’s happening?!" Duke Rosenwalt barked, furrowing his brows.
Had the shockwave from the battle somehow reached them? Was the enemy already here?
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Ridgen wasted no time. He pulled out a small, shimmering sphere, and within seconds, it projected shifting images of the castle’s surroundings. His fingers flicked through the visuals, scanning desperately—until he found something.
Something that made his blood run cold.
The castle gates had been completely obliterated—reduced to little more than crumbling ruins.
And through the smoke and shattered stone, a single man strode forward.
He had smirk on his face as he walked inside. He was alone, yet even through the flickering video feed, Ridgen could tell—this was no ordinary enemy.
This was a monster.
"Damn it," Ridgen muttered under his breath before snapping into action. "I’ll buy time! Everyone, with me!"
The knights around him immediately obeyed, drawing their weapons as they prepared for battle. But before charging forward, Ridgen turned to Duke Rosenwalt, locking eyes with the man he was entrusting with the King’s safety.
"I leave His Majesty to you."
But the Duke shook his head. Instead of stepping back, he reached for his own weapon.
"No. I’m coming with you."
"F–Father?" Minerva’s voice trembled with shock. Even Diana’s eyes widened, disbelief flashing across her face.
Ridgen hesitated, looking at his old friend. The Duke wasn’t just saying this—he was serious. Deadly so.
"Are you sure?" Ridgen asked, glancing at Minerva and Diana. He had daughters after all.
"You won’t last long alone," the Duke replied with a small chuckle. "I’ll have to help you."
Minerva stepped forward immediately worried.
"Father, what are you saying?" Her voice wavered, the realization beginning to sink in.
He was going out there—to fight. To buy them time for the teleportation spell.
Which meant… he wasn’t coming with them.
"Minerva," her father spoke gently. "I am a Duke of Unadora. It is my duty to protect the King and our people."
"But Father!" Diana’s voice cracked as she stepped beside her sister, shaking her head in desperation. "W-Whether Unadora falls or not, we will take it back one day! And for that… for that, we need you!"
The Duke turned to his daughters, his expression softening. With a gentle smile, he reached out, resting a hand atop Diana’s head.
"Diana…" he spoke softly, ruffling her hair like he had so many times before. "How many times have I told you and Minerva about our duty? About the responsibilities we carry as nobles?" His eyes shone with quiet pride. "You are the future. Not me. My role was always to guide you, to prepare you, to pass on what must be protected." His gaze flickered between them, full of warmth. "You are my future. You are my pride. And your mother’s pride as well."
"F–Father…" Diana’s vision blurred with unshed tears but she still shook her head unable to accept it.
"You don’t have to be this worried," Duke Rosenwald said calmly. "I heard that in Britannia, Gevurah spared all high-ranking nobles. I’m just buying time—at worst, I’ll end up as their prisoner, that’s all." He offered a reassuring smile before adding with a chuckle, "I won’t be reckless, don’t worry. I still want to see my daughters’ weddings."
Minerva’s heart clenched as she stared at her father. She could tell it just by looking at her father. Nothing she or Diana said would change his mind—she knew that all too well.
Diana though couldn’t accept it.
"Father, no—"
But Minerva reached out, gripping her sister’s hand and shaking her head. "Diana."
"S-Sister, you can’t just accept this—!"
"Father is right." Minerva said shaking her head. Then, turning back to him, she whispered, "Just promise us... promise us you’ll come back alive."
Duke Rosenwald looked at his daughters, his gaze softening. "I promise," he said. "Both of you must go to Aurion. I’ve already arranged everything—Lord Griffin will take care of you if anything happens to me. Unadora will recover, and so will both of you. You’ll reclaim your rightful place, I’m sure of it."
Diana shook her head stubbornly, unwilling to accept such an outcome. But before she could protest further, their father gently patted her head one last time, then turned to Minerva.
"Take care of your sister for me, Minerva," he said with a knowing smile. "You know how she is."
Minerva swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes, Father..."
His hand lifted to her cheek, a gentle touch filled with unspoken emotion. "You look so much like your mother, Minerva..."
Her lips trembled, but she bit them quickly, refusing to let the tears spill.
The duke gave one final nod before stepping away, joining Ridgen and the others. Their mission was clear—hold back Mikhail long enough for the rest to escape.
Merlin had pinpointed the teleportation circle’s exit in Aurion, safely away from Unadora. It was their best option. There was no time to hesitate.
Duke Rosenwald, Ridgen, and a dozen of Unadora’s finest knights swiftly departed from the throne hall, their figures disappearing into the dim corridors beyond.
Meanwhile, those remaining worked quickly, following Merlin’s instructions to activate the spell. The air crackled with mana, and in mere moments, they would vanish from this place—leaving behind everything they once knew.
"Do you think we have a chance?" Duke Rosenwald asked as they stepped out of the castle.
"Honestly? No," Rigden replied without hesitation. As an S-Rank Hunter, he had faced countless battles, but something about this felt different—wrong.
"You still have time to turn back," Rigden added, casting Rosenwald a sidelong glance.
The duke chuckled. "You should worry about yourself first."
Rigden smirked, shaking his head. "If we survive this, let’s have a drink together."
Rosenwald let out a low laugh. "Yes. Let’s."
Their lighthearted exchange was nothing more than a fleeting attempt to mask their unease..
But then, the sound of footsteps echoed ahead.
They stopped.
A lone figure approached, hands tucked casually into his pockets.
Mikhail.
A slow, amused chuckle escaped the man’s lips. "Well, well… what a lively little crowd we have here."
The moment his voice reached them, Rigden, Rosenwald, and the knights all tensed—but it wasn’t just fear.
It was his Stigma.
A crushing pressure filled the space, weighing down on them like invisible chains. Their bodies locked up, breath caught in their throats. It was unlike anything they had ever encountered before. At that moment, they knew.
They had no chance.
"Hand over the King and his children," Mikhail said with a smile. "Kneel before Gevurah, embrace Seraphiel’s Faith, and I will spare you."
A strained silence followed.
Then, Rigden let out a chuckle—though it was shaky at best. "We will never hand over our King to invaders and murderers like you."
Mikhail’s grin widened. "Kukuku… That’s rich, coming from you." His amusement vanished in an instant.
-BAM!
Rosenwald’s eyes widened.
In the blink of an eye, Rigden—who had been standing right beside him—was gone. His body crashed against a stone pillar with bone-shattering force.
The knights reacted immediately, charging at Mikhail with swords raised.
But Mikhail was too fast.
With ease, Mikhail weaved through their strikes, slipping past them like a ghost.
-CRACK!
A snapping sound echoed as he reached out and grasped a knight’s throat. With a single snap, the man’s body went limp before collapsing to the ground.
Mikhail barely glanced at the fallen soldier before plucking the knight’s sword from his lifeless grip.
-BOOM!
A sudden gust of wind struck him from the left, sending him skidding across the stone pavement.
Mikhail’s gaze flickered in the direction of the attack.
There stood Rosenwald, his entire body surging with mana, its glow pulsing like fire beneath his skin.
"Ah… loyalty, huh?" Mikhail sneered, brushing dust from his shirt. "You throw your life away for a cowardly king who cowers on his throne."
Rosenwald’s expression remained cold. "My king is a far better ruler than you will ever be."
Mikhail’s eyes narrowed.
In the next instant, he vanished.
"…!"
Rosenwald’s instincts screamed, and without hesitation, he unleashed a powerful blade of wind he had been preparing. The invisible force slashed through the air, aiming to cut Mikhail down before he could strike.
But with a single swing of his sword, Mikhail dispersed the attack as if it were nothing more than a breeze.
Then, before Rosenwald could even raise his own blade, Mikhail was already upon him.
The sword’s edge flashed toward Rosenwald’s neck.
Time slowed.
The duke widened his eyes. There was no time to react.
But just as the killing blow was about to land—
At the last second, Mikhail’s stance shifted. His sword deflected something mid-air—a projectile aimed toward his head.
-BOOM!
The force of the impact sent sparks flying as the projectile shattered.
Mikhail’s cold gaze snapped toward the source of the attack.
There, standing on the crumbling stone pavement, was a woman with forest green hair, her bow drawn.