Even after being discovered, the young lovers in the sky remained unfazed. They didn't even spare a glance at the soldiers gathering below.
Several nearby camps were the first to react to Marius' urgent warning. Dozens of soldiers scrambled out of their tents, fully armed and ready for battle.
But as Marius took in the sight of swords and axes gleaming in their hands, he closed his eyes in frustration.
At a time like this… what use are those weapons?
Damn it. When we get back, I'm demanding more anti-air defenses.
"Ready, baby?"
"Of course. Let's do this."
Xayah and Rakan locked eyes affectionately, completely ignoring the soldiers amassing beneath them.
Then, with a graceful shift in body posture, they dove toward the ground like falcons zeroing in on prey.
Xayah flicked her wrist, summoning a handful of shimmering purple feathers. With a fluid spin, she sent them flying like deadly projectiles.
Meanwhile, Rakan simply floated to the side, landing lightly atop a nearby tent. From his perch, he watched Xayah's performance in silent admiration.
The razor-sharp feathers tore through the soldiers below, their armor offering no more resistance than paper.
As Xayah landed, the surviving soldiers raised their heavy weapons and charged at her.
When the ones in front fell, those behind them immediately stepped forward, pressing on relentlessly, like warriors prepared to die.
Realizing they were attempting to overwhelm her with sheer numbers, Xayah adjusted her tactics without hesitation.
Two broad, gleaming feathers appeared in her palms, their edges glowing faintly with a purple light. Before anyone could react, she flicked her wrists—
The feathers shot forward like high-caliber sniper rounds, piercing effortlessly through shields and the bodies of those behind them.
In an instant, two entire rows of soldiers were skewered, their corpses strung together like beads on a thread.
The feather-blades finally stopped, embedding themselves deep into the earth—silent, immovable markers of destruction.
Rather than being deterred by the carnage, the soldiers' fighting spirit only seemed to ignite further.
Even after witnessing the gruesome fate of their comrades, they didn't falter. If anything, they picked up their pace, charging at Xayah even faster.
"You really have no idea just how sharp feathers can be," Xayah murmured with a smirk.
With a graceful flick of her cape, a storm of hidden feather-blades unfurled, slicing through the ranks of soldiers like the scythe of death itself.
As they drew closer and closer to Xayah's position, more and more feathers lodged into the ground, forming a deadly minefield beneath their feet.
Marius, ever the tactician, sensed something was off.
"Watch out for the feathers on the ground!" he shouted.
A soldier closest to the front hesitated, his gaze snapping downward.
"Not bad… but it's too late!"
The soldiers, already caught up in the heat of battle, were too blinded by adrenaline to fully register the warning. Marius alone couldn't snap them out of their frenzy.
At that moment, reinforcements arrived.
Unlike the standard Ares familia soldiers, this group lacked uniformity.
They weren't like the previous bombing squad, either.
This was Ares' personal guard—his elite warriors, the strongest fighters in the entire familia.
They were like the imperial guards of ancient times, sworn to protect their ruler at all costs.
Each of them wielded their weapon of choice, but that wasn't all—they carried an assortment of bombs strapped to their left sides, while several magic swords of varying colors hung from their right.
Clearly, these were magic swords imbued with different elemental attributes.
Though the rear battalion lacked an abundance of supplies, it had more than enough to fully arm this elite squad.
At such a critical moment, Ares and his officers weren't concerned about conserving resources.
What's the point of saving them now?
If they held back any longer, those supplies would inevitably fall into enemy hands.
Better to use them all here and now—let the enemy pay the price.
The battle could be lost, but if anyone thought they could walk away from this unscathed, they were sorely mistaken.
There was no need for Marius to issue an order. The elite guards sprang into action immediately, charging toward Xayah.
Unlike the standard soldiers, their formation wasn't rigid, but their coordination was flawless.
Two warriors wielding axes and sledgehammers lunged at Xayah from the front, while a mage in the back had already begun chanting.
At the same time, two others unsheathed their magic swords, instantly channeling their energy.
They paid no mind to the strain on the magic swords—damage or depletion didn't matter. Their only goal was to take Xayah down.
A surge of multicolored magic erupted, converging toward her from all directions.
For the first time, Xayah's calm expression hardened into something more serious.
"Scattering Feathers."
She leaped into the air, her body seemingly freed from the pull of gravity.
The incoming blasts of magic swords tore through where she had been standing a moment before, striking nothing but empty space.
With a powerful flick of her cloak, she unleashed the remaining feather-blades at once, sending them slicing outward in every direction.
The elite guards fell like wheat cut down by a scythe.
But before the survivors could even breathe a sigh of relief, the feathers embedded in the ground suddenly stirred.
As if summoned by Xia's will, they shot back into the air—
Boomerangs of death.
Those who had narrowly escaped the first wave had no chance to dodge the second.
The razor-sharp barbs tore through the remaining warriors, cutting them down in an instant. Even the two closest to Xayah, who had managed to close the distance, met the same fate.
Now, only Xia remained standing amidst the carnage.
In the distance, the remaining elite guards froze as the wails of their dying comrades filled the air.
They had watched their strongest fall within moments, their corpses littering the battlefield.
"You… damned witch—!"
Overcome with fury, the remaining guards let out enraged roars.
One by one, they unsheathed their most prized weapons—long, intricately designed magic swords.
Even at a glance, it was clear these were no ordinary blades.
Xayah, having just unleashed her devastating attack, had no way to dodge the next assault.
Yet, she didn't look the least bit worried.
At that moment, Rakan, who had been observing from a distance, finally made his move.
With perfect timing, he sprang forward, his cloak billowing as he accelerated.
His steps, light and precise, almost resembled an elegant dance.
In a flash, he was upon them.