The group had each taken up their assigned positions.
High above, Su Yan hovered about five kilometers in the air, his sharp gaze scanning the sprawling city and the approaching battlefield beyond. From this vantage point, he observed every movement, ready to send warnings or call out commands at a moment's notice.
Within the city's bustling streets, Zeref and August melded effortlessly into the crowd. Their presence was subtle but vigilant as they moved with practiced ease, eyes alert for any civilian caught in the crossfire or mercenary agents planting ambushes. Their goal was to shield the innocent from harm, preserving order amid the chaos that was about to unfold.
Mavis, cloaked in layers of shimmering illusionary magic, floated gracefully at a midpoint between the city and the Wolf Head Mercenary Group's base. Her ethereal form flickered like a mirage, masking her true position while allowing her to relay tactical information and distort enemy perceptions. Her mind raced, anticipating their every move.
On the frontline, Bulat and Lione called upon the power of their bracelets. In unison, they uttered the words Eternal Transform, and their battle suits materialized—the green rhino armor encasing Bulat with its imposing strength, and the golden yellow lion armor adorning Lione, radiating fierce energy. Marching side by side, they advanced steadily toward the mercenary stronghold, a thunderous presence feeling the pulse of the earth and wild instinct.
Meanwhile, Sheele moved like a shadow herself. After whispering Eternal Transformation, her icy armor shimmered into being, providing both protection and agility. Using Bulat and Lione's forward momentum and presence as cover, she slipped into darker alleys and shadowed corners near the base, a silent assassin poised to strike from within the folds of darkness. From his lofty vantage point, Su Yan's voice echoed softly through their mental link, calm but urgent. "Positions confirmed. Bulat, Lione, Sheele, stay sharp. I'll alert you if enemy reinforcements approach."
Zeref's steady voice replied from the city streets. "Civilians are steady so far. I'm routing some stray patrols away from the fight zone."
August's tone was measured but resolute. "I'm monitoring key choke points. If anything shifts, I'll call it out immediately."
Mavis's voice came next, laced with quiet confidence. "Illusions are layered. Enemies will see what we want them to see. Keep your focus."
Lione's fierce tone cut in, a spark of excitement behind it. "Ready to tear through their lines. Just give the word."
Bulat's deep voice rumbled. "Steady as the earth. Let's make this quick."
Sheele's whisper was like a breath of cold wind. "I'm in position inside the shadows. Waiting for the right moment." High above, five kilometers in the air, Su Yan's eyes swept over the enemy camp. Every detail registered—guards patrolling sun-baked walls, tents flapping in the desert wind, and scattered watchtowers manned by alert sentries. Calm and measured, Su Yan's voice pierced the group's mental link.
"Bulat, Lione, move on the northern gate and break their defenses swiftly. Sheele, approach silently from the eastern ridge. Disable their sentries quietly and sabotage their command."
At the desert's edge, Bulat's green battle suit shimmered to life; the rhino-themed armor granted him an intimidating presence. Planting his feet firmly, he raised the Chaos Hammer, and with a resonant crash, slammed it into the heavy wooden gate reinforced with metal bands. The impact rippled through the ground, dust rising in a wide plume as the gate groaned and cracked under the assault.
Lione followed immediately, her yellow battle armor gleaming under the harsh sun. Her Jungle Claws flashed in swift, ruthless arcs as she charged, slicing through the scattered mercenary guards taken by surprise. Their rough cries echoed but were quickly overwhelmed by her savage fury.
Far enough from the town to keep it safe, the townspeople went about their morning routines, only casting cautious, distant glances toward the mercenary base. The battle there had yet to spill over into their lives; no panicked cries or alarms disturbed their day.
Near the base's eastern ridge, Sheele moved like a shadow against the rocky outcroppings. Her icy armor sparkled faintly in the light. Two sentries patrolled, weapons resting but eyes sharp—until Sheele's Blizzard Dagger flashed swiftly. A whispered incantation of Frozen Stasis sealed their fate as they froze solid, caught unaware by the assassin's deadly strike.
From a position halfway between the desert plain and the town, Mavis hovered, barely visible under layers of illusionary magic. Her subtle enchantments twisted the enemy's perception, conjuring fleeting images of phantom reinforcements appearing at random points, while real paths seemed blocked by impossible barriers of shifting sand and rock. The mercenaries' formation faltered as confusion spread without cause.
Inside the town, Zeref and August patrolled quietly, alert for any signs of stray enemy scouts or deserters attempting stealthy ingress. Their presence was calm, assuring the residents that no danger would be allowed to breach the town's perimeter.
Smoke from the shattered gate billowed as Bulat pressed forward, hammer in hand, sending localized tremors through the earth with each strike—only the mercenaries staggered under the Earthquake Smash's force; the nearby town and its people remained untouched and unaware of the violent tremors.
Lione snarled as her claws tore through armor and flesh, cutting a bloody swath through enemies scrambling to regroup.
Su Yan's voice reinforced the strategy, steady and clear: "Bulat, maintain pressure. Lione, disrupt their formations. Sheele, target their leaders. August and Zeref, continue surveillance and secure approaches. Mavis, keep illusions active to delay their recovery."
The mercenaries, thrown into disarray, shouted orders over the rising dust and confusion. Their battle-hardened instinct fought to steady their faltering defense, but the swift, coordinated strike left them reeling.
The battle had begun—fierce, methodical, and precise—far from the town that slept peacefully beyond the desert's reach.
The desert sun beat down mercilessly as chaos erupted at the Wolf Head Mercenary Group's outpost. Bulat's hammer thundered again, shaking the northern gate until it buckled. Lione, beside him, blazed ahead—her Jungle Claws slashing through any enemy that rushed to block their advance.
Bulat felt the ground tremble beneath his boots with every blow. He relished the raw sensation of power as each swing of his Chaos Hammer made enemies scatter in terror. Behind his helm, a steady, almost meditative calm centered him—even amidst the violence—guiding his every movement.
When a battered mercenary lunged with a spear, Bulat deflected it effortlessly and drove the man back with a precise, earthquaking smash. "Lione, the left side—go!" he called, trusting his partner's speed.
Lione's blood raced as her lion-themed armor surged with battle energy. Hearing Bulat's call, she broke off to the left, tearing through a cluster of foes who panicked at her feral approach. She reveled in the fury—the dance of her claws, the shouts and the spray of sand.
Inside the mental link: "Sheele, move in. Their flank's open."
Gliding from shadow to shadow at the eastern ridge, Sheele felt invisible in her icy armor. The shouts of confused guards barely reached her ears as she slipped into a supply tent, dispatching the commander within before he could even stand. The Frozen Stasis ability activated with a whisper, sealing him in a frost prison.
Her mind remained clear: efficient, silent, unflinching. "Commander eliminated. Moving to the next target," she whispered into the mental link.
Su Yan's voice, ever calm and omnipresent, orchestrated the flow:
"Lione, keep circling—split their formation. Bulat, support Sheele's advance with another shockwave."
"Zeref, August—report status?"
From the dunes at the base perimeter, Zeref watched the battlefield with a tactician's eye and a heavy heart. He relayed: "No enemy scouts near the town. All civilians secure. Continue pressure; I'll cut off reinforcements if they appear."
August, hidden near a rocky outcropping, eyes bright beneath his hood, took a quick tally of enemy movement—spotting a squad trying to flank the main team. He quietly relayed: "Left side, four enemies approaching. I'll intercept." Slipping from cover, August darted forward to block their advance, spells at the ready.
Floating with soft magical energy at the halfway point, Mavis concentrated on weaving stronger illusions, making it appear as though allied forces were converging from multiple angles. Mercenary shouts grew more desperate as they fired blindly at ghosts.
"You're giving them quite a scare, Lione," she teased into the link, voice cheerful even as chaos swirled around her illusions.
The coordinated strike worked. The mercenaries, battered and bewildered, fell back toward the center of their camp, their ranks in disarray. Some called for the release of hidden weapons or backup teams, but Mavis's illusions kept them off-guard, and Sheele's assassinations shattered their command structure.