In the following semester, Bastion enrolled in classes focused on increasing his elemental arts. Specifically, he aimed to raise Fire Magic, Water Magic, Dark Magic, and Wind Magic to level 3.
As with his close combat arts, all he needed was additional knowledge and some practice to become familiar with each element before they reached the maximum level for his current rank.
To that end, he signed up for Fire, Water, Dark, and Wind Mastery. Magic classes designed for sorcerers, emphasizing intuitive control rather than the mathematical precision favored by wizards.
In Fire Mastery, Bastion learned that fire is not something to be strictly controlled. It resists being molded into rigid shapes and prefers to exist in a natural, untamed state. Rather than imagining a fireball or fixed form, he was taught to summon pure flame into his palm, free of structure or constraint. The key was not in shaping the fire, but in guiding its behavior through intent. Fire responds best to a caster's will, not to detailed commands.
Instead of forcing specific movements or shapes, Bastion learned to simply imagine the outcome he wanted. Whether it was to burn, spread, or explode, the fire would follow the direction naturally if he focused on the effect rather than the means. This approach made fire feel like a wild creature that follows when led but resists when pushed. In time, he found himself more attuned to the element by releasing control rather than clinging to it.
Water Mastery taught the opposite philosophy. Water required precision. Without clear and exact commands, it would follow its nature and flow freely, often ignoring the caster's intent. Bastion discovered that to control water, he had to define its shape, its movement, and the outcome in full detail. The more exact the spell, the better the water behaved.
Water was not meant to sit still or take shape like stone. It needed to be guided with smooth and continuous thought, mimicking the flow of streams and rivers. Every moment required intention. Break the focus, and the spell would collapse. Bastion came to understand that water thrives under disciplined control, rewarding those who gave it thoughtful structure and a clear path to follow.
Wind shared fire's resistance to control but offered a different kind of obedience. Bastion learned that wind reacts better to pressure and direction than to form. He did not need to imagine gusts of wind swirling through the air. Instead, he simply needed to envision force and motion itself. The wind would follow naturally, as if invisible hands were moving the air around him.
This approach was less intuitive, but more effective. Rather than imagining wind as a thing, he focused on the feeling of movement, as though space itself were being pushed or pulled. Wind responded to that intent with surprising speed and precision. It cared little for shape but followed momentum and direction eagerly. The more Bastion embraced that fluidity, the more capable he became.
Dark Mastery challenged Bastion's assumptions most of all. Darkness did not flourish in the absence of light, as many believed. True dark magic required contrast. In total blackness, there was nothing to summon or shape. But where light existed, so too did shadow, and in those shadows, darkness could be found and used. The magic was not summoned from nothing but drawn from what already lingered in the corners of the world.
Rather than willing darkness into being, Bastion learned to find and extend the shadows around him. In this way, he could stretch their reach, solidify their presence, and use them as weapons or shields. Shadows became tools. Light was not the enemy but the enabler. Darkness lived in the contrast, and by embracing that balance, he gained far more control over it than he ever thought possible.
Midway through the 2nd semester of their 4th year, dark clouds gathered over the Royal Academy. A storm was brewing, casting long shadows across the grounds and cloaking the skies in deep gloom.
"I think this is it," Seraphina said during Wind Mastery class, sitting beside Bastion as she looked out the window at the darkened sky.
"You mean the Demon Lord? Seems a bit soon, doesn't it?" Bastion replied, his eyes narrowing.
"This was the exact scene when the academy was overrun with demons. It shouldn't be possible, but whoever's left from the demon worshipers must have pulled it off again."
"What do you want to do?"
"Gather the others and bring Aurelia to the dungeon grounds. She'll know what to do when the time comes. I'll get ready as well."
"Do you need someone to come with you, just in case?"
"I'll be fine," Seraphina said, already standing to leave.
She ignored the professor's curious glance as she headed toward the door. Then, just as she reached it, she paused and glanced back shyly at Bastion.
"Maybe send Elyra to my room. Just in case."
"Just in case," Bastion echoed with a small, appreciative smile.
Seraphina was learning to rely on others instead of always going off on her own. Bastion was glad for the change. It showed how much she had begun to trust in others, and it eased his worries significantly.
Bastion summoned Zephy to send messages to the others, then left the class soon after.
Among their two groups, Aurelia, Tobin, Cyrus, and Lilia all had familiars, which made communication easy. Only Emberlyn and Elyra lacked one.
Fortunately, Elyra should be at the Training Grounds for her classes around this time. That only left Emberlyn, who could be reached through Cyrus's phoenix.
"I should get a Summon Familiar skill book for Elyra too," Bastion thought. "Not being able to contact her immediately like this is a problem."
Bastion made his way to the Training Grounds and quickly spotted Elyra.
"It's happening," he said firmly. "Go to Seraphina's room and stay with her. Keep her safe."
"Yes, Master," Elyra replied without hesitation before sprinting toward the east wing of the castle.
Bastion meanwhile continued to head north between the Training Grounds and the Dungeons where he had asked the others to meet.
-----
Meanwhile, far to the northwest of the academy, a forbidden ritual reached its dreadful conclusion. Dark glyphs burned into the ground pulsed with sickly light as the final incantation was spoken. With a deafening crack, space tore open, revealing a swirling abyss of shadows and flame.
From within the portal, corrupted mana flooded into the atmosphere, turning the air thick with malice. The stench of sulfur and decay spread like a disease.
Then came the first claw, tearing through the veil. Then its maw, wide and menacing. At last, the first demon hauled itself through the portal, followed by another, and then countless more.
A horde of demons surged forth, shrieking and howling as they spilled into the world. They crawled like beasts through the portal before breaking into a sprint. All of them were drawn to one thing, the immense concentration of life force nearby.
The Royal Academy stood like a beacon.
And the demons began their surge.
-----
In the headmaster's office, Headmaster Virion Silvarien watched the dark clouds gathering in the northwest with a growing sense of unease. The mana in the air was being pulled in that direction, rippling unnaturally across the land. This was not a good sign.
He extended a hand and summoned a Wisp, its glow faint against the stormlight filtering through the windows. With a sharp breath, he gave his orders.
"Contact Commander Stride. Tell him to pull all his troops from the dungeons and send them northwest of the academy. Inform him we may be facing a demon horde. Then alert the professors and begin evacuating the academy. Head southeast along the mountain pass."
The Wisp vanished at once, leaving the room dim and heavy.
Virion remained at the window, his expression grim.
He had known the Demon Lord would eventually be unsealed. That much was inevitable. And with him, the remnants of his cult would surely rise again. But the worst part was the Goddess's decree, stand down and let fate take its course. Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.
He sighed heavily before reaching into his storage chest, pulling out potions, scrolls, accessories, and various gadgets. It was his usual loadout for combat. He was getting ready for war.
"I'm too old for this," he said with a heavy sigh. "Maybe it's time I finally reach Rank 3 and head east. Be a student again."
-----
At the dungeon grounds north of the academy, just past the training fields where numerous dungeon entrances stood like ancient doorways to other realms, Commander Stride had just received the Wisp's message from the Headmaster. A gleeful grin spread across his face.
"Gather the men. We're going to war!" he shouted, sending his attendants scrambling to activate the communication device.
In less than ten minutes, the troops had assembled and began marching northwest, forming a defensive line between the academy and the oncoming horde. There were only around two hundred soldiers, but each one was at least Rank 1.
A dozen Rank 2s led the formation, moving with discipline and purpose. At the very front stood Commander Stride, the strongest among them, his eyes gleaming with anticipation as he prepared to face the threat head-on.
This was a rare opportunity to gain enough experience to reach the next rank, so it was no surprise that the soldiers, the captains, and the commander himself were eager for battle.
As they marched, the soldiers spread their formation, pressing forward to cover as much of the academy as possible. With only 200 of them, their role was likely limited to buying time and reducing the initial impact.
"Demon horde incoming," shouted an archer from within the formation.
From the treeline northwest of their position, the enemy finally appeared. Demons of all kinds came charging with wild abandon, their shrieks echoing through the forest.
And so the storm began.
-----
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