Richard assessed his enemies quickly, a chill running down his spine. Before them stood a formidable force: the leader, a Magister-Delta Warrior with an Earth affinity, commanded respect with his mere presence. Beside him, a Fire Magister Warrior, two Lord-Gamma Warriors capable of manipulating wind, and a Lord-Beta controlling shadows completed the enemy elite. Six Lord swordsmen and four Lord-Beta mages formed the rear guard, ready to strike without mercy.
Richard's position was far from enviable. At his side were Edward, a Lord-Delta with mastery over ice, two Lord-Gamma Warriors, three Lord-Alpha Warriors, and three Lord-Beta mages specialized in Water and Wind. At the center of the group stood Prince Andrew: a Delta Legionnaire, weak in physical combat but possessing extraordinarily pure mana.
The numbers were not in the crown's favor, and Richard knew it. Every second counted; every movement had to be measured to the millimeter if they hoped to survive this battle.
Finally, a figure emerged from the forest mist. Its dark presence seemed to devour the light around it.
—Names are unnecessary, —said the leader, a Magister-Delta whose Earth mana made the ground tremble—. Hand over the prince, and the rest will live.
Richard gritted his teeth.
—You'll have to get through all of us to do that, damn you.
The man smiled, calm and cruel.
—That can be arranged.
Tension snapped like a fraying rope.
Andrew's guards formed a protective circle: shields up front, mages in the rear, weapons ready. Richard activated a small communication device that emitted a blue flash—the signal for the royal squads.
The air reeked of metal, sweat, and compressed mana.
—Attack! —the enemy leader ordered.
The attacking Magister-Delta surged forward with devastating speed. Swords clashed with the defenders with a force that would have disarmed anyone of lower rank. Andrew's mages' magical barrier held for only seconds before fracturing under the Earth-reinforced strikes of the leader.
The defensive line wavered.
Richard intercepted the enemy Magister; their blades collided with a thunderous clang that made the trees shudder. Edward, on the right flank, froze the ground to slow the two Lord-Gamma Warriors moving with the speed of wind.
But the attackers were prepared. They knew the prince's guard formation. They knew where to strike.
The enemy mages unleashed darkness spells that clouded reflexes and willpower; two swordsmen attempted to break the formation simultaneously. Andrew's group began to falter.
Amid the chaos, Andrew struggled to breathe. Each electric discharge demanded more than his body could endure, yet he refused to stop.
In barely two fierce minutes, the ground was scarred with blood and magical craters. Five of the prince's Lord-class warriors fell. Three attackers lay dead or gravely wounded.
The defensive barrier finally shattered with a roar, splintering into blue sparks.
Two of Andrew's mages, trembling from exhaustion, cast a combined pressurized water spell that hurled two enemies against the trees. Andrew seized the lingering moisture in the air and, with a shout of effort, unleashed a lightning strike that incinerated a third attacker.
Edward dropped to his knees, gasping, on the verge of collapse.
The enemy leader raised a hand, halting the offensive. He too was assessing the risk. He walked toward Richard, calm and confident.
—Surrender, —he said in an almost gentle voice—. No one will come. Everything has been calculated for the prince to die today. And if you step aside, Bourlance… I'll respect your life.
Richard glared at him with raw fury, his face smeared with sweat and blood.
—If I abandon my lord, I cease to be a knight. What value would my name have?
The leader regarded him with a mix of mockery and twisted respect.
—Then I will give you a quick death.
Richard moved forward, intercepting him before he could reach the prince. Edward confronted the second Magister with the last of his strength.
Richard barely had time to shout to Andrew between two sword clashes:
—Your affinity gives you an advantage—use it!
No further explanation was needed. Andrew understood instantly: his Delta affinity, though modest, consumed less mana than most. That margin could mean the difference between life and death.
The enemy leader, an Earth-affinity Delta, moved with terrifying force, reinforcing his body until it was nearly impervious.
Without a word, he raised his hand:
—Finish them!
Flames clashed against walls of ice; gusts of wind sliced through the trees like paper. Richard formed a spinning water wall to deflect a rain of magical blades. Edward fired ice spears at point-blank range, blocking three enemies, but his breathing faltered.
—Damn… they knew we'd come this way, —Richard muttered, realizing the attackers aimed to split the defenders and break the formation.
The battle became desperate. Each knight faced two enemies. The mages reinforced the combined elemental barrier, but the enemy leader managed to crack it with a single blow. Richard sensed the danger: if the barrier fell, the prince would die.
For two hellish minutes, the forest lit up with flashes of fire and lightning. Five of the prince's knights fell. Three attackers were taken down.
Then one of the enemy mages finally broke the defensive formation. The instant the barrier shattered, two exhausted mages of Andrew channeled their remaining mana into one final combined water spell, hurling several enemies through the air.
Andrew raised his hand.
—Punishing Bolt!
A lightning bolt descended from the sky, amplified by the damp ground, striking down a Lord-class enemy. The impact shook the terrain.
The situation was dire. Prince Andrew understood this could be his last day when he saw Edward on his knees, chest pierced by a spear of fire. Richard could barely stand.
Just as the scenario had surpassed any hope of salvation and the assassin advanced toward the prince, sword raised to deliver the final blow…