Storm Queen City.
A place where wind and storms fuel the magical energy of a powerful artifact. As the capital of the Storm Region in the western reaches of the Kingdom of Stornia, it is a city where adventurers are guided by the blowing winds.
It is also the home base of the Knightley Queen—the royal knight squad that leads the Storm Region and serves on the front lines for the Kingdom of Stornia.
Windmills dot the city, serving as an unofficial symbol of the region; they spin whenever the wind blows, often signaling something to the local populace.
That signal could be a warning that the very storm serving as their primary source of power is bearing down upon them.
High above, a windmill mounted on a tall building spins ceaselessly. Yet, on the ground, the situation is far more chaotic than anyone could have imagined.
The situation spiraled out of control an hour ago.
Knights clad in steel armor, armed with swords and spears, have been deployed to secure the Knightley Queen headquarters after a single intruder managed to breach its defenses.
Just one person. A lone individual broke into the Knightley Queen headquarters and shattered the knights' defensive lines. They remain unsure of the true number of intruders, suspecting that others might be aiding this single individual.
It all began about an hour ago, under the scorching sun.
A deafening explosion rocked the area in front of the building; billowing white smoke rose from the ground, obscuring the vision of everyone present.
Boom!
The smoke blanketed the surroundings, creating an advantage for anyone skilled in fighting amidst the haze. The knights grew frustrated by the fog; they could not see their comrades or even what lay directly before their eyes.
The knights were forced to rely solely on their hearing and the sound of their own voices. However, relying on hearing alone would not be enough. After all, any word spoken aloud would inevitably be heard by everyone—including the enemy.
"Stay alert! Don't let that person shatter our defenses!"
That was why they were somewhat disoriented, armed with nothing but a single weapon—gripped tightly, yet trembling in their hands.
One of the knights held his weapon defensively, his eyes darting about, scanning for enemies. Yet, his vision remained blurred.
All they could see was the white smoke beginning to dissipate. But just as it seemed the encounter was over, electrical energy surged along a spear shaft; before him stood the silhouette of a man wielding the weapon.
"....?"
Before he could react, the silhouette lunged forward.
"?!"
Moving as if by teleportation, the man struck, driving his spear tip straight into the knight's abdomen. The sharp point pierced through; the knight's breath was instantly cut off, and he coughed, a trickle of blood appearing at the corner of his mouth.
"Guh!"
The silhouette withdrew the spear, leaving a gaping hole in the knight's stomach. Blood sprayed outward and dripped ceaselessly, soaking the dusty ground until it formed a pool of deep crimson.
"Ack...!"
His body collapsed to the ground. Without a moment's hesitation, the man charged at the remaining knights still shrouded in the smoke. He wielded his spear with masterful skill—thrusting, slashing, and even kicking the Knightley Queen knights.
Nothing could be heard but their startled cries.
The silhouette leaped high into the air, raising his spear and spinning it like a windmill. The tip glowed faintly, emitting a dim red magical energy. As gravity pulled him back down, he unleashed a strike upon the last remaining knight.
"I'll end this," he whispered—softly, yet lethally.
The blade slashed across the knight's steel armor, carving a massive gouge into the metal. The blow was powerful enough to shatter the armor entirely, leaving the knight with no hope of survival.
"Wa—!" The attack also unleashed a gust of wind that swept through the area, dispersing the white smoke billowing in the air.
Several knights arrived just then, shocked by the aftermath of the fierce battle that had taken place. Yet, it hardly resembled a fair fight; it was more akin to a massacre.
"What is the meaning of this...?!"
Knights from the Knightley Queen had fallen one by one; their bodies lay lifeless and helpless upon the blood-stained ground.
"Who could have done something so cruel...?!"
Their gaze then fell upon a lone figure still standing; at first, they mistook him for a surviving knight... but they were wrong.
"Hey, are you alright?"
"Wait... He isn't one of us."
"What?"
The man stood there, his knee-high black boot resting upon the body of the fallen.
As he stepped forward and came to a halt, the long coat draped loosely over his shoulders swayed gently. It remained secure even against the strong wind, held in place by a silver brooch engraved with the emblem of the Kingdom of Desorder.
Beneath the coat, a neat blue vest complemented a high-collared uniform cinched by a black belt. He wore black gloves on both hands, cream-colored trousers, and knee-high black boots. A strap was fastened around his right thigh, and he carried an unusual spear.
His hair was neatly styled in black and red waves; he had a fair complexion and cold, calm red eyes.
He then spoke to the knights who had just arrived.
"I'm fine; thanks for asking." His tone was casual, yet it created an unsettling atmosphere.
A knight, his anger ignited, glared at the man who stood there so nonchalantly after having taken the lives of other knights without a shred of remorse.
"How dare you take the life of another Nephilim! Do you have no morals, huh?!"
He dismissed the knight's words and countered with a question, his gaze remaining calm.
"It was a break-in, after all. What's wrong with fighting back when I'm attacked?"
Those listening were instantly shocked, as if they hadn't expected such a reply.
"What?!"
"Enough talk; I'll be leaving now..." he said abruptly.
Their angry expressions instantly shifted to confusion. Yet, before they could say a word, he continued in that same casual tone.
"...Provided you hand over the valuable item you keep in this office."
That statement shocked them all over again. This time, it wasn't just because of his audacity, but because he was brazenly demanding a valuable object after having broken into their headquarters.
"What...?"
"A valuable item...?" The knights were left bewildered, wondering what object he could possibly mean.
"You have it, don't you?" he asked again.
"What valuable item are you talking about, huh? We don't have—"
"The Staff of Miracle," the man said. They were all taken aback, completely caught off guard. "....?!"
"Hand it over to me, and I shall depart peacefully."
Hearing the stranger's demand made the knights even more wary, and they viewed him as a threat. Then, one of them voiced a solemn vow.
"The Staff of Miracle is a sacred relic belonging to the Knightley Queen! We swear never to surrender it to anyone!"
"You included, you bastard!"
"In the Order of the Storm, we won't let you pass!"
The man had no choice but to accept the reality of the situation; ideally, he would rather not have to take the knights' lives. Yet, matters had only grown worse. He let out a long sigh before speaking.
"Haa... It seems things won't go smoothly," he said, fixing them with a cold, murderous stare. The knights trembled, though they tried to hold their ground. "In that case, I'll take it with my own hands."
He began to twirl his spear and stepped forward. With every step he took, the Knightley Queen stood to lose the precious object they had guarded for years.