(Southern Border)
The wind howled across the open plains of the southern border, rustling the tall grass and whispering of war. A line of sleek black vehicles came to a halt just beyond the crest of a hill. Dust kicked up in clouds as the doors opened and heavy boots crunched the earth.
Commander Dion stepped out first, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon beneath his crimson-lined cloak. Three of the King's Guard, elite mages clad in obsidian tactical gear embroidered with the Snow royal crest, flanked him. Behind them, a two dozen palace-assigned combat mages formed ranks, each prepared for war.
Below the hill, gathered in a crooked formation that looked more like a waiting swarm than an army, stood no more than fifty mages. All wore dark, muted robes, void of emblems, alliances, or pride. They didn't speak. Didn't move.
Commander Dion narrowed his eyes. "These are all B-Class" He muttered, low enough only the nearest guard heard. "But there's no structure…no command" He took a cautious step forward, extending his senses, trying to feel the weave of magic in the air. It was too calm. Too quiet.
Then, Like a silent trigger had been pulled, chaos erupted.The Dark Mages raised their hands in unison, symbols flaring across their skin. Bolts of black fire and crimson energy screamed through the sky like missiles. Dion barked, "SHIELDS UP!"
A translucent dome burst around the royal group, deflecting the first wave. The battlefield exploded into color and sound.
The King's Guard moved like shadows, lethal, fast, and unnervingly calm.
Freya of the King's Guard, a pyrokinetic specialist, summoned twin sabers of flame and tore through a trio of Dark Mages, dancing between blasts with impossible agility. One enemy mage tried to catch her with a spike of ice, she spun, twisted midair, and melted the attack with a sweep of her blade, plunging the other through his chest. The way she moved you could tell she was an A-Class assassin mage.
One of the combat mages, whose power channeled gravitational compression, walked calmly through the battlefield, crushing enemies into the earth with the flick of his wrist. One Dark Mage screamed as his body was flattened by invisible force, his blood painting the ground in a sickening splatter.
Dean of the King's Guard, used illusion and precision. He blinked in and out of sight like a ghost, driving needles of hardened light into pressure points, paralyzing or killing with merciless efficiency. He was an assassin mage after all.
And at the center of it all stood Commander Dion. His aura expanded like a rising storm, blue lightning coursing along his arms, cracking the ground beneath his boots. With a single motion, he summoned a halberd of condensed plasma and launched himself into the fray.
A Dark Mage screamed and hurled a wave of corrosive magic. Dion sliced through it, the air splitting with a thunderclap as his weapon disintegrated the spell. He rammed the halberd through the attacker's chest, then spun, cleaving another in half.
"Hold the line!" He roared. "Push them back, don't give them room to breathe!" He commanded while still in his own thoughts about what was going on. 'This is merely a distraction' He realized.
One of the combat mages faltered as a curse wrapped around his ankle, yanking him into the air. Before the Dark Mage could finish the spell, The Commander hurled a bolt of lightning, striking the enemy with such force that the body burst midair like overripe fruit.
The sky darkened unnaturally, clouds swirling above the battlefield. More enemies surged forward, but they were disorganized, wild, desperate. As if this wasn't a planned assault but a suicide mission.
Shuri grunted as she slammed a group of three into the dirt, then turned to Dion. "This doesn't feel right. No formation, no leadership. It's like they just want to die"
Commander Dion ground his teeth. He noticed it too. These weren't soldiers, they were fanatics. B-Class mages, yes, but fighting with a madness that went beyond orders. They didn't retreat. They didn't fear death. "It's a distraction!" He replied. "Nevertheless we have to hold them back and hope the others can handle whatever it is they are distracting us from"
One mage burst into flames and screamed an incantation Dion hadn't heard in years, a forbidden hex. Dion's eyes widened. "DOWN!"
The mage detonated, incinerating friend and foe alike in a massive self-sacrificing blast. The shockwave flung bodies across the field. Dion stood his ground, planting his halberd deep into the earth and anchoring himself with raw force.
When the smoke cleared, a third of the Dark Mages lay dead. And still, the rest came. But the King's Guard, bloodied yet unbroken, did not waver.
Commander Dion's voice, hard and cold, echoed through the battlefield.
"They're trying to keep us busy. This isn't a war. It's a distraction"
Freya appeared beside him, breathing hard, blood spattered across her gear. "Then what are they stalling us for?"
***
(Northern Border)
A convoy of tactical armored vehicles came to a halt on a rocky overlook. Out stepped Miles, tall, a little skinny, with piercing eyes that never stopped scanning. Beside him walked Rayne Egan, quiet, black jacket fluttering in the cold wind, hands tucked in his pockets, his expression unreadable.
A group of combat mages, armed and ready, stood behind them in disciplined formation. But ahead, they saw it.Figures, dozens of them, emerged from the treeline like shadows melting into being. Dark Mages. At least sixty. But what caught every eye was the girl leading them.
She was smiling, her dark cloak fluttering around her like feathers in the wind, her silver hair glowing. A blade, slender, wicked, rested lazily on her shoulder. Her eyes, mismatched in color, green and grey, gleamed with amusement.
Phoenix. The White Sparrow.
Rayne's chest tightened. That mana, the pressure around her felt like it crushed the air itself. Her aura crackled like glass on fire. Miles raised a hand, signaling his team to halt. His gaze narrowed. "We hold the line. Let them come to us"
The Dark Mages continued forward until they stood face-to-face across the clearing. Then, with the smugness of someone on a stage, Phoenix stepped ahead of her crowd.She grinned. "Well, well…What do we have here? A pup, a shadow, and a dozen candles" She waved at Rayne. "You must be the cute one they call B-Class. You look like you bruise easily. I'm Phoenix, but you can call me the 'White Sparrow'"
Rayne didn't react. But Miles took a step forward, his voice a growl."You've crossed into our land. You won't be leaving"
Phoenix's smile widened. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm not here to leave. I'm here to play"
Without waiting for another word, Miles whose whole personality had changed into a serious, bloodlust one like it did before, barked,
"Engage! Combat mages, take the flanks! Rayne, on me!"
With a cry of fury, the combat mages surged forward, spells already firing, arrows of arcane light, barriers forming midair, elemental blasts ripping through the silence. The Dark Mages met them with equal fury, and the field burst into magic and chaos.
Meanwhile, Miles lunged forward, his body moving in a blur. His style was art in motion, spinning low, flipping midair, disappearing and reappearing in a blink with each step. A flash of blades in both hands, curved daggers imbued with shadow and wind. He twisted around Phoenix, slicing in an elegant dance, always fluid, always moving.
Phoenix laughed, deflecting each strike with her sword, long and straight, gleaming with an unnatural sheen. Her magic flared with each movement, bursts of raw force pushing Miles back, but he never stopped.
Rayne stood still for a beat, then sighed and joined the fray, reluctantly. He moved sluggishly at first, dodging wide, letting himself get thrown, slapped, kicked. He allowed Phoenix to toss him through the air, crash into trees, scrape across the ground. Smoke and sparks flew around him, but he kept his mana low, perfectly playing the part of a clumsy, overmatched B-Class mage.
But every time she turned to finish him, she left a tiny gap, and Miles was there, slicing with precision. Rayne, bruised, bloodied, gritted his teeth and mentally marked each of her weaknesses, not striking, just watching.
Phoenix, however, noticed something. She turned her attention briefly to Rayne, her brow twitching ever so slightly. "You…you're no ordinary candle" She vanished in a blink, teleportation magic, and reappeared behind him. Her sword slashed down. Rayne barely dodged, tumbling instead of blinking away, letting her blade slice through his jacket. He landed on his back, coughing.
"Stay focused!" Miles yelled at Rayne, slashing across her back, only for Phoenix to spin, block it with her hand encased in shimmering white magic, and retaliate with a pulse of energy that threw him twenty feet.
"Oops" She sang, spinning on her toes, blade humming. "Was that too hard?"
She blurred again, her movements unnatural, not teleportation, just speed. She flickered in and out of vision, striking from all angles. Miles fought like a tempest, flipping, sliding, using the terrain. He sliced upward from the ground, Phoenix leaned back, laughing as the dagger missed her throat by inches. She countered with a kick that launched him across the field.
Rayne crawled to his feet again. He'd lost count of how many times she threw him. His ribs ached. His shoulder felt like it was dislocated. Still, he didn't fight back. He was watching. Calculating. Waiting. Trying to figure out just how strong this 'White Sparrow' was.
Phoenix hovered over him now, sword at his throat.
"Why won't you fight back?" She whispered. "Why are you hiding?"
Rayne met her gaze.
"Because I'm a weak B-Class mage…"
She faltered. "A B-Class? That can't be right. I can sense your aura"
In that moment while she was distracted by Rayne, Miles, bloody and staggering, lunged again, but Phoenix caught on and caught him mid-air, her reaction time was on another level. She slammed him into the dirt with a sonic boom, and dragged her sword across his chest, sending blood spraying.
Rayne dove to intercept, but she kicked him in the gut, throwing him across the clearing once more.
The battlefield behind them still roared, magic flashing, bodies falling, but in their little corner, only silence remained. Phoenix stood over them both, breathing evenly, blade in hand. Her body glowed with residual magic, not a scratch on her.
She laughed, tossing her hair back.
"You two are fun. I almost broke a sweat"
Rayne lay on the ground, blood in his mouth, eyes narrowed, not in defeat, but in analysis. This wasn't her full powerr, not even close.
Phoenix twirled her sword, looking down at him.
"But you…something's wrong with you. I can feel it. You're hiding something…" Her grin widened into something feral.
"Why…are you…here?" Miles stuttered, groaning in pain whilst holding his rib, as he tries to sit up.
"I'm here to stall and distract you, silly" She smiled mischievously.
Rayne's eyes snapped open on hearing that. "Emeney!" He muttered, realizing what their plan might be.
***
(Main Border)
The evening was split in two, one half blazing with war cries, the other stilled by the oppressive aura that hung in the air like smoke before a storm. Emeney stood at the front line, her battle dress shining, shoulders squared, eyes unwavering. Behind her were four elite King's Guard, each cloaked in A-Class armor, and dozens of combat mages who glowed faintly with pre-battle mana.
Across the border clearing stood Neo. Tall. Cloaked in black. A gleam of something ancient in his eyes, cold, calculating. Around him, his army of Dark Mages, masked and cloaked, waited in stillness.
Neo took a step forward, voice smooth as silk, yet brimming with arrogance. "Princess Emeney Snow" He gave a slight bow. "Let's not ruin the evening with unnecessary bloodshed. Come with me. Quietly. Spare your people the pain"
The calm in his voice sent a ripple of unease through the mages behind her. But Emeney stepped forward, blade drawn from thin air, its glowing runes humming with life. Her voice rang out clear and fierce. "I don't kneel to cowards hiding behind black cloaks and mask. If you want me, come and get me."
A beat of silence. Then Neo smiled behind his mask. Everything exploded. Combat mages launched into action, spells flying across the air like comets. Ice walls rose. Fire dragons roared. Neo's army countered with black lightning, acidic mist, blood-red enchantments.
Amidst the chaos, Neo moved, straight toward Emeney. She met him in a flash of steel.
CLANG!
Their blades collided. The force of the clash cracked the earth beneath them. Sparks burst like stars. Emeney gritted her teeth. The man's strength was inhuman. His dark aura coiled around him like a living thing, pressing on her senses.He fought casually. Smooth. Elegant. Controlled.
She unleashed a flurry, high slash, low sweep, thrust. He dodged each one with a dancer's grace, almost amused.Then he struck. A sharp backhand with his hilt caught her across the face, CRACK. Blood burst from her lip. She staggered, blocked low, only for his boot to crash into her chest, THUMP!, sending her skidding across the battlefield.
She scrambled up, casting a rune with her left hand. Magic burst, flames spiraled toward him. Neo stepped through them untouched. Another swing, her blade met his again, and she tried a spinning feint, only for his palm to catch her wrist mid-motion. With a twist, he snapped her elbow, and she cried out, dropping her sword.
He didn't stop. He struck her ribs, knees, shoulder. Not with grace, but with raw, unflinching brutality. He moved like a weapon, not a man. She blasted lightning from her palm, he didn't even flinch. He hadn't used a single spell yet.
Her knees buckled. Her breathing ragged. She managed to summon a magic shield.
SMASH.
His punch shattered it like glass and launched her into a boulder. Her back hit stone with a sickening thud. Emeney collapsed to the ground, bleeding, arm hanging limp, ribs cracked, her vision blurring. She tried to lift herself again, but her body refused.
Neo walked toward her, eyes cool. He raised his hand to finish it…
"Your Highness!"
Two of the King's Guard, Theo and Shuri, charged in, blades drawn, faces lit with fury. They intercepted him mid-swing, Theo blocking high, Shuri slashing low. Their movements were flawless, honed from years of training together.
Neo was forced to take a step back, his eyes finally sharpening.
They attacked as one, Shuri danced in close, slicing in patterns of flame. Theo moved like a shadow, his sword glowing blue, aiming for pressure points and tendons.
Neo's eyes ignitedd, glowing blue. He shifted. Faster now. Parrying each strike, rotating around them like a storm. He grabbed Shuri's wrist mid-strike and flipped her over his shoulder into the dirt. Theo slashed downward, Neo ducked, swept his legs, and elbowed him mid-air before he hit the ground.
But they rose again. Shuri unleashed twin elemental blasts while Theo cast a blink-spell, appearing behind Neo for a surprise strike.
He was ready, and faster. He spun, caught Theo's blade with his own, shoved him backward, and blasted a gust of raw energy that tore through Shuri's chest armor, sending her flying.
Still, they came again. Still, he fought. Only now, he was trying. Neo's blade flickered, CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!, countering every swing. His boots never stayed long in one place, his cape slicing air with every motion. He dodged close attacks by centimeters, retaliated with punishing kicks and lightning-fast jabs.
And then, he broke them.
Theo's leg buckled with a scream as Neo slammed his boot on the knee sideways, CRACK. Shuri's sword arm bent backward at the elbow, POP. Within seconds, both elite guards were on the ground, gasping, bleeding, armor in shambles.
Neo stood over them. Barely sweating. Only a few scratches on his cheek and collar. Emeney groaned softly behind him, trying and failing to crawl away. Neo turned, walked to her, bent down and grabbed her by the front of her top, dragging her limp form up. She moaned, her body too broken to resist. He slung her over his shoulder like a bag of cloth.
Then, calmly, he raised his wrist to his lips, magic pulsed across a hidden rune etched into his bracer. His voice was calm, quiet, and final. "I've got the Princess"
A pulse of mana sent the message through the air to Phoenix.
Neo looked over the battlefield, smoke, fire, bodies. Both sides ravaged. He turned away. Took three slow, deliberate steps forward, and vanished into thin air, taking the Princess with him.