Chapter 363: Formation
The tension on the deck was broken by the heavy creak of armored boots against the wooden planks. Heads turned as a tall, imposing man stepped into view, his mere presence commanding silence. His armor bore the insignia of the Thaddeus Family—a golden trident crossed with a sword—emblazoned prominently on the breastplate. It gleamed with a practiced shine, though faint scars etched into the metal hinted at battles past. His face, much like his armor, carried the marks of experience—stern, cold, and lined with faint reminders of the dangers he had faced.
"Attention," the man called out, his voice cutting through the murmurs like a blade. It wasn't loud, but it carried a weight that left no room for disobedience.
The crew and gathered adventurers straightened instinctively. Even the seasoned mercenaries paused in their conversations, their gazes snapping toward the new arrival.
"I am Captain Eryndor Vale," he began, his tone measured but firm. "I will be leading the fourth station's forces for this operation. Our mission is simple but not without peril. The monsters infesting the sea trading routes threaten the Duchy's commerce and stability. It is our duty to eradicate this threat and defend the city from the coming waves."
He paused, his eyes scanning the crowd. Lucavion caught the subtle flicker of appraisal in those cold eyes as they swept over the assembled warriors. It wasn't unlike the way Lucavion himself had assessed the crowd earlier—a search for weakness, strength, and potential.
Eryndor continued, his voice steady. "As you have been briefed, our mages will construct stable platforms on the water's surface. These platforms will serve as our battlegrounds. They will allow us to engage the monsters on equal footing while minimizing the risk of capsizing our vessels. The city's defense will rely heavily on your coordination and discipline."
A murmur rippled through the crowd, though none dared interrupt outright. The captain's demeanor left little room for frivolity.
One adventurer, younger than most and clearly new to this level of danger, raised his hand hesitantly. "Captain… how are we supposed to make the monsters come to us? Aren't they just… out there in the sea? Won't they avoid us if we're standing on these platforms?"
Captain Eryndor's cold gaze fixed on the man, and for a moment, silence stretched unbearably. Then, with a faint, humorless smirk, he replied.
"You misunderstand your role here," he said, his tone cutting. "The monsters will come to you because you are their bait. That is what it means to be an adventurer, a soldier, or a mercenary in the service of the Duchy. You signed on for this. You knew the risks."
The bluntness of his words sent a ripple of unease through the adventurers, though none could argue with the truth of them. The young man who had spoken seemed to shrink slightly, his question dissipating under the weight of the captain's answer.
Eryndor's gaze swept the deck once more, his voice rising slightly to recapture the room. "Every one of you was chosen for this mission because of your skill, your experience, and your willingness to face the unknown. This is not a simple hunt—it is a battle for survival and prosperity. If any among you doubts your resolve, I suggest you leave now."
No one moved.
Satisfied, the captain nodded sharply. "Good. We will set sail in one hour. Let's first talk about our formation."
Captain Eryndor's gaze lingered on the silent crowd for a moment longer before he continued. "Since this is a quickly assembled team, it would be foolish to expect you to function as a fully trained unit. That said, I will provide a basic overview of the formation. Coordination is optional—survival is not."
He gestured to a map pinned to a board near the center of the deck. The crude diagram depicted the positions of the platforms that would be created by the mages and the ships that would act as bases for support and resupply.
"There are three mages assigned to this station. Given their limited number, they will be evenly distributed across the formation to ensure stability. Each platform will serve as a focal point for battle, and the fighters will be responsible for holding the monsters at bay while the mages maintain the constructs. Do not let the platforms collapse. If they do, you will be swimming in a sea filled with creatures eager to drag you under."
The adventurers and mercenaries exchanged uneasy glances but remained silent.
"Fighters will be assigned to positions based on their apparent capabilities and preferences. Those who wish to work together as a unit, speak up now." His sharp eyes scanned the group, waiting.
A handful of mercenary groups stepped forward, their leaders quietly discussing arrangements with the captain. Eryndor nodded as he made swift decisions, assigning these groups to positions where their cohesion would prove most effective. His efficiency left no room for argument.
"For the rest of you," he said, turning his attention back to the crowd, "your roles will be assigned based on observed skill and ranking. Once the platforms are deployed, follow the guidelines provided, but ultimately, fight to survive."
He gestured to one of his aides, who handed him a list. Eryndor began calling names and assigning positions, his voice carrying clearly over the deck.
Finally, he reached Lucavion. "Luca," he said, his tone neutral as he read the name from the list. "You're D-rank, so I'll place you toward the center of the formation. You'll have support from both flanks, and you'll be close enough to the ship to resupply if needed."
Lucavion inclined his head, his smirk faint as he responded. "Understood, Captain."
Eryndor's gaze lingered on him briefly, as if weighing his response, before he moved on to the next name.
[Middle of the formation?] Vitaliara remarked with a soft hum. [That's quite strategic. They want you close enough to pull your weight but not so far out that you'll be overwhelmed.]
'Or perhaps they just don't trust the "D-rank adventurer" to handle anything more critical,' Lucavion replied inwardly, his smirk deepening.
[Maybe.] Vitaliara's voice carried a note of amusement. [But we both know ranks don't tell the whole story, do they?]
'Exactly.' Lucavion's gaze shifted to the others assigned near him, noting their equipment, stances, and auras. Each one seemed competent, though none stood out as particularly exceptional. Good enough to hold their own, but not enough to cause problems.
Captain Eryndor's eyes shifted toward the trio of mages standing slightly apart from the rest of the group. Their presence was subdued but vital, the faint hum of mana surrounding them like an invisible veil. He studied them briefly, his sharp gaze lingering on each in turn before he began assigning their positions.
"Mage Tarian," he said, addressing a stocky man with a dark cloak draped over his shoulders. The man looked up, his expression calm but focused. "You'll be stationed at clock nine. Hold the western flank steady."
Tarian gave a firm nod, adjusting the intricate staff he carried. "Understood, Captain."
"Mage Caldris," Eryndor continued, turning to the next figure. This one was a thin, wiry man with sharp features and robes adorned with faintly glowing runes. "You'll take the middle—clock twelve."
Caldris inclined his head, his expression betraying no emotion. "I'll see it done."
Finally, Eryndor's gaze settled on the blonde woman who had drawn Lucavion's attention earlier. Her blue eyes met the captain's, a flicker of nervousness visible despite her composed demeanor.
"Mage Elara," Eryndor said, his tone softening slightly but still firm. "You'll take the eastern flank—clock three. Since you and Warrior Cedric seem to be acquaintances, I've placed him beside you for additional support."
The woman—Elara—nodded, her golden hair catching the light as she dipped her head in acknowledgment. "Thank you, Captain. I won't let the formation falter."
Beside her, the man identified as Cedric—tall, broad-shouldered, and the one who had glared at Lucavion earlier—straightened slightly at the mention of his name. His expression was stoic, but there was a subtle air of protectiveness about him as he glanced toward Elara.
[Elara,] Vitaliara murmured in Lucavion's mind. [So, she has a name. And a friend, it seems.]
A friend….It appears that someone is looking for being more than a friend.
He thought inwardly.
'A friend with an intense glare.'
[Jealousy, perhaps?] Vitaliara teased, her tone carrying a mischievous lilt.
'Perhaps,' Lucavion replied inwardly, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. 'But that's his problem, not mine.'
Elara seemed unaware of the silent exchange between Lucavion and Cedric. Her focus remained on Captain Eryndor, her hands clasped in front of her staff as she steadied herself. Despite the faint nervousness in her demeanor, there was a quiet determination in her eyes—one that spoke of resolve beneath her polished exterior.
"Good," Eryndor said after a brief pause, his tone final. "All of you, remember your positions. Once the platforms are active, communication between stations will be limited. Mages, prioritize stability above all else. Warriors, ensure the mages can focus on their tasks without interruption. Now, prepare yourselves. We set sail shortly."
With his orders given, the captain turned and strode toward the helm, his movements brisk and efficient.
Lucavion leaned back against the railing, his dark eyes drifting toward Elara as she exchanged a few words with Cedric. The man's protective stance didn't escape Lucavion's notice, nor did the subtle way Elara's nervous energy seemed to ease in Cedric's presence.
[Quite the dynamic,] Vitaliara remarked with a playful hum. [Careful, Lucavion. You might end up in the middle of something far messier than this expedition.]
Well, well, well…..Isn't that why we are here?
He thought though he did not say that out loud.
Chapter 364: Formation 2
Elara stood at the docks, the sea breeze tugging gently at her golden hair as she scanned the bustling scene around her. Despite the chatter of the crew, the steady rhythm of boots against wood, and the occasional barked orders from nearby officers, her focus drifted inward.
'This is it,' she thought, her grip tightening slightly around the staff in her hands. Her palms felt clammy despite the cool air. 'The first real battle. No controlled training grounds, no mentors watching from the sidelines. Just me, my magic, and…' She glanced around at the gathered adventurers and mercenaries, her gaze lingering on the hardened faces and weathered gear. 'These people.'
It was impossible not to notice how strong they looked. Every movement they made, from adjusting their weapons to the way they carried themselves, spoke of experience—battles fought and survived. They weren't just here for glory; they were here because they knew how to survive in places where others wouldn't.
Her eyes fell on a man clad in blackened armor, the heavy plates dark as storm clouds and marked with scars that told their own stories. He stood near the edge of the docks, his massive axe resting casually against his shoulder. Though he wasn't speaking, his presence seemed to fill the space around him, like a thunderhead ready to break.
'He's… powerful,' Elara thought, a faint shiver running through her. 'I can feel it, even from here. That kind of confidence doesn't come from bravado. He knows what he's capable of.' She quickly averted her gaze, not wanting to draw his attention. 'And I'm not sure I want to know what that is.'
Her attention shifted to a woman standing nearby, twin blades crossed at her back. Her movements were precise, and calculated, each step deliberate as she spoke in low tones to another mercenary. The sunlight glinted off her weapons, and the sharpness of her eyes, as they scanned the crowd, made Elara's stomach twist with unease.
'Her, too,' Elara mused, swallowing the lump in her throat. 'She's not just strong—she's focused. Dangerous. Like she's always one step ahead of everyone else.'
Of course, that was mostly her glazing, but for a mage trainee like her who was doing this for the first time, her perception of reality was quite different.
She let out a slow breath, steadying herself against the rising tide of nerves. The sheer strength of the adventurers and mercenaries around her was undeniable, but it was also undeniable that she had her own strengths.
'Nervous or not, I'm ready,' she thought, gripping her staff with firm resolve. 'I've trained for this, worked for this. I've studied spells until my hands shook from overuse and listened to every word my master said as if it were sacred.' She straightened her back, letting the weight of those lessons fill her with confidence. 'Master always told me to trust in my abilities, no matter how daunting the task. And I will.'
Her gaze flicked to Cedric, who was overseeing the loading of supplies nearby. The steady presence of her knight, a rock in every storm they had faced together, brought a faint smile to her lips. 'Cedric's been by my side through everything. If anyone can be trusted to hold the line, it's him.'
She glanced down at her staff, the polished wood cool against her fingers. It was more than a weapon—it was a symbol of her master's trust in her abilities. Her master's teachings were etched into her every movement, every spell she cast. 'I've faced difficulties before, and I've overcome them. This is just one more step forward. I can do this.'
A sense of calm began to settle over her, smoothing the jagged edges of her nerves. The weight of doubt lightened as she planted her feet more firmly on the docks.
And then her gaze shifted, almost involuntarily, drawn to a figure standing not too far away.
'Luca, was it?' she thought, the name coming unbidden to her mind. The young man stood with a casual confidence, his coat swaying lightly in the sea breeze. His posture was relaxed, his expression unreadable, but there was something about him that snagged her attention and refused to let go.
Her brow furrowed slightly as she studied him, trying to decipher the strange feeling stirring within her. There was nothing remarkable about his appearance. His face was… normal. Not particularly handsome, not unattractive—just ordinary. Even the scar running diagonally across his eye, while distinct, wasn't enough to stand out in a place like this, filled with battle-worn veterans and hardened warriors.
'Why does he feel so… familiar?' she wondered, tilting her head slightly. 'I've never met anyone with a scar like that, nor do I remember someone with those features. And yet…'
The sensation wasn't one of recognition exactly, but it was close—like trying to recall a dream that lingered just out of reach. The harder she tried to place him, the more elusive the feeling became. Her thoughts tangled, looping back on themselves with no clear answer.
'It doesn't make any sense,' she admitted to herself. 'He's just… normal. Not the kind of person I'd remember.'
Yet, her gaze lingered, her curiosity refusing to dissipate. There was something undeniably odd about the pull she felt toward him, as though her instincts were trying to tell her something her mind couldn't grasp.
She wasn't one to question her instincts lightly—after all, they had been her guiding star more than once. Whether in sparring matches, navigating difficult decisions, or surviving challenges she'd thought beyond her ability, her instincts had never led her astray.
'They've brought me this far,' she thought, her fingers brushing the smooth surface of her staff. 'And if they're telling me to pay attention to him, there must be a reason.'
Still, the reason eluded her. Luca didn't carry himself like the other adventurers and mercenaries. His confidence wasn't loud or ostentatious; it was quiet, understated, the kind that seemed to hum just beneath the surface. He wasn't the type to draw attention, and yet, here she was—unable to look away for long.
'I wonder how strong he is,' she mused, the thought forming almost unbidden. Her lips pressed together as she tried to weigh the possibility. 'Is he really exceptional, or am I making a mistake?'
The question lingered, unanswered but insistent. Her instincts didn't often misfire, and that made her all the more curious. She tilted her head slightly, studying him from a distance. His stance was relaxed, almost lazy, but there was a tension in the way he moved—a coiled readiness that belied his casual demeanor.
'There's something there,' she thought, her brows furrowing. 'I can feel it. He's hiding something. Strength, maybe? Or… something else?'
Her thoughts raced as she watched him. Luca's sharp eyes flicked over the crowd with a detached ease, as if he were cataloging the strengths and weaknesses of everyone around him. His movements were deliberate, yet unhurried, like someone who had no reason to rush—or worry.
'Just weird….'
He was just weird.
"Lady Elara?"
Hearing Cedric's voice, she came to herself.
"Are you listening?"
Seeing him looking at her like that, she just averted her gaze a little.
'Well, let's stop it Elara. This is not the time to be wondering about useless things.'
"I was distracted a little bit."
Cedric's gaze lingered on her for a moment, his expression unreadable. The steady hum of activity around them seemed to fade as he studied her, the weight of his silence pressing against her thoughts.
Finally, he glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing slightly as they landed on the young man named Luca. There was no mistaking the faint flicker of suspicion in his expression as he took in Luca's casual posture and sharp, assessing gaze.
"Be careful about him," Cedric said quietly, his tone firm but low enough that only Elara could hear. His hand rested lightly on the hilt of his sword, an instinctive gesture of readiness. "I don't have a good feeling about him."
Elara blinked, caught off guard by the comment. "Luca?" she asked, her voice soft but incredulous. "Why?"
Cedric's eyes shifted back to her, his expression darkening just enough to reveal his unease. "I don't know," he admitted, his jaw tightening slightly. "It's just… something about him feels off. The way he carries himself, the way he looks at everyone here. He doesn't feel like the others." His grip on the hilt of his sword tightened for a moment before he let out a measured breath, visibly steadying himself. "He's dangerous. I'm sure of it."
Elara's lips parted slightly in surprise.
"Really?"
Elara frowned slightly, her gaze shifting between Cedric and Luca. "Really?" she repeated, her tone soft but edged with doubt. "I mean… he hasn't done anything wrong. He doesn't seem like a bad person."
Cedric's expression didn't waver. If anything, his unease deepened. "That's exactly why you should be cautious," he said, his voice low and firm.
Elara let out a quiet sigh, her brows knitting together. "I don't know, Cedric. That man in the black armor with the axe? Or the woman with the twin swords? They feel more dangerous to me. At least their power is obvious."
Cedric shook his head, his grip tightening briefly on the hilt of his sword. "That's exactly the point. You can see what they are, clear as day. You can prepare for someone like that. But him?" He gestured subtly toward Luca without taking his eyes off Elara. "He's different. He's hiding something, and that makes him more dangerous."
Elara glanced back at Luca, watching as he adjusted his coat and shifted his weight, still relaxed and unconcerned.
"If you say so."
And then she nodded.
Just then the captain entered the docks.
"Get ready! We are sailing."
It was the time to fight.
Chapter 365: A good show ?
The sharp bark of Captain Eryndor's command cut through the bustling docks. "Get ready! We are sailing."
The atmosphere shifted instantly, tension snapping taut like a drawn bowstring. The crew sprang into action, casting off lines and adjusting sails with practiced precision. The adventurers, mercenaries, and mages hurried to their positions, their earlier conversations replaced by grim silence. Everyone knew what was coming—the first step into danger.
Lucavion pushed off from the railing and moved toward his designated spot near the middle of the formation. Around him, the organized chaos of departure swirled, a symphony of shouts, creaking wood, and the steady crash of waves against the hull. He inhaled deeply, the salty tang of the sea air filling his lungs. Here we go, he thought, his smirk returning as he adjusted the collar of his coat.
[Excited?] Vitaliara asked, perched lightly on his shoulder, her glowing form shimmering faintly.
'I wouldn't call it excitement,' Lucavion replied inwardly. 'But there's something… invigorating about stepping into chaos.'
The ship lurched gently as it began to move, the sails catching the wind. The crewmembers moved with purpose, their actions fluid and synchronized. As the docks faded into the distance, the open sea stretched before them—vast, glittering, and deceptively serene.
The platforms were conjured as they neared the first area of infestation. The three mages, stationed at clock nine, twelve, and three as directed, channeled their mana into the water. Waves shimmered as glowing symbols etched themselves into the air, forming intricate magical constructs that hovered just above the surface. Slowly, the constructs solidified into stable platforms, their surfaces smooth and unyielding.
Lucavion stood near his assigned position, observing the process with mild interest. Impressive, he admitted inwardly. If nothing else, they've mastered the art of creating a battlefield where none should exist.
The adventurers and mercenaries stepped onto the platforms, their movements cautious at first. Weapons were drawn, shields raised, and spells prepared. The air was thick with anticipation, the tension mounting as the group waited for the inevitable.
A distant rumble echoed across the water, low and guttural. It vibrated through the air, sending ripples across the platforms and drawing every eye to the horizon.
"They're coming," someone muttered, their voice barely above a whisper.
The sea began to churn, waves rising unnaturally as if disturbed by an unseen force. Then, breaking through the water's surface, the first creature appeared—a hulking, grotesque form with scales glinting like tarnished metal. Its elongated body twisted unnaturally, and its maw opened to reveal rows of jagged teeth.
Behind it, more creatures emerged, their numbers growing rapidly until the horizon was dotted with monstrous shapes. The distant rumble became a cacophony of snarls, growls, and the wet slap of bodies surging through the water.
"Hold your positions!" Captain Eryndor's voice rang out, clear and commanding. "Do not break the line!"
Lucavion's smirk widened as he unsheathed his weapon, the blade gleaming faintly in the magical light. The Flame of Equinox flickered to life at its edge, the delicate balance of life and death coiling like a serpent.
[They're here,] Vitaliara murmured, her tone tinged with a mix of wariness and anticipation.
'Good,' Lucavion thought, his gaze fixed on the approaching horde. 'Let's see how much fun this chaos can offer.'
With the first clash imminent, Lucavion adjusted his stance, ready to meet the monsters head-on as the battle began.
********
A smaller ship drifted some distance from the Fourth Station, its sleek hull cutting through the gentle waves with quiet grace. Unlike the six larger vessels stationed at key positions for the expedition, this one was built for mobility rather than combat. Its sails were smaller, its deck more compact, and its crew limited to a select few tasked with ensuring the safety of its singular passenger.
Aeliana stood at the ship's railing, her veiled face turned toward the chaotic battle unfolding in the distance. The wind tugged at her heavy robes, the fabric billowing softly as she gripped the railing with gloved hands. Even from this distance, the clash was a spectacle of movement and sound—flashes of magic, the glint of steel, the guttural roars of the creatures, and the resounding shouts of the expedition teams.
Her heart pounded, the pulse of adrenaline foreign yet intoxicating. For the first time in years, she wasn't confined to the suffocating walls of her chamber or the carefully curated gardens of the estate. Here, on the open sea, with danger in the air and the horizon stretching endlessly before her, she felt something she hadn't in a long time—alive.
"Is everything to your satisfaction, my lady?" Madeleina's voice broke through her thoughts, calm yet laced with subtle concern. The attendant stood a respectful distance behind her, ever-watchful.
Aeliana didn't respond immediately. Her gaze remained fixed on the distant platforms, where Captain Eryndor's team was engaged in combat. The sight was both mesmerizing and unsettling. The monsters were hideous, their forms unnatural and grotesque as they surged toward the platforms. The adventurers and mercenaries moved with precision, their actions coordinated and deliberate, but the sheer number of creatures made it clear this fight would not be an easy one.
"...It's different," Aeliana said finally, her voice muffled by the veil but steady.
"Different, my lady?" Madeleina asked, tilting her head slightly.
"From how they described it," Aeliana replied. "The maids, the books—they always spoke of the sea as something beautiful, something untamed yet magnificent. But this…" She gestured faintly toward the battle. "This is chaos."
Madeleina approached cautiously, her gaze flicking briefly toward the distant clash. "The sea has always been both beautiful and dangerous, my lady. Perhaps this is simply the side you were never shown."
Aeliana's lips pressed into a thin line beneath the veil. She said nothing, her grip tightening on the railing as her eyes darted from one point of the battle to another. She watched as Captain Eryndor's commanding presence kept his team steady, even as waves of monsters crashed against the platforms. His voice carried over the water, sharp and authoritative, ensuring the line didn't falter.
From this distance, she could only observe. She couldn't hear the full weight of their shouts or feel the ground tremble beneath the force of the strikes. But even in this detached state, the raw energy of the battle seeped into her chest, filling the hollow ache that had lingered there for so long.
Madeleina stepped closer, her hands folded neatly in front of her. "The vantage point is secure, my lady," she said gently. "You'll remain safe here. The Duke was insistent."
Aeliana's jaw tightened at the mention of her father. "I know," she said curtly. "I can see that much."
Her gaze swept across the platforms, her focus lingering on the Fourth Station. Captain Eryndor's team was methodical, their formation holding strong despite the relentless onslaught. The monsters fell one after another, their grotesque bodies collapsing into the water in lifeless heaps.
But then, her eyes caught something—a flash of movement, too fast and too erratic to belong to the expedition team. A single figure moved with unnerving precision, their blade glinting in the light as they cut through the chaos with an almost unnatural ease.
'Hmm?'
She didn't know his name, but even from here, she could tell he was different. His movements were calculated yet fluid, his strikes deadly accurate. It was as if he thrived in the chaos, his presence an anomaly.
"Who is that?" she murmured, more to herself than to Madeleina.
Madeleina followed her gaze, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I'm not certain, my lady. Likely one of the mercenaries or adventurers hired for the expedition."
'Interesting.'
Aeliana's eyes narrowed behind the veil as she continued to watch the lone figure. The long blade he wielded flashed intermittently, catching the light—but it wasn't just ordinary light. The faint blackish glow that emanated from the weapon was unlike anything she'd seen before. It wasn't a dull sheen or a reflection of the sun. It was dark, almost shadowy, yet illuminated by subtle, twinkling sparks.
'What is that?' she thought, her brows furrowing. The light felt unnatural, otherworldly—a contradiction in itself. It was dark but radiant, as though it carried the essence of starlight within its depths. Her mind raced, struggling to make sense of it. 'A starlight?'
The term echoed in her thoughts, but even as she considered it, she felt uncertain. Was there even a mana accumulation technique that could produce something like this? She had studied magic in her earlier years, and while her knowledge was incomplete, she had never encountered anything remotely similar. It was as if the blade defied the very principles of mana she understood.
Her gaze shifted back to the young man. He moved with unnerving precision, cutting through the chaos as though it were a carefully choreographed dance. Each strike of his blade was deliberate, each movement calculated to exploit the monsters' weaknesses. Their grotesque forms crumbled beneath his onslaught, their snarls silenced before they could even reach him.
Aeliana found herself transfixed. The rest of the adventurers and mercenaries fought valiantly, their skills honed and their formations steady. Captain Eryndor's leadership ensured the Fourth Station held its ground. But even from her distant vantage point, it was clear that none of them shone like the young man.
'Well, at the very least, thank you for showing me a good show for my final moments.'
This was a saving grace, was it not?
Chapter 366: Frost Magic
Elara's breath hitched as the first creature broke the water's surface. The grotesque form, its twisted body glinting wetly in the sunlight, sent a chill of unease through her. Then another appeared. And another. Soon, the horizon was a writhing mass of monstrosities. Her grip on her staff tightened, her knuckles whitening.
'Focus,' she told herself, heart pounding in her chest. Her master's voice echoed in her mind: Fear is natural. Control it, or it will control you.
"Lady Elara," Cedric called, his voice steady as he stepped onto the platform nearest hers. His sword was drawn, its edge gleaming. "Stay behind the line. You're the key to holding this formation. We've got this."
She nodded quickly, her eyes flicking to the mercenaries bracing for impact. Their confidence was reassuring, but her nerves remained. She had trained for this, prepared for this, and yet the sight of those creatures made her feel small.
'This is no different than practice,' she reminded herself. 'Just more chaotic.'
Raising her staff, she planted it firmly on the ground, drawing a deep breath as she began channeling mana. The air around her cooled, frost forming in delicate patterns along the platform.
"Hold the line!" Captain Eryndor's voice boomed, cutting through the cacophony of snarls and crashing waves. "Defend the mages!"
Elara's fingers moved with practiced precision, tracing intricate symbols in the air. She focused on the first wave of creatures surging toward the platform, their forms growing larger with every moment.
"Freeze," she whispered, releasing her first spell.
「Frostveil Lance」
A crystalline shard of ice materialized before her, gleaming with sharp edges. With a flick of her staff, she sent it hurtling toward the nearest creature.
SWOOSH!
It was a 2-star spell for the Magic Accumulation art she was using.
CREAK!
The lance struck true, piercing through the monster's scaled hide and freezing the water around it. The creature screeched, its movements slowing as frost crept across its body.
The impact bolstered her confidence. She adjusted her stance, steadying her trembling hands. Her fingers tightened on her staff as she steadied herself for another cast. The success of her first spell gave her a fleeting sense of control, but the writhing horde advancing toward them reminded her that this battle was far from over.
"Focus," she whispered, her breath visible in the cold air forming around her. Her gaze fixed on the next creature surging toward the platform, its grotesque body propelled by unnaturally powerful limbs.
She shifted her stance and drew a deep breath, channeling mana into the staff once more. Frost swirled around her feet as she raised her hand, forming a new spell.
「Frostvine Snare」 (1-star spell)
From the water beneath the creature, frost shot upward in curling vines, twisting around its limbs with a harsh CRACK! The vines locked the creature in place, freezing its movements as the icy tendrils tightened. The monster roared, thrashing against the bindings, but the frost held firm.
"Good!" Cedric shouted over the chaos. "Keep them contained!" His sword flashed as he cut down a smaller creature that had darted past the front line.
Elara nodded, sweat forming on her brow despite the cold. The strain of constant casting was starting to weigh on her, but she couldn't let up now. She pivoted toward another part of the battlefield where a larger creature was pressing dangerously close to the platform.
"This one's tougher," she muttered, raising her staff again. Her mana surged, and she began forming a more powerful spell.
「Glacial Edge Barrage」 (2-star spell)
Above her, jagged shards of ice formed in a slow, deliberate arc. WHIRR-CLINK! The sound of cracking frost filled the air as the shards hovered, glinting in the sunlight. Elara swung her staff downward, releasing the spell with a sharp WHOOSH!
The icy projectiles shot forward, slicing through the air and embedding themselves into the creature's hide with a resounding THUNK-CRACK! Each shard exploded on impact, spreading frost across the monster's body. It bellowed in pain, its movements sluggish as the frost seeped into its joints.
Elara's chest heaved, the effort of the spell leaving her momentarily lightheaded. "I need to conserve mana," she muttered, shifting her stance to prepare for the next wave. "Shorter casts. Faster."
Around her, the battlefield was alive with noise—mercenaries shouting, steel clashing, and the guttural snarls of the creatures. She focused on the sounds of her allies holding the line, grounding herself against the chaos.
A smaller creature darted toward the rear of the formation, its sharp claws glinting ominously. Elara turned quickly, her staff already glowing with frost.
「Icy Flicker」 (1-star spell)
With a flick of her wrist, a thin, precise beam of ice shot from the staff. ZING! The beam struck the creature's legs, freezing them solid and causing it to collapse with a muffled THUD!. A mercenary quickly stepped in to deliver the killing blow.
"Nice shot!" the mercenary called over his shoulder. Elara gave a brief nod, too focused to respond.
The relentless waves of creatures kept coming, their grotesque forms breaking through the surf like shadows against the horizon. Elara shifted her attention again, spotting a group of smaller monsters closing in together.
She gritted her teeth, channeling mana once more.
「Frostbound Cascade」 (2-star spell)
A stream of frost shot from her staff, spreading across the water with a sound like shattering glass—CRASH-CRACKLE! The ice surged toward the group of creatures, enveloping them in a growing sheet of ice. Their snarls turned to muffled howls as the frost immobilized them, locking them in place.
The battlefield gradually quieted as the last of the creatures collapsed under a coordinated assault from the adventurers and mercenaries. Their guttural snarls faded into the rhythmic crash of waves against the icy platforms, and a collective exhale swept through the defenders.
Elara lowered her staff, her arms trembling slightly from exertion. Frost clung to her fingers and the hem of her cloak, a testament to the spells she'd cast in rapid succession. She inhaled deeply, trying to calm her racing heart as the adrenaline slowly ebbed away.
"That's the first wave down," one of the mercenaries nearby called out, his voice rough but relieved. Cheers rose from a few others, though most remained focused, their eyes scanning the horizon for signs of the next attack.
Elara let herself relax for a brief moment, feeling the strain of her magic settling in her core. Her reserves weren't depleted yet, but the heavy spells had taken their toll.
"Lady Elara," Cedric's voice came from behind her, steady and reassuring. She turned to see him approaching, his sword sheathed but his sharp gaze still scanning the area. He held out a small vial filled with a shimmering blue liquid.
"A mana potion," he said simply, extending it toward her.
Her eyes widened slightly. Mana potions were rare and expensive, usually reserved for emergencies or the wealthiest of mages. "Cedric, you didn't have to—"
"You need it," he interrupted, his tone firm but gentle. "No point in holding back when there's more to come."
Elara hesitated for only a second before taking the vial. She uncorked it and took a small sip, feeling the cool liquid flow through her, spreading warmth as it replenished her mana reserves. The tightness in her chest eased slightly as her core responded, the potion's effects enhancing her natural recovery.
She let out a soft sigh of relief. "Thank you," she said, her voice sincere. "I really needed that."
Cedric gave a small nod, his expression softening for a moment. "You've been holding your own out there. But don't push yourself too hard. There's still a long way to go."
Elara smiled faintly, his words grounding her. "I'll be careful. Promise."
Sliding the potion back into its protective casing at her belt, she reached for her water flask. The cool, fresh taste was a welcome relief against the dryness in her throat, and she took a few measured gulps before capping it and slinging it back over her shoulder.
"Ready for the next wave?" Cedric asked, his eyes watching her closely.
Elara straightened, her grip tightening on her staff. "Always," she replied, her tone carrying a quiet determination.
Cedric smirked faintly, his confidence in her unwavering. "Good. They'll be coming soon enough. Stay sharp."
As Cedric moved off to check on the other defenders, Elara turned her attention back to the open sea, her eyes scanning the horizon. The icy platforms glistened under the dim light, their stability a testament to the mages holding them together. The lull in battle gave her a brief chance to breathe, but she knew it wouldn't last.
*******
'What do you think?'
On the other hand, Lucavion was watching the exchange between the two.
[Humph…..She is quite good.]
And Vitaliara was honest.
'Really?'
Though Lucavion would disagree with her this time.
Chapter 367: Frost Magic (2)
At that time, when the fight was going on, Lucavion was also observing Elara from the corner of his eyes.
Since most of the monsters for the beginner waves were rather on the weaker side, he was able to easily overcome any of these situations without much mistakes.
He'd positioned himself deliberately, ensuring he had a clear view of her movements, her spells, and the choices she made in combat. After all, observing her was one of the reasons he had chosen the fourth station.
And as the skirmish unfolded, things developed just as he had expected.
Elara's skill was evident—her control over ice magic precise, her casting swift, and her presence on the battlefield steady. The crystalline frost forming at her feet, the lethal efficiency of her spells, and the way she adapted to the flow of the fight all spoke to her training and talent.
'Impressive,' Lucavion thought, his smirk faint but approving. 'But flawed.'
His sharp gaze caught the details others overlooked. The spell choices she made often seemed disproportionate to the threats she faced. For smaller, weaker monsters, she occasionally overcompensated, using high-tier spells that drained her mana unnecessarily. Meanwhile, against tougher creatures, her initial responses were occasionally lacking, as though she underestimated the danger they posed until she adjusted mid-combat.
[Humph…] Vitaliara's voice purred in his mind, laced with genuine observation. [She's quite good.]
'Really?' Lucavion thought, his tone skeptical as he watched her cast another high-tier spell against a mid-tier monster, freezing it completely but wasting valuable resources in the process. 'She's talented, yes, but raw.'
[You sound unimpressed,] Vitaliara remarked, her tail flicking lightly against his neck. [Shouldn't you be cheering her on?]
'This isn't about cheering,' he replied inwardly, his smirk growing faintly. 'This is about understanding. She has power, but no nuance. Her inexperience shows in how she uses that power.'
[Care to explain, oh wise one?]
Lucavion's gaze didn't waver from Elara as she regrouped, her staff glowing faintly as she prepared another spell. 'She doesn't understand the monsters she's facing—not fully. She's compensating with raw force when precision would suffice. Against weaker enemies, she's wasting mana. Against stronger ones, she's playing catch-up because she doesn't recognize their threat until it's too late.'
Vitaliara hummed thoughtfully. [I see what you mean. She's adjusting on the fly, but her lack of knowledge is forcing her to fight harder, not smarter.]
'Exactly,' Lucavion agreed, his smirk softening into something more contemplative. 'She doesn't have a framework to rely on. No understanding of the creatures' strengths, weaknesses, or patterns. That's her blind spot.'
He didn't mention to Vitaliara the real reason for his insight—the fact that he already knew Elara's strengths and weaknesses from the novel. It was a delicate balance to maintain, keeping his knowledge of this world's underlying story to himself while leveraging it as a tool.
[Still, she held her own,] Vitaliara pointed out, her tone almost defensive. [You can't deny that.]
'True,' Lucavion admitted. 'Her raw talent carried her through, and her determination is... admirable. But talent only gets you so far. Without knowledge, she's at a disadvantage she doesn't even realize she has.'
His gaze flicked briefly to Cedric, who remained close to Elara, offering her a mana potion and a steadying word. The man's protective instincts were clear, and while Lucavion found them slightly grating, he couldn't deny their value. Elara needed grounding, and Cedric provided that—though Lucavion noted with a faint smirk how Cedric's sharp glares occasionally turned his way.
'At least she has support,' Lucavion thought, his expression briefly amused. 'Even if he looks like he wants to cut me down for existing.'
[You're thinking too much again,] Vitaliara teased, her voice light. [Just admit she's got potential and move on.]
Lucavion's smirk twisted into something faintly amused as he adjusted his grip on his weapon, his gaze flicking toward Vitaliara's glowing form on his shoulder. 'When did you start taking her side?' he mused inwardly. 'What happened to the Vitaliara who spent all her time critiquing her every move?'
Vitaliara hummed softly, her tail curling lightly around his neck. [Indeed, it is strange, isn't it?] she replied, her tone reflective rather than defensive. [But… I don't know. I suppose there's something about her that feels familiar. I can't quite place it, but it's there.]
Lucavion raised an eyebrow, though his expression remained otherwise neutral. 'Familiar?'
[Yes,] Vitaliara continued, her voice quieting as though she were searching for the words. [Not entirely, but… something resonates. It's like a fragment of a memory, blurry and out of reach. Maybe it's nothing. Or maybe it's just... her determination. It reminds me of someone.]
Lucavion's smirk faltered for the briefest moment, replaced by a flicker of something unspoken. His thoughts shifted inward, brushing against truths he had no intention of sharing—not yet, at least.
'It's because she's the daughter of Master,' he thought, the weight of the realization settling within him. He'd known it from the start, of course, but seeing Vitaliara—Master's familiar—unconsciously drawn to Elara only confirmed what he already understood.
Still, he said nothing of it aloud, his sharp mind keeping the revelation locked away for now. It's not the time. Not yet.
"Well, whatever the reason," he said instead, his voice light but tinged with a trace of mischief, "don't let her newfound favor go to your head. You've been surprisingly lenient."
[Don't get used to it,] Vitaliara retorted with a faint huff, though her teasing tone returned quickly. [She still has plenty to learn. I'm just saying she's not entirely hopeless.]
Lucavion chuckled softly, his gaze flicking back toward Elara as she steadied herself, her staff glowing faintly with frost as she prepared for the next wave. 'Not hopeless, huh? High praise coming from you.'
The sea began to churn again, signaling the arrival of more creatures. Lucavion adjusted his stance, his smirk returning as he prepared to meet the chaos head-on.
'Let's see how she handles what's next,' he thought, his blade gleaming faintly with the soft flicker of the Flame of Equinox.
'And…..I am really close to breakthrough….Indeed, this was what I had been lacking all this time….'
As the scene with Elara and the battle continued, Lucavion's focus subtly shifted inward. He began to sense the coiling of energy deep within him—a restlessness in his [Flame of Equinox], like a predator denied its feast. The pulse of the flame resonated with every slain monster, but it remained unsatisfied.
'So, that's what I've been missing,' he mused, his gaze flicking to the battlefield strewn with the remains of lesser creatures. His blade moved almost reflexively, cutting down another foe with a clean, effortless strike. 'A concentrated flow of death energy. Not a single kill or a formidable foe, but an overwhelming release. A true storm of destruction.'
[You look… different,] Vitaliara remarked, her voice laced with curiosity. [What's on your mind?]
Lucavion let out a low chuckle, his grip on his weapon steady. 'The answer to my breakthrough,' he replied. 'I always thought I needed stronger opponents to cross into the 4-star realm, but I've been looking at it wrong. The Flame of Equinox isn't just about power—it's about balance, about feeding on the essence of life and death in harmony.'
[And what does that mean for now?] Vitaliara's tone sharpened, sensing the shift in his resolve.
'It means this battle isn't just a skirmish anymore,' Lucavion thought, a faint smirk curling at his lips. 'It's the perfect crucible.'
And just as he had said that, the monsters surged again, their numbers growing as the intermediate waves began.
Lucavion stepped forward, his blade igniting with the flame, its light casting a crimson glow against the shadowed terrain. His strikes grew sharper, more decisive, each one releasing bursts of energy that fed the hungry flame.
He could feel the shift within him, the subtle cracking of the barrier that had held him back for so long. Each monster he felled added to the growing tide, their deaths fueling the equilibrium of the flame.
[Lucavion…] Vitaliara's voice was low, almost reverent. [What are you planning?]
He paused briefly, casting her a glance that held both amusement and determination. 'Just watch. This isn't something I can explain—it's something you'll feel when it happens.'
With that, he surged into the heart of the battle, his movements a seamless blend of precision and ferocity. Each swing of his blade ignited the flame further, the energy radiating from him growing with every passing moment. It wasn't just the monsters that fell—it was the atmosphere itself, thick with the raw essence of death, that began to shift.
The world seemed to hold its breath as Lucavion pushed himself further, the flame roaring to life around him. And then, as the wave of monsters broke against him like water against stone, he felt it—a shattering within, followed by an all-consuming heat.
The breakthrough came like a flood, the Flame of Equinox surging to a new level. It wasn't just power; it was clarity, balance, and control, all coalescing into a single, undeniable force.
'Indeed, that was what I had been missing.'