"Ah… my head…
It hurts… it… hurts…"
His breath trembled.
"Damn it… no no… something is burning inside my skull. Someone, stop this… stop this… please. Help me… I do not wish to endure this any longer. Free me… someone… anyone… my head… damn it…"
His body writhed against the shattered pillars and ruins that had pinned him. With a violent jolt, he forced himself upright. His head lowered to one side, blood running freely down the lines of his face. A faint glow traced itself across his forehead, crimson light blooming like a curse. Above him, the moon darkened mturning a deep, unsettling red.
Every holy knight and iron-holder froze. All eyes lifted to the sky.
Lady Helena reacted first. She rushed forward with swift precision and shouted,
"What are you all doing, standing there? Do you intend for the public to witness this? Form a force field now!"
At once, the summoners capable of altering the supernatural sphere gathered. Their collective power surged, weaving a barrier over the entire area. The holy force shield shimmered into existence an illusionary veil designed to deceive any civilians or ordinary citizens nearby. To the unaware, it would display an entirely different scene, concealing the unfolding disaster.
Helena's voice rang out again:
"Everyone ranked three, two, and four hold your positions. All rank ones open a portal and evacuate the lower-ranked novices immediately!"
Chaos rippled through the formation as evacuation began, leaving only the strongest behind.
Quinn Morrow, however, was unfortunate. He had strayed too far from the evacuation point. By the time the portals opened, he could not reach them. He ran instead to the shadows, hiding behind a fallen stone arch.
Klaus's lifeless body drifted upward, suspended as if pulled by invisible strings.
His voice cracked with terror, "Someone… help me… stop this… please… stop damn it!"
A sudden portal opened above the battlefield. From it stepped a woman.
She wore the black ceremonial attire of the Holy Knights. Gold-plated boots guarded her legs, and matching gloves covered her hands. Her long hair, a deep shade of dark red, flowed elegantly behind her. Her presence was calm yet commanding the unmistakable aura of the Frost family.
She was the sister of Jäger Frost.
A commander.
Rowan Frost Commander of the Eighth Division.
The holy knights and iron-holders instinctively lowered their heads.
"What is she doing here?" whispered one officer.
Another replied, "What do you mean? We already have two commanders present. This battle is as good as finished."
Helena stepped forward.
"Commander Rowan… we are honoured by your presence, though I must say—had you been this close, assistance earlier would have been welcome."
Rowan's expression remained cold.
"There is no time for pointless remarks. Tell me what precisely is happening here?"
Helena exhaled sharply.
"One of the Holy Knight graduates attempted a sorcery sphere. It has spiralled into chaos."