Lumia Subjugation Operation (4)
“I just wanted to take it easy, but you had to come and ruin it.”
Lumia shot the Windsor Knights a glance as if they were mere bugs.
“Not that it changes anything.”
But she soon flashed a confident smile.
“Welcome, humans. I am Lumia of the White Night. Just so you know, I'm on a whole different level from any demons you've met before.”
As if to prove her words weren't empty, Lumia swept her hand through the empty air.
Dozens of ash-gray weapons floated up into the sky. Their numbers multiplied exponentially, soon filling the brightened night sky completely.
“...What do you think, Hyter?”
Jerryway chuckled as he spoke, and Hyter wiped sweat from his brow with a grimace.
“Looks like we're not getting off early tonight.”
The power of magic depends on the mind of the one enduring it. No matter how strong the spell, if you don't know what it is, its effect is greatly diminished.
Unfortunately, the Windsor Knights knew exactly what those weapons could do.
“Her specialty seems to be copying the enemy's weapons and hurling them back.”
Of course—among those armaments were the ones Sisilia had thrown earlier.
In a way, Sisilia had caused a major blunder, but she stood with her hands behind her back, wearing a knowing, enigmatic smile.
“The power appears nearly identical to the originals. Plus, her Authority, White Night, seems to carry a 'homing' property. Simply deflecting them won't cut it—you have to destroy the incoming blades outright.”
For some reason, she looked thrilled.
Edward, who had been about to intercept the spell before it fully formed, saw the weapons still multiplying and lowered his sword with a sigh. “Tell us how to counter it. Do that, and I'll overlook the fact that you stole Caladbolg from the imperial treasury.”
“I don't know the names of all those weapons, but judging by the power of the ones I threw—”
Sisilia quietly sheathed Beatrice's sword, now glowing golden.
“Even one hit is fatal. After all, those thousands of armaments are all Mythic-grade relics.”
“No time. So, what's the countermeasure?”
Sisilia basked in everyone's expectant gazes, raising her index finger confidently.
“Run.”
“?”
“...?”
“Bye-bye.”
Sisilia bolted without looking back.
“...”
As everyone stared in stunned silence, something chased after her.
“W-Wait for me!”
Beatrice hurriedly followed.
The remaining Windsor Knights glanced slyly at Edward.
“Captain, what now?”
“I-I've never known Sisilia to be wrong. Except when it comes to spending money.”
Edward's lips twitched as he spoke.
“All units, withdraw.”
And at that moment, Lumia's spell completed.
Lumia lowered her hand.
Replica
The ash-gray weapons that had blanketed the sky rained down on the Windsor Knights.
They all broke into a full sprint at once.
“Damn it! Twenty Windsor Knights together, and we have to run away like cowards?!”
Edward glanced back at Hyter's grumbling.
They're speeding up. We'll get caught.
The High Knights were fine, but the Regular Knights were the problem. At this rate, half would be lost.
Naturally, Edward had no intention of losing even one Windsor Knight here.
Dying during a retreat? The world would laugh.
“Captain!”
“Go on ahead!”
Edward spun around, drew his sword.
Twenty seconds should do it.
Fortunately, Lumia's White Night had a fixed range—exactly to the base camp where Duke Eisenberg waited.
Edward planned to hold out until then. He deflected the fastest incoming blade—
Boom—!
“!”
A deafening explosion rocked the air. Without his fire Blessing, it would've been fatal.
Even one hit is fatal. Those thousands are all Mythic-grade.
Of course it's real when it matters most.
Edward gritted his teeth and swatted another weapon aside.
Crack.
An ominous sound. A glance showed cracks in his blade.
Without hesitation, Edward tossed his sword and grabbed the incoming one to parry the next.
“Captain! No time for that—retreat!”
“I'll handle it!”
Only after confirming the Regular Knights had escaped the White Night's range did Edward sprint at full speed.
But had he delayed too long? Twenty weapons closed in right behind him.
Stopping to deflect would leave him open to the hundreds more trailing.
Some casualties inevitable? Damn, pointless injuries.
As Edward ground his teeth—
“...That's...”
From the base camp, swords peeked through warped space. The mana felt like Sisilia's.
Realizing her intent, Edward smirked.
He tensed, then rolled across the ground at full force.
At that instant, Sisilia pointed downward.
“Fire.”
Kaboom-crash!
Forty weapons smashed into each other above Edward.
Lumia's White Night had homing. So twenty pursuers. Sisilia countered with exactly twenty Mythic-grade weapons of her own.
“White Night's gone out. Guess that's the end of it.”
“Where does she get off with a busted skill like that?”
“...I'm more shocked she has that many Mythic items.”
Edward stood, brushing off dust. A bit roughed up, but unharmed.
He walked past the chattering knights toward Sisilia, who looked innocently expectant.
“Sisilia.”
“Yes?”
She seemed to await praise. Edward flicked her forehead without mercy.
“Eek.”
For the record, her skull rang hollow.
* * *
“Let's recap the situation.”
In the command tent, Sisilia sniffled while Beatrice comforted her.
“Lumia's Authority is White Night. Her main spell copies and launches the enemy's weapons.”
“The problem is, those copies are probably every weapon she's seen in her long demon life.”
Sisilia raised her hand innocently.
“To be precise, every weapon that's hit her.”
“So the ones you threw became her full power, huh.”
Edward's lips twitched.
“Sisilia.”
Sisilia shook her head. “Nope. Mine are stronger, so she upgraded.”
“...Bragging much?”
Hyter's words made Sisilia rest a hand on her hip and smirk smugly.
“Not a compliment—don't get cocky!”
“Yesss...”
Sisilia deflated again.
Edward, already resigned, sighed lightly. “From earlier, it seems throwing equal-grade weapons can neutralize them somewhat. How many Mythics do you have left?”
“Three.”
“No easy options, then.”
“What if we draw her attention while Jerryway assassinates?”
“No, that endless day showed me— no shadows to sneak in.”
“Stealth impossible... Tricky foe.”
“Wind Shear?”
When things got complicated, eyes turned to Sisilia. She simplified everything.
Everyone looked her way; she shook her head. “As I said, probably useless against Lumia. I wasn't lying.”
“Real only when it counts.”
“Classic Sisilia.”
As groans filled the air, Edward glared at her. “One thing I want to know. How much do you really know about Lumia?”
“Everything except what I don't.”
Hyter muttered seriously. “Isn't that obvious?”
Edward was losing patience.
Of all times, she pulls that stunt.
Throwing expensive swords like arrows—unheard of for Edward.
Sisilia might look it, but she was an extreme romantic knight. Hated mages, loved pure fights with the strong. Above all, fair one-on-one duels.
—Always first to step forward for battlefield challenges.
No reason for her to chuck blades from afar.
...Unless she had an angle.
“Keep playing games here, and I won't let it slide as cuteness. Answer honestly, and you're forgiven.”
Sisilia covered her mouth, eyes darting.
She's scheming.
Hiding something again.
Thought she'd cute her way out.
The Windsors were convinced by her demeanor.
“Why throw the sword? Explain your intent clearly. Joke around, and no dessert for a while.”
“...!”
Sisilia's eyes widened. Beatrice slammed the table, standing.
“Th-That's too harsh!”
“Yeah. Cake's Sisilia's joy in life. Like telling me no gambling.”
“Cruel, Edward. You're serious?”
“...”
Edward pondered if mere dessert confiscation warranted this, but to Sisilia, it was mortal.
“...Fine. I'll tell everything—forgive me.”
She spoke glumly.
“The reason I threw the expensive sword at Lumia...”
“Reason?”
Gulps echoed in the tent.
Sisilia said, “To lure her out and gauge her.”
Come to think of it...
The Windsors exchanged looks.
—Sisilia had stated her goal upfront: learn Lumia's specialty.
Ridiculous method, but effective.
“...That's really all?”
Nod nod.
“Swear on everything—no, on Beatrice?”
“I could swear Betty ten times over.”
“Sisilia?”
Beatrice felt oddly hurt.
Edward's unease lingered, but he trusted her. They'd gleaned enemy intel, absurdly though.
“So we push the front to Lumia Castle after all.”
“Captain, it's tough. Too many demons and monsters. Beyond imagination.”
“Even reaching the castle, she's unbeatable. Knights vs. mage means cover—but White Night leaves nowhere to hide.”
Homing effect. No cover. Mythic-based fakes, each a nightmare.
And Replica might not be her only trick.
Reaching the castle was another ordeal. Eisenberg had poured everything to get this far.
The castle was a faint speck even to High Knight eyes.
“It'll cost rivers of blood. Even then, unsure if we reach—or beat—her. Duke won't greenlight this suicide op.”
Leo Ric crossed his legs; all nodded.
Lumia subjugation was premature.
Edward agreed, but asked Sisilia last. “Vice-Captain Sisilia. If we push now, odds of subjugating Lumia?”
“About 6%.”
6%. But withdrawing drops it further.
As Edward pondered, the tent flap burst open.
“Demon King's army advancing! Frontline barely holding—won't last. His Grace demands swift decision.”
“Swift decision means retreat?”
“If there's a way to take Lumia, he'll hold. Otherwise...”
Not even a retreat-hungry knight's plea changed the inevitable.
“...Windsors will cover the rear. Order withdrawal.”
* * *
The moment the Windsor Knights decided to retreat.
Riel awoke late at night.
“Ugh.”
She clutched her heart. Unexplained pain surged.
What happened? I was clearly...
Recalling: She'd confessed to Sisilia her desire to grow strong. Sisilia's aura shifted.
Then a chilling strike. Near-death blow, no prep.
“To unleash that without stance... Windsors really are another league.”
Yet Riel clenched her fist, thrilled.
“I'll get there too.”
The lofty peak wouldn't break her— it fueled conquest.
As Riel burned with resolve, noise outside drew her to the window.
“...Huh? It was night moments ago.”
Outside was unnaturally bright, like forgotten night.
Not illusion—people gathered in the nearby plaza, murmuring.
And then.
Shiiiiver.
“...!”
Goosebumps prickled Riel's arms. She leaped out, scanning.
Spotting a lady rushing, dress hem clutched, she called. “Miss!”
“Riel? What happened to you... No, not important. Where's Sisilia?”
“Ma'am, I don't...”
Bianca was off. Scanning restlessly mid-talk, sweat beading.
“M-May I ask what's wrong?”
Bianca swept anxious eyes around. “I was wrong. Those targeting the mana stone caravan weren't terrorists. Demons. One High Demon...”
Her gaze fixed on the plaza; she bit her lip white.
“Seven Deadly Sins, Greed.”
Riel looked. A fat man with alien aura stood at the podium, absent before.
And beside him, a pink-haired woman.
Bianca ground her teeth, mana rising.
“Seven Deadly Sins, Envy too.”
Fern gazed innocently at Bianca, mouth working.
In her hand: a severed woman's head.