Our Only Hope #1
The battle raged on. It continued without respite until dawn broke. With superhuman willpower and physical prowess, they held out, desperately felling the beasts one after another.
Needless to say, the fighters were in wretched shape.
"Hah... haha..."
"Rex! Stay with us. Priest! Healing magic here—now!"
"Over here too—it's urgent! We're short on hands... people are dying!"
Vomiting blood and driven mad, casualties mounted by the second. Yet despite the immense sacrifices, the monster remained unscathed. Its movements had slowed, and unhealed wounds dotted its body here and there, but at this rate, the humans would be annihilated first.
Even in this hopeless quagmire, humanity's fighting spirit surged endlessly.
"Does that thing really have no weaknesses?"
"If the only answer is overwhelming power to cleave right through it..."
"That means we need a 7th Circle mage or a Sword Master with an aura blade—and there aren't any nearby."
Jacob Logan and Iron Hanma, the master of the Iron Tower, exchanged words as they gazed down at the battlefield below, their faces etched with despair. The elderly men's sacrifices could be glorified as noble, but the deaths of young cadets, mages, and priests were a gut-wrenching loss.
They had to prevent that at all costs. Which meant somehow taking down that monster—and fast.
Jacob drew his sword, his expression resolute.
"I'll carve out its heart. I've studied Bahamut in ancient texts before."
"Then who leads the troops? Hold on just a bit longer. Something will turn up."
"At this rate, we'll all die! We don't have time!"
Jacob snapped in frustration, but Iron Hanma placed a hand on his shoulder. In such crises, a commander's judgment was paramount. Proper orders and leadership could minimize casualties, even save one more life.
Calming his fury with effort, Jacob sighed while eyeing Bahamut's movements. How could he not understand the frustration? The Tower Master had been anxiously awaiting his overdue disciple for hours, swallowing his impatience.
'Damn kid, when are you coming?'
Still, duty called. Donning his armor, he hefted his shield. Jacob gaped as the Tower Master, who'd told him to stay back, prepared to charge the front lines.
"Tower Master, you're going your—"
"Duncan will handle command here. With other Tower Masters present, it'll be fine."
"It's too dangerous!"
"Heh, I'm a battle mage."
His white hair flowed thickly, but his physique rivaled a knight in his prime. Iron Hanma was a mage born for the front lines, crushing foes firsthand. Command didn't suit his temperament; his body itched for action.
"Time for a rotation. Pull back the troops and regroup."
"...Understood."
The Iron Tower and its battle mages—long dismissed by all. Today, he'd shatter that outdated prejudice right here.
"Hurry up and get here, kid."
His goal: hold out until Lawrence arrived.
BOOM!
The Tower Master's form rocketed toward Bahamut.
#2
Rocks and dirt pattered down from above. Lawrence's rust-red hair had turned ashen with dust, but his hands never stopped.
Pitch darkness, no light penetrating. Only faint scraping sounds echoed within.
'How much time has passed?'
He couldn't tell. He poured every moment into focus, moving his hands, comprehending the magic circle.
The artifact was nearly complete. Never had he worked in such dire conditions, yet he felt on the cusp of a breakthrough.
"It's... collapsing...!"
"...!"
A muffled voice from directly above. Footsteps thundered.
This was the building's basement. Time was truly running out.
Thump, thump—his heart pounded. Pinned in a corner, survival instincts kicked in. Lawrence's hands accelerated.
"Whew... almost done."
Steady breaths. Faster movements.
No one knew Lawrence was still here.
Meanwhile.
Prince Shayan Deferter spotted a suspicious building. Its entrance had collapsed, but it looked too deliberate for beast or undead rampage.
"Clear the entrance."
"Yes, sir!"
"No, I'll do it myself."
Traces of internal collapse. No dust or grime buildup. Meaning it had caved recently.
A rat had been here. Expressionless, he began chanting.
'Like the mining village... Is that bastard Lawrence the wildcard?'
Failure had sharpened his senses. Nothing in the mining village. By the time he'd crawled through the filthy sewer, the relic was gone.
Which meant the same could happen here. No room for a second failure. Another miss would jeopardize inheriting his great family's power.
Ice Blast
BOOM! Ice shards exploded like shells.
The building's entrance lay wide open. There had to be a reason for the barricade.
Footsteps crunched loudly on stones in the darkness.
"Seems empty, sir."
"Search every inch."
"Yes, sir!"
No one questioned Prince Shayan. That was survival in Deferter territory.
The mage escort guards moved in unison.
"Light it up. Light!"
Flash! The area blazed bright. Spherical orbs poured light from the spell.
Visibility secured, they scoured more thoroughly. Soldiers smashed furniture, probing for hides.
Prince Shayan scanned sharply too.
Then—a sound tickled his ear.
Scrape.
Scrape, scrape.
'Where's it coming from?'
Above? Below? Behind the wall? Unmistakably alien.
He raised a hand, halting everyone. He sharpened his senses, focusing on the noise.
Scrape, scrape.
It persisted. Faint, but growing. He traced it to the source.
Stomping the floor yielded not solid stone, but an odd echo.
"Here."
Scrape!
It stopped. His hand moved.
No escape tunnel. Even if, it'd be a trapped rat.
Clunk! The door swung open, revealing a secret passage.
This was a relief center for distributing aid to the slums. The warehouse lay exposed.
"Storm it."
"Yes, sir!"
Troops poured into the basement passage. Prince Shayan followed swiftly.
But—
"...No one's here?"
"..."
Crackle.
Signs of life, sounds—yet vanished. An eerie aura prickled around Prince Shayan.
A quick-witted soldier moved. "I'll check for other passages!"
"No need."
His eyes chilled. Crunch.
He seized a nearby soldier's nape.
"Guhk..."
"Withdraw."
Snap, crunch! The victim bit his tongue and died, vent for his rage.
Prince Shayan flung the crumpling corpse aside and exited.
'Where'd it flee?'
No passages visible. Yet gone. He demolished the entire building. No escape if hiding from his eyes.
Rumble! Dust billowed from the ruins.
"Young master, we should pull out now."
"...Fine."
Time to regroup for the next phase. Witnesses didn't matter; countermeasures were ready.
Prince Shayan and surviving mages withdrew swiftly.
And someone watched it all.
"Close call. A bit later and it'd have been trouble."
Where the monster lurked, where Deferter moved—all visible. Lawrence stood there.
He itched to rush and decapitate him now. But the time wasn't right.
'Clean your neck and wait.'
Not just them—the upper echelons too, for a clean sweep. Artifact hunt failed; next would be bigger.
"Gotta raid their site. If only I could snag Media Montemer too..."
Lawrence smacked his lips, eyeing Deferter's retreat. The monster, Bahamut, took priority now—for the larger picture, he'd let them go.
They had no clue their atrocities were already public.
#3
Short-Range Spatial Leap
Remaining Uses: 2/3
Recharge: 3 days
The message and ability appeared the instant the artifact finished. Clunk—door opening, he activated it, slipping out swiftly.
A little later and it'd have been a bloodbath.
His first unique ability: Short-Range Spatial Leap [Blink].
Yeah. A mage had to have tricks like this. Recharging every three days, it'd be his ace.
'And the second...'
Space Severing
Remaining Capacity: 3/3
Three uses of space severing. With a 5th Circle medium, it could fully activate—a proper spell.
In the past, he'd repelled with this... but.
'Feels oddly twisted...'
The words he'd heard before clashed with current info. Was this the distortion?
Grow stronger, get closer to truth.
'Time to go.'
BOOM! Blue mana solidified, baring fangs at the monster. The hue and pattern—familiar.
Iron Tower's master. His mentor.
"Hold on just a bit longer, sir."
Whoosh!Lawrence's form sliced through the city.