Blizzard Day
At that exact moment, a blizzard slammed into us. The mages' vision flashed white for an instant. Then, from that white void, David burst through the snowstorm like a human missile.
The mage on the left hugged the one on the right and whispered a rapid incantation. Crimson light raced across the sky, weaving an invisible barrier.
'He's slower than Damien,' I thought, a smirk tugging at my lips.
David refused to slow down. Damien's shield had appeared in a blink, but this one's was still forming—a small glow tracing the boundary line at blinding speed. Once the line was complete, the shield would activate.
The light had summoned above us, so David dropped his torso, bent his knees, and spun right, diving in.
After only two full rotations, he reached the outer edge of the barrier and naturally laid his blade flat against it. The glowing line raced straight at his sword and tore right through.
The instant the light popped and vanished, the nearly finished red line disappeared.
“You little brat!” the mage roared.
It was a bit early to be truly angry. David brought his blade vertical and struck upward. He shoved the mage he’d been holding toward the opposite side and backed away fast, but his blade was faster. It carved a long red line from the man’s elbow all the way to his shoulder blade.
“Aaaah—!” the mage screamed and tumbled across the ground.
Magic demands flawless concentration from the caster. While he was in pain from a severed arm, he couldn’t cast. David didn’t care if he screamed or not. He slid his sword along his hip, planted one foot, and spun.
He was about to drive the blade straight into the fallen mage when a spear of light materialized. David rolled aside, but the spear hit instantly and sliced deep into his sleeve and shoulder.
The pain was so intense I almost laughed. David wasn’t a knight who’d grown numb to suffering. If he hadn’t, he’d be doing the exact same thing the mage was—tumbling on the ground.
Feeling his tattered sleeve soaked through with blood, David rose, ran at the mage, and drove his sword straight into the man’s solar plexus. The mage’s eyes bulged.
He was still whispering the incantation, mouth wide open and jaw trembling. He never finished the words before he collapsed.
The first mage, barely used to pain yet, dragged himself away, limping toward the trees.
David stuck out his tongue and licked his own lip, staring at the fleeing mage like a predator. The man shrank back.
“This… unfortunate accident,” David said coldly.
The mages I’d summoned were definitely real. Why on earth would mages wander into a holy place like the Grand Hall?
Bertrand always said, “Mages treat the world outside the Magic Tower like death. Most never leave once they step inside.” There was no room for doubt.
“An accident? You dare turn the Magic Tower into your enemy and still expect to walk away alive?” the mage snarled.
“Well, if you keep talking like that, I might not be able to save you after all.”
David’s eyes gleamed. The mage gasped for air, barely holding on to his life. Blood loss, blurry vision, and the room spinning—he was one step from passing out.
He couldn’t fall. Even if the killer left him alive, he’d die without healing magic.
“I have no choice.”
While the mage was distracted, David spun his blade like a flail. He flicked his wrist, then used his whole forearm to make a perfect circle—over and over, faster and faster.
As if the sword were a living thing chasing him, he walked slowly toward the mage.
The blade spun several times, was thrown, and fell. David snatched the hilt without looking, and the sword streaked straight at the mage.
The mage screamed as the blade cut a long arc. After one final slash across the sky, he collapsed, the space between his legs soaking through. Hair rained down like rain in front of his eyes.
“Tell your Tower Lord. The Holy Maiden does not tolerate rudeness.”
David limped back into the temple, shoulder still bleeding.
“Who did this?” he demanded.
Even if Damien hadn’t healed him, I had potions. He wasn’t in real danger. But most temples had neither potions nor Damien. David had nearly died.
I had to know who dared harm the second son of Danier and my family. David kept his mouth shut.
“David!”
From childhood, David had always obeyed me. But there were rare moments when he wouldn’t. Usually when my safety was involved. Once he decided, no amount of pleading would open his lips.
That was when Damien spoke.
“The Magic Tower?”
His voice carried absolute certainty. He shrugged when I turned to look at him.
“Everyone has a unique magical signature. The one that touched David belongs to someone I know. Fourth Disciple.”
“Fourth Disciple?”
“Isabel Confino has ten disciples. Originally twelve, but two are dead, so now ten. They control everything for the Magic Tower. The Fourth Disciple is like the royal steward—second only to the king.”
David and I stared at Damien at the same time. The royal steward moves with the king.
What was the biggest duty of the royal steward? Moving, setting up, and managing the palace when the king travels. He can never leave the king’s side.
My father was similar. In some ways he was even closer to the king than the steward. My father often served as an ambassador showing the king’s power, but the steward almost never left for any reason.
So…
“Confino has arrived?”
If you’d grown up in a family close to the palace, you’d reach the same conclusion.
When I looked at David, he grinned.
“I didn’t know they’d already come… I thought I’d only send one disciple. I was just supposed to warn the Holy Maiden to behave.”
David admitted with a sheepish face that he’d taken out one mage and simply sent another away.
He figured Confino, thinking he was sending only mages, would pass the message to the Holy Maiden—come yourself. The time it would take for a mage to report back to the Magic Tower and for Confino to return to the Mount of Light was too long. That’s why he’d tried to buy time.
He didn’t say what he planned to do with the time, but I could guess. He probably wanted to drag me to Danier by force if necessary.
While we all fell silent, lost in our own thoughts, I suddenly felt a strange warmth.
It was hotter than usual. The house had always been warm, but right now it was definitely too warm.
Why? I tilted my head curiously. Then Damien suddenly opened his eyes wide and shouted, “Confino has come! David!”
Fully healed by healing magic, David sprang up from the bed like a jack-in-the-box and slung Petia onto his shoulder.
As he moved, Damien sang a quick melody softly, his eyes on me. Blue light enveloped me. When he sang it again, the light wrapped around David and Petia too.
Damien kicked off the floor and soared into the sky, summoning a crimson spear toward the opposite wall from the door.
The roof collapsed with a thunderous roar, and the crimson spear smashed straight through the back of the hut. The walls exploded outward as roaring flames revealed the burning temple beyond.
“The little brat is insane!” a woman’s voice rang out. Isabel Confino.
The only woman who could call Damien a “little brat” while he was tearing through the roof was either the Tower Lord or a bigger problem.
David ran toward the hole Damien had made, Petia on one shoulder, my wrist in the other.
As we ran, I looked up and saw red orbs hurtling toward Damien.
My feet stopped, but David yanked me hard.
“If you stop, Damien keeps fighting. Run!”
Only then did I realize Damien was hovering on the roof, desperately holding the line. I turned and ran with everything I had.
Gods… I begged the unseen deity. Please save Damien.
I had never felt so powerless. Tears streamed down my face.