Chapter 40 – Trapped Between Two Fronts

The Skybike’s engines die down as Kline glides into the borders of the Kingdom of Mana. The city feels too quiet.

He frowns, scanning the horizon.
“…Where the hell is everyone? The mana flow’s… twisted.”

The wind feels heavy, almost like a fog of confusion pressing against his skin. He raises his staff and mutters an incantation:
“Visio Tragwyddol.”

The world sharpens. Colors bleed into strange outlines—auras of conflict, chaotic strands of red and black coiling in one direction. His eyes narrow.
“…That mana… desperate, unstable. Whoever’s pulling those strings—”

He doesn’t know it yet, but it’s Aethone.

“Che. Can’t waste time. I need Fu Xi.”

When he reaches Fu Xi’s office, it’s empty. But a pulse of mana tugs his senses elsewhere. Kline pushes open a window, spots the source, and grins.
“Figures… the school. Guess I’m dropping in.”

He leaps from the sill, Skybike spiraling once before touching down.

The students gathered outside gasp as Kline lands with all the flair of a street performer.
“Yo! What’s up, everyone?”

Fu Xi turns, startled but quickly composed.
“Kline. What are you doing here?”

“Came to visit the old gang,” he smirks. “But seriously—something’s off. The mana feels… confused. And oh yeah, small newsflash: we’ve got two legions of demon troops marching this way.”

The air chills. Elysia’s eyes widen.
“Two… legions?”

“So that’s why Aethone’s acting so desperately…” Fu Xi mutters.

“Huh? What did I miss?” Kline scratches his head.

Mina explains everything—Alfian’s madness, Aethone’s influence, the chaos brewing in the school.

Kline whistles low.
“Wow. That’s… something. So that psycho Alfian’s not corrupted—he’s just a jackass. Raul though? Yeah, that guy’s a whole other level. Verica’s magic did a number on him.”

“Harsh, but true,” Oswald sighs.

“Really don’t care,” Kline shrugs. “Alfian needs therapy or a church. Raul? Needs an exorcism. Easy.”

Fu Xi cuts in.
“Aethone, then?”

Kline’s grin fades just slightly.
“…She’s different. Not corrupted. Zealous. Desperate. Like she’s chasing something she can’t catch. My guess? It ties back to her homeland… the one that started all this.”

The group falls silent. Even Elysia lowers her eyes.

Kline suddenly claps his hands.
“Enough doom talk. If two legions are marching here, we set the defense. Elysia!”

“Yeah?” She straightens.

“I think I’ve found clues on how the summoning works. And I’m almost sure Randy is—”

Elysia cuts him off. “Forget that for now. Survival comes first. The city only has a day, maybe two.”

“Fine, fine. Then let’s make it count.”

Kline looks up at the massive Sky Golem hovering above the city. He points his staff.
“Big guy, give me a hand. I’ll synthesize the materials, you do the heavy lifting. Deal?”

The golem raises its stone thumb.

Mina folds her arms. “What exactly are you planning?”

Kline grins, sharp as a fox.
“Heh. Just watch.”

The plan spreads fast: hidden turrets, scattered through forests and plains, synced with Randy’s tech.

Oswald steps up beside him.
“Need a hand?”

“Yep. You, me… and Elysia.”

“What about me?” Elysia raises a brow.

“You’ve got eighteen students you personally trained, right?”

“Yes, but… they’re too few.”

“Few? Pfft. Quality over quantity.” Kline smirks. “We’ll place them in ambush spots, forests, grasslands. They won’t fight head-on—they’ll stall, sabotage, bleed the legions dry with bombs and traps.”

Elysia freezes, then slowly smiles.
“…Guerrilla tactics. That’s my father’s way of war.”

“Oh? Guess Randy wasn’t bluffing when he said he learned from the best,” Kline chuckles.

“There’s more to Randy than any of you realize,” Elysia murmurs. “Even I don’t know the half of it… his uncle trained him relentlessly. Lessons every day, trials without warning.”

Oswald whistles.
“No wonder he always pulls through.”

Mina nods. “Randy’s uncle sounds… terrifying.”

Fu Xi suddenly laughs loud, deep from his chest.
“HAHAHA! I’d like to meet this uncle one day. Seems we’d have much to discuss.”

Elysia answers with rare warmth.
“He’d like to meet you too, Fu Xi. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Then it’s a deal!” Fu Xi grins.

As Elysia gathers her eighteen students, Kline and Oswald soar out on the Skybike, carrying materials for turrets. The Sky Golem marches behind, each step shaking the earth.

Meanwhile, Fu Xi raises his voice, commanding Raul and the knights.
“To the walls! Rally every sword and shield—we hold the line!”

The war drums are getting closer.

In the cold cellar beneath the palace, a single torch flickers against damp stone walls.

Alfian stirs awake, chained and sprawled on the floor. His voice bursts out, raw with fury:
“What the fuck?! Who the hell dares—?!”

“Pipe down!” one of the guards barks, slamming his spear against the bars.
“A traitor to the country has no right to scream!” another sneers.

Alfian’s lip curls, eyes burning with hatred.
“Ceh!! You pathetic weaklings… you couldn’t stop a child if your lives depended on it!”

The guards tense, but before they can reply—
Thud! Thud!

Both men collapse to the ground, unconscious.

A shadow steps into the dim light, heels clicking against the stone floor. Her presence is like a storm bottled into flesh.

Aethone.

Behind her, armored lady knights enter with silent precision, their eyes cold as steel.

Alfian smirks.
“…So, you finally came.”

Aethone doesn’t return the smile. Her voice is low, almost coaxing.
“Well then, Alfian. We don’t have time. My kingdom needs defenders. You will come with me.”

“But… I failed you,” Alfian admits, his voice cracking with frustration. “I didn’t gather the others like you asked…”

“You should be enough,” Aethone replies smoothly, though her eyes gleam with something unreadable.

She kneels, studying the glowing runes on the chains binding him. Her lips curve into a faint grin.
“Impressive… this isn’t ordinary binding. A sealing chain. Who conjured this?”

Her hands lift, weaving an incantation.
“Cairteil Briseadh air ais.”

The runes blaze before shattering like glass. The chains fall useless to the ground.

Alfian flexes his wrists, trembling—not from weakness, but from the realization.
“…They sealed my power. They knew. Someone knew I was dangerous.”

Aethone tilts her head. “And who was it?”

His eyes flash.
“Oswald. That bastard… he’s my next target. I’ll break him in half.”

Her expression never changes, though her smile deepens ever so slightly.
“Good. Hatred sharpens the blade. Then let’s leave. My kingdom’s defenses won’t hold themselves.”

Alfian throws back his head and laughs, his voice echoing against the walls.
“Hahahaha! I’m done playing with those cowards! I’ll go with you, Aethone! To hell with the rest!”

“Of course…” Her words are sweet, but her smile speaks a darker truth.

She raises her staff, chanting:
“Geata nan Tìr.”

Shadows twist into a vortex. Together, they vanish into the void.

Moments later—

Elysia and Mina rush into the cellar. Their breaths catch when they find the two guards unconscious, sprawled against the stone.

“…Too late,” Mina whispers, her tone grim. “Aethone’s already taken him.”

Elysia slams her fist against the wall, fury trembling in her voice.
“Dumb Alfian!! Always—always choosing the wrong path!”

Mina places a hand on her shoulder. “It’s not your fault. Don’t bear this alone.”

“No,” Elysia mutters, her eyes narrowing. “As president of the student council, this is my responsibility. If Aethone’s dragging him away… then she’s more desperate than I thought.”

Fu Xi enters behind them, his expression as calm as ever, though his eyes sharpen with resolve.
“Desperation makes saints into monsters. Let her play her hand. For now, our task is clear.”

Elysia straightens. “Defend the city.”

“Indeed,” Fu Xi nods.

Meanwhile—

Deep in the forest at the edge of the Kingdom of Mana, hammer strikes echo against steel. Sparks fly as Kline and Oswald finish their work.

Kline wipes sweat from his brow, grinning at the towering construct hidden among the trees.
“And there we go. Turret number one: ready to ruin someone’s day.”

Oswald whistles low, his eyes gleaming.
“This isn’t just a turret. This is artillery… anti-air, anti-siege… damn it, Randy. You really did your homework.”

The turret, cloaked by layers of camouflage and enchanted foliage, hums with mana. Even from the skies, it looks like nothing more than part of the forest.

The forest wind howls through the camouflaged clearing, the scent of steel and mana filling the air.

Kline leans on his staff, smirk widening.
“Yeah. Randy builds, I improvise. Together, we’re about to turn two legions into sitting ducks.”

Oswald adjusts his gloves, giving the newly constructed artillery a low whistle.
“Next placement?”

“Yup. Golem, you know what to do!” Kline waves, and one of the Sky Golems salutes in a stiff, mechanical motion before turning its crystal eyes toward the cannon. The machine kneels beside the artillery, glowing sigils spreading into the ground as it syncs for auto-command.

With that, Kline and Oswald kick off the earth, wings of mana flaring as they vanish into the night skies—off to the next hidden build site.

Back in the academy courtyard, the air is tense.

Elysia stands with her arms crossed, staring at the assembled students—her handpicked elite eighteen. The others watch nervously from the sidelines.

Marlisa fidgets with her chain, whispering to Elysia.
“So… it’s true? Alfian went AWOL?”

“Yeah.” Elysia’s jaw tightens. “…that jackass.”

Marlisa sighs, shaking her head.
“Huh… when will he ever learn?”

Elysia closes her eyes for a moment, whispering almost like a prayer.
“…I just hope he stays safe, wherever he is.”

Then she straightens, her tone firm again.
“Alright Marlisa, scan them. Let’s see where our hope lies.”

Marlisa raises her hand, her chains glowing as glyphs swirl in the air.
“Reveal!”

One by one, glowing panels of light flicker into being above each chosen student—stats, attributes, and class etched like divine scripture for all to see.

Kyle (Form 5)
Class: Divine Spearman
Level: S-Tier
Attributes:

Skills: Spear Mastery, Lightning Elements, Self-Healing, Limit Break

“Nice, Kyle!” Elysia grins. “You’ve got the same skill set as Raul!”

Kyle twirls his spear, sparks of lightning dancing off the tip.
“Heh! Can’t rely on Raul forever. I’ll carry the charge myself.”

Rizal (Form 5)
Class: Arcane Duellist
Level: S-Tier
Attributes:

Skills: Martial Arts Mastery, Iron Lung, Geomancy (Water & Earth), Chakra Healing

Elysia smirks. “Yo! I bet Oswald’s going to see you as a rival.”

Rizal flexes his biceps, veins glowing faintly with mana.
“Hah! We’re gym buddies. Iron sharpens iron!”

“Eww…” Marlisa mutters, rolling her eyes.

Lilika (Form 4)
Class: Elemental Archer
Level: S-Tier
Attributes:

Skills: Archery Mastery, Quad-Element Arrows (Fire, Water, Air, Earth), Eagle Eye, AoE Barrage

Elysia slaps her hand against Lilika’s. “Nice, Lilika!”

Lilika flushes, glancing away shyly.
“Uh… thanks, President.”

Wildad (Form 1)
Class: Men-at-Arms (Shieldbearer)
Level: S-Tier
Attributes:

Skills: Shield Mastery, Share Damage, One-and-Only, Becomes the Mountain

Elysia beams. “Nice, we’ve got a pure tank! Junior!”

Wildad bows, clutching his shield.
“Thanks, President! I’ll be your wall!”

Kevin (Form 3)
Class: Astrologician
Level: A+ Tier
Attributes:

Skills: Arcane Mastery, Rune Mastery, Wide-Range Chanting, Mana Self-Heal

“Nice!!” Elysia nods.

Kevin winks dramatically, pushing up his glasses.
“Don’t worry about support—I’ll light the stars for you all.”

Michael (Form 3)
Class: Fighter / Shieldman
Level: A+ Tier
Attributes:

Skills: Martial Arts Mastery, Share Damage, Unbreakable, Self-Healing

Michael gives a firm thumbs-up, his shield strapped to his arm like a second skin.

Lionel (Form 4)
Class: Paladin
Level: A+ Tier
Attributes:

Skills: Shared Damage, Lightbringer, Wide-Range Healing, Arts of War

“Woohoo!!” Elysia cheers.

Lionel groans, embarrassed.
“Geez, President… calm down…”

As the names roll on—Padel, Quill, William, Jake, Paul, Carol, Flint, Roland, Roslan—each one glows with potential. Not one of them below A-Tier.

Marian whispers, wide-eyed.
“They’re even stronger than Raul. Who trained them…?”

Rizal crosses his arms proudly.
“Dumbass—we trained ourselves.”

Wildad nods. “Yeah! Like we’d really trust that new teacher! Pfft.”

The students laugh, a small spark of morale flickering in the gloom.

But Elysia doesn’t laugh. She looks at them, her smile soft but heavy with responsibility.
“…You eighteen… you’re not just strong. You’re our vanguard. The storm is coming, and you’re the wall between this kingdom and annihilation.”

The wind carries Elysia’s words like a promise. For the first time, the courtyard feels alive—not with fear, but with defiance. The eighteen elites stand tall, their stats still glowing faintly in the air, like banners of hope.

Fu Xi strokes his beard, eyes gleaming.
“Looks like you’ve forged an army… out of just a handful.”

Elysia grins. “Told you—they’re my best.”

Nearby, Mina nudges Marian.
“Marian… your skillset. It matches mine.”

Marian gasps, stars in her eyes.
“Eh!? Really!? Finally! Someone who actually gets me!!”

Their excited chatter is cut short as a scout rushes forward, kneeling.
“Report! Lord Kline has already completed three turret placements.”

Elysia nearly jumps. “Damn, that fast!? He’s a maniac!”

Kyle laughs, spinning his spear.
“This is really like playing a strategy game!”

“Yeah!!! I know!!!” Elysia barks back, almost too excited.

Marlisa sighs, pushing her glasses up.
“Then let’s get on with it already!”

Footsteps echo as Raul approaches, armor clicking in time with his steady gait. He kneels before Fu Xi.
“My lord, the troops are ready.”

“Very well,” Fu Xi nods, turning toward the rally point.

But Raul lingers. His gaze sweeps across the group, his expression heavy.
“…Then… what will you say to me?”

Elysia tilts her head. “Huh?”

Raul bows deeply, fist pressed to his chest.
“…I am sorry. I failed as the class monitor. I failed to protect everyone. I… have no excuse.”

Marlisa folds her arms, sighing.
“Huh. Well… at least you finally apologized.”

Raul’s voice wavers. “I’m sorry about Randy most of all. I… truly felt he was the one we needed most here.”

The courtyard falls silent. Students lower their heads. The name Randy hangs like a ghost among them.

Only four know the truth—Elysia, Marian, Marlisa, and Oswald. Randy isn’t gone. Not yet.

Elysia breathes in, steadying herself.
“…Raul. As long as you understand the weight of this situation, that’s enough. I’ve chosen these eighteen to fight on the frontlines. But I need you to look after the others—the inexperienced ones. You’re the only one I trust with that.”

Raul’s lips tremble, but then a smile cracks through.
“…Yes. I’ll see to it.”

He stands, returning to his unit.

Marlisa leans close to Elysia, whispering.
“Do you really think Randy will come back?”

Elysia stares at the horizon.
“…I don’t know. But with Kline here, at least… we can hold.”

Marlisa nods softly. “Yeah… that’s enough for now.”

Marian suddenly throws an arm around them.
“Hey! Looks like we’re going to war again, huh!?”

“Don’t jinx it!!!” Elysia and Marlisa snap in perfect unison.

“Ehh!? Why am I always the bad guy!?” Marian pouts.

Even in the shadow of war, laughter breaks through—brief, fragile, but real.

Below the palace, staff and students scramble, herding civilians into underground shelters. The city braces for the storm.

In the Kingdom of Elysium

A different storm brews.

Alfian stands beside Aethone, his eyes wild, his hands trembling with restless bloodlust. Before them, a massive demon army stretches across the horizon—horns blaring, war drums pounding.

Aethone raises her staff. “Men! To the front!”

Alfian snarls, stepping forward.
“Leave them to me!!”

He launches into the fray like a beast unchained.

Aethone smirks, raising her hand. “Sgàthan Saoir Bhreis!”

Chains of magic shatter, and Alfian roars as power surges back into his veins. His aura swells, monstrous, drowning him in raw force. He tears through the front line like a wild boar, flesh and steel scattering in his wake.

“Hahahahahaha! Weaklings! Is this all you’ve got!?”

The ground quakes as he charges deeper—straight toward a lone figure.

A warrior stands calmly amid the chaos. Jet-black armor gleams, a katana resting loosely in his grip. His eyes, sharp and unwavering, fix on Alfian.

“…So. This is the one King Azrael warned me about.”

“Who the hell are you!?” Alfian roars, fist cocked back.

The man steps forward.
“Yasuke.”

Steel meets flesh. Alfian swings like a hurricane, fists pounding in relentless flurries. Yasuke parries with effortless grace, the katana’s arc leaving afterimages in the smoke.

“Shut up!!! Die!!!” Alfian bellows, his punches coming faster, like a machine gun of flesh.

But Yasuke doesn’t falter. His movements are precise, measured—like water flowing around rocks. Then, with a single motion, his blade slams into Alfian’s gut.

“Guh—!!” Alfian is sent flying, blood spraying.

He crashes into the dirt, coughing, stunned.

“What… the fuck… was that…”

The battlefield pauses as goblin musketeers kneel in formation. Rifles snap into place.

BANG!

Smoke erupts as bullets tear into the field. Alfian staggers, body riddled with pain.

Aethone clicks her tongue.
“…Pathetic. Realign the defense!”

But Alfian… stands again.

His body shakes. His vision blurs. Yet the fury inside him burns hotter.
“I’m not… done yet…!!!”

He explodes forward, smashing through the goblin line, eyes bloodshot, mouth twisted into a berserk grin.

“He’s like an animal,” Yasuke mutters, blade raised once more. “Not the man Lord Azrael described… but a rabid beast.”

They clash again—Alfian’s fists pounding with blind rage, Yasuke’s sword slicing with unshakable calm.

Then—CRACK! Yasuke drives his fist, not his sword, into Alfian’s chest.

The impact launches Alfian across the battlefield. He skids, broken, dirt and blood trailing behind.

For the first time, Alfian feels it.

The chill of death breathing down his neck.

A fear far worse than humiliation.
A terror sharper than any wound.

The realization strikes Alfian like a blade to the gut—
That he could die here.

The battlefield screams around him. Steel clashes, bodies fall, the stench of blood and smoke chokes the air. And then—

Another figure steps from the haze.

A woman—or at least, what looks like one. Slender, breathtakingly beautiful, her curves and grace mocking the battlefield around her. Yet her skin bears the green hue of goblinkind, her ears jagged, her eyes glowing with cruel delight.

Yasuke’s blade hums. Muramasa glows an ominous red and purple, volatile energy spiraling off it like a starving beast.
“The weakest always run away… Moonwhisper.”

The goblin beauty smiles, a voice like silk and venom.
“Cruel as ever, Yasuke.”

Yasuke tilts his blade, the aura devouring the very light around him.
“Muramasa is hungry. He needs more blood.”

He doesn’t even glance at Alfian. In a blur, Yasuke charges into the frontline. Soldiers scream as the crimson arc of Muramasa splits them apart like paper dolls.

And in a whisper Alfian barely hears—
“You are not worth my blade, child.”

The words cut deeper than steel.

The frontline collapses. Yasuke’s eyes glow faintly beneath his mask, cold and inhuman. Bodies fall in pieces. The air itself trembles.

Alfian stumbles back, bile rising in his throat. All around him—Elysium’s soldiers lie torn, dismembered, their cries fading into silence.

This… this isn’t a game. This is hell.

The wailing of the dying sears his ears. For the first time, Alfian feels what Randy always carried: the raw weight of survival. His knees shake. His fists tremble.

“Alfian!!! We need you here!!” Aethone’s voice snaps like thunder.

“F-Fine!!!” He leaps toward her, forcing his body to move. But when his boots hit the ground—

FOOM!

Yasuke is already there.

“Kaze no Tsurugi.”

The words slice the air, and the world explodes. A gale sharp as blades tears through the knights. Men are shredded like leaves in a storm, limbs flung into the sky, blood painting the ground in arcs.

“What magic is this!?” Aethone gasps, shielding herself with mana.

Alfian’s voice catches in his throat. His heart pounds like a drum. His vision narrows.

And then—he runs.

“EYARGHHHH!!! I’M TOO YOUNG TO DIEEEE!!!” Tears and snot stream down his face as he bolts, abandoning the line.

Pathetic. Cowardly. Human.

Aethone sighs, disgust flashing across her perfect face.
“Fool. Pathetic… yet useful.”

She lunges after him, gripping his arm.
“Rathad Luath!”

Light swallows them both. They vanish into the ether.

Yasuke halts, lowering Muramasa.
“…Not worth my time.”

Moonwhisper smirks, stepping through the carnage. Behind her, the ground trembles—giant goblin champions march forward, armored titans of green flesh and steel.

“The battle is already won,” she purrs. “Even without us lifting a finger.”

Yasuke wipes his blade clean, voice low.
“I wait for a worthy challenge. But there is none… not yet.”

Elysium burns.

Villages collapse under fire. Cities scream. Children wail as the demon legions spread like wildfire.

Inside the palace, Aethone seals the gates. Alfian sits in a corner, rocking back and forth, clutching his head. His bravado is shattered, his voice a broken record.
“I don’t want to die… I don’t want to die… Dad… help me…”

Pathetic sobs echo against the cold stone walls.

Aethone ignores him, striding toward a great chamber.

Her fingers brush the surface of a massive crystal embedded in the wall. Symbols ignite, ancient and divine.

She chants, her voice reverberating through the palace halls.
“Dùthcha Solais… Cairg Cairn!”

FWOOOOOM!

A blinding radiance explodes outward, bathing the palace in searing light. Pillars shake, banners shred in the wind of raw energy.

Above, the sky cracks.

From the heavens descends a colossal figure—metal wings stretching wide, gears grinding like thunder. Its head is no helm, but a fortress. Its eyes glow like suns.

A mechanical giant. A fortress given form.

Aethone kneels, arms wide, her voice trembling with awe.
“Come forth… Archangel.”

The land itself quakes as the machine god descends.

To be continued….