Elian’s POV
*****
[WARNING: Host’s protection barrier spell used up 50% of his mana reserves. Ti for beginner-level mana cores’ full recharge: Five hours.]
’Fuck sideways!’ he cursed, subtly flicking his wrists.
The purple magic bubble dissipated into specks of light which fell like snow around him and Lucian. And as for the Alpha Prince...
’Do you think Lucian noticed it was ?’
[Aw, would you look at that? Soone suddenly cares about keeping his secrets during a life and death situation.]
Elian grunted, deciding on the next course of action.
He collapsed to the ground, his eyes fluttering like he’d fainted.
"Elian!" Lucian rushed to him in a blink, grabbing him firmly. "Are you... What the heck just happened?"
Elian grunted, gripping Lucian’s shirt—all while keeping his eyes glued to their surroundings. They were shielded under smoke but he could still spot the silhouettes of their attackers moving like phantoms.
’Triangulate the exact location of the bastards and tell how many there are. I’ll co up with a lie for Lucian.’
[Ouu, go general fruitcake! Loading scanners now...]
"I... I’m fine." Elian smiled wryly, pressing his face against Lucian’s chest. "I told you... Those guys aren’t going to kill . One of them probably created the force bubble to shield from the blast."
Unfortunately, Lucian didn’t seem too convinced, squinting. "That doesn’t even make any sense. They were moving so fluidly. How could they make such a—"
Suddenly, a gust of wind blew through the area, dispersing the smoke until they had no cover.
[Scanning complete. There are eleven of them—scattered around us. Five are witches, six wolves, and one of the witches even has an Ascendant-level mana core.]
An Ascendant-level mana core...
That was two levels above a beginner core!
"Capture the target!" A male voice yelled out.
The area was now almost empty of people. Most of them had already fled the scene, while so who couldn’t run lingered, hiding behind buildings or stalls a distance away.
Elian’s jaw clenched as he pulled away from Lucian, getting on his feet. His eyes locked on a man with a black hooded cloak, black smoke surrounding him and taking the shape of tendrils.
[There’s our Ascendant-level witch. Unlike a beginner and interdiate, their bodies have been refined by their mana core. His physical stats are similar to those of an average werewolf.]
An average werewolf, eh?
His lips curled into a sly smirk. His physical stats were beyond even most soldier-level wolves now.
[Slow your horses, champ. There are ten more of them. The wolves are all at the soldier level and have weapons. The other witches are beginner cores and also have weapons.]
"Elian Ashford!" The cloaked man suddenly spoke, raising his right hand slowly.
Black smoke snaked around his wrist like it was alive, his body pulsing with enough magic to make Elian’s hair stand on end all the way here.
Lucian took a step forward, stretching out his twin plasma blades and shielding Elian. "The next words out of your mouth should be a fucking apology. Maybe then I’ll consider slitting your throat instead of torture."
The sound of boots approaching from different corners made Elian look around. The other Dark Hand soldiers were split up, surrounding them in a deliberate circle.
Elian couldn’t help swallowing hard, his previous bravado simring like smoke when he saw their laser guns, electric spears and other weapons they wielded like accessories.
[I guess now’s the ti to sing Kumbaya. But fret not! You still have a mid-level Alpha beside you.]
"You think you have things under control, Alpha Prince?" The cloaked man sounded genuinely curious.
Lucian snapped his neck. "You’re in my city. Close to my palace. Palace guards will be here any second—"
"Yet we were able to cause so much chaos in ’your city’." The witch sniggered, twirling his fingers around. "What makes you so sure that we can’t just snatch what we ca here for and be on our rry way?"
Elian could feel Lucian’s rage pulsing through the Bond like a bomb waiting to explode.
Wait... The Bond!
He still has access to ten per cent of Lucian’s powers.
[And tell how you hope to use them without suspicion? Your lie earlier wouldn’t have even worked on a hungover old man sniffing moon dust.]
"And what did you co here for?" Lucian asked with a yell. "What does your twisted organisation want with Elian?"
Silence.
Elian tensed, keeping his gaze glued on the Dark Hand soldiers. The system also showed a screen in front of him, placing tabs on every movent.
"I believe the Oga already knows." The cloaked man’s face was hidden but Elian could almost visualise the grin underneath the hood.
Lucian stiffened, blades humming with plasma energy. "That’s it," he hissed. "You’re done talking."
But before he could make his move, gold light flashed across the street—
One, two, three—then dozens of Lunarian palace guards began blipping into the chaos through teleportation seals.
The air trembled with their arrival. Each soldier wore glimring gold armour etched with lunar glyphs, rifles charged with concentrated mana cells.
"Protect the Prince and the Oga!" one of the captains barked, his voice cutting through the smoke.
Blinding rays of light streaked across the battlefield. Two Dark Hand soldiers went down instantly—charred black where the beams hit. The rest hissed and scattered, using the debris for cover.
Lucian raised a hand, eyes blazing silver. "No survivors—"
But before his command could take full shape, the cloaked witch slamd his palm into the ground. Shadows burst outward, twisting and folding into several oval shapes—portals, rimd in deep red energy.
"Not today, Prince of Lunaria," he called, his laughter like gravel scraping tal. "We’ll be seeing the moon’s blessed very soon."
"Damn it!" Lucian lunged forward, but the portals snapped shut one after another, leaving only the echo of his curse hanging in the air.
For a mont, the world was still again—broken stalls, scorched pavent, civilians sobbing from behind cover.
Lucian exhaled sharply, the fury in his eyes enough to make even the palace guards take a cautious step back.
"Lock down this entire sector," he ordered. "I want no civilians, no reporters—nothing. This never happened until I say it did. And soone get the palace’s top tech division. I want those portal coordinates traced yesterday."
"Yes, Your Highness!"
The guards moved instantly, sealing off the area with shimring barricade dos.
Lucian turned then to Elian, crouching beside him. The heat in his tone softened. "Are you okay?"
Elian nodded quickly, forcing a shaky smile. "Yeah. I think so."
Lucian searched his face for a mont longer before his brows furrowed. "That cloaked bastard—he ntioned you. Like he knew exactly who you are. Then said sothing about the moon’s blessed."
Elian’s pulse stuttered. His system screen blinked faintly at the corner of his vision.
[Warning: High emotional fluctuation detected. Recomnd neutral response.]
"I... I don’t know," he muttered, keeping his eyes down. "Maybe he was just trying to be vague? To throw us off. The Dark Hand do seem skilled in that."
Lucian didn’t look convinced, but he let it go—for now. He straightened, his voice low but sharp.
"I’m contacting the Arcadian council and their High Matron. Sothing’s not right. The Dark Hand keeps showing up with mostly witches. That can’t be a coincidence."
Elian’s heart dropped. "You think Arcadia’s helping them?"
"I hope not," Lucian said, sliding his blades back into their holsters. His tone was cold and commanding. "Because if they are, we’re standing on the edge of a war no one’s ready for."
His gaze shifted to the blood-stained streets around them, then back to Elian.
"And I’ll burn down every shadow between here and Arcadia before I let them take you."
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