Tirnanog

Another expedition was underway. Sarevsael, ever the leader, stood at the forefront, his wings stretched wide as he prepared for the mission. Alongside him were Fort and Rooks, as well as a few other knights—Grade 1s and 2s—who had been assigned to this operation. This time, the goal was to gather more resources and increase Ketergia's control over the surface.

As the group assembled, two figures stood out. Tranquilia, a Grade 1 knight, had long, fluffy white hair that cascaded down his back. He wielded a spear with great confidence, always admiring himself in his mirror, even while on duty. His narcissistic nature made him seem out of place among the more serious knights, but his combat prowess was undeniable.

"Do you see this, Rooks?" Tranquilia said, twirling his spear in a fluid motion. "It's incredible, isn't it? Look at this hair, this form! Only someone as magnificent as me could carry such a weapon with elegance."

Rooks merely gave him a disinterested glance, but Sarevsael seemed to be amused. "Focus, Tranquilia," he warned, the sarcasm clear in his voice. "We have a mission to complete."

Soudios, a quiet Grade 2 angel, stood off to the side. His longbow was slung across his back, and he had a calm, almost distant aura around him. His expression rarely changed, and he spoke only when necessary. It was clear that his silence came from his intense focus, his mind always calculating the best way to strike.

Fort, still deep in thought after his last encounter with Youth, glanced at the group, his gaze lingering on Soudios. He couldn't help but feel uneasy, but he kept his thoughts to himself. He had a job to do, and it was time to push forward.

Sarevsael addressed the group as they prepared to leave. "We'll gather the resources quickly and make sure Ketergia's hold over the surface is absolute. I don't care what it takes. We are doing this for the glory of Ketergia and its ruler, Bastion."

Tranquilia smiled, admiring his reflection in his spear. "Oh, I'm sure the peasants will be pleased to see my majestic presence."

Soudios didn't respond, as always, but his fingers gently brushed against his bow, preparing for whatever action might arise. The other knights set out, moving towards the surface with a sense of purpose, though their personalities couldn't have been more different.

The expedition proceeded as it always did: Sarevsael led the charge, directing the knights to raid another village, take the resources, and destroy whatever they couldn't carry. The villagers were forced to watch as their homes were set on fire, and their livelihoods were stolen from them. The knights, including Fort and Rooks, remained largely silent as the flames roared, but the looks on their faces told a different story. Fort's face was twisted with disgust, and Rooks's brow furrowed, though he said nothing. Both knew this was wrong, but neither was willing to defy Sarevsael's orders—at least, not yet.

"Another perfect execution," Sarevsael said smugly, watching as the flames consumed the village. "These weaklings will learn their place."

Tranquilia, ever the narcissist, was too busy admiring himself in his spear's reflection to notice the destruction around him. Soudios, standing off to the side, was motionless, as usual, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon. His silence, however, was interrupted when a sudden movement caught his attention. In the distance, a group of figures were approaching rapidly.

"Sarevsael," Soudios said, his voice low but commanding. "Incoming. Rebels."

The rebels were led by none other than Youth, his spear glinting in the light of the burning village. Alongside him was Vriede, the half-wolf woman, her muscles taut as she prepared for battle. Schneizal and Sequana followed closely, both of them clearly ready to face the knights. A handful of other rebels flanked them, all carrying mallee and Bow weapons and determination in their eyes.

Schneizal, ready for a fight, readied his sword. "Let's see if your Grade 1 knights are ready for this."

Sequana opened her grimmoir, her magic swirling around her as she prepared to unleash a spell. "I won't let you harm anyone else."

As the rebels moved forward, the knights began to form their positions. Fort and Rooks stood near the back, watching the approaching group. Fort clenched his fists, his anger rising as he watched the destruction they had caused. Rooks, however, stepped forward slightly, his spear ready but his expression unreadable.

Meanwhile, Vriede and Schneizal took on other knights, their fighting styles complementary. Vriede's raw strength and Schneizal's precision made for a deadly combination, forcing their opponents to retreat step by step. Sequana's magic disrupted the knights' formations, blasting them with bolts of energy that disoriented them.

Sarevsael, who had been observing the battle, decided to join in. He launched himself into the air, his double-edged lance glowing with power. "Time to end this," he declared, diving towards the rebels with a powerful strike aimed at Youth.

The battlefield was a scene of chaos and destruction, with the flames from the burning village licking the sky and the sounds of clashing weapons filling the air. Youth and Rooks stood at the center of it all, locked in a fierce duel. Their weapons clashed again and again, each strike echoing with raw power. They were evenly matched now, far different from their first encounter.

"What the hell?" Rooks grunted as he parried Youth's spear with his own. "Looks like you leveled up your strength."

"I'm a quick learner," Youth responded, his voice filled with determination as he pressed the attack. Each strike was faster, sharper than the last, and his focus was unwavering.

The two warriors danced across the battlefield, each pushing the other to their limits. Rooks was strong, but Youth's resolve was fiercer, and it was clear that the gap between them had closed drastically since their last fight. Neither seemed willing to give an inch as they traded blows, the air crackling with tension.

Meanwhile, Sarevsael, watching the two fight, was having his own fun. He tore through the rebel ranks with ease, his arrows finding their marks and cutting down those who dared to resist. His arrogance was palpable as he surveyed the battlefield.

"This is pathetic," Sarevsael scoffed, shooting another volley of arrows into the fleeing rebels. "You're all nothing but vermin."

Schneizal, however, had other plans. He charged at Fort, ready to put an end to this fight. Their swords clashed, steel ringing out as sparks flew. Fort's strikes were wild and uncoordinated compared to Schneizal's precision, and despite his best efforts, he was quickly overpowered.

"You're weak," Schneizal said, knocking Fort's sword from his hand and sending him stumbling back. "You never stood a chance."

Fort's face twisted in frustration as he fell to the ground, defeated. He glared at Schneizal, but said nothing. The reality of his powerlessness stung, and he was left to watch as the battle continued.

Tranquilia, a Grade 1 knight, stood frozen on the sidelines, his eyes wide with fear. He watched as his comrades fell, and his body trembled in terror. "No... no way," he muttered, before turning and fleeing the battlefield. "I'm not dying here!"

The battle was turning against the knights, but Youth remained locked in a deadly struggle with Rooks. The air crackled with tension as their weapons clashed, each strike faster and more precise than the last. Youth moved with an uncanny fluidity, his spear an extension of his body, each thrust and parry executed with inhuman speed. It was as if something deep within him had finally awakened.

Yet Rooks refused to yield. Gritting his teeth, he fought back with every ounce of strength he had left, determined to prove his superiority. But no matter how hard he tried, Youth's relentless assault pushed him back. Then, with a powerful strike, Youth sent Rooks skidding across the battlefield, his boots digging furrows into the dirt.

Rooks barely managed to stay on his feet, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "What the…?" he gasped, disbelief flashing in his eyes.

But Youth wasn't done. His gaze sharpened, and an eerie glow flickered in his eyes. The hidden power within him surged forward—his right eye, the one obscured by the eyepatch, pulsed with a sinister red light. A strange aura radiated from his body, distorting the very air around him. The X mark that had manifested in his previous battle ignited with a fierce glow, bathing him in an ominous crimson hue.

"It's time for the sky to fall," Youth murmured, his voice like a whisper carried on the wind.

Rooks took an involuntary step back, a chill racing down his spine. "What… What is this?"

Before anyone could react, a dark energy erupted from Youth's body. Shadowy armor materialized over his form, sleek and menacing, its crimson veins pulsating like molten fire. His right eye, now fully exposed, burned with an ethereal X-shaped glow.

From the edge of the battlefield, Sarevsael, who had been watching with mild amusement, suddenly leaned forward, his interest piqued. His golden eyes gleamed as a smirk curled his lips. "What the—? This energy… it feels like…"

Rooks swallowed hard. "This… this power… It's like I'm fighting a Grade 3…"

Youth now stood like a harbinger of destruction, his presence suffocating. A sword materialized in his grasp, dark energy crackling along its blade. The sheer sight of him sent an instinctual shudder through Rooks. This wasn't the same opponent he had been fighting moments ago.

Sarevsael stretched his wings, his grin widening. "Finally," he murmured, rolling his shoulders. "This battle finally gets interesting."

He stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate. "Alright then, rebel trash," he called out, amusement lacing his tone. "Let's see what you've really got."

Youth's aura intensified, swirling around him like a raging storm. Gone was the hesitant boy, the one uncertain of his own strength. In his place stood a warrior with unwavering resolve.

Sarevsael laughed, spreading his wings wide. "I like this. Let's see if you can actually back up that confidence, kid."

With that, they clashed.

The battlefield trembled beneath their blows. Youth and Sarevsael were a blur of movement, their strikes colliding with explosive force. Shockwaves rippled outward, sending debris flying. Sarevsael, airborne, danced through the sky with unnatural grace, unleashing volleys of arrows faster than the human eye could follow.

From the sidelines, Fort muttered under his breath, "He's like a flying machine gun. No wonder they made him a Royal Knight."

Despite his newfound strength, Youth struggled against the relentless barrage. Sarevsael's speed was overwhelming. An arrow sliced through the air, embedding itself in Youth's shoulder. Pain flared, but he didn't falter. More arrows followed, piercing through his armor, drawing blood.

Sarevsael smirked. "You're strong, but you'll never catch me."

Youth gritted his teeth, lunging forward. Sarevsael merely laughed, firing another barrage. "This ends now!"

Youth deflected what he could, but the storm of arrows proved too much. 

Sarevsael then chants his last move.

"Carmina caelorum" 

One final shot struck him square in the chest, sending him crashing into the ground, a massive crater forming beneath him.

"YOUTH!" Schneizal's voice rang out.

Dust and smoke billowed from the impact site. Sarevsael hovered above, arms crossed. "Survived, huh?" He descended slowly, a mocking smile playing on his lips. "No one's ever lived through that attack… until now."

Beneath the cracked mask of his armor, Youth's left eye analyzed the situation, cold and calculating. His breathing was ragged, his body trembling from pain, but he wasn't done.

A sudden battle cry split the air.

"RAHHHHHHH!"

Schneizal charged, sword raised high, but Sarevsael sidestepped with ease. Schneizal's blade bit into the earth, missing its mark.

"So fast…" Schneizal muttered, eyes wide.

Sequana fired a volley of magic, but Fort intervened. The two clashed, spells colliding in bursts of energy. Meanwhile, Rooks rushed toward Youth, spinning his spear with deadly precision.

With a battle cry, Rooks unleashed his strongest attack. "Lansæa Caely!"

His spear glowed a brilliant blue, slicing through the air with devastating force.

Youth's response was immediate. From the void, a sword of crimson energy materialized in his grasp. With a single swing, he intercepted Rooks' strike, the impact sending sparks flying.

Rooks' eyes widened. "That was my strongest attack… and he blocked it?" His grip on his weapon tightened. "There's no doubt… he's a Grade 3."

The aura around Youth darkened, his presence becoming suffocating. In each hand, he wielded a weapon—his spear and his newly formed sword, both crackling with lethal energy.

Rooks swallowed hard. "What… what is this feeling?"

Then, a chilling chant echoed through the battlefield.

"Carmina Caelorum… Ultima!"

A trio of lightning-infused arrows manifested, burning with divine energy. Sarevsael fired them without hesitation. Two struck true, piercing Youth's shoulders. The third barely missed.

Yet Youth remained standing, shaking from his wounds but refusing to fall.

Sarevsael's expression darkened. "How the hell are you still alive?"

Ignoring the pain, Youth charged. Sarevsael attempted to retreat, but suddenly, a magic shield materialized behind him—Sequana's doing. The split-second distraction cost him.

In a blur, Youth closed the gap. His sword plunged deep into Sarevsael's stomach.

Sarevsael gasped, blood bubbling from his lips. But Youth wasn't done.

In one swift motion, he twisted the blade and thrust forward, his spear following suit. The dual weapons carved through flesh and bone, rending Sarevsael in two.

Blood splattered across the battlefield as Sarevsael's lifeless body crumpled to the ground, his once-proud wings twitching one final time before falling still.

Silence.

The battlefield was momentarily frozen in time. The Rebellious Knight had struck down a Royal Knight. And the war was far from over.