At Knight Zorayel's side…
The girl moved like a blur, striking Zorayel from every angle with relentless speed. Her daggers flashed in the light — fast, precise, deadly. But every blow met the unyielding surface of Zorayel's shield.
He stood still, face calm, eyes half-lidded. Like none of it even mattered.
The girl skidded back, landing softly, clearly unimpressed. "How disappointing," she said, frowning.
She darted toward the ballroom's entrance.
Zorayel raised a hand. "Fireball."
A blazing orb of flame erupted in her path, forcing her to stop. But a smirk curled on her lips.
"You let your guard down," she whispered — and flung her knife straight at him.
Zorayel shifted just in time, but the blade sliced across his cheek, drawing blood and leaving a scar.
She giggled. "So, you can't cast offensive and defensive spells at once. That's a problem."
Zorayel's eyes darkened, his composure slightly shaken.
She dashed again for the entrance. Another fireball came flying. She smirked and threw another knife — but this time, Zorayel dodged it cleanly.
"I missed," she said, feigning shock. "Am I getting old?"
Just then, five guards rushed onto the scene, spears ready.
Zorayel glanced at them, his expression unreadable. "Why are they here? They'll just get in the way…"
The girl noticed too. "Now how will you fight me and protect them?"
She lunged at the nearest guard.
"Defensive Barrier!" Zorayel cast instantly, blocking her strike.
She spun and changed targets. Another spell. Another shield. She changed again.
Another barrier.
"What is she trying to do? Is she trying to make exuast my mana? Even if she do that, she is also exhausting her stamina" Zorayel thought, beads of sweat beginning to form. "No she is not that stupid. She must have something on her sleve"
Just as the thought crossed his mind, a chilling voice whispered behind him.
"Thinking about me?"
Zorayel's blood ran cold. He turned — but too late.
The girl had somehow gotten behind him. Her blade slashed across his chest, cutting deep. Zorayel stumbled backward and collapsed, blood soaking the ground around him.
The guards froze, wide-eyed.
The girl grinned. "Now, what should I do with you little lambs?"
The guards trembled, paralyzed by fear.
Suddenly, a voice called out behind her.
"Shouldn't you confirm I'm dead first?"
Her smile faded.
She spun around to find Zorayel — standing, hand glowing with warm light as he healed his wound.
"Tch. That's why I hate magic," she muttered.
Zorayel raised one hand. "Now… it's my turn."
With a flash of light, twenty identical Zorayels appeared, completely surrounding her.
Fireballs began raining down from all directions. She zipped between them, dodging flawlessly. She slashed at a clone — it vanished like mist and reappeared.
Another. Mist again and reappear.
"This is getting annoying…" she growled, slicing again and again, but every Zorayel faded upon contact and appearing again.
"It's hopeless," one clone said.
She cut it — gone and reappeared.
"That isn't the real me," another chimed.
Her patience snapped — but then, suddenly, her legs froze.
She gasped — her feet had been trapped in a ring of ice magic.
Before she could react, a fireball slammed into her chest. The flames scorched her cloth, seared part of her face. She screamed, face twisting in rage.
"How dare you!"
And in an instant — she disappeared.
All the clones vanished with her.
Zorayel tensed. Where—
But then, he felt it — movement behind him. Her blade was aimed at the back of his neck.
Just as it was about to pierce flesh…
Their positions switched.
She blinked, confused, mid-strike — and found herself where he had just stood.
"You forgot something," Zorayel said from behind her. "I can use teleportation magic."
Before she could turn — "Air Blow."
A powerful gust of magic struck her square in the chest, slamming her to the ground with a brutal force. Dust and debris exploded around her.
She didn't move. Unconscious.
Zorayel stood over her, catching his breath, blood still seeping from his chest but eyes burning with quiet triumph.
At Nih and Luthein's Side…
Nih and Luthein were locked in a deadly dance with the twin assassins. Blow after blow rained down on them. They barely managed to defend themselves — and every time they tried to land a strike, the other twin was there, shielding their sibling with frightening precision.
"This is insane!" Nih growled through gritted teeth. "These little monsters—!"
"What do you expect?" Luthein panted, parrying another strike. "They were raised by the cult. Their coordination is flawless."
"We can't keep this up forever."
"If we try to separate them, they'll go after the others."
Their eyes flicked to the far end of the ballroom — where the twins' mother was tearing through guards like paper, leaving a trail of blood in her wake.
Just then, the twins launched themselves forward again.
"Enough!" Nih roared, and both he and Luthein moved in sync — grabbing the twins and dragging them away from the crowd.
Nih took Darius. Luthein took Cassius.
"Now you can't save your brother," Nih taunted.
"Let's end this," Luthein added, sword glinting in the ballroom light.
What they didn't know — was that the twins' greatest strength lay in being together. Separated, they were vulnerable. And for once, the fight turned in their favor.
Luthein moved fast and precise, striking low, then high, until finally — with a sharp cry — Cassius fell.
"Brother…!" Darius screamed.
Something changed.
Luthein blinked — and suddenly, his chest exploded in pain. Blood poured from a deep wound.
He staggered back, confused, breathless. What…?
And then — he fell.
Nih turned. "Luthein? What—"
But he, too, was struck before he could react. A flash of movement. A scream caught in his throat. His knees hit the marble floor.
Darius stood above them, crying — but his eyes burned with something far darker. Fury. Loss. Madness.
"What have you done…?" their mother whispered, finally noticing Cassius's lifeless body.
But Darius had already snapped. His speed was no longer human. He became a blur — a storm of blades and blood.
He massacred every living thing around him.
His mother said, her voice low, shaken. "Even I… can't stop this."
At Julian's Side…
Julian launched himself forward, sword slicing through the air toward his opponent — only to be blocked with ease.
Nyvra stood tall, calm, a mocking smile on his face.
"It's been a while, little brother."
Julian's eyes narrowed.
Nyvra shoved him back with a single swing. "How's the sect doing? Still pretending to follow the old code?"
Julian didn't answer.
"And Mother…?" Nyvra asked, his voice drenched in cruelty. "Is she still crying for me?"
"You monster!" Julian shouted, charging again.
They clashed, blades sparking as they danced across the marble floor. Julian fought with rage, striking wildly — while Nyvra dodged or blocked every attack with practiced grace.
"Out of my way!" Julian shouted, pushing aside a guard who stood in his path.
Nyvra chuckled. "Looks like you're becoming just like me."
"I'll never be a monster like you!"
Julian's fury took over. He stopped thinking — and just swung. Again. And again. Wild. Reckless.
Until — crack.
His sword broke.
He froze. Staring at the broken blade in his hand.
"A heart filled with rage," Nyvra said softly, "forgets how to feel anything else. Don't forget what Sensei taught us."
Julian stood motionless. Breathing hard. Staring at the shattered weapon. He realized… he had lost himself. He'd fought like a beast, not a warrior. Even pushed aside those he was meant to protect.
"You're not ready to face me," Nyvra said coldly, stepping back.
Julian said nothing.
Their eyes turned — both of them — toward the chaos.
Darius was rampaging. A whirlwind of death. In mere seconds, he had slaughtered over a twenty guards. The ballroom floor was drenched in red. Screams echoed. Only the guests were left now — terrified and frozen.
"I have to do something," Julian whispered and sprinted toward the bloodbath.
Darius was heading for King Malzareth.
"Majesty..." Nih gasped weakly, trying to move despite his injuries. "Run…"
Julian pushed his legs harder. "I won't make it in time!"
Darius raised his blade to strike the king—
And then…
Boom.
He was suddenly launched across the ballroom — an invisible force crashing into him and sending him slamming into the farthest wall like a ragdoll.
Silence fell.
Even the twins' mother was lifted and smashed into the ground before she could react.
Julian stopped mid-run, stunned.
From a distance, Nyvra narrowed his eyes, scanning every corner of the ballroom.
"…He's here," he muttered.
Far away, a vivid figure shimmered briefly in the air — like a ghost. And then vanished.
"…Gone," Nyvra whispered.
He looked at the chaos once more. Darius… unmoving. Blood pooling beneath him. Dead.
Their mother — unconscious.
Nyvra clicked his tongue in irritation. "Tch."
And in the blink of an eye — he vanished.