The second wave of spells crashed toward Rodrick like a storm.
Roaring fireballs the size of boulders. Sharp spears of ice. And arcs of crackling lightning tearing through the air.
The battlefield lit up with color and chaos.
But the Red Commander didn't move back. He didn't flinch.
With one powerful swing. Rodrick slashed his flaming sword through a fireball.
The spell split in half, exploding behind him in a shower of heat and smoke.
The ground shook. But he was already turning. His blade spinning through the air like a blur.
A streak of lightning shot toward him. Fast and deadly. But he tilted his shoulder and knocked it aside.
The lightning veered off-course and struck two of his own soldiers.
Their bodies burned instantly, charred black in seconds.
Rodrick didn't look at them.
His heavy cloak flapped behind him, scorched and tattered.
The smoke swirled around his boots, and the edges of the battlefield flickered with dying flames and cooling ash.
The large magic circles that had been carved into the ground just minutes ago were now fading, their power used up.
The light in them dimmed. The air above them shimmered with leftover mana before going still.
Kyle watched from the southern ridge, eyes locked on the Red Commander.
They had used the trap exactly as planned. Set the explosive runes, carved the magic circles, and hidden archers behind spell-shielded barricades.
The first wave of Red Legion soldiers had been caught in it. Wiped out in a single blast.
But something felt off.
Kyle's eyes narrowed as he scanned the field.
The front lines had collapsed in the first few minutes.
Bodies scattered across blackened grass.
Most of the Red soldiers were low-ranked. Lightly armored. Uncoordinated.
The kind of troops you threw at a wall just to slow it down.
There they were. Standing in perfect formation.
Dozens of elite soldiers. Their armor was darker, thicker.
Their weapons. Halberds, axes, curved greatswords, glinted under the morning light.
They hadn't charged forward like the others. They had stayed in place. Waiting. Watching.
Rodrick had used the front line as bait.
He sacrificed his weakest troops to trigger the trap early.
Let them die to draw out the Black Legion's ambush.
He didn't throw his soldiers away carelessly. He used them like pieces on a board.
Just then. The sharp sound of movement rang out from below.
A horn blew near the barricades as more Black Legion soldiers began to charge. Kyle turned his head.
Commander Halric stood at the front. His dark cloak flaring in the wind.
His eyes were fixed on Rodrick, his hand tight around the hilt of his sword.
Cold vapor curled around the blade. Ice magic surging along the steel, sharp and alive.
For a moment, time slowed.
One charge away from chaos.
Then Halric raised his sword high. His voice cutting through the battlefield like thunder.
The command rang out like thunder.
Black Legion soldiers surged forward, their armor glinting under the rising sun.
Boots pounded against the earth. Swords, spears, and magic clashed all at once, shaking the battlefield like a living storm.
Commander Halric led the charge himself.
His greatsword, crackling with frost, swept wide as he cut through enemy lines.
He met Rodrick in the center of the chaos. The Red Commander, tall and grim, with flames swirling around him like a cloak.
Their weapons collided with a deafening clash. Ice met fire, steam bursting into the air around them.
Their duel was a storm of fury and skill.
Rodrick's sword burned hot, carving through the air in wild, heavy arcs.
Halric's movements were colder, sharper, each swing perfectly timed to counter the fire.
Around them. The battlefield turned into madness.
Captain Thalia moved through the fight like a shadow slipping through candlelight.
Her twin daggers gleamed silver, coated in poison. She darted between Red Legion soldiers. Never staying in one place for more than a heartbeat.
One soldier tried to block her. He blinked, and his throat was already cut.
She stabbed another in the side, slipped behind him, and slashed his Achilles tendon.
He fell, screaming, as Thalia was already gone, vanishing into the chaos.
Captain Bors was the opposite. Raw, brutal strength.
He roared as he swung his massive axe in wide arcs. Carving a path through the battlefield like a battering ram.
Red soldiers flew through the air. Their armor dented, their bones shattered.
A spear jabbed at him from the side. He caught it with his bare hand, snapped it in half, and smashed his attacker with the back of his axe.
"Come on!" he bellowed. "I'll take you all!"
Captain Rell stood on a high ridge overlooking the battlefield, his bow drawn.
He was calm. Focused. An anchor in the storm.
His arrow glowed faintly with wind magic as he aimed.
A Red Legion mage began chanting a spell, raising their staff. Rell released the arrow.
It flew straight and silent, and struck the mage in the throat. They fell without a sound, their spell dying on their lips.
Rell already had another arrow nocked.
In the center of the battle. Kyle stood with others...
He didn't move yet. Not until it was time.
His sword, Zalrielle, pulsed softly in his hand. It wanted blood. But Kyle held firm.
He scanned the battlefield. Red Legion soldiers swarmed. But they weren't the target.
His eyes locked on Rodrick, still locked in combat with Halric.
"Don't exhaust yourselves," Kyle said, glancing at the others. "Our real goal isn't the soldiers. It's Rodrick."
Cedric stood beside him, holding his long sword tight. His golden hair was messy from battle.
"I'm ready," Cedric said, his voice calm.
Cassian rolled his shoulders. Flames coiled around his Gauntlets, rising higher every time he breathed.
Serena said nothing at first, only shifted her stance. Her glaive crackling with lightning.
She nodded once. "We move together."
Kyle looked to Eleanora.
She didn't answer either.
Her eyes. Those deep crimson eyes, were fixed on Rodrick. Watching. Waiting. Reading every step, every swing, every twitch.
Kyle nodded. "Let's go."
And the five of them moved as one.
They charged into the fray, cutting down soldiers on the way. Not wasting time.
Kyle's sword flashed blue with lightning and frost, cleaving through armor like paper. He froze one soldier in mid-swing. Shattered him the next second.
Cassian moved like a firestorm. Punching through shields and setting the ground ablaze.
Cedric weaved light around his blade, creating a glowing arc with every swing.
He shielded them from arrows and returned the strikes twice as hard.
Serena was fierce and silent. Her glaive spun through the air, bolts of lightning snapping with each strike.
Every hit sent shockwaves through the enemy.
Eleanora danced between shadows and light, one step she vanished. The next she appeared behind an enemy, her estoc piercing clean through.
Their goal was clear. Push forward.