CHAPTER 131: CHAPTER 131: LAW AND ORDER (PART 29)

Near the warehouse where Iron Shield clashed with the royal mages and knights, the night was alive with violence.

The air trembled with the clang of steel, the deep rumble of earth-shattering magic, and the deafening roar of fire ripping through stone. Every impact sent dull vibrations down the narrow cobblestone streets, rattling windows and shaking doors.

It was loud enough to rip people from their sleep.

Lanterns flared to life in houses lining the streets. Wooden shutters creaked open, faces peered out. A few called to their neighbors, voices hushed but urgent.

"What’s going on?"

"Is it an attack?"

Curiosity outweighed caution. Within minutes, men and women wrapped in nightcloaks and carrying torches began to gather. They moved toward the noise, the sound guiding them like a drumbeat.

But before they could get close enough to see the source, they came upon navy-blue–uniformed officers standing shoulder to shoulder in the street. Wooden barricades had been thrown together across every approach, reinforced with braced planks and sharpened ends.

The people slowed, murmurs spreading. This wasn’t a routine patrol. This was a lockdown.

The muffled boom of an explosion from within the barricade made some of them flinch. A flash of orange light flickered against the night sky, followed by a distant scream.

Some of the braver—or more reckless—residents edged closer.

"Stay back!" one officer barked, stepping forward with one hand resting on his baton. "Cross this barricade, and you will be committing a crime. We will use any force necessary to stop you—including lethal force if you resist."

The crowd stiffened.

Even as they hesitated, another deep crash rolled from within the sealed-off zone, followed by the sound of stone splitting and wood splintering. Somewhere inside, someone shouted a battle chant. The voice was drowned out by the roar of a fire spell detonating.

A few onlookers exchanged uneasy glances. "That’s magic," one whispered. "And not the kind you use for lighting a hearth."

They didn’t move. If anything, the crowd thickened. Fear mixed with fascination.

One man in the front called out, "Officer, what’s happening? Is it a raid? An invasion?"

The nearest guard’s voice was flat. "We can’t reveal any information. Return to your homes."

But no one turned back. More and more gathered, drawn by the chaos they could hear but not see. The smell of smoke began to drift over the barricade.

The officers grew more alert. One broke from the line and sprinted to call for reinforcements.

Then a sudden blinding flash of light illuminated the tops of the buildings from inside the perimeter, followed by the sound of shattering glass and another scream.

The tension at the barricade snapped.

A young man near the front lunged forward, ducking under the wooden rail before anyone could stop him.

"Hey!" an officer shouted, charging after him.

The man made it two steps before the officer leveled a small brass-handled sprayer and unleashed a fine mist into his face.

The man screamed, dropping his torch as he clawed at his eyes. He staggered back, but the officer was already on him, baton in hand. With one swift, practiced swing, the baton cracked against the side of the man’s head.

He crumpled to the ground.

The officer rolled him over, yanked his arms behind his back, and snapped iron cuffs into place.

Whether the man had been an Iron Shield sympathizer or simply a reckless fool didn’t matter. The orders were simple—No one crosses the barricade. If they do, the response is immediate and brutal.

The crowd fell silent, staring. Some stepped back instinctively. Others stood frozen, realizing this was no bluff.

Inside the warehouse, surrounded on all sides by the barricade, the sounds of battle surged once more—shouts overlapping in a desperate chorus, the crash of unleashed magic, the blinding flare of spellfire, and the unmistakable clang of steel biting steel.

Outside, the gathered civilians could only listen. They couldn’t see what was happening beyond the barricade, but they didn’t need to. Every muffled explosion, every sharp ring of a weapon told them the truth—something inside was being torn apart, piece by piece.

Inside, the world was chaos.

Kaelen’s fire-wind vortex screamed across the floor, its heat distorting the air, its twisting currents ripping through the dust-choked room. It smashed into a line of royal knights, their enchanted shields flaring gold and silver in defiance, but the sheer force still forced them back a step. The impact sent sparks cascading like falling stars, and the mingled scent of scorched metal and burning cloth filled the air.

Tannus braced his staff, boots planted firmly as he chanted over the din. The stone beneath the feet of a charging knight split open with a violent crack, jagged spikes thrusting upward and forcing the man to leap aside. But before Tannus could lift his head, a spear of ice whistled through the haze, grazing his shoulder and drawing a line of burning pain across his flesh.

"Kaelen!" Tannus shouted over the deafening roar. "They’re pressing from both sides!"

Kaelen didn’t answer—his focus was locked. Wind swirled around him in a protective spiral, deflecting a lightning bolt mid-flight before he thrust his staff forward, sending a spear of roaring fire toward the caster. The royal mages worked with frightening precision, their chants timed so perfectly that there was never a heartbeat without an attack incoming.

Iron Shield’s fighters were starting to slow. Every spell pulled more from their reserves, every swing of a sword grew heavier. Sweat streamed down faces, breaths came ragged, and the air was thick with exhaustion and the coppery tang of blood.

Then—

BOOM.

A royal battle-mage completed his chant, releasing a concussive shockwave that shook the entire warehouse. The blast flung two Iron Shield mages against the far wall, their staves skittering across the floor. On Kaelen’s flank, Aura Knights were driven back, their tight formation breaking apart under the renewed assault.

"Tannus! Hold the right flank!" Kaelen’s voice cut through the chaos, hoarse but commanding.

Tannus slammed his staff into the floor. The ground buckled, jagged walls of stone surging upward to block an incoming volley of arrows—but a royal knight vaulted over the barrier with impossible agility. The man’s shield slammed into Tannus’s chest like a battering ram, driving the breath from his lungs and nearly knocking him off his feet.

Across the room, Kaelen’s vortex faltered. A royal wind mage had countered his currents, tearing his flames apart and scattering embers harmlessly across the floor.

Iron Shield’s numbers were falling fast. Two more Aura Knights went down, their bodies swallowed in the crush of steel and shields. A water mage—midway through a chant—was struck in the throat by a wind arrow and collapsed without a sound.

The once-deafening battle cries of Iron Shield’s warriors were thinning, replaced by the steady, relentless march of the royal army’s advance.

Kaelen’s gaze met Tannus’s across the room. Both men knew.

There would be no retreat.

With a final, defiant surge of will, Kaelen raised his staff high, the crimson gem at its head blazing. His voice rose above the storm:

"O crimson flame, O raging wind—fuse and strike as one! Burn all before me!"

The gem flared with blinding light, and a towering column of fire and wind tore forward, ripping into the royal front line. The heat was so intense it warped the air, and the screams of burning knights filled the chamber. Even the royal mages staggered under the force of the blast.

"Now, Tannus!" Kaelen roared.

Tannus forced the pain from his chest, dragging in a ragged breath as he began his own chant:

"Earth, rise to the heavens—strike down my foes!"

The stone floor split apart, and massive pillars of rock erupted upward, slamming into the royal spear unit and crushing them against the far wall. The shockwave rattled the support beams overhead.

For a fleeting moment, Iron Shield surged forward again, their fighters rallying behind the devastating spellwork of their leaders. Steel rang louder, voices roared, and for that heartbeat in time, it felt as if they might push the invaders back.

But outside, the crowd heard only the muffled boom, the rumble of stone, and the faint, desperate cries of men fighting a battle they could not win.