CHAPTER 94: SIBLINGS OF DESTRUCTION

The masked figure instinctively moved, his arms snapping up just in time to block the incoming kick.

A tremor shot through his limbs.

He hadn’t expected the raw force behind it.

"What the..." he muttered, genuine surprise cracking through his smooth tone.

But Aveline didn’t wait for him to recover.

She surged forward, a blur of motion and intent, spinning low and driving a sharp kick toward his stomach. Her heel cut through the air like a blade.

The masked man twisted, narrowly evading the full brunt. He retaliated swiftly, his hand sweeping down as water formed from the air—threads of liquid that laced around her feet and slammed them onto the cobblestone below.

With a snap of his fingers, the water hardened, anchoring her in place.

"Now you... you have potential," he laughed, the amusement in his voice tinged with curiosity as he clenched his hands tighter.

"Thanks," Aveline said with a smirk, a muscle in her jaw flexing, "but I don’t need your opinion."

And just like that, the bindings cracked—shattered not with magic, but brute strength alone. Aveline tore her legs free, stone and steam exploding beneath her feet.

Still no magic.

And as always, it puzzled Marcus.

She never used magic.

But there wasn’t time to dwell on it.

"I’ll help!" Marcus shouted, sliding to her side, twin trails of flame flickering beneath his boots.

Aveline turned to him mid-motion, mildly surprised. "You? Actually fighting beside me instead of hiding behind support spells?"

"You’ve changed quite a bit," she added with a half-laugh. "Let’s have that talk later!"

"No thanks!" Marcus barked back with a grin. Fire surged from beneath his heels as he accelerated forward, a speed boost propelling him like a meteor alongside her.

Meanwhile, Cynthia remained behind, her stance calm but eyes sharp—her earrings glinting softly.

Something was wrong.

"I sense multiple different gazes..." she muttered, narrowing her eyes toward the shadows. "They’re all aimed at... Cecil?"

Just as she finished the thought, the sky above lit up.

Dozens of fireballs launched in unison, streaking across the air like comets—every single one zeroed in on Cecil’s collapsed form, aiming to incinerate him, to erase every trace of their secret society.

Not on her watch.

Cynthia raised her hand, and the sapphire ring on her finger flared to life. Water spiraled upward, forming a dome of shimmering liquid that surrounded Cecil’s body. The fireballs slammed into it with deafening hisses, steam clouding the street.

"I’ll take care of the ones behind!" she shouted, her voice like a conductor commanding the battlefield.

Rooftops above exploded into motion.

Figures cloaked in the same fabric Cecil had worn earlier swarmed the skyline. Dozens of them leapt from shingle to shingle, spells flying from their fingers in an endless barrage—this time, all aimed at Cynthia.

But back on the ground, the real chaos was just beginning.

Marcus struck first.

Twin pistols materialized in his hands, sleek and rune-carved, glowing faintly as he unleashed a storm of magical bullets toward the masked figure.

The man’s eyes gleamed. "What an intriguing weapon..."

He weaved between the bullets with a surreal grace, his movements fluid—almost liquid—as if his body refused to obey the laws of physics.

Then came Aveline.

She closed the distance in a blink, her palm glowing black as a substance like tar slithered down her arm and pooled into her hand.

"Raven Sword!"

The liquid twisted and morphed, hardening into a long, jagged blade forged of shadow and spite.

She swung it with full force, aiming to cleave the masked figure in two.

"Impressive," he chuckled again, and with a stomp, the ground beneath them erupted upward—an impromptu wall of cobblestone rising just in time to block the sword’s arc.

But Marcus wasn’t idle.

He dropped low, sliding past the base of the wall.

His pistols recharged mid-motion. His arms whipped upward—

"Don’t forget you’re facing two opponents!"

A fresh barrage of bullets sang through the air, slamming into a second wall the figure conjured on instinct. Dust flew as stone shattered, each bullet crackling with explosive impact.

But that was all the opening Aveline needed.

She burst through the first wall, her grin wide, sword poised again.

"You two are quite fun..." the masked figure said with a laugh, catching the sword mid-swing—with his bare hands.

Aveline’s eyes narrowed. She released the blade instantly, pivoting without hesitation and driving a fist straight into his stomach.

But he wasn’t done.

His foot tapped the ground—just once—and a geyser of flame erupted beneath her.

"Not on my watch!" Marcus’s voice rang out behind him.

A fire rune etched across his arm flared brightly. He swiped his palm sideways, redirecting the geyser’s trajectory with a pulse of mana.

The column of fire twisted mid-air, roaring toward the masked man.

Now flanked—fist from above, redirected flame from the bottom.

Elsewhere, Cynthia danced.

Spells continued to rain from the rooftops—bolts of lightning, shards of ice, arcs of raw flame—but she moved like a phantom, the water answering every gesture of her hands.

Each motion was deliberate.

Precise.

Like she was conducting a symphony of war.

"While I want to fight back," she muttered, irritation twitching at her brow, "I don’t want to cause property damage!"

She risked a glance behind her—saw Marcus detonating walls and Aveline tearing through street fixtures like a one-woman demolition crew.

"Those siblings..." she exhaled with a resigned grin. "Guess I’ll follow their lead."

With a flick of her wrists, the water around her morphed into dozens of thin, gleaming needles.

They hovered, quivering, then launched—homing in on the rooftop attackers with pinpoint accuracy.

At the same time, she formed a sphere of water beneath her feet. It expanded, lifting her smoothly off the ground.

A floating platform.

Combat-ready.

High ground secured.

And Cecil?

Still unconscious. Still broken.

But safe.

The barrier around him pulsed gently, Cynthia’s magic holding steady even as she fought—her mastery of water magic on full display.

And all around them... the storm had only just begun.