229. Defiance

On the castle’s balcony, the air crackled with a tension thicker than the evening mist.

“No… This is getting out of hand,” Aurelia whispered, her voice strained.

“This is no longer a race!” Astrid agreed. A vein pulsed on her forehead as she ground her teeth.

But the Empress remained a statue of calm, her hands clasped neatly behind her back, fingers laced tightly together.

Frantic footsteps echoed from the dark hallway. Vivian and Virtius emerged, their sudden arrival drawing the attention of the room.

“Astral Empress, allow me to interfere.” Virtius swept his perpetually half-closed eyes across the scene below. “I believe some damage control is required. I would not wish for this mess to spread and further soil your coronation’s eve. Nyrethein can be quite… unpredictable.”

After a moment of thought, the Empress gave a slow, intent nod, her gaze falling to Cartier. The child clutched at the Empress’s dress, her lips drawn into a thin, worried line.

Vivian beckoned to Aurelia, her eyes holding a motherly warmth. “Princess, I believe I’ll need your assistance.”

“With pleasure, Celestius Vivian.” Aurelia’s eyes blazed with purpose. Before she left, she turned to Astrid. “Stay here. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, okay?” With her warning delivered, she strode away, her and Vivian's shuffling steps fading into the dimly lit hall.

Left alone, Astrid’s gaze darted nervously between the racetrack and Nyrethein’s platform. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple. “What in the hell am I hesitating for?” she muttered under her breath.

“I shall not stand idly against the unjust!”

Her own words were the final push. With her resolve hardened, Astrid vaulted over the ledge, chanting, “Adamas!” to reinforce her body for the fall.

Thud!

Thud!

A second thud from behind made her whirl around. Lunarius Lupus was rising from a crouch, her landing as silent and graceful as a shadow, without a hint of spellcasting. Astrid’s eyes narrowed, “How?” but the thought vanished as quickly as it came. They had to move.

Together, they raced towards the third checkpoint. “Out of the way! Outta the way!” Astrid shouted, ploughing through the crowd like a swimmer in viscous liquid.

Meanwhile, Lupus moved with nimble grace, leaping from a wall to a pole and onto a distant roof.

“How’s she moving so fast?” Astrid wondered, pushing her big frame.

Eventually, they arrived at the checkpoint where the battle still raged within a battlefield shrouded in murky black mist.

“Dynamis-Empyrion!” Astrid slammed her fiery fist against the barrier wall, sending a ripple of force towards the top. It was no use; the barrier held firm.

“Zetius!” she bellowed, curling her hands into fists, her knuckles turning a furious red. She punched and punched again.

“It’s no use,” a calm voice interrupted. It was Lupus.

“What?”

“You can’t breach it,” Lupus clarified, placing a hand on the shimmering wall. “You need a short impulse of high-density power to shatter this, even for a moment.”

Confused, Astrid raised an eyebrow.

“It’s powered by that.” Lupus pointed towards the source — the crown jewel of Borealis Castle.

“Ugh! I’m so angry!” Astrid hammered her fists against the wall, a fresh wave of anger washing over her — anger at the wall, at the people, at herself. She was useless. All she could do was watch as the enemy mauled her friend.

“This is getting old!” Zetius screamed, sending a crackle of electricity from his boot. The echo vanished on impact. He scrambled to his feet, heart pounding, his body a canvas of blood, bruises, and sweat.

Pree panted heavily, one hand clasping her upper arm, desperately trying to seal a deep wound with a healing spell. She kept one eye squeezed shut, a futile attempt to keep the blood from trickling into it.

“Pree, you good?” Zetius yelled, steadying her trembling frame.

She wiped blood from her face with the back of her hand. “I’m pale,” she said, her head feeling light.

“We need to disrupt the source! Do you trust me?” Zetius asked, his voice resolute as he locked his gaze with hers.

Pree nodded, her eyes screaming the words, I do.

“I’ll need a boost. You ready?” Zetius instructed, taking a step back to measure the distance between himself and the floating platform. “Cubie, on me.” The familiar form floated into his sternum and disappeared.

“Yes!” Pree yelled. Behind Zetius, the black mist solidified, rushing towards his position with an unyielding edge.

Zetius bent his knees in anticipation.

Whoosh!

The enemy struck, aiming to sever his neck. Zetius ducked, his legs already sprinting forward.

“CUBIE!” he bellowed. Thrusters ignited, boosting him through the air towards Pree. She had her fingers laced between her thighs, her body coiled slightly.

“NOW!” Zetius slammed his boots onto her interlaced fingers. Pree screamed as she mustered every last bit of her strength and poured it into the push.

With the redirection, she slingshot Zetius upwards with a deafening boom.

It worked! Zetius thought, flying up. In the corner of his eye, he saw her — Cubie’s true form. Her pale blue face, ever so surreal, smiled sombrely at him as she propelled him toward the night sky.

“Zetius!” She mouthed his name, yet he could almost hear it whispered in his ear. As his speed carried him away from her, the ghostly, beautiful figure drifted back, her fingers fully extended, yielding for him.

He was now only tens of metres from the Celestius. Eyes on the prize, Zetius’s gaze locked onto Nyrethein. His two fingers erupted into flames.

Point-blank, Zetius took aim. “Empyrion—”

“Insolent!” Nyrethein’s silver eyes widened, glowing with mana.

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The firebeam burst. She casually leaned back, and the shot narrowly missed.

But Zetius’s bet had paid off. He had waited for that exact moment. His lips continued, “—Astrapyion!”

“He can dual-cast?” Rhea gasped, her jaw dropping.

“He somewhat perfected it,” Willhelm said, a proud smile gracing his lips. The crowds around them moved like a wave, their unblinking eyes fixed on the spectacle.

A powerful electrical discharge surged up the beam of fire. Nyrethein’s eyes bulged as she felt the fine hairs on her cheek stand on end with gathering static. Small sparks of lightning crackled, yearning to bridge the gap.

“Dual-cast!?” Nyrethein gasped, wrenching her face away from the fiery beam.

But she was too late. The lightning connected, smoking the side of her face. She let out a terrifying scream, her eyes forced shut by the blinding pain. The stinging sensation felt almost foreign to her. For a hundred years, no one had managed to land an attack on even her finger, let alone her face.

“INSOLENT PRICK!” Nyrethein roared. With elegant haste, she weaved a fleet of snow moths and feathers, her voice resonating with power. “Anemax-Cryomax!”

A massive maelstrom of ice shards blasted out, zeroing in on the falling Zetius.

“Oh, no!” Cubie accelerated skyward, her index finger fully extended.

Zetius spun, his finger outstretched. But instead of meeting her touch, he caught her wrist, pulling her ghostly form back into the safety of his body.

“Zetius, why?” Cubie choked, her voice laced with panic.

“I told you,” he grunted, his voice tight with resolve, “I’d never let anyone hurt you again.”

At that moment, there was no dodging, no time to move, no time to even think. The air grew frigid, and his fluttering hair froze into hard strands.

Zetius grunted, bracing for impact. The wind thrashed him up and down, frozen shards grazing every inch of exposed skin. He shielded his eyes with his elbows, the effort immense.

Up became down, and left became right. Zetius spun and rolled helplessly in the tempest.

After the whirlwind ceased, he began to fall. The adrenaline pumped its last, keeping him barely conscious. His entire body burned.

In that fleeting moment, he forced his eyes open. He saw Nyrethein, screaming in fury and thrashing about as she cupped her injured face, before she teleported away.

He found himself smiling.

THUD!

Zetius crashed into the solid ground with a meaty thud.

Thousands of spectators, yet the racetrack fell as silent as a morgue.

“Ze…ta…” Astrid’s banging weakened to a soft touch against the unyielding wall. She tightened her jaw, her lips trembling as she forced down a cry. She felt ever more hopeless in a time like this, dread in her ruby eyes.

A loud thunderclap echoed, startling her. It was coming from her side. Lupus slammed her palm into the wall, sending ripples across its surface.

Didn't she say it wouldn't work? So why is she trying? Astrid thought. The bunny Wildren didn’t utter a single word; she just kept smashing and smashing.

Finding hope in her gesture, Astrid stood tall. She hissed in a sharp breath before joining Lupus, beginning to break down the indestructible walls.

The fluttering and shuffling noise ceased as the Zodiac Councils emerged before the arch gate that marked the finish line.

Virtius, Vivian, and Aurelia walked in haste, but as they approached the line, Virtius raised a hand, halting them. He scanned the area. The arcanists were wiped out, while the non-arcanists were closing in on the goal.

“Sir Imperator, let me save them!” Vivian pleaded, clasping her palms to her chest.

“Please, Sir Imperator, I plead with you,” Aurelia urged, her expression etched with deep concern.

The horse Wildren lay face down on the battlefield, her hair spread out and tainted with blood like the wings of a death butterfly. Her fingers twitched slightly.

“Wait…” Virtius observed, his tone calm. “In due time, my dear Vivian, Princess Aurelia.”

“Why?“ Vivian looked at him blankly.

“Because it’s not over yet… There is a profound faith in the wind.” Virtius replied, closing his eyes.

They exchanged an odd look; they didn’t understand his words until Pree’s fingers scraped against the stone, curling into a fist. The deep cut on her back stung as she moved. Yet, she didn’t give up. She was the most enduring creature on the face of the earth — the pride of the Rigellion family.

She fisted the floor and, with a restrained grunt, lifted her body. Slowly, she rose to her feet. Her chest rose and fell with ragged breaths.

The crowd resonated with a collective gasp; they thought it was over. But it wasn’t over as long as she could stand.

Victory awaited. The horse Wildren looked at the shimmering gate where the Celestius mages stood with open arms. Then, she looked at her fallen comrade. “Who am I kidding?” Pree muttered to herself, her tone breathy.

Without a flicker of doubt, she dragged her ragged body forward, her calf dripping warm blood. She didn’t have enough mana left for a healing spell.

The only thing she had was her will.

“Zetius! I got you!”

Zetius’s eyes fluttered open to find himself upright. Disoriented and foggy, he felt a force pushing up against his torso. “Pree…” he rasped weakly.

“Walk with me!” Pree bellowed, a toothy, determined smile adorning her face. “Don’t crawl, though.”

Foolish girl, Zetius thought. He didn’t have enough energy for her ill-timed joke.

Sucking in air, Zetius forced his feet onto the ground and began to walk.

The sight of the two struggling figures, one supporting the other, sent a ripple through the silent field. From the stands, Rhea blinked a tear from the corner of her eye. “That’s… that’s my girl!”

Nearby, Canis nodded, his voice filled with admiration. “Indeed, a true display of sportsmanship.”

“They’re truly moving!” Lampi urged Friederich, pointing at the couple.

“Zetius, Pree, you are truly amazing.“ Friederich remarked, genuinely impressed.

From a high balcony, Empress Aurora leaned against the rail, her silver hair whipping in the wind. "So, that is the heart of an arcanist," she mused, more to herself than the child beside her.

"No doubt about it," Cartier replied, her eyes wide with admiration. Triss nodded in firm agreement.

The sentiment caught fire, spreading through the masses. In another section, Frain hugged Zetius’s arc coat tightly, her silent cheer joining the growing swell of sound that finally erupted into a single, unified chant.

“PRIMA!” “PRIMA!” “PRIMA!”

They were all hoping, wanting Pree and Zetius to pass through the gate before the non-arcanists, who were now just a few hundred metres behind.

Realising what was happening, Astrid and Lupus stopped their futile efforts and ran along the wall towards the arch gate.

Left and right.

Then left and right.

Pree and Zetius matched their pace, slowly gaining speed. Blood and sweat dripped onto the cold stone, leaving a trail behind them.

“Let’s go!” Pree pushed her body to its limit.

Just a few metres now. Zetius faltered, his legs giving out. But Pree carried him, neighing and hissing with effort. Everything to move forward.

The chant was deafening. The non-arcanists were closer now.

Just an arm’s length away, Celestius Vivian extended her motherly arms. “Please, come to me! Just a little more.”

CHIME!

Pree emerged from the gate with Zetius and fell into the warm embrace of Celestius Vivian, her chin resting on Vivian’s shoulder.

Against the immortal golems, against the undying echoes, against the Celestius, they had truly won.

“Excellence. You two are great,” Vivian spoke softly. Her innocent, powdery aroma was soothing; it felt like heaven.

“Zetius, we made it… Yay…” Pree cracked a joke, but there was no response from the man on her back. “Zetius?!”

“Afraid not,” Vivian reassured her. Thousands of glowing leaves engulfed them, each one cascading down with gentle gravity. In grace, Vivian turned her head toward the princess, “Aurelia, please.“

“Yes, Celestius!” Aurelia stepped forward, her hands outstretched. The golden sun radiated from her body. A torrent of golden light, raw and limitless, flowed from her palms and into Vivian’s spell. The thousands of glowing leaves pulsed with a new, brilliant intensity, their healing power fuelled.

Pree felt a profound gentleness and warmth. Her pain began to numb and subside, slowly but surely.

“It’s just like Spring,” Pree said, her voice drawling as though she was in a state of euphoria.

“It is indeed Spring. Rest now, you two,” Vivian whispered. Pree’s eyelids felt heavy, and she couldn’t force them open any longer.

The crowd’s celebration rose into a long, thundering applause before eventually dying down into an awkward silence.

“Hear me!” Virtius’s voice, carried on a warm breeze, drew the crowd’s attention.

“Hear me, people of Osten! It is I, Virtius Nyra, Celestius of Aquarius. What you have witnessed here is more than a trial. It is the very soul of nobility! You have seen the unyielding resilience of our arcanists! Let it be known that against all odds, they will strive, they will sacrifice, and they will serve! This is the heart of our nation! For magic is our birthright. It is our blood. It is our legacy!”

Applause erupted, washing over the street. Virtius’s words had masterfully painted over the grim display with a veneer of ideals and values. It was a power he had honed for over a thousand years. As the eldest and most revered Celestius, when he spoke, his words became their truth.

Despite the victory, a somewhat chaotic scene ensued. The Novitcius mages of Virgo stepped in to rescue the rest of the injured. Meanwhile, two groups joined the two Celestius, their faces mirroring a deep concern.

Astrid, Lupus, Willhelm, Canis, Rhea, Lampi, Frain, Aurelia, and Friederich — their allies gathered close, forming a silent vigil around the stretcher where Zetius and Pree slept. On their faces, the strain of battle had finally given way to serenity. Vivian's light worked its miracle; their wounds visibly healed, leaving only faint scars behind.

A palpable sense of relief settled over the group because Zetius and Pree were safe in the hands of Vivian Viberty, the best doctor in the world.