Kai watched in fascination as everything unfolded exactly how he’d planned. The threads sharpened into fire arrows struck true, slamming into Vhailor’s neck.

He’d already scanned for defensive artifacts on him earlier and found none, likely because such enchantments would interfere with the array’s delicate structure. It worked in his favor massively.

Blood poured from the wound as Vhailor collapsed, and the floating array around him faltered. In the next few seconds, Kai watched the results unfold.

The other Mages shouted in panic, scrambling to regain control. One of them tore a health draught from his belt and nearly leapt toward Vhailor, throwing the array’s stability into further chaos.

Kai seized the moment. Every move he’d made had led to this as he had planned, done countless mana calculations, and stacked spell structures to perfection. But his reserves were thin now; he needed to end this fast.

He rushed forward, closing in on the trembling Mage array as it spun out of balance in midair, held together by only three desperate Mages. Raising his arm, he unleashed another fire beam. The blast struck the array’s base, melting its edges and spreading glowing cracks through its surface.

The three Mages tried to patch the damage, weaving spells in frantic unison. Kai didn’t give them the chance. Dozens of flaming arrows burst from his other hand, streaking toward them like comets.

The first few were blocked by the weakening barrier, but the rest punched through. Cracks spidered across the array as firelight swallowed the sky.

The mages abandoned their stabilizing spells, trying to flee, but it was too late. The volley of arrows pierced through them, their cries fading beneath the roar of burning mana and collapsing light.

The structure broke into pieces. Dead and dying Mages dropped through the failing light and into the ground below. They fell fast enough that Kai didn’t bother guessing if the health draught had worked, the impact would finish the job.

He still went after them. He needed to make sure that all of them were dead.

The array slammed into the earth from hundreds of feet up, throwing up a wave of dust. Kai landed nearby and swept his hand. A gust of wind cleared the air and then he saw bodies.

The support Mages lay twisted at wrong angles. The one who’d leapt with the draught was crumpled beside Vhailor. Blood pooled and streaked over their clothes and stone. Their eyes stared up, wide and unfocused, but no chests moved.

All of them were dead. Except one.

Vhailor lay inside the faint outline of a shattered barrier. His neck wound was sealed roughly, the skin dark and wet. His breathing was shallow. Something had cushioned his fall—whether his own spell or of the dead Mage’s, Kai couldn’t tell. Bones were likely broken. The healing was clearly incomplete. But he was alive, even awake enough to fix his gaze on Kai and glare.

Kai stepped closer, his own wind barrier tight around him. He didn’t expect an attack, but he wasn’t going to take chances.

Vhailor’s lips moved. Kai leaned in just enough to catch the broken whisper.

“Don’t… kill me. It won’t be good for you.”

“Are you threatening me while you’re dying?” Kai said and almost scoffed.

Vhailor tried to reply. His eyes moved around and a wet sound escaped his lips first. He coughed up blood, eyes squeezing shut. When he steadied, words came rough and urgent. “Not a threat. Help me… heal. I’ll keep Alparca out of this civil war. You’ll have my support.”

“And not your cousin?” Kai pressed.

A tired, almost ugly grin tugged at Vhailor’s face. “No. He’s an idiot. He’d throw away half our coffers for a crown. Only thinks of himself. Don’t be an… idiot.”

Kai always wanted to laugh at that, but he settled for a chuckle. The sound made Vhailor’s bloody features pull tighter. “What?” the wounded man spat.

“Knew you’d say that,” Kai said, stepping close enough that the wind barrier hummed between them. “Aldrin expected you to die here. He really doesn't care for your kingdom or resources. He wanted you to go by my hand.”

Vhailor blinked, unease creeping over his face as Kai kept speaking. “Think about it. Aldrin already has Alparcan resources in his pocket. If you fall to me, your men will burn with rage. He feeds them that fire, moves them where he needs. He doesn’t report your death until it helps him. He doesn’t care that you’re family. He’ll use your death to gather more support, get the throne, then deal with the Alparcan royal family.”

The words landed like stones. Vhailor’s breathing hitched; his fingers clawed at the ground. He tried to speak again, to accuse, to deny, but his throat produced nothing but a wet rattle.

Kai watched the color drain from the man’s face. There was clearly nothing he could do. So he let the silence stretch at his final moments, then shook his head once with a finality. “Just die.”

Vhailor’s eyes widened in realization of what Kai was going to do next.

His mouth opened, maybe to beg again, but Kai didn’t give him the chance. A sharp flick of his wrist, a pulse of mana, and a [Wind Blade] flashed out. It caught Vhailor clean across the neck. The prince’s head rolled aside; the body slumped into the dirt, more blood pooling beneath it.

Kai stood still for a moment, watching the blood of the prince mix with the Mages. There was no way he was letting him live today. Duke Blackwood had told him to do exactly this—finish it, end the threat before it returned stronger.

And he was right.

Vhailor was the kind of spoiled royal who would have crawled back with twice the arrogance and a bigger Mage array, if he had let him go today. Mercy would only breed another war.

As for the Alparca Kingdom, they’d surely hold a grudge, but Kai didn’t care. Let them seethe. Once the civil war was over, he’d finally have the time to focus and reach the fifth circle. He’d already been pushing toward it, planning every step to make the breakthrough faster. After that, the sixth circle wouldn’t be far. Its nature made the jump easier. When he becomes a Sixth Circle Mage, a single kingdom wouldn’t matter. He could crush any number of dual casters alone.

He took one last look at the carnage—the corpse of Vhailor, the mangled Mages and the blood—then rose into the sky.

His mana reserves pulsed weakly, no more than twenty percent left. The spell that destroyed the array had drained almost everything he had. Even with mana potions, he couldn’t fight many more Mages without risking overload. The last time he’d pushed his heart too far, it nearly broke. If that happened again, surrounded by enemies as he was now, there’d be no one left to save him.

Aldrin probably knew that and had schemed for him to be in this state as even from a distance, he would see a cold smile on his face, one that didn’t touch his eyes. Up close, those eyes were bright with something else. Mirth. Like a man watching a trick work exactly as he planned.

Around them the battle kept its noise. Mages mouthed spells that hung in the air. There were soldiers that loosed arrows that stitched the sky. On the other hand, mana cannons thumped, each pulse making the ground hum. Drones darted like angry hornets. The siege breaker had joined the battle and swung at the wards again and again, metal grating on mana. On the large ward the impacts barely showed at first, but cracks soon spidered outward where the siege breaker struck.

Kai watched all of it. Then he pushed a flare of light up into the sky. A single red flash blinked and the noise changed. His whole line froze in a matter of seconds. The cannons stopped mid-recoil. Drones hung in the air. The siege breaker’s great arm sagged and stepped back. On the ground Killian and Duke Blackwood shouted orders that fell flat into silence.

The enemy stopped too. Spells faltered in the hands of opposing Mages. Arrows stopped at the string, trembling. Kai drifted closer to the ward, feeling the hum of mana press against his skin. He could see the enemy Mages, faces tight with strain, hands trembling with power. Aldrin lifted one pale hand—a small, precise movement and in response, the Mages lowered their fingers as if on a string.

Kai got closer and was met with the glare on his face.

“You, you killed my cousin,” Aldrin gritted it out. “You wouldn’t know what will happen—”

Kai’s eyebrows knitted tight. “Shut the fuck up. You already knew he would be dying after seeing my powers while battling Veridia. The act you put up deserves an applause. You knew I would have a way to kill him. You planned his death.”

Aldrin’s face immediately shifted into a mock shock before rage clouded his eyes. “I would never scheme to kill my kin,” he said.

Kai couldn’t help but sigh. “You’re acting just because you’re in public. You can maintain that petty act but we both know what you had planned and succeeded in. Yet you’re going to be losing this battle. Your plan might have worked till now, but you have miscalculated things massively.”

Aldrin’s lips twitched into a deadly smile. “I must applaud your confidence,” he said. “You might have killed my cousin, but do you even have enough mana left to last this battle? Your forces couldn’t even crack the ward around Fort Valemount. What gives you the right to think you’ll win? I say again, Duke Arzan—surrender. A Mage without mana is only a mortal, and mortals die the first in war.”

Kai only sighed. “Even without mana,” he said, “I don’t think any of you could get close enough to kill me.”

Aldrin’s eyes sharpened. “There’s always someone stronger, Duke Arzan. You should know that.”

Kai’s smile was slow and patient like a blade being drawn very gently from its sheath. He had wanted Aldrin to say that. He had steered the conversation in this direction from the start.

“Like the Caelond Kingdom Mage council,” Kai said.

For the first time, Aldrin’s perfect mask cracked. The motion was small—a blink, a twitch at the corner of the mouth—but it showed. A ripple ran through the ranks of Aldrin’s men. A murmur crawled across the battlefield and died. Aldrin opened his mouth, ready to shape a lie, but Kai did not give him the chance.

“It’s a good plan I must say,” Kai cut in, voice flat and almost amused. He drifted closer, so close he could see where Aldrin’s hair had been plastered by sweat. “Instead of relying only on Alparca, you used your cousin to wear me down. You have already made a private deal with Caelond. Royal council Mages and aimed to let them finish the job, knowing I would be able to kill your cousin.”

Aldrin’s hand tightened absently on the pommel at his hip. He did not deny it. His throat bubbled up once, but no words came out of his mouth.

“At first,” Kai continued, “I thought you’d smuggle them through the smuggling routes. Or worse, throw an all-out strike at the border forts I already hold. But I remembered something simple, I'm not the only Mage in the world with tricks up his sleeve. In a magocracy, research matters. Magic is studied, mapped, tested. A skilled Mage council could surely cross borders without being seen. From the start, you only focused on killing me instead of my army. Hence, you even called back every noble and their men to this fort.”

The more he spoke, the more that practiced calm fell apart. Tiny lines at the corners of Aldrin’s mouth tightened. His fingers curved in a fist. Sweat rolled down in lines on his face. He had stitched the plan together neatly—too neatly—and Kai had to admit, it was clever. It would have worked if Kai really didn't have any help outside of his forces.

Aldrin opened his mouth, his voice coming out flat. “Even if that is true, why bother telling me? You still don't have a lot of mana and won't be able to handle Caelond Mages for long.”

Kai smiled. “You don’t get it,” he said. “If your allies were coming, they would already be here. It's already been ten minutes since I killed Vhailor. And my plan was never to fight them. No, my plan was always to make sure that they never even reach Lancephil. You don’t get one thing. If you are relying on foreign forces, they are never going to be prioritising you instead of their own country.”

As Kai spoke, he saw the gears turning in Aldrin's mind, and he couldn't help but think about what would have been going on in Caelond. How that one old Earth Mage would have caused a large enough distraction to make sure that no Mage could travel to Lancephil.

***

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